Chapter 23B – The Wedding night- Rated R. Please do not read if you are under 18
“Home…” she whispered, a timid smile fighting her emotions. Her eyes locked with his worried glance for a moment, and then she nestled to his chest. His arm encircled her shoulder in a loving gesture.
“Elizabeth, is anything wrong?”
“No…nothing is wrong. Quite the contrary. It is just that I still remember vividly the day I entered your home for the very first time.”
“I remember that day, too, Elizabeth. Moment by moment... I felt ripped apart; my joy and gratitude in meeting you again was countered by my fear that your feelings for me were still the same as last April. I also remember your unease when you entered my home. I feared Georgiana’s insistence might distress you, yet I was grateful that she dared what I did not. I cherished every new moment in your company, though I was not certain if you accepted the invitation with pleasure or a sense of obligation.
“Both, I imagine. I did not know what to do, and I was so confused. I, too, wondered how you felt about Georgiana’s inviting us. I was afraid you supported her only because civility and decorum prompted you to do so. I was certain I did not deserve your attentions and was shocked when I received them. And then…when you asked me if I wanted you to leave your own home, I was overwhelmed with your astonishing consideration and ashamed of my past behavior toward you.”
“You must never feel ashamed of anything you have done, Elizabeth. You were faultless; I fully deserved your harsh words and your rejection from last spring!”
“You are too kind, my love,” she smiled as her fingers tenderly caressed his face. “You have always been an exceptionally good man – the best man I have ever known – and, for a long time, I failed miserably to notice it. Instead, I gave full credit to the first malicious reports that reached my ears and hastened to misjudge you utterly.”
“I had done nothing to deserve your good opinion when we first met, and my outrageous intervention in…”
“Oh, come now, Mr. Darcy! If we continue like this, we shall spend our entire wedding day and night arguing about the past. I am truly sorry for raising this subject, but now you must help me drop it entirely. I used to have a marvelous philosophy, which could be very useful to both of us in these circumstances. Unfortunately, I failed to follow it recently, so it might not be as good as I thought it to be,” she laughed tearfully.
Darcy placed a soft kiss in her palm. “You must not worry, my love. We will not spend our wedding night arguing, I promise you,” he whispered, and his voice, together with the soft touch of his lips on her palm, made her shiver. “And now,” he continued, still holding her hand, “will you not share your philosophy, Mrs. Darcy?”
“I certainly shall.” She forced a smile as she fought the sudden lump in her throat. “Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”
“A very good philosophy indeed – especially for someone who has not much to be blamed for in the past. I am afraid that, in my case, it would not be poss…’
“Oh, this will never do.” She stopped him, pressing her hand upon his mouth. Then, daringly, she rose a little from her seat, just enough for her lips to replace her fingers and silence him in a most pleasant way.
If Darcy was surprised, he managed to conceal it successfully and handle the situation remarkably well; he needed only an instant for his arms to pull her upon his lap and tighten around her waist. Elizabeth laughed shortly against his mouth as he pulled her even closer. Their kiss was more a playful dance than a passionate urge – a tantalizing tease of each other’s lips and an expression of their delight in being together – finally.
“Elizabeth, I truly hate this bonnet,” Darcy said unexpectedly against her mouth, his fingers trying to slide beneath the object of his displeasure in an attempt to caress her hair. Her peals of laughter broke the kiss.
“I am very sorry to hear that, sir. My mother warned me that you might also be displeased with the lack of lace.”
“Lace? Of what lace are you speaking? What I meant is – I would rather have leave to admire your hair whenever I please. May I?” She nodded in agreement, still laughing as he untied and removed her bonnet. “This is much better, would you not agree?”
“I certainly would,” Elizabeth admitted, and he pressed a soft kiss on her temple, obviously content.
“So, dare I ask why your mother feared I might be displeased?”
“Well, because of the lack of lace on my gown, of course, dear sir.”
“You are teasing me again, Mrs. Darcy. Surely, nobody believes a lack of lace can be a reason for someone’s displeasure. In fact, I doubt I have ever noticed the presence – or the absence for that matter – of lace on anyone’s gown.”
“That is indeed a pity, sir, and I hope you are a singular case, because we – women – spend an excessive amount of time arranging ourselves in order to be noticed by you gentlemen,” Elizabeth laughed. “Of course, some of us fail in the attempt and barely manage to appear ‘tolerable’; however, we are not to be easily discouraged.”
Darcy’s countenance changed and, as they were mere inches apart, Elizabeth could see her teasing disturbed him. She leaned closer as he started to apologize; and, though her lips silenced him, he broke the kiss a moment later. “Elizabeth, my rudeness…”
“Sir, I thought you had grown accustomed to my teasing by now and started to enjoy it, but if you feel the need to apologize again for that evening, I must have been wrong in my estimation,” she said, her eyebrow arched in reproach.
