Chapter 2.11
It was late in the evening when the Darcys finally reached their house in London.
Dinner was brought to their room and hot water was prepared for bathing.
Darcy allowed Miles to shave him while he eagerly anticipated the delight of having Elizabeth in his arms after two exhausting weeks in Hertfordshire and a long day on the road.
He barely stifled his laughter, recollecting Bingley’s animated chatter during the journey and his constant confessions about being the happiest man on earth.
Without a doubt, any difficulty his younger friend and his new wife might have had on their wedding night was overcome quickly and most satisfactorily.
Darcy was about to dismiss Miles when he was pleasantly surprised by Elizabeth entering his room, ready for the night, her long hair falling on her shoulders and covering her arousing cleavage.
His eyes caressed her adoringly, and he could see her blushing under his stare. She was as beautiful as ever, yet something was different. She stepped further, the fabric of the nightgown moving along her tempting curves. He suddenly felt hot and wondered whether he should open a window.
Elizabeth approached the bed, her gaze locked with her husband’s while she addressed the valet.
“Miles, you may leave now. I am certain Mr Darcy does not need you any longer tonight.”
The servant appeared puzzled and slightly embarrassed; he would not question the mistress’s request, yet he could not leave without the master’s permission. The approval came an instant later with a brief wave of Darcy’s hand, and Miles exited the room discreetly.
Darcy looked at his wife, mesmerised, his entire body tensing in anticipation.
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, and he stretched his hand toward her.
She smiled and leant until her lips gently touched his then withdrew, looking at him intently.
His curiosity increased, as well as his yearning for her.
Only then did he notice the small box she held in her right hand and the mischievous smile that twisted her red lips.
“What are you trying to hide from me, Mrs Darcy?”
“On the contrary, I only waited for the proper moment for disclosure.”
“Truly? Then I beg you to let me know what it is.”
“Please have a little patience, sir. All in good time.”
Her flirtatious tone stirred him. He tried to claim a kiss, but she withdrew again.
“Patience is a virtue I still need to learn how to master. It is good that I have enough self-control to keep myself under good regulation,” he answered hoarsely.
“Then you will have to carry on a difficult struggle tonight, sir, as I request that you do nothing but wait…and accept…and receive. Will you promise me?”
“I would promise you anything as you well know, my beloved wife, but I am growing very intrigued.”
“But you must keep your promise, sir. And I feel your strong self-control will be much needed. Please humour me.”
“I would not wish to suspend any pleasure of yours, madam.”
She rewarded him with a tender kiss then offered him the black velvet box.
“Since we wed, you have made each of our celebrations unforgettable. From the first week, I have thought of what I could offer you. And since we have now reached six weeks of marriage, here it is. I hope you will enjoy my little gift although I am ashamed to admit it was purchased from my pin money, which is actually still yours.” She laughed, attempting to conceal her emotions.
Darcy looked at her adoringly and kissed her hand, which was still holding the present. He took the box with the eagerness of a schoolboy and opened it, his expression showing his pleasure. Inside, there was an exquisite golden pocket watch. He turned it over, and on the back he read: “To my love.”
“This is beautiful…you have made me very happy, my dearest Elizabeth,” he said, caressing her face with infinite tenderness. She smiled.
“Oh, but there is more. Please open it.”
He found himself uncertain of his fingers as he opened the lid; the image made him gasp.
Inside were two miniatures of the painting he ordered for their one-month anniversary: a portrait of the couple and one of her alone. Emotion overwhelmed him.
“This is beyond words. How did you…? When? We were in Hertfordshire together. How did you manage to do this? This surprise is…such a wonderful, thoughtful gift…and I have nothing for you…”
“My love, almost from the beginning of our acquaintance, I have been the recipient of your kindness and generosity and tenderness. I do not need another gift. You have offered me your love, your home, your care, your passion, your heart…and I have not even mentioned the jewels.” She smiled as he took her hands to his heart, and their gazes held.
