Two Months Later

"It doesn't matter where I've been or what I've been through."

– D. Warren

Elizabeth reclined against Will, lying back on his broad chest, letting the warm soapy water relax her. Will was doing much the same, though relaxation was the furthest thing from his mind as his nude wife sat between his legs, his one hand resting at her knee that peaked above the bubbles and the other finding her thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin beneath the water.

They had each had a long day – she with William and a now three-month-old Lizzie and he at the smithy. There had been plans to spend the day together but, the evening before, Will received an urgent request to move up the date of a completion for an order from next week to the very next day. Elizabeth had politely told him she understood, but he knew she was disappointed and so was he; he had imagined far different things for the day than toiling over the hot forge. He supposed he could have simply said no and wondered afterward why he hadn't but, as Elizabeth told him, it wasn't in his nature to shirk responsibility. This was one of his many qualities that she knew and loved.

Thus, regrettably, Will had left very early that morning only to finally return in the late afternoon in just time enough time to spend an hour or so with the children before supper, and several hours as a family afterwards. But now William was abed, little Lizzie was asleep, and Will and Elizabeth could indulge in some alone time, something they were each currently basking in – and quite properly too, for today was their eleventh anniversary. Moreover, although they had been wed exactly eleven years, it truthfully felt more like the very first wedding anniversary as they had now been together – living under the same roof as husband and wife – for precisely that long.

Elizabeth felt Will's lips at her collarbone and she was broken from her reverie, his wandering hand at her thigh awakening her relaxed body to other, more vigorous pursuits.

"Captain Turner," she scolded, "I thought we were merely bathing." Her hand plucked his from her knee, leading it across her stomach, effectively wrapping his arm about her, belying her next playful reprimand. "Your behavior is shockingly inappropriate."

"Better here than having my way with you at the dining room table, as I wanted to," Will responded, his lips reconnecting with Elizabeth's skin at the curve of her neck and shoulder.

"Yes, and don't think I didn't notice your hand edging up my leg beneath said table."

He looked up at her and grinned. "And why not the dining room?"

"Beyond the presence of our children?" she pointed out, attempting to give him a wry look but finding it rather difficult to muster anything but rapture with his teeth engaged in nibbling her neck.

Will laughed. "Yes, beyond that," he said, pausing in his seduction. "I know you're not opposed to making love in unusual places. We've already 'christened', as you called it long ago, nearly every room in this house."

Elizabeth smiled, reciting aloud the many varied spots that had witnessed their lovemaking. "The parlor," she said immediately, the speed and tone of the response indicating this was a room that frequently housed their ardent activities. "The washroom," she indicated with a flourish, looking about and recalling the various scenarios.

"The kitchen, the pantry," Will supplied, his eyebrows rising at the memory. "The smithy – on multiple occasions; who would ever guess fencing was such a powerful aphrodisiac?"

"The garden, and the beach," Elizabeth continued. With a throaty giggle, she added, "And – last week after you'd just returned home and I was waiting for you – the stables."

"Mmm yes," he murmured, his hand creeping to her waist. "I spent hours picking hay from of your hair afterwards."

"It was worth it though," she purred. His lips brushed across her neck in silent agreement. "Then there was that one time, a month ago, in the coach on the way home from Emmeline's dance."

"You started that," Will mischievously accused.

"But you were the one who couldn't wait till we got home to finish it."

"Why wait? You were already on my lap, your dress at your waist and your bodice completely undone."

"And whose fault was that?" she challenged.

"The both of us I imagine, you for looking so beguiling and me for having such a knack at quickly removing your clothing," he answered in a delightfully roguish tone. "And, as I recall, we 'finished' again at home."

Elizabeth smiled, biting her lip to halt the involuntary moan that rose up in her throat at the memory. Though but a soft sigh escaped her, Will detected it. His mouth alighted on the sensitive spot where her ear and jaw met, applying gentle pressure with his lips as his teeth grazed the receptive skin.

