Chapter Four
Oh What A Night
Finally, she would be his.
This thought was the only one that was flashing in the interior of Darcy's mind as he voraciously took of her sweet offerings.
Absently, he shed the thin outer layer, letting it drift to the floor, leaving only the shimmering, silky gown separating him from her cool skin.
For the first time, he allowed his hands to engulf territory on her body, which remained uncharted. The stimulus of the touch and feel of these newly discovered soft places caused a rumbling from deep inside to surface. He wanted to bury himself within her and never surface again.
Standing together in the middle of the room, greed favored all sense of control, causing him to compress her tightly to his tall frame, demanding absorption of their flesh. Animalistic in his need, he growled triumphantly at becoming quenched.
Moving to advance his exploration, Darcy felt a sudden resistance from her, forcing him to stop abruptly. Before he could ask why her warm palms framed his face. Amanda lightly brushed his mouth with hers, whispering on his lips.
"Darcy, I will always consider you my first, and no matter what happens after tonight, your name will be on the last breath I take. No love, physical or emotional, can ever replace what I have with you."
The shine in her eyes was brilliant, but not from passion—with unshed tears of another emotion he could not decipher. It startled him. Taking up her hands, Darcy brought them together to kiss her fingers.
"Amanda, look at me." Emerald eyes lifted. "Why the threatening tears?"
Shaking her head, she focused on his chest in her reluctance to speak.
"Mandy?"
Still, she did not answer with words, however, her actions spokes volumes. Reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, Amanda buried her face in the curve under his jaw. Tenderly, he returned the embrace, feeling acutely her body trembling with emotion. Concerned, he lifted her chin to see frailty in her expression.
"Speak of it," he commanded gently.
"I love you so much. I'm overwhelmed, and so afraid—"
"Of what, my fairy?"
"Of never feeling this way again. That's all," she murmured, bowing her head to rest her forehead on his upper torso.
Raising her face with both hands to search for more enlightenment, he lost his breath at what he saw—deep innocence and devotion. Was there sadness there as well? Or was it this fear she spoke of?
His recourse was to kiss her with reverence, taking time to instill assurances of his constancy.
Breaking, Amanda exhaled, giving him the slightest of smiles.
"I'm okay," she assured sweetly. "I'm ready now."
This behavior and simple words struck Darcy into realizing Amanda was not the mature, experienced woman as perceived, but still quite child-like and vulnerable. His heart swelled with the knowledge that in so many ways he would be her first lover and, after their nuptials her last.
Inwardly, Darcy rebuked the false assumption that had secretly haunted him these past weeks. Not a maid? Seen in this revealing light, Amanda was an innocent, never properly loved and cherished as a woman should have been.
This sudden awareness resulted in his ravenous need to possess her to soften, turning all thoughts to not what he desired, but what she needed to extinguish all fears and anxieties.
With controlled deliberation, Darcy lifted her up into the shelter of his arms, cradling without letting their eye contact to be broken. Slowly, he stepped towards the bed, noticing a single tear trailing down her cheek. Laying her down on the soft surface, he kissed it gone.
Straightening to unbutton his undershirt, Darcy glanced down at Amanda. She was subtly trying to position herself in an alluring manner on the bed. In her nervous awkwardness, he could see the attempt was failing.
Turning sideways to allow her more privacy in finding a composed and 'seductive' stance. Darcy fought his rising mirth at her naïve efforts, yet at the same time, delighting in the preciousness he was feeling towards her. Peeling the shirt off, the thought eased him into the determination that this night was for worshiping and catering to her needs. His own would wait.
Turning around to face her again, Amanda snapped into her chosen position—on her side, with bent arm and hand supporting her head, and the other arm draped casually along the length of her body's curves.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Darcy cupped her cheek, bending to kiss the top of her bare shoulder, moving up and over to cover her mouth, as his hand moved down to knead her breast. Amanda let out a surprised squeak, causing him to grin broadly while their lips still meshed.
"Darcy," Amanda whispered, "you're smiling."
