Chapter 13

Pemberley House was at last quiet. Or at least, as quiet as it could be with a two-month-old with very healthy lungs. All their visitors had departed to their own homes after Ruth's christening. Jane and Charles had moved into Briarwood Manor only eight miles away, and of course Mary was settled quite close. Elizabeth and Darcy had the Wickhams over for dinner or tea at least once a week, and Elizabeth saw her sister even more frequently. Elizabeth was glad to see Mary's relationship flourishing. She felt that her own relationship with her husband was flourishing also.

She wanted to tell him she loved him. She was almost certain he loved her back. Perhaps he was afraid of rejection, as she was, and that was why he had not told her. She had never let anything intimidate her before, not even Lady Catherine. She had the courage to do this.

She planned to tell him tonight. She wanted to invite him into her bed first, however. She had completely recovered from the birth, and with Jane's words in her mind, and seeing how happy Mary had apparently been with her husband's attentions, Elizabeth was willing to give it another try.

Jane had said a husband would touch his wife all over, in places no one else had touched. That had shocked Elizabeth the first time, and she had thought that Darcy was not showing her the proper respect. But she had also been so afraid that she had not been able to allow the possibility of enjoying it. It was likely that Jane was right, and that she would enjoy it, now that she knew what to expect. And she loved her husband. Surely it would be different.

She made an excuse to retire early that night, and then went up to her room to prepared herself. She and Jane had gone to the seamstress in Lambton to purchase Mary's wedding clothes from money Mr. Bennet had sent for the purpose, and Jane had selected a sheer nightgown for Mary to wear on her wedding night. Lizzy had also purchased one for herself, nervously anticipating when she might use it. She put it on now, tied her robe about it, and waited for Darcy to come to his chamber.

When she at last heard him enter his room, and the voice of his valet speaking with him, she waited until Williams left before knocking on the connecting door. A moment later, Darcy opened it, looking curious.

"Yes, my dear? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, of course it is, Fitzwilliam," she said. Now, as she saw his tall, strong body and his handsome face, she felt emboldened by desire, which she had felt before when he kissed her hand or cheek. "I was wondering if you would make love to me."

She blushed at the words, but held his eyes. To her concern, he looked dismayed rather than pleased. "It is not necessary, Elizabeth. I thought we could wait a year or two, until Ruth is weaned, before we try for a male heir."

This was not the response that Elizabeth wanted, or expected, to hear. Hurt, she replied, "Do you not wish to lie with me?"

"No, no, of course I do." He stepped forward, taking her hands in his and holding her eyes. "I desire you very much. But, well …"

She understood his hesitation now. He did not know she remembered the first time.

"I remember the night we consummated our marriage, Fitzwilliam," she said softly.

He looked at her in dismay. "Elizabeth –"

"I think it was simply a fault in understanding," she continued, before she could lose her nerve. "You see, no one had told me what to expect. I was terribly frightened, and had no idea what was about to happen to me."

Darcy's eyes softened in sympathy. "I am sorry, Elizabeth. I should not have consummated the marriage when I did. I should have waited until we knew each other better. But I had hoped a shared passion might bring us closer."

Elizabeth recalled the words he had spoken to her when it was over. "I am sorry, Elizabeth. I – I wanted to make it beautiful for you." She now realized that the look in his eyes at that moment was one of hurt, of rejection.

"I did not mean to make you feel rejected," she said. "It had very little to do with you, personally. I was just so frightened, and I barely knew you."

"I understand, Elizabeth," he said, squeezing her hands comfortingly. "Are – are you sure you wish to try again?"

She nodded. "I do. I am sure this second time will be much better than the first. Jane told me it only hurts the first time."

"I did not mean to hurt you so much that first time, Elizabeth," said Darcy, looking tortured.

"Shhh, my darling. I know that. It was not your fault. It is simply the way women's bodies are made."

She pulled at his hand, and he came a bit reticently into her chamber. She took off her robe and his eyes widened to see her in the translucent nightgown, which revealed more than it covered. "You look beautiful, Elizabeth," he said in a thick voice.

"Thank you," she said, then got into the bed. Darcy followed, removing his robe first. "Are you not going to take off your nightshirt?"

Darcy hesitated. "I did not wish to make you uncomfortable."

"I want to see you," she said simply.

Darcy nodded, appearing to relax a little. He removed his nightshirt and Elizbeth's eyes devoured his form eagerly. His arms, chest, and thighs were corded with muscle, clearly from such an active lifestyle. His chest was spattered with curly black hair, like that on his head. She could see that he was already becoming hard, and she quailed a little at the sight of the large organ. But she reminded herself that it would not hurt again, and reached out to touch his chest.