"Sei bella," he murmured, taking her earlobe into his mouth. She immediately craned her neck to the side, allowing him full access as his tongue traced her ear, his facial hair rubbing against her neck and his hot breath upon her skin an erotic combination. "Sei desiderabili," he breathed.

Reaching down into the water, he extracted her arm from where it rested against his atop her thigh. Holding it at the wrist, he stretched her arm out, slowly running his free hand along it. When he reached her shoulder, his fingers were replaced by his lips as he pressed a trail of blazing kisses across her collarbone. "Voglio fare l'amore con te tutta la notte."

"You're feeling rather amorous this evening, resorting to Italian and all," she teased. Despite her nonchalant words, her breath had long since quickened. They were so close together she knew he could feel it as well as see it in the accelerated rise and fall of her chest, where his eyes had currently drifted. Nevertheless, she was determined to playfully hold out so he would seduce her all the more. "You must want love in the bathtub quite badly," she bated, smiling at her pun.

"I'll freely admit, I do."

"How badly?" Elizabeth alluringly questioned.

Will raised his lips from her neck, viewing his wife's saucy expression with a sparkle of amusement twinkling in his eyes. Though at times she favored leading the seduction, more often she enjoyed being pursued. Will knew initial resistance so that he would charm, persuade, and entice her into giving herself to him was a favorite game of Elizabeth's and he was always more than willing to play – both to please her and because the end result benefitted them both.

"Very badly. Voglio il tuo amore," he whispered against her ear. His hands sliding up her ribcage, he breathily added, "Adesso."

Elizabeth had had enough of resistance for one night and, with a splash of soapy water, turned in his arms to sit upon his thighs, one knee on either side of his hips. "You speak it magnificently and I'm quite thoroughly aroused," she whispered as his hands settled low at her waist. "But it really isn't necessary. All you need do to earn my love is….." She paused, considering. "….Be here. Of course the breathtaking way you look naked, dripping wet also helps," she said, sliding her hands down his chest, her fingers disappearing below the waterline to glide down his abdomen.

Will's lips latched onto her throat, causing Elizabeth to arch her back into him – the effect he knew he would achieve – bringing with it the welcome sensation of her chest pressed against his.

Her hands clutched onto his muscular arms, his mouth continuing to move down her chest, just as a piercing wail carried from across the hall, through their bedroom, and the partially opened washroom door.

They both froze in their actions, recognizing the shrill cry as belonging to their young daughter, who had obviously awoken and was rather unhappy. As much as Will loved his daughter, his was all but in the process of making love to her mother, and his body begged him continue; after all, Lizzie would not go unattended.

Will's lips rediscovered Elizabeth's neck. "Let Eleanor get her," he coaxed, his tongue darting out across the hollow of her throat, adding to the persuasion.

Despite the shiver of pleasure that went through her, she shook her head in the negative. "Not this time. I'm afraid she requires me alone. That's her hungry cry." The feeling of fullness in her breasts normally alerted her that her daughter was overdue for a feeding long before the child awoke in such a fit, but her husband had her otherwise distracted.

Will had no argument for this. He was shamelessly passionate about his wife, it was true, but he would never allow his daughter to go hungry so that he might take part in carnal pleasures. Nevertheless, it didn't stop the nearly overwhelming ache for her…..which he ought to be accustomed to by now. This wasn't the first time Lizzie had interrupted such an act and, excepting the perturbation it threw his body into, it was a curiously warm feeling experiencing fatherhood in this brand new light. Yet, as Elizabeth rose from the tub, water falling from her glistening body – not at all helping his own – Will's mind was firmly fixed on other things.

Elizabeth grabbed a nearby cloth, beginning to towel herself off, watching as Will climbed out of the bathtub, following suit. She noticed with a smile that he had been as ready as she. She took a step toward him, but another of Lizzie's cries filled the air.

"Ooh," Elizabeth slightly gasped, feeling her body instinctively respond to her daughter's cry. She looked down to her chest, with Will following her gaze, to witness a small trickle of breast milk ooze from her.

