Mr. & Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One

by Sharon Lathan

  Elizabeth’s hands were around his neck, fingers massaging his scalp through his thick hair. She was watching him, eyes full of love and trust and desire with only a hint of nervousness. She seemed quite unafraid; however, Darcy knew this could change if he moved too fast. He stroked her cheek and jaw line and neck, all areas he had touched before, successfully bringing her enjoyment. She quivered and sighed, closing her eyes.

  “I love you so very much, Elizabeth,” he whispered against her lips. “Do not be afraid. I promise to be gentle.” He lightly kissed every delicate feature of her face, ending at the sensitive area behind her ear. “You must show me what you like. Tell me in words or, if this embarrasses you, simply relax your body and I will know by your reactions. We shall learn from each other, my precious. Do you understand, my love?”

  She nodded and whispered, “I love you, William. I am not afraid.” She proved her words by rubbing her hands down his back and turning slightly to her side, loosely draping one leg over his and pulling him toward her. They both gasped simultaneously. She, from the feel of his incredible heat and hardness. He, from her unexpectedly bold action, which threatened to undo him.

  He swallowed and inhaled vigorously. He opened his eyes to see her gazing at him, an expression of wonder and a small smile on her lips. He kissed her then, a kiss unlike any they had yet shared. The joy of being able to abandon all restraint and to explore each other’s mouths was exhilarating. They surrendered themselves fully to the excitement to be gained from indulgent kisses. For a time all the focus was on the transcendent joy of shared breath and moisture.

  Hands began moving of their own volition. Darcy untied her gown and exposed her shoulders and breasts without coherent forethought. Lizzy delighted in the muscles of his back and shoulders and arms. He was soft and rough at the same time, and it inflamed her further. Darcy trailed his fingers down her collar to her shoulder and then to her soft bosom. Fire trailed feathering fingertips; shivers of heat and ice coursed through their flesh.

  His mouth left her lips and traveled over her neck. Soft kisses interspersed with tiny nibbles and feather touches of his warm mouth passed across her shoulders and fragile collarbones. Lizzy sighed and trembled in pleasure. Darcy was jolted with almost excruciating waves of satisfaction. Her taste was bliss, her warmth exquisite, her soft vocalizations heavenly. Lizzy arched involuntarily, exposing her neck to his moist lips and tongue, all the while caressing solid shoulders. One would be hard pressed to say who was more deeply affected.

  “Beautiful love,” he murmured against her throat, “so unbelievably beautiful. How deeply I love you my Elizabeth, my wife.” Gradually, so very tenderly, he traveled wet kisses to her breasts. Never had he imagined anything as beautiful as the feel of her flesh under his lips and tongue. It was rapturous! She moaned, pulling his head harder onto her breasts with sharp clenches in his hair.

  “William, sweet love. Please do not stop.”

  He spent endless stunning minutes of ecstasy teasing and tasting the perfection of her bosom, with one hand caressing lightly over her satin-clad waist. He rose, urgently needing to gaze upon her precious face. Her eyes opened, glazed and inundated with a passion never revealed before, as she looked upon him.

  Darcy rolled his upper body over hers, heat seeping into her very bones, and leaned up on his elbows to caress her breasts, purposefully arousing her. “Are you well, beloved? Does this please you?”

  She swallowed, nodding faintly. “William, I… I cannot describe… your touch moves me so. Oh, please, love, please kiss me!” she moaned, offering lush parted lips with obvious yearning, hands tight on his shoulders.

  He reclaimed her mouth, groaning deep in his throat, delving into the depths of her mouth possessively and completely. Lizzy held his neck in a savage grip, meeting his kiss with equal passion and enthusiasm, her other hand exploring brazenly. She involuntarily curved her hips toward him, unwittingly increasing pressure to his leg and other sensitive parts.

  “Elizabeth!” he gasped and released her slightly, raggedly gulping for air. He dropped his head to her chest and forced himself to stop moving, frantically seizing the frayed edges of his control.

  “William, my love! I am sorry. Did I hurt you somehow?” Her voice was full of anxiety.