“You were not wrong, my dearest. However, I cannot forgive myself as easily as you do, and my behavior at the beginning of our acquaintance still troubles me. As for your teasing – I have always enjoyed it exceedingly, you know that.”
“Always? Even when I was impertinent in my replies to you?”
“You were never impertinent; witty, amusing and exceptionally bright – yes, but never impertinent.”
“I am afraid you failed to notice it, sir, as you failed to notice the lace on our gowns,” Elizabeth said with a mischievous smile. “Which is quite amazing, considering the fact that you are such a perceptive man.”
“You are giving me too much credit, my dear wife. When it came to you, my perception betrayed me for a considerable time, or I would have seen your true feelings for me last spring.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “You do plan to spend our wedding day arguing about the unpleasant things in our past, sir!”
“No, no indeed…forgive me,” he pleaded, as he placed butterfly kisses on her hair.
Elizabeth cuddled to his chest, sighing contentedly. “Ahh…much better, indeed.”
As she was resting on his lap, his left hand encircled her back while his right gently raised her face to his. She smiled adoringly, and his face was lit with delight before their lips joined and the past vanished.
As Darcy’s caress became more daring and possessive, Elizabeth’s restraint vanished; she was alone with her husband and they no longer need hide from others. For a moment, a sensible thought crossed her mind, telling her there were footmen outside the carriage, but his lips traveling along her throat and his fingers lowering the shoulder of her dress made her insensible to anything but her husband and the tingling shivers that overwhelmed her senses. She reclined in the embrace of his left arm, and his kisses became more passionate. Some uncounted minutes later – she completely lost track of time – Elizabeth felt herself pulled upright as gentle arms embraced her tenderly and lips rested lightly against her temple. She could feel Darcy’s heart racing wildly and forced her own ragged breath to calm.
“We have two more hours until London, my love, and this will not help us abide the time left,” Darcy whispered. “Even more, though I praise my discipline and self-control, I fear my struggle will be in vain if you continue to encourage me in such a tempting manner,” he added hoarsely.
He was speaking partially in jest and was obviously teasing them both, but Elizabeth blushed, suddenly mortified by her wanton behavior and too ashamed to meet his eyes.
“You are correct, of course,” she replied, trying to free herself from his arms and resume her position beside him.
His arms, however, only tightened around her. “Elizabeth, please look at me.” His palm lovingly cupped her face until their eyes met.
Her cheeks were crimson, and she was biting her lower lip while her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I am sorry, I…” She felt so deeply distressed while he seemed nothing but amused. Nervously, she averted her eyes and tried to rise again from his lap.
“Of what would you be sorry, my love?” he asked, holding her tightly. “For your ardor and passion for me? For enjoying my kisses and caresses? I hope you are not truly sorry, just as I hope you will learn never to feel embarrassment from the pleasure and joy we will share in our marriage.”
“I am sorry for making such an exhibition of myself. I do not know what is happening to me. I seem to act most irrationally when I am with you. I am quite aware of how I should behave; but, unfortunately, I so forget all propriety and decorum on occasion that I must shock you. It is unacceptable that you – as a man – should be the sensible and considerate one, who always puts an end to these…improper activities…
“Elizabeth, please stop…” She timidly raised her head, and he softly kissed her eyelids. “Do I look shocked to you, my dear?” he inquired teasingly, and she smiled. “Can you not see that your behavior is everything I have hoped for? For more than a year, I have been dreaming of the moment when your love and passion would equal mine, though for a time I dared not think it would ever happen. You are the only woman to inhabit my dreams, Elizabeth, but you are more wonderful than any dream.”
“More wanton, you mean,” she replied, still distressed and trying to defeat her emotions.
He laughed. “You say ‘wanton’ – I say unrestrained, passionate, lively, and honest in expressing your feelings – exactly as you have always been!”
“I do like your choice of words better than mine,” she admitted as his thumb gently wiped a tear from her cheek.
“What a relief to know that, for once, you approve my choice of words; I would say that is a great improvement since we first met,” he replied, and she laughed tearfully.
“Yes, a great improvement, Mr. Darcy.
“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. I am content that we clarified our little misunderstanding,” he said with another soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Now, let us change the subject, shall we?”
She nodded, lighthearted; his palms were cupping her cheeks and she leaned closer to press her lips gently on his. Then her head nestled on his shoulder, and a peaceful silence enveloped them for a time.
“So, what shall we talk of?” he asked. “We were debating the importance of lace, I remember. Shall we continue that discussion?”
“As you wish, sir, but I insist you allow me to resume my place beside you. You cannot possibly keep me in your lap until we will reach London.”
“Are you uncomfortable with this arrangement?”
“Quite the contrary,” she replied lightly, a quick blush coloring her cheeks, “but I imagine you are uncomfortable, as I know I am not such an easy charge…”
“Elizabeth, your care is greatly appreciated, but please do not worry about my comfort,” he assured her and gently tilted her head so their lips met again. The urgency of his kiss took Elizabeth by surprise – as they had just agreed they should stop that kind of activity; however, she hesitated only a moment before wisely determining it was her duty to obey her husband’s wishes.
