Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Elizabeth dressed for bed and paced with a mixture of tension and excitement.
She was ending the day with a complete reversal of her situation, and at various moments was certain she would laugh from happiness at finally being assured of Darcy’s love or laugh from nerves at knowing what was to happen now.
She had to appear at least outwardly composed before Darcy entered. She knew enough of his character that if she appeared unsettled, he was certain to not spend the night with her.
She tried to remember what Jane had told her, and almost wished she had asked Hester if she had any helpful advice.
What was slyly spoken of at weddings and christenings were perhaps the most useful hints she had.
But they were two intelligent, curious people who loved each other; how difficult could it be?
There was a soft knock, and the door opened. Darcy entered with a hurried air, and she saw him bend and flex his fingers as though his hand had shaken whilst he closed the door.
“You are here,” she said, rather dumbly, she realised.
He tilted his head. “Did your heart prophecise some mischance? Did you think I would get lost?” He smiled. “You cannot have thought that I would change my mind.”
Elizabeth shook her head as he came nearer, noticing that he had also dressed for bed.
She wondered if she ought to unfasten his wrapping gown or let him do it.
Should she take her dressing gown off first?
He gave her a long, conscious look; she hoped he was as eager as she was.
Darcy might be able to hear how loudly her heart was beating.
“You seem thoughtful,” Darcy said quietly. “What are you feeling?”
“I feel overpowering happiness.” He did not appear to believe her. “Perhaps some trepidation too.”
“We don’t have—”
“I want to,” she said quickly. “I am simply wondering what it will be like. But I won’t have an answer if we only stand here looking at one another.”
She smiled and stepped closer, but he did not open his arms as she expected.
“Before, there was a self-imposed line beyond which I would not go,” he said haltingly. “That does not matter now because we are going to marry. But all of my love and respect for you will remain exactly the same no matter what you decide.”
“I already decided,” she said firmly. “I am not confused about what I want.” Only about how to do it.
“I need not retract or qualify anything,” he said in a tone of sincere tenderness, “but I leave it entirely to you to decide what will happen now.”
“Then I have decided,” she said slowly, “that we are overdressed.” Elizabeth unfastened each button on his wrapping gown.
His breath came out in a rush, and he untied hers and slipped it off before tossing his to the chair.
Darcy’s fingers came back to her shoulders, delicately brushing along her skin at the edge of her shift.
He wore only a long nightshirt, and she had a thought of how soon would it be before they were wearing nothing at all.
Darcy was still silent and unmoving aside from his fingertips tracing back and forth.
He must have meant it when he said I had to decide what would happen.
She smiled before bringing her hands to his face and kissing him.
He wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her against him.
It was a tender kiss that quickly changed into a more passionate meeting of tongues and an ardent pressure of lips.
She let out a whimper when he moved his palm to her breast, and he pulled back abruptly.
“I am sorry.” Darcy would not look her in the eye and had even held up his hand in surrender.
Elizabeth shook her head and took his hand to move it back. “Only be sorry if you stop.”
His eyes darkened and an alertness came into them. He nodded slightly before tugging her body flush with his again. He kissed her roughly and palmed her breast harder, this time not stopping or slowing when she moaned. It was as though he had finally accepted that she was willing and eager.
She closed her eyes until she felt the soft pressure of his lips against her neck. She had never felt anything like this, his teeth nipping behind her ear, one hand slowly twisting in her hair, the other tugging open the drawing string at her bodice to touch her breasts.
He brought his gaze to her eyes before tracing his hands down to gather the fabric of her shift in his hand. “May I take this off?”
When she nodded, he pulled it up and over her head.
As he stared at her, a small sound came from his throat that she had never heard before, and Elizabeth wanted to hear him make it over and over.
She wanted to kiss and touch every part of him, but her mouth was incapable of forming words when Darcy looked at her like that.
Instead, she gestured vaguely to his nightshirt to show how she wanted that last piece of linen gone.