Will slowly smiled, rather from the motherly associations of lactation or from viewing her nudity she wasn't certain – though from the look on his face she suspected the latter was winning out.

"Here, let me," he softly offered, reaching out with his towel and tenderly wiping the drops away. However, when his touch remained far longer than was necessary she looked pointedly down at his hand lingering at her breast. Snapping to attention, he removed the offending hand, devilishly offering, "You were still wet."

"We'll work on that later. Our daughter needs me now." Shrugging into her robe, she pressed a short kiss to his lips, whispering, "Save my place."

"Hurry back," Will murmured, wrapping the towel about his waist and tying it over at the hip…..exactly where her knee had just been.

When Elizabeth walked into her daughter's nursery she found her in Eleanor's arms, as she had indeed responded to the child's cries, knowing her master and mistress were currently in the bath and, perceptive as she was, imagined they were embroiled in things they would not wish to be disturbed from.

"Lizzie, my darling," Elizabeth fussed to her as she crossed the room.

Hearing Elizabeth's voice, Lizzie instantly stopped crying, her eyes searching out her mother, her arms flailing out in excitement as soon as she found her.

"Is my poor baby hungry?" Elizabeth asked, taking her from Eleanor.

As the maid quietly exited the room, mother and daughter made eye contact and Lizzie smiled widely, one last large tear falling from her eye as she began to babble to her mother.

"There now sweetness," Elizabeth cooed, kissing Lizzie's little nose and cradling her in her arms as she sat down in the rocking chair, opening the top of her robe and leading the babe to her breast.

It was nearly an hour before Elizabeth finished feeding, burping, changing, and rocking Lizzie back to sleep.

Opening the now-closed door to their bedroom, Elizabeth gasped, smiling in wonder at the picture that met her eyes. In the time she had been away, the room had been made over into a lover's paradise. Candles were lit all around, their soft magical glow bathing the room in hushed dancing light as a warm, gentle breeze blew in through the open balcony, the lulling sounds of the sea drifting in from the beach below. Their bed had been remade – with sheets she had never seen before – in sumptuous silks that looked decadently soft even from across the room, and scattered across the coverlet were dozens of fragrant red rose petals.

Her husband stood near the bed, shirtless and barefoot, his dark curls falling wild and free. He looked impossibly gorgeous and utterly desirable. Together with their transformed bedchamber, it was a breathtakingly dreamy, romantic image.

"Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Turner," Will softly uttered as Elizabeth closed the door behind her.

"Will," she said in amazement, "when did you….." She trailed off, looking about the room, still taking it all in.

"While you were with Lizzie," he answered. "Eleanor had already arranged the new bedding I purchased while we bathed," he informed her, and Elizabeth's eyes momentarily flicked over to the bed, wondering that she had not noticed it before – but then again she had whipped through the room unseeing on her way to get to her crying daughter. "And I must confess," Will sheepishly continued, "Ann helped me gather the candles – but I picked the roses myself from our garden."

"It's beautiful," Elizabeth replied, stopping just before him. "Happy anniversary, Captain Turner."

Stepping into his chest, she softly kissed him. His tongue traced her top lip and, her arms draping about his neck, she opened herself to him, deepening the kiss. Yet, a moment later, he pulled away.

"Actually," Will said, his voice already husky, "this is more than just an anniversary. This is the wedding night we never got to have."

Elizabeth looked away from him to the room around her, and all at once she realized what he had meant to create. Long ago, in the days of their courtship, when various times they had forgotten themselves and nearly wound up making love without the benefit of matrimony, at the last moment Will always restrained himself, insisting her deflowerment occur in a marriage bed of silks and satins, with flowers and lace all around, in a perfectly elegant bedchamber that was soft and feminine, romantic and pure, everything befitting a true lady. Looking about, that was exactly what he had created.

She turned back to her husband, looking adoringly up at him.

"I'm only sorry it took eleven years to get here," he conveyed. "…..Long lonely years."

"In a moment like this, all of that is insignificant; it holds no power now," she gently disclosed. "It doesn't matter what it took to arrive at this moment. The only thing that matters is that we're here."