“Let us discuss lace,” Darcy said, breathlessly, some time later.
*** At Netherfield, Caroline Bingley had all her belongings arranged in the carriage and wanted nothing more than to be on her way as soon as possible. She could no longer tolerate Mrs. Bennet’s smug grin, Charles’s dumb smile or Jane’s complacent countenance. Impatiently, she rolled her eyes in exasperation as Mr. Hurst indulged in yet another glass of wine and Charles expressed once again his regret for their early departure; Jane continued to smile irritatingly and blushed at almost every word Charles spoke . “What ridiculous behavior.”
Finally, Louisa and her useless husband were settled in the carriage, and Caroline’s journey commenced. She felt pleased, confident and full of anticipation for the tour she would start in a couple of days. For the next several months, she would be in Lady Sophia’s select company and would surely meet the most illustrious members of the upper class – precisely the company she deserved. This would be the perfect occasion for her to find an excellent husband – and then she would sever forever any ties with the Bennets!
As for Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy – if he had could not recognize and appreciate her worthiness, it was his loss. From then on, he would be forced to bear Eliza Bennet and her family forever. He would surely come to regret Caroline – she was certain of that – and this perspective kept Caroline Bingley cheerfully distracted for the remainder of their journey to London.
~/~/~/~ Her apartment was spectacular.
Dressed in her nightgown and robe, her hair flowing over her shoulders, Elizabeth paced the room, brushing her fingers over the furnishings.
Darcy had accompanied her to her chambers more than an hour earlier and then left, promising he would return soon. She knew she needed privacy to prepare herself for what was to come, but she already missed his presence dearly.
Her maid helped her with her bath and prepared her for the night – and now, with everything arranged, Elizabeth was waiting alone in the large, silent, elegant room. Mrs. Darcy’s chamber!
It was not so much the grandeur or the richness that impressed her, but all the beauty around her and the thought that, from that day on, everything belonged to her – the former Elizabeth Bennet. And, for the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt intimidated.
She returned to the bed and stared at a box, elegantly wrapped. Most likely, it was a present for her, but she did not open it, although she could hardly restrain her curiosity since she stepped into the room. Darcy had seemed to notice her interest, and she was certain she had seen him smiling mischievously; but he had departed before she could inquire further.
What could it be? It was clearly too large a box to contain jewels and too small for a gown or bonnet. Perhaps some books? But why would he offer her books so secretly on their wedding night? Surely he did not intend to read, she thought as her cheeks burned. Oh, where was he?
*** Jane Bingley did not dare move – or breathe. She was completely undressed and her husband’s arm held her tightly against his bare chest; her breasts were almost painfully crushed to him. Every movement – including their breathing or the beating of their hearts – caused their bodies to brush against each other. She felt exhausted and stunned as much as she was ashamed and incredulous at everything that had occurred between them.
Cassandra had told her that the experience of becoming a woman would be a very pleasant one, but pleasant was hardly a proper word for what she had felt; in truth, she was too mortified even to remember everything her husband had done to her, but she vividly remembered it had been much more than pleasant. She would have never imagined Charles behaving in such a way – so unrestrained, so passionate – almost demanding in his insistence on defeating her embarrassment and modesty.
With shame and delight, happy that her red face could not be seen nor her thoughts read, she remembered how he had removed her nightgown as she struggled to keep her body hidden; how he impetuously covered her body with shocking, intoxicating kisses; how he kept asking her if she enjoyed what she was feeling… Oh, she did enjoy everything – she truly did. Her body was exhausted by her husband’s passion, and the pain was still sharp inside her, yet – to her own astonishment – Jane hoped he would repeat his attentions very soon.
Cassandra had told her she would like being married to Charles – and Cassandra had been right again. ‘She is so smart and she knows so many things!’ Jane mused with gratitude, nestling on her husband’s chest.
Charles Bingley was the happiest man in the world – and the proudest. All his fears and worries were now gone, and he was holding closely in his arms his beautiful Jane, the woman who had offered him everything that he had dreamed – and much more. A trace of guilt shadowed his contentment, as he knew he had been oftimes too impatient. But he was at least pleased to know that the only inconvenience she had suffered was embarrassment. She seemed ashamed most of the time – he knew that. She even begged him to allow her to cover herself with the sheets at one point, but he had silenced her with his kisses. And she did like being kissed – he had no doubts. How sweet she was in her complete abandon to him! And how incredibly beautiful she was as she took her pleasure – a pleasure which he was giving her and which he hoped he would be allowed to bestow on her again very soon.
The Colonel was right – everything was the same, yet so incredibly different from everything Charles had ever experienced. And his adored Jane was not an angel to dream of but a most beautiful woman to caress, to kiss, to pleasure, to love – and share a life.
Yes indeed – the Colonel was right. ‘But again,’ Charles mused, ‘he is always right. He is so damn smart and knows so much about everything!’