  Darcy could not explain why it struck him as humorous, but it did. He laughed faintly, breath tickling her sensitive bosom, and shook his head. He kissed each perfect breast and then lifted up to look upon her amazing face. “No, my precious, you did not hurt me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I am frankly becoming undone by the bliss I am feeling being in your arms… touching you… kissing you. I must slow down. Ah, my beautiful wife, you have absolutely no idea how I yearn for you!”

  She smiled happily and rose up to his lips. “Yes, Fitzwilliam,” she purred, “I do know. I yearn for you as well and do not wish to slow down.” She kissed him playfully as she had so longed to do, teasing his lips, tasting the skin of his jaw, exploring the cleft in his chin. Her fingers moved freely over his face and neck, toying with his ear folds as fire ignited anew over his flesh.

  He passively allowed her investigation but was tremendously affected. He had managed to regain a semblance of control but he realized with certainty that he could not persevere for much longer. His arousal and ardor had reached a point bordering on pain. God, he needed to make her his! It was an uncontainable force burning through his very soul. He still refused to rush to the degree that he might hurt her or fail to bring her to total fulfillment; however, he needed to step up the pace. He felt her tremors, heard her sighs of longing, and knew what to do.

  “Elizabeth,” he asked huskily, “may I please see all of you?”

  Her answer was to gently push him away as she sat up in the bed. He propped himself up with his arm and avidly watched her. She flushed in embarrassment at his intense stare but daringly did as he wished, gaze averted. She wiggled her arms and the top part of her gown fell to her waist. Darcy’s eyes drank in the vision of her newly exposed skin. She was lovelier than he had imagined, absolutely stunning. She gripped the fabric at her waist and, with a quick lift of her bottom, pulled her gown past her hips.

  A guttural groan escaped Darcy’s throat, startling Lizzy yet sending a massive surge of heat lancing through her body. Darcy snapped out of his entrancement, reaching over and running the back of his hand along her inner thigh as he peeled the gown off her legs, tossing it absently away. Lizzy quivered at his touch, sighed deeply, and closed her eyes.

  “My God, Elizabeth! You are perfect and so stunningly beautiful.” He swallowed, eyes leaving her body with difficulty to meet her glittering gaze. With agonizing patience he reached to brush trembling fingertips over her skin, collarbone to nipples to ripe breasts to navel and then along her shapely legs. Lizzy was panting in short gasps, examining his intense expression, and discovering the rising ardency gained from his clear adoration of her form and the indescribable titillation of his touch.

  Gradually her gaze left his face to move over his body, truly seeing him for the first time. Blushes crept over her cheeks, but she could not pull her eyes from the beauty of his shape. That he was powerfully built she had ascertained even through his clothing, but she had not known the raw manliness evident in the defined muscles of his torso. Black hairs, profuse over his chest but compacting into a heavy patch between his pectorals, trailed in a thick line down a hard, flat abdomen to join a much denser patch at his groin. Her eyes widened and she hastily glanced away, cheeks flushing further at the instant ache felt deep inside her belly. Never had she envisioned such virility or the raging response she felt to all she saw and all he was doing to her. With a shuddering moan, she closed her eyes.

  “Lie back, my love,” he commanded tensely. She did so as he repositioned himself. Lizzy thought this was it, and she was mildly frightened but mostly elated. She was mistaken. He gently began raining warm wet kisses over her abdomen, firm hands caressing everywhere. The sensations that he educed transcended
anything she had yet experienced. He was unrelenting but always tender in his stimulation, arousing her to places unimaginable, the previous fervency insignificant compared to what she now felt. Forever, so it seemed, he caressed and kissed. Not an inch of her skin was left unfazed by his devotion.

  Dizziness consumed her. Time lost all meaning. Soft whispers of love flowed from his lips as he traveled about her flesh. Her body writhed and shivered uncontrollably and strange vocalizations emitted from parted lips until eventually the sensations coalesced into a nearly terrifying intensity. All she knew for certain was that she required fulfillment from him immediately or she was likely to perish from the aching need.

  “William!” she shouted, “I need you! Please!”

  At her cry he moved until fully on top of her. His fiery body pressed into hers as he twined one hand into her hair and around her neck, passionately claiming her mouth with a throaty groan. Simultaneously his other hand grasped the back of one knee, pulling her leg up and around his waist as he joined with her, lovingly consummating their marriage and bond.