"Finally," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers and breathing her in.

"Finally," she echoed.

Elizabeth smiled then. Inching her body closer to his, she ran her hands over his chest, bending to brush her lips across his faded scar. "I love you, Will Turner, wholeheartedly, inconceivably, copiously love you."

"With all that I have and all that I am, with my heart and my very soul, I hopelessly, breathlessly, undeniably, irrevocably, wholly and utterly adore and love you, Elizabeth." The backs of his fingers softly tracing her jaw, he adding in a whisper, "My Elizabeth."

Drawing her closer, he brought his lips to hers in a kiss that began tender and loving and slowly transformed to passionate, hungry, and voracious as they clung to one another, Will gently nipping her lower lip then pulling it into his mouth and sucking, eliciting a yearning whimper from Elizabeth. Sweeping her up into his arms, he placed her down upon the bed of silk and rose petals.

Sitting beside her, Will unbelted Elizabeth's robe, slowly separating it from her body. His eyes fell upon her and she looked up at him in keen anticipation, but he did not touch her. Instead, leaning over her, he pressed a sensuous kiss to her lips, then got up, moving to the foot of the bed. Wordlessly, he lifted her leg up, running his hand along its length before propping her foot against his thigh. Starting at the top of her foot, he began to blaze a trail of hot ardent kisses, next on her ankle, then her calve, followed by her knee.

Setting her leg back down softly against the bed, bending he slowly crawled up her body, continuing to kiss his way up her leg to the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh. There he diverted his mouth around to her outer thigh and up her hip, his lips trailing her hipbone. Crossing over her lower abdomen, he blew softly into her navel before laving it with his tongue. Then he continued up her stomach, his mouth tracing each rib and his hands softly caressing her all the while with the practiced touch of a lover who knew exactly how to please his mate.

Lowering himself upon her, he moved his mouth across the base of her breasts, his lips hovering above her skin before settling with a kiss in the valley betwixt them, his mouth staying carefully in the middle, until he reached her throat, which he paused to favor before arriving at her mouth.

Elizabeth was trembling beneath him, her eyes aglow with naked lust as her fingers gripped his shoulders.

Thoroughly pleased with her reaction, he breathily teased, "Did I miss a spot?"

"The best ones."

Will grinned. "I save the best for last"

His mouth at last found hers, his tongue mimicking the act of love they were about to perform. The kiss was intense, deeply ardent – scorching to say the least – and Will moaned softly into her mouth, enjoying it as much as she. Finally he broke away to kiss along her jaw, dropping his lips down her neck and throat, to his wife's delight, toward those 'best spots' he had missed.

Shifting from where she lay against Will's chest, Elizabeth rolled onto her back, stretching and sinking into the mattress. Glowing, she felt sated and utterly worshipped, as if every part of her had melted into liquid beneath his touch and his kisses.

"That was beyond incredible, Will," she sighed.

"That is how I wanted it to be the first time," he answered, with a touch of wistfulness. "This is what you deserved: silk sheets, a soft pillow….me loving every inch of you."

"Well that I had," Elizabeth teased, curling back against him. "Our first time was marvelous, amazing, magical, thrilling…..perfect. You know that, don't you?" she asked, beginning to wondering if he doubted it was all those things for her. "I wasn't in the least disappointed or disenchanted – by you or our surroundings. You ravished me on an open beach; I'd been wanting you to do that for years."

Will smiled, his hand alighting on the curve of rear. Cupping her bottom, he pressed her body closer to his, but Elizabeth did him one better, scooting fully atop him. He slid his hands up, one to her waist and the other up the back of her neck.

"Are you tired, Mrs. Turner?"

"Not in the slightest," she whispered, bringing her lips to his.

AN: The phrases Will spoke in Italian roughly translated were, "You are beautiful. You are desirable. I want to make love to you all night", followed later by, "I want your love. Now."

Two more epilogues to go that will jump more significantly in time.

And, as always, I have loved all of your reviews!