His skin was satiny and hot beneath her fingers. She could feel his firm muscles underneath the sparse hair, which was surprisingly soft. She looked up at Darcy's face to find that his eyes were hot on hers. She tilted up her head. "I would like you to kiss me, Fitzwilliam."

His eyes darkened further, and he leaned down to very gently kiss her lips. It was a brief kiss, and then he pulled his head back to look at her questioningly.

"Again," she said.

He gave a small smile and leaned down to kiss her again, this time longer. His lips were soft against hers, and she felt pleasure and relaxation flow through her body as she responded. Their lips moved against each other, and she expected any moment to feel his tongue, but he only used his lips. She was not sure whether to be grateful or not.

He sprinkled kisses all over her face, then down her neck. She sighed with pleasure and tilted her head to feel his lips better.

"Elizabeth?" he said softly.

"Yes, Fitzwilliam?"

"May I touch you?"

"Yes."

He laid a hand tentatively on her breast. She held her breath, but as he slowly massaged and plumped it, she found that it did indeed feel wonderful. He was not being disrespectful. He was trying to give her pleasure. And she found suddenly that she wanted to feel his skin against her own.

"Just a moment," she said.

Darcy froze. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all. I simply want to take off my nightgown."

Darcy looked surprised, but helped her as she sat up and drew the garment over her head. "Now," she said, bringing his hand back to her breast.

She was glad to see him smile, and he gently touched her breast again, teasing the nipple until the tip was erect. A moment later, his head descended toward her chest, and his lips had wrapped around the other nipple. She jolted and moaned. She had never felt anything so delicious.

"All right?" said Darcy, looking at her.

"Oh yes! It is wonderful! Do not stop!"

Darcy brought his head down to her breast again, and sucked on the nipple, laving it with his tongue. Then he switched to the other breast, treating it in the same way. Finally, Lizzy felt she could bear no more, twisting and writhing beneath him.

"Fitzwilliam, I need – I need something," she panted.

"I know what you need, darling," he said. "I will take care of you."

He moved his hand down between her thighs, and she was too aroused to even be embarrassed or dismayed when he touched her there. She found that she was wet in that secret place, and was worried that Darcy would soon feel it.

However, he seemed pleased when he discovered the moisture. She was glad she had not disgusted him, but soon lost track of her thought as he moved his finger up and down her folds, making her moan again.

He brought his finger to the top of her folds, and touched an exquisitely sensitive place that made her cry out when she felt it. She did not even know such a place existed on her body. Darcy seemed excited by her response, and he brought another finger to push into her channel, moving it in and out as he made gentle circles around her sensitive spot. She grew louder and louder, not even caring about the noise she was making, until her pleasure seemed to coalesce into something almost tangible. She thought she might have screamed when it hit her, and her whole body shuddered with the pleasure of it. Moments later, or it might have been an eternity, she was floating back down onto the bed, and found she was looking into Darcy's pleased face.

"That was incredible," she said, her throat hoarse. Had she really been screaming?

"Well, I have never been so pleased in my life," said Darcy. But she could hear the tightness of his voice and feel the tension in his body.

"Now for the rest of it," said Elizabeth, urging him to roll on top of her.

He looked concerned. "Elizabeth, are you certain?"

"Of course I am," she said in surprise. "Jane said it would not hurt."

He hesitated. "It should not, but then again, I did not think it would hurt so much the first time."

"Well, I will tell you if it hurts. If so, you can stop."

"Absolutely," he said, moving over to lie between her thighs. This time, Elizabeth did not mind his weight on top of her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to hold close the man she loved. He reached down to position himself, and then pushed infinitesimally slowly inside her.

He was panting with the effort it took to go slowly, but Elizabeth felt no pain. The stretching rather brought even more pleasure. "It feels good," she said. "It does not hurt at all."

Darcy looked relieved as he sheathed himself all the way inside her. Then, he began to move, slowly at first, then faster. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around his waist. It was wonderful, feeling connected to him in such a way, and the friction of his thick erection sliding in and out of her brought a different kind of pleasure. It went on for some minutes until Darcy began to lose the rhythm. His hips stuttered against hers, and then he was groaning and Elizabeth felt his warm seed fill her. He sank down upon her, completely relaxed.

He rolled off her quickly, but Elizabeth did not want to let him go so easily. He held her in his arms as he lay next to her, his breathing slowing. She thought that now was the time to say it.

"I love you, Fitzwilliam," she whispered. But there was no reply. She looked over at her husband to find that his eyes were closed, and he was already snoring.

Amused, Elizabeth chuckled. She could tell him when he woke up. She closed her eyes to sleep herself.