Page 93 of The Forbidden Billionaire
“Spit it out,” I say with a smile. “Just say it.”
Another sigh, and he runs his hand through his hair. “I tried to make sure she enjoyed it.” He looks embarrassed. “If you know what I mean.”
“To make sure she had an orgasm?”
“Yeah. I mean, obviously, women can fake it, so you never know. But she didn’t like being touched much. And she didn’t like oral.”
“Giving or receiving?”
“Well, neither much, but receiving especially. She said she didn’t like how it made her feel, and she was too sensitive. I think she saw sex as something you did once a week, to keep the guy happy, you know? She never… on her own…”
Ohhh… he’s saying she never touched herself.If anyone’s going to understand, it’s you.I think he’s talking about seeing my vibrator. I guess to him it means I’m open about sex, and I enjoy pleasuring myself.
I try not to blush. This has obviously been a real problem for him. Maybe his family didn’t talk about sex much; his parents broke up when he was fourteen, right when he could have done with some guidance, and perhaps they were so caught up in their own problems that he had nobody to talk to, as his brothers were younger than he was. Guys don’t tend to talk to their friends about sex, especially about problems or insecurities.
“I’m so sorry.” It feels weird to cast myself as the expert here when I’ve only had one partner, but it seems as if I’m more open than Penny was. “Did she not like talking about it?”
He shakes his head.
“Did she get embarrassed?”
“No, more impatient and dismissive. As time went by, I realized she just didn’t think about it. Not the way I do, anyway.” He gives me a boyish, mischievous look.
I chuckle. “Me too. As you’ve obviously gathered, from seeing the vibrator.”
“Honestly?” He gives me a helpless look. “The first thing I felt when I saw it was relief. You read about women using them, but I’ve never met one.”
“She wouldn’t consider it?”
“God, no. I think she had a naturally low libido and just didn’t think about it or have those needs. And because of that, and what happened to her, she saw people who liked sex as somehow aberrant, I guess. She didn’t understand masturbation at all and treated it like a perversion.”
Pity fills me. “She didn’t like you doing it?”
He looks embarrassed again, but continues, “My parents are religious, and I was brought up to think it was a sin. I still did it… but then Penny caught me once. Early in the relationship. She hit the roof. Said I needed to control myself. Ever since then, it’s made me feel guilty.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s awful. It’s natural, and it’s medically good for you.”
He gives a short laugh. “Really.” His voice is heavy with disbelief.
But I nod. “I’m serious. It releases feel-good hormones and neurotransmitters. And for guys, it helps guard against prostate cancer.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Men who ejaculate more than twenty-one times a month have a twenty percent lower chance of developing it.”
His eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Twenty-one times a month?”
“Yeah. So you’d better start building up the muscles in your right hand.”
That makes him laugh. He studies me with something close to admiration. “It amazes me how you seem so comfortable talking about it.”
“My family’s always been open about sex. My parents answered any questions I had, especially my mum, and of course Caesar and Marcus were always joking about it, so I picked up on a lot of things from them.” I shrug. “And orgasms are nice. I don’t see why everyone doesn’t want to have them as often as they can.”
I sip my wine, wishing I could hear what he was thinking. He’s looking at me with a mixture of bewilderment, admiration, and hope, as if he’s pondering if I’m for real.
“Dominic is a fool,” he says softly.
“Why?”
