A/N: I know, I know. I said it was a one-shot. I had originally intended it to be, but then this follow-on popped in my head and I couldn't rest until I saw the words fit themselves together.

Also, in writing this, I learned that ladies in Austen's era didn't wear underwear. At the time, drawers were worn mostly by sex workers. It wasn't until the 1840s/50s that drawers became more commonplace among the upper classes. The more you know.

Library Explorations

Elizabeth felt his presence at the library's threshold before she heard the click of the latch and the snick of the lock. Raising her head from her reading, she flashed Darcy a questioning smile. "I thought you had business with your steward?"

"Completed." He regarded the volume in her hand. "And are you at your leisure?"

She nodded. "Mrs. Reynolds has our orders for the week well in hand. I've been spending some time with your collection, as you can see."

"Our collection," Darcy corrected, taking the chair besides hers. "Some may call your selection depraved, Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth gave him a wry look. "The presence of this book predates my arrival at Pemberley. I should say whoever acquired it is truly the depraved one."

"You wound me, madam." Her husband clapped a hand over his heart. "I believe you owe me a forfeit."

She smiled beguilingly. "Will a kiss suffice?" She rose from her chair and climbed onto Darcy's lap, her head hovering over his. His hands went to her waist to steady her.

"A kiss is always welcome, dear wife." But as he raised his mouth to meet hers, she arched back, dodging out of reach. "Elizabeth?" he asked, nonplussed.

"I did not say where." She palmed the falls of his breeches. Under her touch, his member stirred in interest.

And yet, Darcy demurred. "That is too extreme a forfeit. Come give me your lips."

"That is my intent." She could feel him hardening as her hand continued its gentle petting. "Unless you truly don't desire it."

He threw rueful glance at the book, now discarded. "Your reading habits have emboldened you."

"You haven't answered me, sir. Should I desist?" To punctuate her question, Elizabeth impertinently nipped his chin.

Darcy groaned, closing his eyes. "A gentleman does not ask this of his wife!" But he shifted his hips to increase the pressure of her hand against his member.

She leaned over to whisper hotly in his ear. "Ah, but you do me this service, and to great satisfaction. Let me give you this pleasure. For me, as well as you."

Elizabeth could see the moment her husband gave in to his arousal. "Yes," he breathed in supplication. She rewarded him with an ardent kiss to his mouth, breaking the seam between his lips with her tongue. Her hand continued working his cock against the buckskin of his breeches as their tongues played in a now familiar dance.

She broke the kiss to slide down his body and settled on her knees before him. With a slight tremble of excitement, her fingers undid the buttons of his falls. Darcy eyed her progress, his hands glued to the armrests of the chair, his knuckles white with anticipation. "How fortunate that you had the foresight to lock the door," she teased while freeing his member from its confines. As she spoke, wisps of her warm breath traveled across the head of his cock. He shuddered and stiffened at the sensation.

"My imaginings did not include this particular act," came his strangled reply. As he watched, she wrapped her hand around him, drew down the foreskin, and lowered her mouth to give a tentative lick. His hips bucked hard, straining for more contact.

Elizabeth drew back an inch. "My, but you're eager," she chuckled. "As I am a novice, you will have to tell me what pleases you."

"It all pleases me," he muttered. She bit back a grin at the scowl on his face. How she enjoyed tasking his restraint.

"And if I do this?" Elizabeth experimentally ran her tongue along the underside from root to head, teasing the seam at the very tip, tasting the drop of moisture that had emerged.

"My God." She didn't blink at Darcy's blaspheme, only smiled.

Elizabeth repeated the action a few more times, savoring his response. On the last pass, she sealed her mouth over the flared head, feeling it throb on her tongue. Darcy's hips jerked up and landed back in his chair. His eyes squeezed shut and his hands tangled in her hair. "My God," he repeated.

Holding the shaft of his cock in her hand, she bobbed her mouth up and down on the head, letting him feel the soft wetness of her cheeks. Inhaling through her nose, she was surrounded by the musk and salt of his skin. It was the scent of their lovemaking concentrated. Elizabeth was surprised at how potent an aphrodisiac she found it.

Darcy reached for her free hand, which had been caressing his inner thigh through his breeches. She paused, silently waiting for his direction. "My bollocks," he asked, cupping her hand around them. His hand covered hers as he showed her how to squeeze a gentle massage around them.

Elizabeth continued her ministrations as she resumed her exploration of his head, enjoying the grunts and exhales of his pleasure. Soon enough, she found a slight pattern to her motions. Darcy returned his hands to her hair, following the movement of her head up and down, a slight swivel here and there as she played with angles. His shaft swelled heavy in her hand; the head grew rigid and large, filling her mouth as his excitement reached a fever pitch. "Stop, stop," he begged.

She raised her head to look at her husband. His breath came hard and labored, the buttons of his waistcoat dancing up and down with each pant. "Have I caused you pain?" she asked with slight worry.