Lifting his head, he kept his smile present on his face for her.
"Why should I not when your mouth was most welcoming? However, ripe and sweet as your lips are, it is the sudden comprehension that produced the reaction."
"What comprehension?"
"That as I make love to you for the first time," he said with confidence, "I have every reassurance you are my truest, predestined love." Kissing the top of her nose, he added, "And she, whom I shall treasure more than the air I breathe, is a maiden in her heart, made ready for my keeping."
"Really!" Amanda gasped out while quickly raising herself up, causing his head to jerk back in surprise. "A virgin?"
Darcy opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, her arms flung around his neck, clinging to him tightly.
"I am convinced," he confirmed simply in her nearest ear.
Pulling back, she looked at him. "Do you really mean it?"
With her need for further assurance, Darcy felt ashamed she had experienced the severe weight of being labeled not worthy. It was cruel and thoughtless of him, or anyone else, to presume her unqualified to be adored.
"Forgive me, Mandy, for not seeing that innocence is not only physical. Men are hypocrites, and none more than me," he said while gently moving her hair off to the side of her face. "Opportunity and urgings went unchecked in my youth. Can I come to you guiltless? No, I cannot. I was flawed in my thinking."
Darcy watched as her face light up like an elated child, and her threatening tears spilled freely, not with sadness, but with a joyful relief.
"Oh, Darcy," she sobbed out, "you made me so happy to hear you say that."
Laying her back down, his thumbs wiped the tears from her eyes, tracing the contours of her face, down to the crux of her throat where the locket rested.
"Let me demonstrate an entirely new level of happiness I can give to you," he said in a seductive voice. "Shall I continue?"
Darcy watched in awe as, even in the dimness of the moonlit room, her cheeks flush a pinkish hue. She nodded rapidly, with a clear expression of excited certainty and trust.
Moving his finger up, he hooked the gown's strap on her shoulder and drew it down her arm. He started the trail of his mouth from her collarbone, down to the flesh being uncovered.
He pleasured, as her fingers threaded through his hair. The instinctive arching of her back in response from his administrations stoked the building flame.
Within a short span of time, as anticipated, the gown's fabric yielded at his authoritarian touch, revealing her natural glory. Desirous to feel his natural self-blanketing her in warmth, Darcy stood and fluidly rid the barrier of his trousers.
Sensing motion on the bed, he glanced over at her. It was obvious her modesty had demanded attention for she had moved to lean up on the bed board so she could cover her bosom with her arm and use a bent leg to cross over to hide the apex of her womanhood.
Smirking, his eyelids lowered. Indeed, like a virgin, to be touched intimately for the first time by an expert hand. Dolan had been but a boy, highly incompetent of bringing an unparalleled woman like Amanda into full womanhood. Darcy was confident her memories of this buffoon would soon be replaced with accolades of a real man of experience, strength, and commitment to gratifying the desires of his woman.
On this night, he will saturate her entirely in his masculinity and see her completely satisfied, thus laying claim on her as his chosen mate. The thought caused his heartbeat to start pounding more rapidly in his chest.
Standing tall before her, there was no doubt of his manly need for her. He was vastly pleased by her reaction. Her eyes became round globes, her cheeks flamed, and the bottom of her lip dropped.
The corner of his mouth turned upwards.
"Is that—"
"Darcy," she interrupted breathlessly, "don't you dare ask if that is agreeable."
Chuckling, he climbed over to her on the bed. Effortlessly, he pulled her forward until she was lying flat, and proceeded to ease his weight down upon her while stroking and kissing her in preparation.
Hesitantly, Amanda's voice whispered in his ear, asking him what she could do for him. His head snapped up to look at her. Did he hear her correctly? Her questioning eyes indicated he did.
Not only did she want his instruction, further convincing him of her overall inexperience with men, but also her thoughtfulness in wanting to reciprocate in pleasing him spoke of her selfless nature. He was deeply humbled.
"No, no, this time is for you. Allow me the honor of demonstrating my undying devotion and fidelity."
