by Lory Lilian
In those significant days since her wedding, Elizabeth learned that, for him as a man, the pleasure, the fulfilment came from the act itself—precisely that part of their lovemaking that was less pleasant for her as it was still a little painful and somewhat awkward.
She did enjoy being united with her husband—she liked it from the first time, despite the considerable pain she had to suffer on their wedding night. She liked to feel his weight upon her, to listen to his cries of pleasure, to feel his passionate thrusts inside her and that warmth spread in her body when his moment came.
Fortunately, the pain had diminished over time and become bearable; perhaps her body had managed to accommodate him, or perhaps it had become accustomed to the pain; regardless, her discomfort was less perceptible day by day. Still, for her, it was not so much her own pleasure, as it was a sense of happiness for sharing that complete intimacy with her beloved husband. It was the final proof that, regarding a wife’s duties, both parts were correct: sharing a marriage bed could be a horribly unpleasant duty, something a woman should try to escape from as much as she could, or it could be an enjoyable affair, something to anticipate eagerly.
Elizabeth was certain their situation was special, as they were—unquestionably—the happiest couple in the world in every respect.
She laughed at her own musings, wondering what Darcy was doing and how long she had been in the tub, lost in her thoughts; she hoped she would have some time to rest a little before they left for Cassandra’s dinner.
The maid helped her out, and then Elizabeth allowed her to retire. She looked at her bed, moved closer to the door and listened carefully. A moment later, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. What was this ridiculous behaviour? Surely, she could knock at her husband’s door if she wanted to know what he was doing.
She did so, and his voice invited her in; he was at his desk, reading some letters.
“Come in, please,” he said, hurrying to take her hand.
“I do not want to disturb you; I was only curious about what you were doing, but please return to your papers. I shall go and rest while you finish.”
“My papers can wait,” he replied. “They held my attention only while you were not here. I can do little when you are away, because I think of you all the time. You are dangerous for my business, Mrs. Darcy.” He placed a long kiss in her palm and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he inquired instantly.
“No…”
“But you shivered.”
“Yes…”
Her voice turned more hesitant as his became graver; he stared at her and a smile twisted his lips.
“I see…” he said.
His thumb traced small circles in her palm where his lips had rested a moment before.
“This is why you shivered?” he inquired, and she felt she was melting. She forced a smile and nodded silently.
“Then we must do something about that shiver,” he concluded and unexpectedly lifted her in his arms. She gasped and put her arms around his neck.
“Shall I take you to your room and allow you to rest? Or will you stay here with me?” he asked seriously, while his strong palm stroked her shoulder. Their eyes were locked, and she easily recognised that expression; his fingers were burning her through the thin fabric and his mouth was now dangerously close to hers.
“But it is the middle of the day,” she managed to say just before their lips joined.
“Yes, I am well aware of that.”
It seemed that he did not really need an answer as he laid her on the bed and moved to her side.
His lips travelled along her face, to her earlobe and down to her neck. When his mouth reached the edge of the gown, his hands abandoned hers and hurried to pull the fabric down; her skin was silkier than the gown and his hungry mouth only hesitated briefly before he tasted it.
She moaned and her back arched toward him; he lifted his eyes to look at her and kissed her lips gently. “Elizabeth, tell me if you want me to stop; if you really want to rest, I will leave you this instant,” he whispered.
“The servant may enter,” she replied breathlessly.
“That is not what I asked you, dearest.” He smiled, kissing her once more. “No one will disturb us if that is your worry. My worry is what you wish me to do.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat; it was full daylight and her husband was only a few inches from her, staring at her with a passion that made her tremble.
“Please cover me with the sheets,” she said. He did so in an instant, as though he was afraid she would change her mind. Yet, there was no danger of that on her part.
By then, her mind and body were both prepared for what would come. She anticipated each touch, each caress, each kiss that followed on her neck, on her shoulders, on her breasts now free from the gown, and then her thighs opened just a moment before his hand travelled there, and she moaned loudly even before his daring fingers touched her. She heard him laughing briefly before he kissed her again. His mouth abandoned hers and started its journey down her body; Elizabeth wondered how it was possible that, though her head was spinning wildly, her mind was registering so vividly every sensation she experienced.
Several exquisite moments later, her body, already consumed by pleasure, started to burn inside, longing for him. Almost instantly, his kisses and caresses became more fervent, and he parted her legs; she felt him lying upon her, careful not to crush her, and she tensed, awaiting the usual pain to come—and to go. He entered her with some urgency, and the expectant cry escaped her lips, but this time her anticipation was wrong.
There was no pain at all. Her body remained still; he noticed and stopped moving.
“Elizabeth?”
Still incredulous, she opened her eyes and met his—and she breathed deeply as she smiled at him.
For the first time in their marriage, her body started to move first, tentatively, then more and more confidently. She was not sure what was happening, nor did she dare to think of it too much. The rhythm of his thrusts soon became wilder and deeper, and she was certain that moment would come soon, and for the first time, she wished it would last longer. However, she was wrong again.
