Thank you Guest for being the fourth reviewer for this chapter. Somehow I missed seeing your review until this morning, so I apologize for the delay in posting this next chapter.

Chapter 23

"M" chapter but not too explicit.

Jane made a beautiful bride and all in attendance could understand why Horace was marrying her. While her gown was suitably modest, it showcased all her womanly curves. The bubbies upon her chest needed no enhancement and her hips only required a slight padding from paniers. The curls that emerged from her cap were artfully piled and her dark eyes and hair contrasted beautifully with her porcelain skin. Not only did she look lovely, but her face bore a subtle, beatific smile.

Horace stumbled over his vows because he was mesmerized by Jane and thinking about putting into practice all that he had learned while at Cambridge from his unorthodox teachers. His fantasies about now having free rein to explore his wife's body were most distracting, but if anyone noticed his errors, they were too polite to mention them, and Horace forgot about them himself almost immediately.

The wedding breakfast was held at Longbourn. While it was cooked by Longbourn's cook, Mrs. Gardiner and Jane had arranged the menu to please both bride and groom. However, neither Horace nor Jane was able to eat more than a few bites as they were too busy being congratulated and receiving much attention. Jane enjoyed every moment of her glory and finally being referred to as Mrs. Bennet felt wonderful. For her this time with their guests passed away all too soon.

Once the guests had left and the servants finished clearing the food, Jane found herself alone with Horace. He looked at her dreamily and said simply, "My dear wife, I have waited for this day."

"I as well," Jane added. She suddenly found herself at a loss and knew not what to say next. She had never been alone with the man who was now her husband.

Her mother had always been present, or occasionally her aunt. Too, it was unusual for the elder Mr. Bennet to not be nearby and often her father, sister and brother. Usually her mother told her the conversation topics she planned to bring up and had Jane rehearse her answers in advance. While before there was always the wedding preparations to discuss, these had been concluded.

Grasping, Jane added, "Everything was lovely today. Your staff did well."

"They are your staff, too, now, . . . Mrs. Bennet . . . Jane." He tried out her new appellations, realizing he had never addressed her by her first name.

Again, there was awkward silence. Jane looked down at her gloved hands in her lap and blushed. She imagined removing her gloves in front of her husband and wondered what he would think when he saw the short fingernails she had bitten to the quick. She realized that although she had touched her new father with her bare hand that she had never touched her fiancé and now husband without the barrier of gloves, had done no more than grasp his arm or hand.

"Should I call you Mr. Bennet still, or Horace?" Jane asked, looking at him anxiously. It was strange, all that had long been forbidden, things secret and mysterious, many of which she had only recently learned about, were now acceptable because of the bonds of holy matrimony. Jane felt uncomfortable and longed to gnaw on her nails.

"Either, though the first might be confusing as it is also what my father is called. And was I too presumptuous to call you Jane?" He looked so intently into her eyes, with a certain look he had before, but never this intensely.

"You are my husband," she answered, "you have every right to call me anything you wish, but both Mrs. Bennet and Jane are fine."

There was a further awkward silence. Jane tried to think of a word for the way he was looking at her. It was almost, hungry, she decided. This put to mind her mother's advice.

"Should you like to see your new room?" Horace asked her. "I believe all your possessions have been placed there."

Nervously, Jane nodded. She let him escort her and noticed that her husband's pace kept increasing. He was certainly stirring his stumps and seemed most eager to get her there. When they stood outside the room that must be hers, he opened the door, watched her walk inside and then paused awkwardly on the threshold. He wanted to kiss her as the opening move to begin to engage in a series of delightful actions, but having never done any of them before, he held back. He wondered why he had not even tried to kiss her after they married. He was not sure how to proceed or whether he should enter her room or not. As it was early afternoon and not time for bed, would it be too presumptuous to think they might get to the main event right now?

"Horace," said Jane, "you are making me nervous, please come inside. My mother told me many things, but I have not yet even had my first kiss."

Horace knew an invitation when he heard one. He stepped into the room and pulled Jane toward him with one arm while closing the door with the other.

He leaned his face into her, gently putting a hand on each side of her face and tilting his own so their faces could meet. This first kiss was sweet, but it was soon followed by more demanding kisses that left Jane gasping. She felt desire shoot through her belly and center on her most private of places. She felt a longing deeper than that she had felt in touching herself the night before.

Horace found his baser man wanting to have her then and there, but instead pulled back a little and reminded himself how those women and his father had advised him to take things slow. He wondered, not for the first time, how much Jane might know about what was to take place. He hoped she was not too ignorant as he did not wish to scare her from what should be a joyous joining.

When Horace pulled back, Jane felt a bit of frustration that they could not just get right to that which she had so much curiosity about. She was glad that it appeared her husband was not going to be a brute, but she wished they might divest their clothes right then, touch each other and make the other feel good. She did not want her new husband to think she was a wanton who had been too free with her favors, yet she greatly desired to touch him, to feel his bare skin.

"Horace," she gasped out, "should we not at least remove our gloves?"

Horace pulled his gloves off at once carelessly flung them on the ground. When Jane struggled with removing her gloves (they were fashionably tight), he pulled them off for her from where the rested on her arms, inverting them in the process with no care at how hard it would later be to right them (rather than tugging at them from the fingertips as Jane had been doing).