Amanda's fingers moved across his forehead to push fallen hair from his face. "Mr. Darcy," she whispered, "I am the one who is honored to be loved by you. You are my every dream come true and the most amazing man I will ever meet. Tonight, I gladly give you all that I can."
Darcy was utterly lost for words, and could only stare intensely into her eyes.
"Darcy?"
Blinking out of his trance, he grabbed her up and crushed his mouth to hers, letting his actions speak the words he could not find to say.
Taking her back into his arms, he repeatedly vowed to make her happiness—forever and a day.
Finally, she would be his. Even if it was just for one night.
As Darcy ravenously kissed her in the middle of the room, Amanda's legs began to wobble uncontrollably, and her stomach churned with insecurities and doubt.
What did she really know about sexually pleasing a man like Darcy? I will disappoint him or do something stupid. What if he doesn't like how I look naked? Maybe I should have shaved more off down there. Did women shave down there back then?
What was wrong with her? For a second she went blank, and then just like that, she knew. She was terrified.
This night was her everything. Nothing after it, except for the child she was carrying, mattered. Will she ever find a man in modern times like him—another Mr. Darcy? The question was ridiculous to ask. From the very beginning, she knew this man would be irreplaceable. How can she possibly love another man as she loved this man? Again, stupid question.
And Darcy, will he think her a harlot for this one night of passion, only to abandon him at the altar? Will he be heartbroken for the rest of his life like her, or will he end up despising her for leaving him and move on by marrying a bona fide, blooming maid?
Regret flooded her system again. Oh, why couldn't Darcy have been her first? At least he would know she had given that one-time gift of herself to him. Then his memory of her would not be as a soiled and unchaste woman. Then again, she would not have to leave him if she was still a virgin, now would she? Amanda started to feel the tears forming in her eyes.
Madonna's lyrics started to echo in her head as his hands freely roamed and he kissed her deeply. The words really rang so true; Amanda could not see it in any other way. She truly felt virginal.
Before all control was lost, it became imperative for her to tell him. Placing her palms on his chest, she gently pushed herself away, causing him immediately to stop his impassioned assault. The break gave her the opportunity to take his face into her hands to focus his attention on what she was about to say.
"Darcy, I will always consider you my first, and no matter what happens after tonight, your name will be on the last breath I take. No love, physical or emotional, can ever replace what I have with you."
Then the most amazing thing happened. He agreed! Darcy softened and said she was his truest, treasured love and he believed her a maiden in her heart. To hear him confirm how she was feeling, brought tears of joy. Then he apologized for being a hypocrite because he was experienced.
The validation of his affection and the confession meant so much to her. After weeks of feeling inadequate, she finally felt herself on equal ground with Elizabeth and Jane. It seemed to qualify her to be worthy to be loved by this extraordinary man.
As if on queue, Darcy swung her up into his arms to carry her over to the bed. She felt a tear trailing down her cheek as he laid her on the bed, tenderly kissing it gone.
This was really happening, Amanda thought as he stood to take his clothes off. As he peeled his shirt from his magnificent chest, her heart started racing a kilometer a minute, bashful about seeing him fully, yet unable to peel her eyes away.
Truly, truly, she felt like she was about to be touched for the very first time.
Later, one indisputable truth of reality could not be altered and would be forever engraved in her memory—Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Jane Austen's novel, Pride & Prejudice, had just made the most incredible love to her.
Experienced? Oh, yes! Love her well? Oh, lordy, yes! To the stars, as Rose said to Jack.
Amanda got the impression that during this era, everything to do with sex would be reserved and perfunctory. The sexual revolution would have probably killed the majority of the population due to the shock of it, but Darcy had proved his dexterity was up-to-par with modern practices.
The colossal difference was he performed with a style and grace, which would have any woman clinging to him and wanting more. Also, Amanda could not get over his eloquent words of love, which had her melting like wax to a flame.
