Drawing a deep breath, Amy fixed Kit with a long-suffering look. “You can tell because of what you feel when a man kisses you.”
Kit frowned.
“You’ve been kissed by a gentleman, haven’t you? I mean, not one of your relatives. What about your London gentlemen—didn’t they?”
It was Kit’s turn to blush. “Some of them,” she admitted.
“Well? What did it feel like?”
Kit grimaced. “One was like kissing a dead fish, and the others were sort of hot wriggling things. They tried to put their tongues in my mouth.” She shuddered expressively. “It was awful!”
Am
y bit her lips, then drew an unsteady breath. “Yes, all right. That’s probably just as well—that means you don’t want to go to bed with any of them.”
“Oh.” Kit’s face cleared. “What should it feel like if I do want to…” She gestured. “You know.”
“Sleep with a man?”
Kit glared. “Yes, damn it! What does it feel like to want a man to make love to you?” She turned onto her back and, dropping her head into the pillows, stared upward. “Take pity on me, Amy, and tell. If you don’t, I’ll probably die ignorant.”
Amy chuckled. “Oh no, you won’t. You’re just in the doldrums, what with your aunts’ machinations and all. You’ll come about and meet your man.”
“But I might not, so just tell me. Please?”
Amy smiled and settled beside Kit. “All right. But you must remember I haven’t had much experience of this either.”
“You’ve had more than me, and it’s only fair to share.”
“And you’ve got to promise you won’t be shocked.”
Kit came up on one elbow and looked into Amy’s face. “You said you didn’t…”
Amy blushed. “I—we haven’t. It’s just that there are…well, preliminaries, that might be a bit more than you expect.”
Kit frowned, then dropped back onto the bed. “Try me.”
“Well—when he kisses you, you should like it for a start. If you’re revolted, then he’s not the man for you.”
“All right. He’s kissed me, and I like it. What then?”
“You should want him to go on kissing you, and you should like it when he puts his tongue in your mouth.”
Kit bent a skeptical look on her friend.
Amy frowned. “It’s true. And you should feel all hot and flushed—like having a fever only nicer. Your knees tend to go weak, but that doesn’t matter because he’ll be holding you. And for some reason, you can’t hear very well when you’re kissing—I don’t know why. It’s just as well to remember that.”
“Sounds like a disease,” Kit muttered.
Amy ignored her. “Sometimes it’s a bit hard to breathe, but somehow you manage.”
“Wonderful—suffocation as well.”
“He might kiss your eyes and cheeks and ears, too, and then move on to your neck. That’s always nice,”
A distinct purr was slowly infusing itself into Amy’s soft voice; Kit blinked.
“And then,” Amy went on, “depending on how things are going, he might touch your breasts, just gently, sort of squeezing and stroking. It always feels as if my laces are too tight by that stage.”