“Lord, no,” he gasped, clamping both hands down on her hips in an attempt to keep her from continuing the innocently seductive moves that she had no idea were driving him mad with desire. “You’re doing everything right. That’s why I’m still hard. Now sit still and don’t move a muscle, especially—AAAAAGH! Especially those muscles!”

She grinned wickedly at him, then lay down on his chest and propped her chin up on her hands. “Is this better?”

He was still buried in her, the need to make love to her again quickly rising within him. “Moderately so. What was it you wanted to ask me?”

Her bright blue eyes considered him seriously for a moment. “Will you be honest with me?”

He rubbed his knuckles gently down the curve of her cheek. She turned her face into his hand and pressed her lips to his palm.

Lord, how he loved her.

“I will always be honest with you, Charlotte.”

She took a deep breath. He tried to drag his attention from the blissful feeling of her body gripping him tightly, but it was difficult.

“I think something is wrong with me. Down there. In my womanly parts.” Her gaze dropped to his neck. She couldn’t look him in the eye when she made her shameful confession.

“Something is wrong with you? Wrong how? Are you in pain? Did I hurt you?”

Charlotte didn’t want to tell him how defective she was, but he was her husband—in every way—and she was worried about her problem. She just hoped it could be corrected, and that he knew how to effect the cure. She didn’t think she could possibly explain it to anyone else. “No, I’m not in pain…well…it’s not pain exactly…”

“Charlotte.” Dare sat up suddenly, pulling her from him. She felt an immense sense of loss as he withdrew from her body, but what he did next was far worse.

He examined her!

“Please, Dare, I’m all right! At least…well, I’m not all right, but I’m sure it’s nothing you can see, so would you please stop staring at me there? I assure you it’s not that part of me that is the problem. Not entirely. Well, possibly it is the source of trouble, but I just don’t know!”

She tugged on his head until he stopped prodding her private parts and looked up at her. “If I didn’t hurt you, then what exactly is the problem?”

She looked at his chest. “I’m…defective.”

“Defective?” He tried to raise her chin so she was looking in his eyes, but she kept her gaze clamped to his chest. “I don’t understand. How is it you think you’re defective?”

She took a deep breath. Sometimes it was best to get things over with quickly. “In Vyvyan La Blue’s Guide to Connubial Calisthenics the culmination of the calisthenic is described as a moment whereby one is transported to elation upon a crimson tide of completion that rises higher and higher, foaming and bubbling around one until heaven itself opens up to pour down pearls of joy in benediction.”