~/~/~/~ “I see you did not open the box, Mrs. Darcy.” Darcy’s voice broke the silence, and Elizabeth startled and stepped away from the bed, feeling almost as though she had been caught doing something improper.
“No, I did not. I…”
Elizabeth glanced at her husband and her eyes remained locked with his intense gaze. He wore a nightshirt; and, though she had seen him informally attired before, his appearance made her body shiver and her mouth turn dry.
Darcy smiled at her and stepped forward; she looked at him, mesmerized, and his every step made her tremble. She quivered and licked her lips; he smiled again. A moment later, he was so close that his scent intoxicated her.
“Do you not enjoy surprises, Mrs. Darcy?”
“Of course I do…but I was not certain if I should open the box… I was not sure it belonged to me…”
“Really? And to whom could it possibly belong since it was on your own bed?”
“You should not tease me in moments like this, sir. I am quite nervous as it is.”
A trace of concern passed over Darcy’s face for a moment. “Are you truly worried, Elizabeth?”
“Indeed, I am,” she whispered. Her eyes lowered to the floor, and his anxiety increased. “I cannot stop worrying about…what is in that box,” she continued and laughed. He breathed in relief and then suddenly lifted her in his arm, almost suffocating her against his chest.
“I see you find great delight in teasing me, Mrs. Darcy,” he said, but she had no time to reply before he captured her lips.
Her legs were not touching the floor, and her body was crushed against his, her arms entwined around his neck; she could not breathe, but she did not need air – she only needed his scent and his warmth.
After a while, he put her down, and she feared – and hoped – he would take her to the bed. Instead, he took her to the little settee in front of the fireplace and bade her sit. Still breathless, she looked at him in wonder.
“Do you not wish to know what is it in that box?” he inquired, and for a moment she wanted to say “no”; indeed, she wanted to know nothing except what she knew must happen between her and her husband.
“I do,” she whispered, and he seemed pleased.
In an instant, he brought her the present and sat beside her. A moment later the secret was revealed; an exquisitely carved box rested in Elizabeth’s trembling hands, and its beauty left her breathless.
“Thank you…” she barely managed to say.
“No, do not thank me yet,” he replied and opened the box.
The fascinating sounds of a waltz flowed from the music box, and Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat while she forgot to breathe; tears glistened in her eyes as she stared at her husband in disbelief .
“Oh William… A waltz?”
“A waltz,” he repeated with a smile, and she could not fight back her tears.
“This is… I cannot believe that… It is so…”
“I sincerely hope these are grateful emotions…” he teased, and she burst out laughing nervously as tears rolled down her cheeks. With the music box in her arms, she daringly started to kiss him softly. The music stopped and then began once more. They smiled against each other’s lips.
“Am I to understand you like my present?”
“Indeed I do like it. You are most unpredictable, sir. I would never have guessed the nature of your present.”
“Well, I did promise you some private waltz lessons,” he said hoarsely, his fingers dearly brushing her cheeks.
“So you did. But I never imagined it would happen tonight. I never imagined you were so fond of the waltz,” she replied teasingly, her hands on the box still trembling slightly.
“I am not very fond of any dance, and the waltz would be a torture to me with any woman other than you.”
“That is a very pretty thing to say, sir. However, I could not help but notice you are truly proficient at it. You must have practiced a good deal,” Elizabeth replied, as her right eyebrow rose inquiringly and a mischievous little smile twisted his lips.
“No indeed, I practiced only a few times because Cassandra forced me. I do not need to practice too much in order to be proficient,” he said with a laugh, and she narrowed her eyes, still incredulous.
“Elizabeth, I never danced the waltz in public except with you at the Netherfield Ball,” he continued, more seriously.
“Truly?”
“Truly...”
On the small settee, near the peaceful warmth of the fire, they took each other’s hands and their fingers entwined in a tender caress; the box was in Elizabeth’s lap and, still holding her hand, Darcy opened it again and the sound of music wrapped them anew. Their gazes were locked and her eyes sparkled with emotion and love.
“You know, William, that evening in London at Cassandra’s ball when you asked me to dance with you after you had just refused Cassandra…”
“Yes?” He turned to her and embraced her closely, their faces touching, his lips resting on her temple.
“Oh, nothing. Let us not speak of this now.” She abandoned her idea, but he would not.
“You must tell me once you started, Elizabeth.”
“I will…tomorrow,” she replied and then turned her face so their lips almost touched. Darcy was tempted to insist, but the sweetness of her lips was too appealing – so he tasted them and forgot what he wanted to ask.
He felt as if he had not kissed her for an eternity; his longing, his desire – his hunger – for her seemed impossible to satiate.
Her mouth parted with loving abandon and their tongues tantalized each other for a moment and then danced together. His hands traveled along her arms and lingered on her shoulders then gently unfastened her night robe and removed it. She shivered – not from chill but from the touch of his burning fingers on her skin.
