Chapter 24 #2
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. “On 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.”