"Only the most exquisite kind. Easy, now." He hooked hands under her shoulders and brought her to sit over his lap, careful not to jostle his sensitive member. Her legs straddled his thighs as she steadied herself by gripping the chair behind his back.

Darcy rucked Elizabeth's skirts and petticoats up and aside, searching greedily for her slit. His fingers found the intimate wetness that had gathered during her explorations. Humming with approval, he applied his thumb firmly over her clitoris. Elizabeth gave a gasp as the shock of pleasure tingled through her limbs.

He tugged her hips toward him, fitting his cock against her. "Have you ever ridden astride?" Darcy asked as he slid his rigid length along the slick seam. The movement tracked slippery moisture all around the petals of her sex. Elizabeth shuddered at the feeling and ground her pelvis down against him, seeking more contact, more pressure. He grasped her buttocks, aiding her in her quest.

"Never. Ladies - ah - aren't encouraged…" She trailed off, biting her lip to keep her moans quiet.

Darcy didn't respond at first, too engrossed in watching their bodies move against each other. In her mind's eye, Elizabeth saw the entire erotic tableau - a lady and her gentleman, fully clothed except for the place where she writhed against him. He raised his head; the eyes that met hers were nearly black with arousal. "Take me in," he commanded gently as he gripped her hip, aligned himself, then pressed an inch, and another into her heat. She felt the head of his cock nudge a different, delicious place inside her. "Up now, and come back down."

Elizabeth complied, grateful for the support of his hands as she lifted up a scant inch then pressed back down taking him deeper. "Again," Darcy urged. She repeated the motion once, twice, three times until pelvis met pelvis. They shared a sigh at the moment of connection - one feeling replete, the other feeling enveloped.

The need for friction soon spurred Elizabeth to motion. In their position, she could only accomplish a little rise and slide back into his lap. It seemed to please him, and within moments they established a fast light rhythm, Darcy's hips rising to meet her small downward thrusts. She leaned her weight over him as she rode the quick undulations. Each pulse layered sensation on top of sensation until her head swam with the intense need for release.

Elizabeth knew her husband's crisis was near as his fingers tightened on her hips. In the final moments, he applied his mouth to hers, muffling his groan as his hips bucked in completion. She nearly cried out with frustration.

She needed not worry. Quickly gathering his wits, Darcy used his thumb and forefinger to gently roll and pinch the hood of her clitoris. In a rapid instant, Elizabeth felt the hot fire of climax roll through her veins. As she shuddered her release, she saw white behind her eyelids.

Her heart slowing, Elizabeth let her weight slump against her husband's chest. His arms encircled her in an embrace, still unwilling to break the connection between their warm bodies. "I'll teach you to ride astride once the ground thaws," he murmured.

She gave a small unladylike snort. "Have I revealed aptitude, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy's arms tightened and released, shifting their bodies apart. He withdrew a handkerchief and set about cleaning the evidence of their coupling. He spoke as he worked. "There are some places in Pemberley Woods that are difficult to access for even the most seasoned rider. Riding astride will allow you to join me safely on tours of the park, no matter our destination. I intend for your command of our estate to be as complete as my own."

"You are a radical," exclaimed Elizabeth as they stood to straighten their clothing. "You would educate me to share the role of Master of Pemberley. Are you an acolyte of Wollstonecraft? Do you wish for a rational wife, free of sensibility?" she teased.

Darcy drew her to him, bussing a kiss to her mouth. "You willfully misunderstand me, Mrs. Darcy. But I shall reward your efforts. I wish for a partner with whom I share mutual admiration and affection. Your rational mind captivates me as much as your pleasing form."

His forwardness made Elizabeth blush. Their bedsport aside, she was not yet fully accustomed to his open admiration even after two months of marriage. She sought a reply through her self-consciousness: "It will not be a surprise that I insist on our daughters having as rational an education as our sons, should we be so blessed. But I admit that among my disagreements with Wollstonecraft is the notion that women should not enjoy expressions of love as men do. If I am your equal in morals and understanding, then I am deserving of the same benefits you are in our marriage," she finished stoutly.

"And so you shall have them," Darcy declared. "I anticipate your riding lessons."

"I shall have perfected my seat come the spring," came her quick rejoinder. Elizabeth nearly giggled at his scandalized mien. "Come, now. You cannot pretend surprise."

"Nay, I cannot." Darcy's smile was indulgent as he nudged them toward the door, reaching to unlock it. "Will you join me in my study? I seek your thoughts on some improvements to the Harris' cottage. And I've just received news of an investment opportunity that I believe you will find intriguing."

Elizabeth tenderly cupped his cheek as she passed him to exit the chamber. "My scandalous husband. How am I so fortunate?"

"Some blame must be placed on that author," Darcy replied, nodding his head back toward the book Elizabeth had set aside.

The gilt lettering on the spine read Rights of Woman.

- End Scene -