To be loved like he had loved her was something she was sure no man, no matter what his experience was, could possibly have performed in reality. Ironically enough, Amanda believed it could only be found in the pages of the most romantic of novels or sigh-producing, films.
It was like all those love scenes she loved to watch and read, repeatedly, were being melded together into one powerful, momentous act. Even then, she was not sure if it could compare to what she experienced with this man.
And at that remarkable moment, right before they came together, his gentled voice commanded her to open her eyes.
"I want to look into your eyes as we become one," he breathed with emotion, "and know my life is yours, forever, and a day."
Before she could drop her mouth in awe, he joined his body with hers, causing her to gasp at the immediate rocket blast of fulfillment. Straight away, Darcy proceeded to deliver the physical pleasure by conducting with perfection a rhythmic, fleshy symphony.
To say they both climaxed was not enough to describe what occurred. With Darcy's heated eruption, she had her first real internal earthquake with shuddering aftershocks.
Unreal! Who would believe Austen's literary creation is a sexpert?
Was there such a word? Well, that was what it felt like, Amanda thought to herself as they both rested from the amazing experience.
After another moment of basking in absolute satisfaction, a blurred face flashed for a second in her mind. Oh, poor Michael. He had no idea how he lacked compared to her eighteenth-century gentleman.
Was there a measure for orgasms on a scale like an earthquake? Well, Darcy created two that were both off the charts, and Michael, well, in comparison, the few he managed to produce were mere hic-ups compared to the quakes she just experienced.
Lying halfway on Darcy's torso with her leg entwined with his, Amanda finally was able to touch and savor his upper body with her fingers. Her palm moved over his ribcage in exploration, then over his heart to enjoy the new sensation of a thatch of hair covering the area.
His hand came up and took hold of hers, bringing it up to his lips to kiss her fingers, then held it close to himself. Amanda sighed and rested her head over his heart. Its beat was loud and steady, but his overall silence began to trouble her, and her insecurities flooded back.
Finding the courage, she crept further up to position herself closer to his face.
"Darcy?"
"Yes."
"Um…was it…well, agreeable?"
His laughter was the very last thing she expected. Seizing her, he kissed her long and hard while rolling her over onto her back. Bringing her up into a sitting position, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, closing the gap of space between their bodies.
"Most agreeable, and I am hungry for more," he said as his head dipped to nuzzle at her neck. "You are the perfect blend of spices and delightful delicacies that make you irresistible."
"Did you just compare me to food?"
Darcy did not look up as he began to nip at her skin.
"Which I plan on savoring again and again, for I am famished."
Oh, yeah? I'm going to be starving!
In a move that was more impulsive than planned, she grabbed hold of his shoulders, and with a strength fueled by the want to excite him, she turned the table by flipping him onto his back.
Darcy grunted out his surprise as she pinned him down and straddled his waist. With palms on his ribcage for support, she bent to eagerly kiss his mouth while her long hair, softly fanned his face.
Amanda wondered if he would appreciate her aggressiveness. A few seconds later, he answered with his groans of desire, and his hands eagerly clutching her hips to encourage the motion of her pelvis.
Never had she thought to do this with Michael; he always preferred to be on top. But Darcy had awakened the Tigress in her, and like any she-cat—with claws unsheathed and teeth bared—she went for the throat, determined to show him who had the better bite. Gripping fists full of his hair to pull back his head, she exposed more of his neck for her to attack. Unlike Darcy, she intended to leave a mark to prove it.
"Mandy! What sweet madness is this?" he sounded out with passionate inquiry. "What are you doing to me?"
Beaming, Amanda raised just enough to speak intimately in his ear.
"Don't you know, my dearest Darcy," she mewed sweetly, feeling his readiness. "I'm eating you alive."
At that, she consumed entirely what was on her plate.
Amanda listened to Darcy's heart hammer loudly until it slowed to a low, steady beat. Looking at the clock, she closed her eyes in dread. Holding back the tears, she tried to sound as normal as possible.
"Darcy? You awake?"
"Yes, my fairy," his answered without opening his eyes.
