William locked the door quickly, returning to his wife and kneeling at her feet. He pulled her face down towards him and kissed her firmly, then gently pushed her back into her chair.
"Relax, my love, and let me take care of you."
She sighed softly while he slid her skirt up over her knees, then lifted one of her ankles to his mouth. He ran his tongue and lips from her ankle to her knee, occasionally giving her skin a light nip with his teeth.
"Perfect, my darling, you are perfect," he said as he switched from one leg to another.
"Mmm," she replied, her eyes closed with the pleasure of feeling his warm lips on her knees. He reached up and tipped her hips back, then slid her skirt the rest of the way up. She moaned louder with the first nip of his teeth on her soft thigh.
Then he moved up higher.
"God, how I adore you. You're an angel, a perfect being. And you taste so good, my wonderful, divine goddess." He began using his tongue to show her exactly how much he adored her.
He lost track of how many times she called his name, and how many times she began stroking his hair and ended up pulling it, but he did not lose track of his goal.
Five minutes after he stopped, her eyes were still closed and she was still stroking his hair, but she had caught her breath.
"We have a while before tea time, my love, would you like to rest for a while?" William asked, kissing the hand that wasn't in his curls.
"Mmm…" she replied.
"Alright, Elizabeth, nap time," he chuckled. He returned her skirt to its traditional position, then stood up and took her in his arms.
As he was carrying her to their bedroom, he couldn't help but reflect that if, several years ago, someone would have told him that he would find a wife so precious to him that he would have someone like Lydia Bennet in his guest room, let alone carry that wife half-asleep through his halls after making love to her in the library, he would have accused the person of being too drunk to be respectably seen in public.