“Elizabeth?” he said breathlessly, their mouths unwilling to separate.
“Yes,” she barely managed to speak as she struggled for air.
“Can we postpone the waltz lessons for another evening?”
Elizabeth laughed only a moment before his lips captured hers again, and then all her thoughts turned into a wild urge to feel his touch on every inch of her skin; suddenly the music box became an obstacle, and she put it down as gently as she could. As though that was the sign he waited for, she felt herself lowered to the settee, his weight almost crushing her and his kisses becoming more possessive. The settee was so small, and he was so tall and heavy that Elizabeth was certain she would faint from lack of air. However, just as she was pondering this, she felt free, though her lips were still engaged with his. She slowly opened her eyes and saw him kneeling at her side.
Darcy withdrew from her enough for their eyes to meet; he smiled, and the love in his gaze melted her heart. His fingers tenderly removed a lock of hair from her forehead and then brushed over her red, swollen lips; she caressed his face, and then her hands sneaked into his hair.
Slowly, he leaned closer to her again, but this time his mouth traveled down from her chin, along her throat; each spot of her bare skin shivered under his intoxicating exploration while his hands carefully lowered the gown from her shoulders. She knew – she hoped for – what would follow, and the wait was unbearable.
Yet, although she was anticipating it, the gentle, tentative touch of his fingers over her breasts startled her, and she moaned loudly as her back arched toward his touch. His caress, shy at first, became daring and more passionate, tracing torturous circles until his palms possessively cupped their roundness and rested there.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and she moaned again, turning her head in search of his lips. Yet, he avoided the kiss; instead, his mouth resumed its journey as one of his hands withdrew from its smooth captive to allow his mouth to satiate its hunger. His lips traced a burning line over her skin, exploring, tasting, and sucking with
passionate urgency, marking her as his, and throwing Elizabeth into a storm of warmth and chill.
His hand was now free to continue its journey, to conquer the last unrevealed parts of her body; the thin silk fabric of her gown was soft and his fingers, strong yet gentle, stroked her legs and then traveled up, pressing gently against her skin. Instinctively, her thighs locked together, but his hand continued its conquest; with tender care, his strokes tantalized her legs and parted them daringly. Soon, no opposition remained and, to Elizabeth’s shock, his hand moved higher until it reached her very core. She could not suppress a scream and, shocked, she tried to clasp her thighs again. She heard him whispering her name and wished to understand his words but could not. His mouth hungrily captured her other breast and she screamed again while her entire body arched.
For Elizabeth, every sense, thought, and feeling was divided between the sweet torture of his lips on her skin and that most intimate part of her body where his fingers started an intoxicating exploration, gently fondling inside her warmth. “This cannot be happening,” – a vague notion – but the moment she felt his finger sliding inside her, any reasonable thought vanished, and she cried his name, knowing it was happening. She had no doubt some moments later, when waves of unimaginable pleasure violently exploded in her body and everything turned dark around her.
As she returned to conscious thought, she opened her eyes and could distinguish his face in the dim firelight. He was smiling adoringly, and she forced a smile in return; with mortification, she realized he was still kneeling beside her, one of his hands resting on her breast as the other gently caressed her inner thigh. She wanted to move, but he would not allow it; he covered her face with small kisses while she averted her eyes. Her mind told her that what happened was mortifyingly improper, while her senses confessed that nothing could possibly exist more blissfully pleasant than what she had just experienced.
“You are more beautiful than I have ever dreamed, Elizabeth,” he whispered. “And you are all mine now…”
She looked at him puzzled, her cheeks flushed. “Is it…is it all done then?”
He laughed and she averted her eyes again, even more embarrassed. He forced her to turn her gaze to meet his.
“No, indeed, my love, it has only begun… We should move to the bed.” Her nightgown was discarded, she felt herself being lifted in his arms and carried across the room.
Darcy laid her on the bed, and she instantly nestled beneath the sheets to conceal herself from his intense stare. He smiled and slowly removed his nightshirt, while her cheeks colored and her eyes desperately tried not to look at his intimidating figure. His naked body protectively touched hers under the silky sheets and his arms enfolded her. “What is wrong, my love?”
Her head cuddled on his chest and she sighed when she could hear his heart beating. Her hands moved to encircle his waist but his skin – so warm, so fully exposed to her touch – made her shy, and her hands dared go no further.
“Elizabeth?”
“Nothing is wrong… It is just…”
“Yes?”
“I never thought it would be like that… Everything that happened was so…” Her voice was barely audible, and she struggled to find the words as she fought against her own embarrassment.
“My love, you worry me… Did I hurt you?”
“Oh no, you did not hurt me – quite the opposite! It is just that I never imagined you…that I… It was so unexpected…”
“I see…” His voiced changed instantly, and a warm whisper close to her ear made her shiver. “So…may I dare presume you found it unexpected…in an enjoyable way?” His tongue shamelessly tantalized her earlobe and she shivered with nervous delight.
