Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
DARCY
Darcy and Elizabeth struggled to catch their breaths. He felt boundless joy in being married to her, in finally consummating the connexion they had felt for so long, in achieving what he thought to be, from his book learning, two pinnacles for Elizabeth before he reached his own.
It had been even more glorious than what he could ever have imagined.
But his joy was pierced by her chuckle.
He sat up, stared at her familiar diverted expression, and he asked, “What is funny?”
“I—” she paused to chuckle again, shaking her head just a little. “I thought I knew a bit more about what to expect. But I knew almost nothing, it turns out.”
“Oh!” Darcy did not know what to make of that. But, as always, he tried to be forthright with his worry: “Are you disappointed?”
“No! My goodness, no. How could you think that?” Her expression instantly shifted to concerned and loving.
He shrugged one shoulder. “You laughed.”
“Will, when we were at Oakham Mount, I was positive that the delightful sensations you elicited from me were the height of female pleasure. Those sensations were the most extreme pleasure I had ever experienced, by far. However, although my Aunt Maddie spoke to me about consummation with vague phrases such as, “It can be wonderful for both of you,” I had heard hints and whispers from everyone else about pain and blood for women and great pleasure only for men.”
She nuzzled her nose into his neck and gave him a few swift kisses there before continuing, “But this—the sensations and the pleasure you called forth—all of it was beyond what I had felt before, and far beyond what others spoke of, and what I expected—”
She seemed to flounder, and Darcy gathered her body into his hands, pulling her back on top of him, waiting to see if she wished to finish her sentence.
“I cannot even describe what I felt. It is wholly beyond my vocabulary,” she finally said.
Darcy’s brief doubt vanquished, he was able to smile, kiss her, and then offer his own words.
“I cannot adequately describe the experience, either. But I can say that you are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met, and although, as you know, I have no prior experience in this activity to make a comparison, I can confidently say that it was amazing because of our connexion, because of our love. And maybe, even, because we had to wait so long for it.”
Pulling herself off his chest, Elizabeth asked, “So, we shall have to wait weeks—or maybe months—before we are able to do it again? I am not certain I like that idea!”
Darcy opened his eyes, which had moments ago felt heavy, as if sleep was imminent.
However, seeing Elizabeth’s tumult of curls shining in the sunlight that still shone through the windows, seeing her eyes sparkling with challenge, hearing her pert words and seeing her eyebrow raised with the tease—Darcy was shocked that his body seemed to wake up, his member rising up again, his system suddenly alert and responsive and—
He had heard that she would be sore, down there, so he kept his caresses to her waist and up, but she pushed his hand downwards, saying “Please!” and he complied with her request.
—What did it matter what most brides did or did not wish to do?
—What did it matter what most newlyweds experienced?
They were forging their own path, communicating as well as they could, each with the other, speaking as directly as possible, and they would do what they wished to do. What pleased them.
Darcy felt his rapture build, and the little noises that came from deep in Lizzy’s throat told him that she was feeling very well, too—and he continued to attempt to fulfil a few of his many goals:
To make Elizabeth happy.
To enact some of the scenes he had dreamt up.
To put into action the vow he had taken that day: “With my Body, I thee worship.”