  Darcy groaned, the joy of feeling his wife surrounding him and at one with him nearly more than he could handle. It was Lizzy’s gasp of pain and instant stiffening that restored his clarity.

  “Relax, my love,” he murmured, “it only hurts for a moment.” To prove the truth of his words, he stilled, caressing softly and kissing deeply until she eased. Gazing into her trusting eyes, his own glittering indigo and brimming with adoration, he waited.

  “We are one, my beloved. Joined together. Hearts and bodies bound now and forever. Oh, Lord, Elizabeth! How I love you! You are mine and I am yours for all eternity. Release your tension, precious love. I will be gentle.” He spoke softly, caressing and kissing.

  Lizzy smiled, gently tightening the legs wrapped over his waist and gliding her fingertips over his cheeks. “Love me, William. Complete making me your wife,” she whispered, eyes slipping shut in rapture as she lifted her mouth to his.

  He closed his eyes and moaned, moving unhurriedly, suppressing his flaming yearning until fervor replaced her discomfort. Afterwards, Darcy would be amazed at himself for finding the control to set a leisurely pace. His restraint was short lived, however, due to her reawakened passion. His pace quickened with a feverish hunger, Lizzy spurring him on. It was nirvana! Pleasure and gratification as never before experienced. They surrendered themselves to the spiraling sensations of pure pleasure and cried each other’s names while clinging to each other in a desperate attempt to meld further.

  Darcy collapsed onto her, too exhausted and satiated to move. Lizzy wrapped her limbs even tighter about him while tears of joy leaked from her eyes. Neither of them could have verbalized then, or ever, the riot of emotions swirling inside. Suffice to say, nothing had prepared either of them for the satisfaction, contentment, and unadulterated ecstasy of the reality.

  How long they lay entwined, their wits rattled, hearts racing, and breathing erratic, they never knew. Lizzy moved first by planting kisses along Darcy’s sweat-glistened shoulder and neck, repeating I love you as a litany. With a final shuddering exhale, Darcy rose slightly so that he could see his wife. They simply looked upon each other for long moments. Darcy caressed her face and kissed gently. He started to move off her, but she tenaciously clutched him.

  “Do not leave!”

  “Am I not crushing you?”

  “No,” she assured him, grasping him even tighter with arms and legs. “I love the feel of you.” She blushed slightly, ridiculous under the circumstances, and he chuckled.

  “As you command, my wife.” He kissed her, lingering over her soft warm lips. “My wife,” he whispered, “mine, all mine, and only mine. My Lizzy. Forever. I love you so. We are wholly and utterly one now, my love. I am yours, my heart, forever.”

  He caressed her body lazily, delighting in her silky skin and firm muscles. His thumb brushed along the edge of one breast where it swelled from under his chest. His kisses traveled over her neck to her ear.

  Lizzy tantalized him with hands and legs. She discovered the enticing spectacle of round, tight buttocks. His taut muscular legs, hairs rough against her smoothness, sent shivers up her spine. The musky smell of his familiar cologne now mixed with perspiration and their love intoxicated her. Neither dreamed of breaking the contact, their bodies fused on every plane. Satiation and bliss attained so few minutes ago only whetted their appetite for each other, heightening their senses.

  They were both agreeably surprised to find themselves becoming stimulated so soon. Lizzy, having no previous experience to draw from, took it in stride, assuming it was normal. Darcy was frankly stupefied to recognize excitement resurging so soon, his desire for her so intense as to become profoundly aroused mere minutes after such an incredible, soul-unifying crescendo.

  He may have been surprised, but he certainly was not disappointed! This time their coupling was altogether different. Following so quickly upon their previous gratification, Darcy was in much better control. His stamina was amplified tremendously, with mutual approval. They kissed and caressed wherever they could reach, both experimenting with altering pressures and rhythms. Gradually they attuned themselves to their partner’s sighs and moans as a gauge for what was especially pleasurable. Occasionally they spoke, but they soon found that sensations, actions, and sounds were preferable.

  It seemed to continue forever. As one would near the point of bursting, the other would slow their actions, increasing the aching and craving. Time and again they came near the pinnacle only to pull back for further enjoyment. Eventually it was more than they could bear, and both were taken by acute spasms that shook them head to toe in rapture beyond the words to convey.