“Oh please stop… I cannot possibly speak of that. It is so embarrassing!” Her mortification grew even more as she could feel the smile on his face.
“Truly? This is quite astonishing, Mrs. Darcy; I was used to believe you could speak easily on any subject…and I thought we already clarified the matter of embarrassment earlier in the carriage, but it seems you have already forgotten our agreement. I have always treasured the liveliness of your mind, and I have to say I am truly disappointed to discover so soon after our wedding that I might have been wrong in my estimation.”
Darcy’s voice could barely conceal his mirth as he scolded her with mocking sincerity.
Elizabeth lifted her head slightly to meet his eyes and darted a sharp glance at him.
“You are a cruel man, sir, to trifle with me in such a way. I would not expect that from you. You should know this is not a proper time for teasing…”
“I might be cruel sometimes, I will admit that. It is very unfortunate that you, too, discovered my cruelty after the wedding.”
“It is, indeed.” She was forced to regain her spirit as their mocking argument continued.
“There is little either of us can do now, Mrs. Darcy, except to reconcile with our mutual disappointment and try to reach some sort of understanding. I will start by agreeing with you on one very important point: this is not a proper time for teasing, he growled softly.
They were his last coherent words before he assaulted her with renewed passion and desire, and Elizabeth surrendered completely; every touch, every kiss, every stroke seemed even more irresistible, as this time she knew what they would bring. Her body seemed to possess a will of its own, and every reaction was a plea for further caresses.
For a while, she tried to keep the covers around her as a useless protection, but his greedy hands kept pushing them away. “I want to see you, Elizabeth…please…” he begged. Her inner battle between reason and passion was won by the latter – to the delight of all concerned.
When his hand passionately stroked her thighs again, they parted with welcoming desire; his caresses climbed along her legs until they reached her core again, and she moaned loudly, imagining what would follow. Yet, what followed was not what she anticipated. In disbelief, she felt his lips travel down from her breasts to her flat stomach, amuse themselves with her navel, and continue until his mouth passionately bit lightly at her inner thigh. With shocked astonishment, her head spinning, she felt her legs parted, and his burning lips traced a line of fire along her thighs as his voice, hoarse with passion, said, “I want to taste every inch of you, Elizabeth.” She was not certain of his meaning until his kisses moved closer and closer to her core – and at that moment, she stopped breathing.
Her mind was screaming that she must stop whatever he was doing. Yet, the voice of her mind was a weak whisper compared to her body’s demand for more. And what she received when his adoring mouth replaced his fingers was indeed more, and so unbearably intimate that she startled trembling, unconsciously crying his name. Time and the world collapsed around her – there was nothing left except him and the storm of pleasure into which he threw her.
“My beautiful wife…” She barely understood the words of love tickling her ear while his weight suddenly took her breath away. “Please look at me…”
She obeyed instantly, though her eyelashes felt heavy. He was lying upon her, their faces merely inches apart, and his warm breath bore the scent of her own passion.
“It will be painful,” he said with soft concern; yet, what she saw in his dark eyes, more powerful than his obvious care for her, was a profound, barely restrained desire.
She knew it would be painful and had thought she would be afraid of that moment – but she was not. His expression changed again, and his eyes caressed her face with infinite tenderness. His love was so enormous that Elizabeth’s soul melted in it as her body opened to him. With her own love and passion matching his, and with complete, unconditional trust in her husband, Elizabeth offered herself to him. Whatever was to come could not but be marvelous, because it would come from him!
And marvelous it was. He entered her, filled her, and loved her with a tender passion, causing the quick, sharp pain that cut her body to vanish. He was inside her – inside her body as he had been inside her heart for so many months – and each of his thrusts tore through her in the most blissful, astonishing way. Unbearable pleasure and unbearable pain. Her soul was full of love and her body full of passion – his passion and hers together. A cry – his or hers? – waves of fulfilled desire shattering their bodies, her hands embracing him with desperation, his lips covering her face with innumerable kisses, the sound of their wild racing breaths – and nothing more. Silence and blissful happiness.
~/~/~/~ Her hair smelled of jasmine and her body smelled of love – the most intoxicating blend of scents Darcy had ever experienced.
He was lying on the bed, spent yet restless in his desire, holding Elizabeth tightly. Her back was turned against him and her long, silky hair was caressing his chest. He would like to read in her eyes – in her soul – everything she was feeling, everything she was thinking, now that she was his wife. But she was turned to face the fire and seemed to avoid his gaze. Darcy was puzzled and worried.
His body was still unsatisfied in its need, its urge for her, despite the fact that he had just experienced the most exhilarating explosions of pleasure. He still desired her and was angry with himself for this lack of control. He knew he had not been as patient as he should have been. He knew that his pleasure must have been a painful moment for her; he also knew he must have frightened her with his unbridled behavior as he himself was amazed by some of his gestures. She had already been embarrassed by their earlier interlude, and he took her distress in jest. Instead of restraining his passion, he cared for no boundaries – no rules. To kiss her everywhere the way he did – it was something he had never considered before. Yet, touching Elizabeth, kissing her, caressing her seemed the most natural thing to do, and he did not hesitate for a single moment; he had simply been thirsty for her passion and impulsively slaked his thirst. Was she upset?