His movements slowed, and she felt his torso rising up from her; through her eyelashes, she saw him kneeling between her thighs, staring at her. She was completely exposed to his eyes now, the sheet long gone. He continued to move inside her slowly as his hands caressed her legs, her hips, her belly, and finally rested upon her breasts and cupped them with renewed possessiveness. She cried so loudly that he pressed a finger to her lips, and then leaned down to cover her mouth with his.
She could feel him pulsing inside her and thrusting harder. Her hips joined that pace, as eager as his were, and they moved together until, in desperate need of air, she broke their kiss.
She cried out again, shocked by another novelty: each of his thrusts built a fire inside her that spread and burned her very core, igniting every inch of her skin. Waves of pleasure shattered her body and she was certain she had fainted. She was proved wrong—again—when she felt that well-known warmth cooling the fire inside her and his weight falling upon her.
“Oh my God, Elizabeth…” he whispered, kissing her palm tenderly as they lay side by side.
Her fingers caressed his, but she did not look at him yet.
“What happened?” he inquired and held his breath.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—it was…somehow different. You were different…”
He could not find the proper words, and only continued to caress her hand gently before pulling her to his chest. She sighed and remained silent, her fingers entwined with his.
“Elizabeth…? I know you were not comfortable to do that now in full daylight, but I hope you feel confident enough to tell me if my insistence upset you.”
“You did not upset me; you know that, but I am not completely at ease yet. I mean—we never…during the day,” she replied with obvious embarrassment. “O
n the other hand, you cannot expect me to become completely at ease with every aspect of marriage in less than a week, can you, sir?”
He laughed and kissed her other hand. “You are correct, of course, my dearest.” He paused, and she felt him looking carefully at her while his voice betrayed his amusement.
“Perhaps if we were to practice daily, any uneasiness would pass very soon.”
“You are insufferable, sir!” she censured him. His insinuating flirtation succeeded in easing her embarrassment, and his obvious good mood gave her the courage to confess her intimate secret.
“It was different than before, you were right…”
“In a good way?” he interrupted her, hesitantly, and she chuckled.
“In a very good way,” she admitted, averting her eyes for a moment. “For the first time, there was no pain at all when you…you know…” She blushed.
To Elizabeth’s surprise, instead of words of relief, a long silence followed. She could see the concern in his eyes, while a furrow of worry appeared between his eyebrows.
“Elizabeth, what are you saying? Do you mean that, until now, every time was painful for you?”
She tried to find the words to explain, but he continued, his face pale. “So all this time I hurt you?”
“William, you never hurt me. It is just that—
“Please, my love, you know what I meant. Were you in pain each and every time?”
She nodded, suddenly regretting her unfortunate slip of words.
“Was I so demanding, so insistent that you could not resist me? Why did you not tell me?”
“Tell you what, William? I knew that, for a woman, it would be painful. I expected it to be so. I expected it to be even worse, but it is gone now. I confess that the intimacy of marriage is more…enjoyable than I expected and hoped it would be.”
He seemed to pay attention more to his own thoughts than to her words as his torment grew. “I had no idea, no idea at all. In my selfishness, I was certain you enjoyed sharing your bed with me. I thought you welcomed my attentions.”
“I do, William! Trust me, my husband; you have no reason to worry, and I have no reason to complain. The pain has diminished each time since our wedding night, and I became accustomed to it. Besides, how could I have refused you something that gave you so much pleasure when you have been so generous and caring with me every time? I enjoy being with you; I cannot and I do not want to resist you,” she concluded with a loving glance.
He looked at her blankly, rose from the bed and hurried to pour himself a glass of wine; he gulped a little, threw the glass in the fire, and paced the room. She was startled.
“Good God, I shall never learn! Will I never be able to see your true feelings and wishes? I see only what I want to see! Again and again, it is all about my desires and— Oh heavens, I practically forced myself upon you.”
“William, please come here,” she demanded. She had to repeat her request before he tentatively stepped closer to the bed. She reached her hands to him, forcing him to stay there, and then encircled his neck with her arms.
“My dear Mr. Darcy, allow me to tell you how much I love and admire you, though sometimes you are such an utter and complete fool! Do you not know how I long for your kisses, for your caresses, for your warmth? How can you believe you forced me to accept you? Did I not tell you—did you not see yourself—how much joy, how much pleasure, how much bliss I find in your arms? You want to know if it was painful? Yes, it was; in truth, the first time was so painful that I thought my body was cut in two.”
“Elizabeth—
“Let me finish, please! However, I would gladly bear ten times that pain for the happiness of feeling you with me…inside me! How can you doubt that you have seen my true feelings and wishes? Can you not feel my regard for you? If not, that would truly hurt me!”
“Elizabeth…” he interrupted her again. His strong palms cupped her face, and he held her thus for a moment, speaking to her only with his eyes. He was still heavyhearted, she could see that, and the emotions of the day almost overwhelmed her; soon she could not bear his stare any longer.
“I would like to rest a little,” she said.