If Horace was distressed by Jane's bitten nails, he showed no sign, holding her bare hands in his and kissing her palms and then sucking lightly on the tips her fingers, imagining what it would be like to suck on her nipples. He continued to hold and rub her bare hands as he leaned forward to place small kisses on her neck. He made sure to hold the lower half of his body well away from her as he did not want to scare her with how his lower anatomy was expanding and he also had a fear (hopefully baseless as he had taken care of himself that morning to lessen his urgency now, though his yard and babbles seemed not to remember for how they were reacting) that he might shoot off before occupying his pretty wife.

Horace was well pleased with how Jane seemed to be enjoying his attentions and that she had been forward enough to suggest they remove their gloves. He wondered if she might soon be amenable to removing further clothing. However, he dared not assume it. Gloves were one thing as they were not worn all the time . . .

Jane enjoyed the kisses to her neck and how the sensation seemed to strengthen the desire she felt. However, she was a bit frustrated that he was holding her hands, stopping her from being able to run them through his hair golden hair and loosen his cravat. Thus, almost without any volition she asked, "Horace, may I untie your cravat? It is most unfair that you can kiss my neck and I cannot kiss yours."

"Dear wife, you may have anything you like." He gave each of her hands a final kiss before releasing them and then felt his neck cloth pressed tighter again his neck as she struggled with the knot. "Let me," he offered, untying it much quicker than she could, but leaving it looped about his neck as he desired for her to remove it.

She did, running her fingertips along his neck in a manner that felt most sensual to the both of them. After she flung the cloth away, she pulled him toward her so that she could kiss his neck. It felt most delightful so him to feel her lips against him. It made him think about where else her lips might go.

Jane for her part was almost overcome with desire in feeling his bare skin beneath her lips, tasting a slight saltiness from his sweat and smelling his manly scent. The further back on his neck she kissed, the closer she pulled him to her. When he was finally in her arms and she felt his hardness pressed against her, another wave of desire flowed through her.

Horace was surprised to find himself pulled against her, to have his member touching her through their respective clothing. He enfolded her in his arms, smelling her sweet hair and an essence that must be woman. He forced himself to be respectful, only letting his hands caress her back. Oh, how he longed to caress lower, but he would wait, he would go slow.

"Horace, I . . ." Jane was embarrassed to ask for what she wanted. She knew it could never be lady-like for a new bride to ask her husband to undress himself and take her clothes off as well.

"What is it Jane?" He again drew back a little, concerned that he was going too fast and scaring her. "Is it too much, too soon?"

He dearly hoped that she might yet let him proceed with claiming her as his own.

"I . . . my mother said . . . that is, she told me . . . "

"I wish you to enjoy all, but for you to be comfortable. I know this is all new."

"My mother said I should just let you do what you wished to do."

Horace gave a little sigh; he must have been wrong about Jane enjoying herself; his own desire must have been overshadowing how he perceived her reactions. He felt horrible that he had just been thinking about what he wanted. Although he was as innocent as she, he was the one who had the lion's share of knowledge. From what she had just said, it seemed she was very ignorant indeed. He hoped Jane at least knew what he was supposed to want to do.

"I do not want to do anything that you do not also wish to do," he told her. "I want us to experience joy together in being together. I am sorry if I have done too much, too soon."

"That is not it, Horace. She told me a lot of things but told me I am not to speak of them with you, that you might think such knowledge would reflect badly on me. I do not wish for you to not respect me or to think I am too forward. Yet, I am eager to try those things that can take place between a husband and a wife."

Horace could not believe what he was hearing. But he doubted that Jane could know very much. He wished to reassure her, however. "I promise not to think less of you for any knowledge you have. It is well if you know what to expect."

"Not just what to expect, Horace, but things we might try later. Things I would like to try now." Her face was stained red with her blush but perhaps also desire.

"What would you like, my dear?" Horace dearly hoped she, too, wanted to let him divest her of her clothes.

"It is embarrassing to say."

He leaned closer to her, "Then whisper it in my ear."

"Horace," the slight tickle of her breath against his ear made him stiffen further, "I want to see all of you, to run my hands along your body, to have you do likewise and perhaps . . ." her voice got even softer as she told him about her other desires.

Horace was almost overcome. Never had he imagined that his new wife might be as eager to experience all manner of things he had long fantasized about as he. If his eagerness at that moment to proceed overcame his good sense and resulted in the ripping of both of their clothes as he could not make his fingers be nimble enough to undo buttons, his new wife did not seem to mind based on how she, too, flew at him. In the end, they were both well pleased.

They spent the rest of the day and night together in her chambers. Neither noticed any hunger, but what they could gain from the other.

While Jane noticed a soreness the following day, she also felt as if all of her body had been awakened to desire and finally every bit of her had a different purpose from what she had ever known before. She knew all would be well with her marriage if they could but only continue to give each other such joy.

Horace for his part was sore as well, but most happy with his marriage. As he admired his wife's curves (she seemed to have no modesty and for this he was most grateful), he silently blessed the unfortunate women who had taught him so much, his new wife's mother for giving her daughter such a good education, and his father for arranging the match.