Chapter 4 #3
“Then we shall discover it together.” Darcy reached for her hand, turning it palm upward and tracing the delicate lines with his fingertip.
“The body has many sensitive places. Like here.” He stroked the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his touch.
“And here.” His fingers traveled up her arm, the thin muslin of her nightgown doing little to diminish the warmth of her skin beneath.
Elizabeth watched his movements with fascination, her breathing growing shallower as his caresses became more intimate. When his hand finally came to rest at the base of her throat, where her pulse beat visibly, she swallowed convulsively.
“Your heart races.”
“Yes.” The single word conveyed both admission and permission.
Emboldened, Darcy leaned forward to replace his fingers with his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the hollow of her throat.
Elizabeth’s sharp intake of breath encouraged him to continue, trailing his mouth along the curve of her neck to the sensitive spot behind her ear.
When his lips touched it, she shivered, her hand coming up involuntarily to grasp his shoulder.
“That is most distracting,” she whispered.
“Pleasantly so, I hope?” Darcy murmured against her skin.
“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted. “Though I had not expected...”
“Expected?” he prompted when she fell silent.
She turned her face toward his, their lips now mere inches apart. “I had not expected to feel so much.”
He kissed her again, more deeply this time, his hand sliding into her hair to cradle her head. Elizabeth responded with growing confidence, her lips parting beneath his, allowing him to taste the sweetness of her mouth.
When they separated, both breathing more rapidly, Darcy rested his forehead against hers. “You must tell me if anything I do causes discomfort,” he said. “Your pleasure is important to me.”
Elizabeth’s eyes searched his. “I had thought men concerned primarily with their own satisfaction in such matters.”
“Some men, perhaps,” Darcy acknowledged. “But I find the idea of your pleasure... stimulating.”
Her eyes widened at this, either in curiosity or in shock. “You are not what I expected, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“Nor you, Elizabeth Darcy,” he replied, savoring the sound of her new name on his tongue. “May I continue?”
At her nod, Darcy gently guided her to lie back against the pillows before stretching out beside her, careful to maintain some space between their bodies.
He resumed his exploration with light touches, tracing the delicate architecture of her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, the slope of her arm.
Each caress was designed to accustom her to his touch, to build trust alongside desire.
When his hand finally brushed against the swell of her breast through the thin muslin, Elizabeth tensed momentarily before relaxing into the sensation.
Encouraged, Darcy allowed his palm to cup the gentle weight, his thumb brushing across the peak.
Elizabeth’s soft gasp and the way her body arched toward his touch told him more than words could.
“You are exquisite,” he murmured, bending to press his lips to her forehead. “Every part of you.”
“You cannot know that yet.”
Darcy smiled against her skin. “Then I must continue my investigation.”
His hand moved lower, skimming her waist and hip before returning to safer territory. “With your permission, of course.”
“You have it,” she whispered.
With gentle persistence, Darcy continued his careful exploration of her body through the barrier of her nightgown, learning which touches made her breath catch and which caused that fascinating arch of her back.
When he judged her sufficiently at ease with his caresses, he tugged at the ribbon that secured the neckline of her gown.
“May I?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.
Elizabeth’s eyes met his, wide and dark. She nodded once, then reached up with trembling fingers to loosen the ribbon herself.
As the fabric parted, revealing the smooth skin of her throat and the upper curve of her breasts, Darcy felt his control slipping. He had intended to proceed with meticulous care, to ensure Elizabeth’s comfort at every step, but the sight of her partially disrobed severely tested his resolve.
“Beautiful.” He bent to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. “So beautiful.”
Elizabeth’s fingers tangled in his hair as he moved lower, tracing the delicate curve of her breast with his mouth until he reached the rosy peak. At the first touch of his lips there, she gasped, her body tensing before melting into the sensation.
“I did not know,” she whispered, her voice catching. “I did not know it could be like this.”
“Nor I,” Darcy admitted against her skin, though his experience far outstripped hers. Despite his previous liaisons, he had never felt this peculiar combination of desire and tenderness, this need to both claim and cherish.
With reluctance, he drew back slightly. “The nightgown,” he said, his voice strained. “I would see you.”
Elizabeth hesitated only briefly before sitting up and drawing the garment over her head in a single fluid movement. She sat before him in nothing but moonlight and candlelight, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, partially veiling her nakedness without concealing it entirely.
Darcy found himself momentarily speechless, his body’s response threatening his carefully maintained control. She was all graceful curves and smooth skin, with a natural elegance that put the studied poses of experienced courtesans to shame.
“You are staring,” Elizabeth said softly, a touch of vulnerability in her voice.
“Forgive me,” Darcy replied hoarsely. “You surpass all expectation.”
Her pose relaxed. “You remain considerably overdressed, sir.”
“A situation easily remedied.” He stood and removed his dressing gown, aware of Elizabeth’s curious gaze as he untied the drawstring of his nightshirt and pulled it over his head.
Her sharp intake of breath as she beheld him fully revealed both gratified and concerned him. “Are you afraid?” he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head, her eyes traveling over his body with both apprehension and unmistakable interest. “Not afraid. But I confess to some uncertainty about practicalities.”
Darcy returned to the bed, careful to maintain a small distance between them. “We will proceed slowly,” he assured her. “And stop at any point if you feel discomfort.”
When she nodded her understanding, he leaned forward to kiss her again, this time allowing their bodies to touch skin to skin.