She did enjoy herself, he was certain of that, at least for some part of their…activities. He remembered vividly the expression of her beautiful face the moment when she had reached the peak of her pleasure. And she hurt too – he also remembered that moment very clearly. What was she feeling now? What was she thinking of him that very moment, lying naked in his arms, covered by bed sheets and her long, soft hair?
“Elizabeth?” He placed a soft kiss on her temple and felt her startling. “Please speak to me, my love.”
Hesitantly, she turned in his arms so they faced each other. Her soft skin brushing his was a sweet, painful torture, which further aroused his desire.
“Do not worry; I am well,” she assured him, still avoiding his gaze.
“You are not, my love. Were you well, I would see your sparkling eyes smiling at me. Was it very painful?”
She finally glanced at him and her eyes were indeed sparkling – only with tears. “No, do not distress yourself, I am well… I am just… I am just being silly; it is of no consequence. I shall be fine by tomorrow.” She nestled to his chest, her cheek resting over his heart. His arms embraced her again and they remained in silence for a time.
“So, you do not trust me enough to tell me what is upsetting you? I know you are not ‘silly’, so there must be another reason.”
“I am jealous,” she burst out nervously. He felt her stiffen, and she seemed to stop breathing, awaiting his reaction.
“Pardon me?” inquired a shocked Darcy, desperately wondering what on earth she could mean. “How can you be jealous?”
“Oh, I told you I am only being silly; you should not have forced me to speak of it!”
He turned her on her back and laid her against the pillows; his inquisitive stare – mere inches away – together with a severe expression and hands holding her possessively told Elizabeth clearly enough she ought not to trifle with him or attempt to escape without a full confession. She was not certain if she should laugh or be angry at her own folly in raising such a preposterous subject in the middle of their wedding night.
“It is obvious that you are not…umm…inexperienced in this matter…and I cannot help wondering how many times you have done this before,” she admitted, her cheeks suddenly pale as she forced herself to keep her eyes locked with his. Her voice was trembling slightly, though she tried to force an embarrassed smile.
He was speechless; his countenance changed visibly while his eyes averted from hers for a moment. His lips opened as if to say something, but he hesitated; his body moved from hers and freed her from his weight. She felt suddenly cold. “William, please forgive me, I know I had no right to start such a conversation, but…”
“Elizabeth…” His fingers shyly caressed her hair while he obviously struggled for proper words. Darcy’s distress was obvious, so she easily understood she was right – and her heart sank and ached. “It is true that this is a very improper conversation for a man to have with his wife, and I am at a loss as to what I should tell you. But I want to assure you that you have every right to ask me anything you want, though sometimes I might not be able to offer you the answers you expect.”
“I understand…” Elizabeth’s voice was trembling, and her long lashes could not hide a tear in the corner of an eye. She tried to smile dejectedly.
“Do you truly want me to speak of this subject?”
“Yes… No… I do not know… We should perhaps sleep now…” She turned her back to him again, facing the fire; a moment later, his arms embraced her again with tender care. She remained motionless but did not reject his attention. More confidently, he pulled her to his chest and his lips moved closer to her ear.
“I shall be as honest as possible, though I dread the thought of having this discussion.” She did not reply; her breath became shallower. “I will confess I am not…inexperienced, as you said. I have had my share of knowledge, as any man of my age, I imagine; certainly less than some of them.”
“Did you keep a mistress?” she whispered, fearing her question would anger him, yet unable to restrain her painful curiosity.
“Never…I never even considered having such an arrangement. In truth,” he said more embarrassed by his own words, “I rarely indulged myself in this kind of…activity… It happened long ago, before my father passed away. During the last years I never had time nor interest in… Oh, heavens! How can I speak of this with you?”
“I am sorry… There is no need to say more.”
“My love, forgive me if I upset you… It is so mortifying for me to have this conversation with you – with anyone, man or woman! What can I possibly do to put your mind at ease on this subject?”
“You did not upset me. How can I be upset for something that happened before you even knew me? Please forgive me. It is my fault; I should not have mentioned this, but I could not help it. The mere thought of you holding another woman as you hold me was―”
“Elizabeth, I have never held any other woman as I hold you,” he interrupted her with a determination close to anger. He pulled her to him so fiercely that she felt suffocated in his embrace. One of his arms tightened its grip around her waist and the other was stroking her shoulder and neck; his warm lips caressed her ear while speaking, and his hoarse voice sent shivers along her body. “I have never imagined I could touch, caress or kiss a woman as I have with you,” he continued, placing soft kisses on her temple. “What we shared this night was equally as new for me as it was for you. Perhaps I did know more of what was to come than you did, and I did fantasize about this moment so many times in the last months. You said that what we shared tonight was unexpected for you. I can say that for me it was so much more exquisite than anything I expected, than anything I dreamed in my lonely nights thinking of you.”