"Don't go to sleep, okay."
His eyes flashed open, and a sly grin immediately appeared.
"Oh, no, I will not."
Snaking her waist, he twisted her until she was on her back, and they were face-to-face with his heavy frame entrapping her underneath. Mischievous eyes locked on hers.
"You have surprised and delighted me beyond any imaginings," he said as his hands started its parade around on her body, "but I am eager to retrace the peaks and valleys of my beloved at a more leisurely pace."
Sighing, she smiled at him. "I love your pillow talk, Darcy," she said while running a finger over his mouth. "It's poetry out of a book."
"I like this expression…pillow talk. However, the mention of the book is tempting me to take you away from the softness of this bed."
"What? I don't follow you."
"An unfinished fantasy."
A look of surprise crossed her face.
"You have fantasies?"
"Am I not allowed?"
"Well, yes, but for some reason I thought maybe they would be considered…um…undignified."
"Did I not fulfill one of your fantasies without question?"
"Oh yes, tonight was everything—"
"No, no," he interrupted with a grin, "I am referring to Poseidon rising from the watery depths. Was that not a fantasy?"
Giggling, Amanda nodded. "How could I forget? It is exactly how I thought of you since."
"And I, imagined you as a mermaid, but for this indulgence, one does not need to submerge oneself under water."
"Okay, you win. What do I need to do?"
Darcy rose up from the bed and held out a hand to her.
"Remember the night of our engagement?"
Nodding, Amanda allowed him to help her up from the bed, escorting her to the lounging area of the massive room.
"Please don't make me sing again," she begged. "I'd rather do cartwheels butt naked."
A wide grin formed on his face. "Later you will have to explain what a cartwheel is, for any action in your present state of undress would assuredly be worthwhile, but no, I was thinking of our time in the library."
"Oh, the bookcase," she said with relief. Looking around, she frowned. "I don't see a bookcase."
Taking possession of her waist with one arm, he proceeded to back her up against the only part in the room with a wall void of a legged obstruction or hanging embellishment.
"No bookcase is needed," he assured with a glint in his eye. "I have repeatedly dreamed of finishing what was begun that night."
Amanda knew where he was going with this, and her heart began to thump erratically.
Once, Michael attempted to make love to her in the lift of the building where his flat was located. All she got out of it was a badly bruised bum, and him, compliments of a stuck zipper, literally a bloody mess. The giggling nurses heard behind the drawn curtain certainly did not help his trauma. Three stitches and a plaster on his penis later had him shying away from being sexually spontaneous from that day forward.
Oh, but Darcy was a real man. He will do it right! On this, she had no doubt.
Sandwiching her body between him and the wall, she felt his need, full and ready; no zipper here. He was more than prepared to take her in, and she shivered with anticipation.
"Put your arms around my neck, Amanda."
She complied eagerly. He then lifted her leg to rest on his hip to position her. Excitement was building within her core when his arm reached under her backside to lift her up.
OMG! OMG!
Penetration had Amanda crying out Darcy's name as he provided currents of electric sensations to course throughout her body. His strength and agility continued, pressing her tighter against the wall, both of his hands moved to support her underneath, allowing his movements to quicken.
"Mandy, look into my eyes and don't look away. I want you to memorize this precise moment."
Nodding dumbly, Amanda did as he instructed; his face was intense with focused concentration as he delivered deep unification.
Together, they rode on the winds to bring about, what Amanda would later liken it to, the prophesize, heavenly rapture often preached behind the pulpit.
Both panting and beaded with sweat, Darcy carried her back over to the bed. He fell down beside her on his back, pulling the bed cover over both their bodies.
Amanda recovered first, rolling over to her side.
"Why did you want me to memorize that exact moment?"
Turning himself sideways so they were nose-to-nose, he cupped her cheek.
"Because, my love, the moment marked an accomplishment that will, undoubtedly, impact both our futures."
Amanda's face contorted into a comical frown.
"What? Throwing both our backs out?"
