After the wedding, they went to Donwell Abbey for the night. They were to leave for their wedding trip the following morning and Emma felt uncomfortable having her wedding night in her Father's home. John and Isabella were taking care of Mr. Woodhouse until they returned from their wedding trip and could be entrusted with his care an additional night.
Emma had not spent the night at Donwell Abbey in years, not since a snowstorm had trapped them at Donwell for two days when she was eight. Since she had not spent the night in years, she insisted on a tour following dinner that night. Mr. Knightley had been thorough on the tour, but he had made sure it would end quickly. He had ended the tour in what would be her chambers if they were to live at Donwell Abbey. He had hope that one day they would live at Donwell and that they would raise their children there. His heart soared at the possibility of children. He had long since accepted that he would never marry and therefore never have any children, but the past few weeks had been filled with visions of children running through the halls of Donwell Abbey. It would be impossible until the death of Mr. Woodhouse, which they both dreaded.
"Emma dear, do you wish to retire for the night, or would you care for a glass of wine?"
"I believe I am ready to retire for the evening," she said lightly touching his arm and looking up at him lovingly.
"Very well. How long shall you need to ready yourself for bed?"
"No more than twenty minutes. I am eager to get on with the night," she said with a wicked grin.
Mr. Knightley chuckled, "I'll ring the bell for you."
"Thank you, my dear husband, I shall see you in twenty minutes."
As her maid took down her hair, she began to feel the first pangs of nerves. The confidence she had portrayed before was only a front so that George would not see how frightened she was. Mrs. Weston and Isabella had told her what would happen tonight, and that it would be painful at first, but that she would grow to enjoy it. She had even been allowed to travel to London to see Isabella and buy proper wedding clothes. George had stayed with her father while she went to visit London for the first time. It been a brief trip, but by the end, she had the proper attire for her wedding night.
She looked down at her nightgown. It was sheer. She could see the outline of her curves through the fabric. The woman who sold it to her told her it would drive her husband mad with desire. Although George had assured her that he saw her as a beautiful, adult woman, and had for longer than he cared to admit, she feared that sometimes he still saw her a petulant child in need of a scolding. She wanted him to want her in the way a husband should want a wife.
She took another look in the mirror before she realized she had a full five minutes before George would enter. Perhaps, she would wait on the bed for him, or perhaps she would enter his chambers and surprise him. Yes, she had decided to enter his chambers and surprise him.
She approached the door between their chambers and knocked heartily, before she could lose her nerve. When he opened the door, Emma found him with his cravat undone and a glass of wine in his hand.
"Emma," he said, full of surprise, "I was not expecting you to be ready so soon."
"Well, I am eager to start the night," she said pulling him into a kiss.
"It appears you are," he said ushering her back to her chambers with a grin on his face, "You have not yet given me the chance to tell you how beautiful you look tonight," he said running his fingers through her golden curls.
"I hope you are not just saying that to get me into your bed," she said with a teasing grin.
"I wouldn't dream of it my dear, I am saying it to get you into your bed," he said running his hands down her arms. "I have thought you beautiful for many years, but my dear wife, you have never been more beautiful than you are in this very moment."
"Oh how you flatter me, George," she laughed, her laughter covering the tears that had begun to form in the corners of her eyes. She took a step closer to him so that their bodies were pressed up against each other. He looked down to meet her gaze before leaning down to press his lips to hers.
He pressed himself even closer to her and deepened the kiss. His hands moved down her body and ran along her sides down to her hips. He caressed her soft, womanly curves as he pushed her towards the edge of her bed.
She broke the kiss to catch her breath. She laced her fingers through his hair and kissed him again. His hands crept back to her waist and then to her chest. She lost track of time as she got lost in his touch. His thumbs brushed across her nipples, through the sheer fabric of her nightgown. She moaned into his mouth before breaking the kiss.
"Do that again." She breathed.
"Bossy, are we?" he teased before brushing her now erect nipples with the balls of his thumbs. She shivered as his hands found their way to the creamy skin of her neck where he placed a kiss before moving the straps of her gown down to reveal her shoulders. He kissed them too before working the dress down her body. She stood naked before him, completely exposed. Goosebumps appeared all over her as the night air met her milken flesh.
He kissed her again and raked his fingers across her goosebump-laden skin. His hands found her breasts again. They were large in his hands, larger than he had imagined they would be. He kneaded them and she delighted in it, moaning into his mouth.
"George," she panted, breaking the kiss, "this is not fair. I am bare before you and you, while you are fully clothed."
"Well, that cannot do."
"I'll take care of that," she smirked as she removed his cravat before making quick work of the buttons of his shirt. He pushed her onto her back before removing his trousers.
Emma was laying back, her chest heaving as her climbed between her legs. He kissed her hard on the mouth before kissing down her neck to her ample breasts. She breathed in delight before he moved his lips down to the soft curve of her stomach.
"Emma," he whispered, "do you trust me?"
"Of course," she said staring into his eyes.
"I wish I could tell you this won't hurt, but I'm so sorry I cannot."
"That's alright George. I trust you. I love you, my darling."
"I love you, too," he said before kissing her. He shifted between her legs. He brushed against her opening before thrusting inside.
She cried out in pain at his entrance. He did not wish to be so abrupt, but he knew it would hurt her less to enter all at once. He brushed her hair and whispered words of comfort as she adjusted to him. She gave him a nod when she was ready for him to continue. He thrust again and she cried out in pain, though it hurt less than before.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "so sorry, Emma, my darling."
"It's. Alright." She said kissing him to reassure him.
He moved one of his hands down and rubbed his thumb against her pink, sensitive, skin. She moaned and encouraged him to thrust again. He built up a steady rhythm and her cries of pain turned to cries of pleasure. She shook with delight as he spilt his seed inside of her.
He pulled out and rolled over to lay beside her. They shifted underneath the covers. She put her head on his chest, over his beating heart, as he stroked her rumpled curls.
"I love you so much," he told her.
"Oh George, my love, that was not nearly as unpleasant as I expected it to be. I quite enjoyed it. Can we do that again in the morning?"
He chuckled, "Emma, we can do so whenever you like, for the rest of our lives."
She grinned, "I knew you could never say no to me."
"On that, you are correct. You shall be the most pleased wife in all of England."
"George," she said minutes later, when their breathing had slowed.
"Yes, my love."
"If I ask you a question, will you promise not to laugh at me?"
"I would never laugh at you."
"Do you think, well, I mean, is it possible…"
"Emma, what is it?"
"Do you think we could have made a baby before? I know it sounds silly, but I believe we did."
"It is certainly possible. It would be a champagne baby if it were conceived on the wedding night. Have you been thinking much about such things?"
"It would be impossible not to. My father already worries about it. And a visit to Isabella reminded me that she and John have used all the family names on their children."
"Do you worry about it?"
"No, not really. Not like Father does. I believe children are a blessing."
"I agree. And they shall come when they come. There is no need to worry about the timing now. If we made a child tonight, then that is great. If not, we shall make one soon."
"I should like that very much. And George, I have one final question."
"And what is that?"
"Are you going to spend the entire night in my bed?"
"If you will allow me, I should like to spend the rest of my nights in your bed."
"I would like that very much."