The contact drew a soft sound from Elizabeth’s throat that inflamed his desire further.
Her hands, initially hesitant, became more exploratory, tracing the contours of his shoulders and chest with increasing confidence.
“You may touch me wherever you wish.” A silent prayer accompanied the permission that she would not take his suggestion too literally too quickly, lest his control shatter completely.
Elizabeth’s explorations remained innocent, but the simple press of her palms against his chest, the tentative stroke of her fingers along his arms, affected him more than the practiced caresses of more experienced women ever had.
There was an unfeigned curiosity that spoke of genuine interest rather than obligation.
Gradually, he guided her to lie back once more, his own caresses becoming more intimate as he sensed her readiness.
When his hand finally slipped between her thighs, Elizabeth tensed before yielding to the gentle pressure.
Darcy moved with deliberate care, his touch light and exploratory until he found the evidence that her body welcomed his attentions despite her inexperience.
“Elizabeth,” he murmured against her neck. “I would join with you now. It may cause some discomfort initially, but I promise it will pass.”
She looked into his eyes, trust gradually replacing apprehension in her gaze. “I am ready.”
Darcy positioned himself above her, supporting his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing her smaller frame. With exquisite care, he began to enter her, watching her face intently for any sign of distress. When he encountered the expected tightness, he paused, pressing his forehead against hers.
“This part may hurt,” he warned softly. “It cannot be avoided, but it will happen only once.”
Elizabeth nodded, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders. “Continue,” she whispered.
Darcy thrust further, stretching and tearing the barrier, immediately stilling when Elizabeth gasped, her nails digging into his skin. “Breathe,” he instructed, remaining motionless despite his body’s demand for completion. “The pain will ease.”
For several long moments, they remained thus connected, Darcy exerting all his considerable will to allow Elizabeth time to adjust to the invasion. When he felt her relax beneath him, he began to move with careful restraint, establishing a gentle rhythm.
Elizabeth’s body began to respond, her hips lifting slightly to meet his movements, her breath coming faster as new sensations replaced the initial pain. Encouraged, Darcy deepened his thrusts, one hand slipping between them to touch her in ways he knew would enhance her pleasure.
The effect was immediate and profound. Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock as sensations she had never imagined coursed through her body. Her hands clutched at his back, no longer in discomfort but in unconscious encouragement as she sought something she could not name.
“Let go,” Darcy murmured against her ear, his own control fraying as he felt her body tightening around his. “Trust me, Elizabeth.”
Whether it was his words or his increasingly urgent movements, Elizabeth suddenly cried out, her body arching beneath his as pleasure overwhelmed her.
The sight of her abandon, paired with the exquisite sensation of her release, shattered Darcy’s remaining control.
With several final thrusts, he followed her over the edge, burying his face against her neck to muffle his groan of completion.
For several minutes afterward, neither spoke, their bodies still joined, their breathing gradually slowing in tandem. Darcy was acutely conscious of their hearts beating against each other, temporarily synchronized in the aftermath of shared pleasure.
When he finally found the strength to lift himself, concerned that his weight might be uncomfortable for her, Elizabeth’s arms tightened briefly around him before releasing their hold. He moved to lie beside her, turning on his side to study her profile in the dim light.
“Are you well?” he asked quietly.
Elizabeth’s eyes were closed, but a small smile curved her lips. “I believe so,” she murmured. “Though I find myself rather overwhelmed.”
Darcy reached out to brush a strand of dark hair from her cheek, the gesture unexpectedly tender. “It is often thus the first time,” he said. “Especially when one has little preparation for the experience.”
Her eyes opened then, meeting his with a directness that caught him off guard. “Was it... satisfactory? For you?”
The vulnerability beneath the question touched him. “More than satisfactory,” he assured her. “You are remarkable, Elizabeth.”
A flush colored her cheeks, visible even in the dim light. “I did not know what to expect,” she admitted. “Certainly not that.”
“That?” Darcy prompted, curious about her perception of what had passed between them.
“The feeling.” Her blush deepened. “Like falling from a great height, yet entirely safe.”
Her description pleased him immensely. “Then I have not failed in my duties as a husband,” he said, allowing himself a small smile.
“Is it always thus?” Elizabeth asked, her natural curiosity reasserting itself.
“It can be,” Darcy replied carefully. “With mutual consideration and practice.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly at his implication. “I see.”
An awkward silence fell between them, the intimacy of their physical connection not quite extending to their conversation. Darcy reached for the coverlet that had been pushed aside in their activities, drawing it over them both against the night’s chill.
“You should rest,” he said. “The day has been long and eventful.”
Elizabeth nodded, her eyelids already growing heavy. “Will you...” She hesitated.
“Will I?” Darcy prompted gently.
“Will you stay?” The question was barely audible, as though she feared his refusal.
Relief and an unexpected warmth spread through Darcy’s chest. “If you wish it.”
“I do,” Elizabeth murmured, her eyes drifting closed. “It seems proper, somehow, after such impropriety.”
The gentle irony in her tone made him smile in the darkness.
Within minutes, her breathing deepened and slowed. Darcy remained awake longer, watching the play of candlelight across her features as she slept. In repose, the wariness that had marked her expression throughout their acquaintance temporarily vanished.
Darcy contemplated the strange path that had led them to this moment. He could not find it in himself to regret the outcome.
Perhaps, despite its inauspicious beginning, this marriage might not be as hopeless as he had feared.