"The exertions were well worth the risk, but no, that is not it," he said calmly.
"Then what was accomplished?"
Kissing her gently on the forehead, Amanda felt the palm of his hand reach under the cover to span out over her belly. In a low voice of undeniable conviction, he answered.
"Our daughter."
Amanda's reaction to his declaration was not what he expected. He watched in stunned alarm as her expression went from satiated curiosity to tragic despair.
"Oh, Darcy!" she wailed disparagingly with tears flooding out. Sobbing uncontrollably, her palms flew up to hide her emotionally disfigured face. "Why do you have to be so wonderful?"
Instinctively, he reached for her, but she expediently moved out of his reach, diving under the bedspread to place a further barrier between them.
Grabbing the cover, he tugged at it so he could address her directly, but she would not let it yield.
"Amanda, what is wrong?" he asked in his gentlest voice.
Another sob echoed from underneath the covers, as the motion of the bedspread indicated she was shaking her head back and forth.
"I…I can't. Please, go away, Darcy."
"Go away? I will not!" he bellowed, not believing what he just heard.
"Only for a bit. Please," she begged, "I can't have you near me right now."
Agitated, he rose from the bed and stiffly donned his night coat. Tightening the slash, he turned to face the bed with fists on his hips.
"Amanda, come out from under there," he said with controlled anger. "You will explain what this is all about this instant."
"Darcy, don't be mad at me. I want to tell you but…I know you'll hate me," she answered fearfully. "I couldn't handle that."
The bleakness in her voice melted his heated direction. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he lowered his voice.
"Hate is not in my vocabulary, and if it was, I could never apply it towards you," he assured evenly. "Too great is my love."
A new bout of wailing sounded from Amanda, causing Darcy's brows to shoot up and then down, to form a frown.
"Amanda—"
"But this is bad. You cannot know how bad, and it can't be fixed," she rambled on with a generous degree of feminine emotion. "You'll end up…really, really disliking me. I know it."
Sighing, he laid a hand where he thought her shoulder would be.
"Amanda," he soothed, "have we not proven that any obstacle in the way of our right to love and be together will not prevail?"
Her face popped out from underneath, surprising Darcy.
"Not this obstacle," she said, shaking her head. "I can't marry you. I must leave Pemberley."
"What!"
Amanda moved to duck under the covers again, but Darcy prevented her by grabbing her upper arms and forcing her to look at him. Drawing his face close to hers, he glared into her eyes, hypnotizing her to respond.
"You will not, Amanda, I must know what this is all about."
"Don't make me—"
"Tell me, for it is my right to know," he demanded, shaking her gently.
A rush of air escaped her mouth.
"Do you really want to know? Okay, I will tell you. I can't have your baby, Darcy. Ever!" she blurted. "I lied! There will be no daughter! No son either! There, happy now?"
Complete silence entered the bedchamber.
Bowing her head, she finished despondently, "Oh, Darcy, I can't have children. I'm barren."
Okay, that should do it. Why did she not think of this before?
The last-second idea popped into her mind after she lost it under the covers. It seemed more subtle and dignified for Darcy to believe she could not have his children, rather than the disgrace of her being pregnant with another man's child.
Amanda had no doubt he will agree this was a deal breaker and the wedding will be canceled, sending her packing back to the twenty-first century.
Inwardly, she was pleased with herself. She would not have to flee secretly and they could part amicably. Yes, this was the better option. She was brilliant.
Not.
Darcy's deep laughter boomed throughout the room as he gathered her up into his arms. After a long moment of shocked paralysis, Amanda dodged his flurry of attention on her person, grabbing hold of his jaw to draw his focus to her face.
"Didn't you hear me," she spoke slowly. "I can't have children. There will be no heir to carry on the Darcy name."
A lazy grin appeared. "You are wrong."
Amanda's eyes went wide. "How?"
"My brother."
"Huh?"
"George Reginald Wickham."
Amanda's mouth dropped, but no words came out.
Bugger me! Didn't see that coming did you, Amanda?