He paused a moment, holding her tightly and searching for her hands; their fingers entwined and now she was truly captive in his arms, her back crushed against his chest. His voice, as tender as a caress added, “Elizabeth, I have known other women before you, but I have never loved anyone except you – either with my heart or my body.”
He felt her breath quicken and her heart beat wildly. She moved slightly in his embrace and turned her head so he could see her face. “Thank you,” was all she replied as her fingers squeezed his lovingly.
“I love you, Elizabeth,” he said, and again there was silence. Darcy was certain she had fallen asleep, but he was proved wrong a few minutes later.
“It was very painful but in a very pleasant way…” she confessed unexpectedly and he startled.
“I am sorry,” he said, somehow distressed, but she chuckled.
“There is no need to be sorry, sir. Becoming your wife has mirrored our relationship from the moment we met until now.”
“What do you mean?” he inquired, puzzled.
“I mean – quite painful at times, occasionally distressing, but in essentials exceptionally enjoyable. I confess I have no cause to repine.”
She laughed, hiding her head against the pillows, and he breathed in relief. Finally, she was her usual self again. He could not see her eyes smiling but could feel her smile through every fiber of his body.
“I am very glad to hear that, Mrs. Darcy,” he said lightheartedly. There was another moment of silence before he continued, “May I dare hope your distress is now gone and you will finally turn to look at me?” His voice was husky and insinuating, and his lips were placing soft kisses along her ear; she shivered but remained still.
“My distress is gone indeed, but I would rather not turn.”
“You would not? Elizabeth, what is the matter? Are you still upset with me?” he asked, quite worried.
“No indeed, sir, quite the contrary. I would rather remain as we are only because I find it very pleasant being held like this,” she admitted.
“Oh, now I see…” He finally understood. His fingers removed the locks of her hair from her ear, baring her cheek and neck, and then continued tenderly to caress her soft skin.
“Then please do not turn around, Mrs. Darcy – I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.”
Elizabeth laughed nervously, suppressing a moan as her skin quivered beneath his kisses. His hands started to move daringly along her body – so fully exposed to his passionate exploration. One hand encircled her waist, stroked her belly and then slid down to her thighs while the other possessively cupped her breasts; his fingers traced tingling circles around each of them, teasing her nipples, which hardened with a desire for more. Her body writhed and pushed against his, imprisoned by his possessive touches; his arms tightened their grip, pulling her closer to him and gently commanding her to obey his wishes. She felt his chest against her back, his strong legs entwined with hers, and his thighs pressing against her bottom. She could feel his desire arousing again, and a sense of fear and passionate desire shattered her body.
“Allow me to make you a promise, Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered and she was not certain if he truly spoke or only the touch of his tongue made her dream it.
“Please do so, sir,” she answered breathlessly. Her head turned a little so her dry lips could finally meet his.
“You said that becoming my wife had been sometimes painful and distressing…”
“And exceptionally enjoyable…”
“I promise that being my wife will never be painful – as long as it is in my power to prevent it.”
“I do trust you in that, sir,” she replied, and that shared promise seemed awkwardly serious considering the circumstances.
“And it will also be much more enjoyable than it has been so far – as long as it is in my power to accomplish it,” he added more lightly, smiling mischievously against her lips, which he eventually captured with passion.
“I do not believe it can get much more enjoyable than what has already transpired between us,” she whispered breathlessly.
“You must trust me in this too, my dearest wife,” he said, barely able to speak as his lips were more agreeably engaged. “As I already said, this is quite a new experience for me as well… I can truthfully say that the more I practice, the more proficient I become – would you not agree?” he continued, his words as teasing and dizzying as his touch.
She would laugh at his shameless promise, but she found herself crying her pleasure as his fingers daringly unfolded the warmth between her thighs. The strokes – long, gentle, and tantalizingly slow at first – turned into a wild torture; she finally turned in his arms to face him, but their eyes met only for a moment as his lips journeyed along her jaw line, briefly tasting her chin before moving to her throat until his hungry mouth reached the softness of her round breasts. His lips closed around her nipple and she cried again, whispering incoherently a few times while passion conquered her again. Moment by moment, the urge, the longing to feel him inside her again grew unbearable, defeating any remnants of fear or pain – and she pleaded with him, begged him until her longing was finally satisfied.
A brief, barely perceptible pain and he entered her again and filled her with renewed, unleashed desire. As she was thrown into a storm of feelings and sensations, wondering how he could be so strong and large – yet fit so perfectly within her – possessive and almost wild in his thrusts, yet so tender and caring, a single coherent thought crossed her mind: he was right again. Now that she was his wife, everything was less painful and more blissfully enjoyable than ever before.