Darcy took it off far too slowly for her liking, but at least by the time he pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, she already had a satisfying glimpse of him before he wrapped her in his arms again and kissed her feverishly.
He wants me as much as I want him.
She ran her hands across his shoulders and then pressed kisses down his chest. He started, and she pulled back, surprised. Darcy shook his head, smiling. “Don’t stop—only, no one has ever—” He swallowed thickly and gave her a heated look. “No one has stroked their fingers or kissed me there.”
She kissed his chest a few more times, tracing her fingers across him before putting her arms around him.
Although they had just seen each other naked for the first time, there was something just as intimate about her bare breasts pressed against his chest. He kissed her over and over, flicking his tongue against hers, tentatively at first, but then with a passion that made her moan and rock her hips against him.
Darcy then pulled away to look into her eyes. “I love you.”
She whispered, “I love you too,” and kissed the side of his neck, which earned her a tremor.
It made her wonder how Darcy might react if she kissed the inside of his thighs in the same way.
His breath came faster when she softly touched him there, and he brought a hand to her jaw to draw her back to his lips.
Their tongues were stroking against each other, teeth nipping, when he shuddered at the tight grip of her hand around him.
“We can stop with this,” he said in a rasp that made her never want to stop touching him this way.
“Do you want to stop?” She would not believe him if he said yes.
“No,” he said through a moan, “but I want you to be happy both tonight and when you wake up tomorrow.”
“I am eager . . .”
Darcy heard something in her voice and drew back, and she dropped her hand. He pushed the hair back from her face and gave her a sympathetic look, waiting for her to speak.
“Just . . . inexperienced, I guess.”
“So am I. I think we will understand everything quickly enough.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and lightly ran his hands down her body to rest on her hips. “Besides,” he said in a low voice, “we seem to be doing well so far.”
“Jane said—”
“Don’t tell me,” he said seriously. When she frowned, he added, “Anything you learnt from Jane is intrinsically tied to Bingley, and I will live happier without knowing what he is like behind closed doors.”
She laughed, and he laughed along with her, and the rest of her tension dissolved and left her only with wanting the first object of her warmest, devoted love.
Elizabeth laced her fingers together at his neck, and when she opened her mouth to his, Darcy drew his hands low beneath her backside and squeezed.
When he nibbled at her bottom lip, they were soon kissing again the way she wanted, all tongue and teeth and unrestrained passion.
“I want to take you to bed.”
His voice was rougher than before, heavy with desire for something more. She felt him against her, hot and insistent. It made her faint with pleasure as she nodded. His expression was more expectant, more confident now as he walked her backward to the bed, kissing her hard along the way.
The back of her legs hit the bed and she ran her hands across his bare chest, saying, “I have wanted this all week.”
Elizabeth was flat on her back before she could take a breath, and the look on Darcy’s face sent a rush of heat down her body. He joined her on the bed and lowered his mouth to one breast whilst bringing his hand to stroke the other. When that hand moved lower, she arched into him with a sigh.
It was both blissful and strange to be touched where she had never been touched by anyone else.
He was too slow at first, or maybe a little uneasy, to fully satisfy her, but that did nothing to quell the desire that had been building since Darcy entered her room.
She wondered if she should tell him exactly what to do, but there was an aspect to it that was intuitive.
She could tell he focused on the subtle changes in her breathing or the way that she shifted her hips when he touched her.
“Like that?” Darcy’s voice was low in her ear before kissing along her neck.
She tried to speak, but all that she managed was a nod and a long moan. Soon she was in a frenzy of passion that was unlike anything she had felt before. Elizabeth answered him more fully by throwing an arm around him and kissing him, their kisses fervent until she gave a deep cry.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy whispered, tracing his thumb across her lips. Her eyes fluttered open to see him looking intently at her. His eyes were wonderfully dark, and full of an open warmth. “You are beautiful.”
The compliment took her aback, and she gave a nervous laugh. “You sound surprised.” She doubted she looked beautiful since she was certain her face was flushed, she was covered in sweat, and she knew her hair was plastered about her face.