  Quite some time later, they lay blissfully depleted and satiated, limbs entangled. Elizabeth’s head lay partly on Darcy’s shoulder and partly on a pillow so she could admire his face. They were awake but drowsy, talking softly, enjoying simply being together in such sweet harmony. Darcy played with her hair where it cascaded over his arm, while Elizabeth traced lazy circles over his chest and stomach. They spoke of silly things, small talk, more to hear each other’s voices than for any purpose.

  The final acts of love had been far superior to any imaginings either of them had entertained. Darcy, never a great admirer of romantic poetry, finally understood. Each day, each moment with Elizabeth had transcended the one before. Tonight they had reached dizzying heights, and it honestly seemed impossible to love her more.

  Darcy would have had to confess that he believed his heart would burst if he experienced anything beyond what he felt at this moment. He had told her, when he proposed the second time, that she had bewitched him body and soul, and it was true. Now he knew that she owned him, lived inside of him, kept his heart beating, and gave him purpose. If it had not felt so very right, it might have terrified him.

  Real life intruded when Darcy’s stomach growled loudly and abruptly as if in response to Lizzy’s fingers, which had been playfully examining his navel. They both laughed at the absurdity of it.

  “Hungry, darling?” Elizabeth asked. “Have your recent exertions increased your appetite?”

  “I have eaten sparsely today, my love. Nerves, I suppose.” He rolled onto his side and began kissing her bare shoulder. “I was much more interested in satisfying other hungers so that I ignored my more basic needs. What is food compared to your love?”

  “Very pretty. However, I am beginning to experience pangs of my own. The Hamiltons have supplied us with an abundance of food and it would be rude to ignore it,” Elizabeth said, but then grinned mischievously as she ran her hand along his inner thigh. “Besides, we must take care to restore our energies, do you not agree, beloved?”

  He quickly snared her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each of her fingers lingeringly. “You minx! I do believe a tigress has been unleashed tonight!” He pulled her to him and indulged in several kisses before again being interrupted by a loud growl from his empty stomach.
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  “Poor Mr. Darcy!” she laughed.

  “Stay warm, Elizabeth. I shall fetch your robe and stoke the fire.” With a last kiss, Darcy left the bed and retrieved his robe from where it had been unceremoniously discarded by the sofa.

  Elizabeth propped herself up on one elbow, the better to watch her handsome husband. Contentment flowed through her entire being as she lay so relaxed in the large bed. It had been an arduous day full of countless anxieties and abounding wonders. She was tired yet exhilarated at the same time. Happiness was a palpable entity that surrounded her and permeated her very soul. Just observing him performing the mundane task of adding logs to the fire was a pleasure beyond imagining. How is it possible to love someone this much? She asked herself. Is it normal? Probably not, but it certainly was magnificent and she would not wish it any other way.

  Darcy returned from her dressing room with a thick robe and helped her into it. Or more precisely he delayed the process with numerous kisses and caresses, but Elizabeth did not mind. Finally they sat on the rug before the now raging fire with the platter of food on the floor. Darcy popped the well-chilled champagne and poured them each a glass. “To us,” he toasted, “the happiest couple on the face of the earth!”

  Darcy attacked the superb provisions with relish and Elizabeth was not too far behind. They had fun with the process: feeding each other morsels, licking and sucking each other’s fingers, and kissing honey-smeared lips. Eventually even Darcy’s appetite was quenched and, with a satisfied sigh, he reclined on an enormous pillow. Elizabeth leaned against his bent knee and gazed dreamily into the fire. Neither spoke. Words were unnecessary. A warm blanket of peace and bliss covered them.

  Darcy began to drift into sleep, warm and relaxed by the fire. Lizzy was lazily caressing the leg and knee she leaned against and the sensation was calming. As far as Darcy was concerned, life could not possibly get any better than this. He closed his eyes and sighed.

  Elizabeth turned to gaze at her husband. He had a soft smile on his lips, hair in disarray, and one arm raised above his head and the other lying across his stomach. The robe was loosely tied so most of his chest was exposed. She recognized that, despite the intimacies of the last hours, she actually had not had the opportunity to examine her husband’s form closely, as she had teasingly told him she needed to do.