“I have so few occasions to give you anything at all, so I asked my uncle to help me. I conspired with him, and one day when you were out, we went to choose the watch. Then I spoke with the painter, and he agreed to do the miniatures even before the paintings are ready. I left him the watch when we departed for Longbourn, and he delivered it to me just in time. It was an easy plan, perfectly executed.”
He pulled her to his chest, kissing her hair. “Thank you so much, my beloved wife. I am touched by all the trouble you took.” Her eyes moistened with tears, and his own emotions were no less affected.
“I confess I am also a little frightened that you did all this without my noticing. You are a dangerous woman, Mrs Darcy.”
“I hope you are not disappointed, sir,” she teased him.
“Do I look disappointed? I hope not, as I am as proud of your tenacity as I am charmed by your beauty. And eager to show you how delighted I am with your gift,” he whispered while his arms trapped her.
“I am afraid you will have to wait a little longer, sir,” she whispered against his ear then decidedly freed herself from him. “You made me a promise, and I expect you to keep it. You must not forget that this is the evening you must do nothing but receive what I have prepared to offer you…”
He looked at her, surprised and intrigued, trying to guess the meaning behind her words.
She slowly abandoned her robe then walked around the room, blowing out the candles until the only light came from the fire and the moon shining outside.
He followed her with his eyes, enchanted by her arousing features and even more so by her confident attitude. The fabric of her nightgown slid around her curves, and his body started to burn.
Elizabeth returned to him and gently pushed him onto the pillows, just as he had done with her in the past.
Her mouth engaged his for a passionate yet short kiss then tantalised his face, the line of his jaws, his neck.
A moment later, she withdrew enough for their eyes to meet, and her fingers touched and stroked his lips.
He parted them and captured her fingers, his tongue playing with them briefly, before she pulled them out slowly to continue her exploration.
Darcy struggled to keep his hands still while she untied his shirt, exposing his bare torso to her curious eyes and warm caresses. She had touched him before and had seen him without clothes every night, but this time, it was different, and both knew it.
Her gestures grew more and more daring while he felt every spot of his skin burning. He easily recognised that she tried to mirror the way he had offered her pleasure, so he knew what would follow, and his entire being trembled in anticipation, wondering how far she intended to go.
Small kisses teased his chest while her hair tickled him like the softest silk.
Her hands lingered around his waist then lowered to his hips and stroked along his thighs, between them, resting on the place that had long burned him painfully.
He moaned so that she stopped for a moment.
He begged her to continue, and the caresses renewed as he groaned and called her name.
She suddenly stopped again and pushed her gown down from her shoulders.
Her warmth brushed against him, and he wondered how he possibly could keep his promise when he wished nothing more than to return the caresses and the pleasure and to feel her skin shivering under his touch.
His mind burst into countless pieces when her hand glided hesitantly inside his trousers and he gasped as she felt his hardness. He could no longer control his hands, which entwined in her hair while his pleasure became so intense that it hurt.
The newly discovered sensation shattered them both. She stopped; their hearts beat wildly, and both struggled to breathe.
“My love, please,” he whispered.
Elizabeth was still hesitant, but an instant later, her hands and her lips continued to discover and explore every inch of his body, touching, kissing, and tasting—just as he was doing with her.
His moans gave her more courage and confidence.
Everything she had learnt from him she was now returning.
Time elapsed and his strength, his control, and his reason evaded him while he wondered whether one could die of too much pleasure.
He felt almost relieved when the sweet, maddening torture ended and her body glided along his until their faces met again.
Their eyes locked, and he gasped when she finally allowed their bodies to join.
She was as warm and soft inside as she was outside, and his hands eventually lost control, trapping her against him, stroking her back and lingering on her hips while he helped her find the perfect rhythm of their lustful dance.
He sensed his body quivering against hers—inside hers—then heard her cries and felt her biting his shoulder as she took her pleasure. Only then did his body and mind shatter in complete fulfilment.
“I am so happy to be back home,” she murmured sometime later, still trapped in his arms and with no desire to free herself.
“So am I, my dearest love. But I am even happier for the joy of holding you in my arms. And for your most astonishing gifts—most astonishing, indeed. I must think of something to repay you as you deserve.”