“Of course, my love.” He expected her to retire to her room, but she simply leaned back on the pillow and closed her eyes. He covered her and then lay by her side; she started to breathe steadily and cuddle against his chest. After a while, he felt her moving in his arms.
“William, we are such fools. Why did we argue, after all? I mean…we should have been happy…you know…after…”
“We did not argue, my love. We just — It was my fault. I am the only fool here; you have to grant me that. A very happy fool, though,” he admitted as she laughed, and then she sighed and finally fell asleep.
***
It was quite difficult for Darcy to wake her an hour later. When he finally succeeded, she could barely open her eyes, so he offered her a little coffee.
“Hmmm…” She watched him carefully. “You seem in a good mood, sir. Have you slept as well?”
“No, I have not. I have employed my time much better.”
“Oh, I see.” She put her cup down and leaned closer to him. “And may I inquire as to what employment has made you so cheerful in such a short time?”
“It is no secret, madam. I stayed here and watched you while you slept.”
She opened her eyes in surprise. “You watched me?”
He leaned toward her so they almost touched each other. “That I admired you would be a better choice of words. And I recollected some special moments…”
“Oh— She found nothing more to say.
“Can you guess of what moments I am speaking?”
“I cannot, sir. And I have no time for these kinds of games; it is already very late. We must hurry.” She felt uncomfortable as she tried to arrange her gown and climb out of bed, but he held her arm, and she was forced to look at him.
“You did enjoy yourself today, did you not?” he suddenly asked, and her cheeks instantly turned crimson. She did not expect that conversation to start once more; however, he continued as his thumb brushed over her lips. “It was the first time you took your pleasure at almost the same moment I did; am I right? God, you were so beautiful, my love, and I was so happy I could see you. I love seeing you in the full light of day.”
“You are embarrassing me,” she whispered against his fingers.
“I thought we decided you would never feel embarrassed with me.”
“Truly sir, feeling embarrassed is not something I can control. I do not possess your self-discipline,” she teased him. Her palm was still on his face, and he turned his head to kiss it.
“My discipline always evaded me in your presence. As for mortifying you—please forgive me. I will try to be less honest in my expressions if that would please you. ”
He gently laid her against the pillow. “You must learn to tell me what pleases you, Mrs. Darcy.”
She felt she was melting, incapable of replying as his fingers touched her lips and parted them slowly. His tantalising mouth abandoned her hand and moved to her neck. “Is this pleasant enough, Mrs. Darcy?”
She licked her lips and turned her head to face him; she longed for his kisses, and when his mouth finally captured hers, she moaned with satisfaction. His body brushed against hers, and she started moving beneath him. She knew they should stop immediately and prepare for dinner, yet she hoped that he would not remember their engagement. She was shocked to discover how much she desired his attention such a short while after their previous interlude, yet she could not help herself.
Her arms encircled his neck, and his weight crushed her against the sheets; she felt herself burning inside, and cold shivers travelled along her skin. She quivered, awaiting his touches.
And then he stopped and separated from her, struggling to breathe again. “We should start preparing for dinner, my love, or else we shall arrive when the others are leaving.”
She closed her eyes,
struggling for air and only nodded in agreement. She was unable to speak—or to think—and all she hoped for was to regain some composure before she returned to her room.
His gentle kiss on her forehead made her open her eyes, and she faced his joyful, mischievous gaze.
“Are you well, dearest? Shall I bring you some water? You look quite flushed.”
He seemed amused and satisfied with himself, but Elizabeth was not pleased at all. Was he toying with her? He surely would not dare!
A sudden knock at the door startled her, and she hurried up from the bed, desperately trying to arrange her gown. In no rush, Darcy put on his robe and opened the door without allowing the servant to enter. In the meantime, Elizabeth brushed her gown and passed through the adjoining room to her chamber, disappearing before being seen in such a state. In the privacy of her room, she filled a glass with water, swallowed it instantly, and then poured another. Her thirst was difficult to slake.
As she began to breathe steadily again and prepared to call for her maid, Darcy appeared in the doorway.
“Why did you run?”
“Why? Surely I could not stay to be seen by your servant in such a state.”
“But I already told you there is no need to worry; no servant will ever enter my bedroom without my permission. However, I imagine there will be times when he will see you in your indoor gowns as I hope you will visit my room quite often.” He tried to tease her, but she was still uneasy
“You know very well that it was not about my indoor gown, but about my whole appearance. I looked as—
“You looked as though you had just been passionately loved by your husband and were willing to be loved again,” he said without even lowering his voice. “We can only hope that the next hours will pass quickly and we can return to continue what we started.”
She blushed violently and did not have time to reply before he kissed her hand and left the room with the same mischievous smile on his face. He was indeed very pleased with himself; that was quite clear now.
She remembered those nights they spent together before being married; he told her she was torturing him with her caresses and with the power she had over him. Surely, that power was gone now—or was all in his hands. She blushed at her own choice of words—indeed it was all in his hands, in his kisses, in his—Oh, this will not do! What is happening to me?
