Once alone in the Roman style bathing chamber built of heavy masonry and tile in the foundations of the western wing of the hotel, the low arched roof glowing golden and rippling from niched candles surrounding the pool, they were caught up in a flare of raging need. Darcy entered the water first, Lizzy exiting the dressing room moments later wearing a thin shift. She crossed to where he waded in the waist high water, eyes greedily assessing his figure. The vision of his lean physique, with solid, defined muscles wetly glistening in the subdued lighting and black chest hair enhancing his virile masculinity—as well as creating a pathway pointing to the equally delicious and manly lower body only partially obscured by the opaque mineral water—sent her ardor skyward.
She paused at the edge long enough to ask one question, “Is it hot?”
“Only tepid,” he replied, arms reaching to assist.
Lizzy nodded, sitting onto the edge and slipping into his ready embrace without hesitation. He pulled her onto his chest, hungry hands roaming everywhere seemingly at once. His voice grated from where bared teeth grazed over her shoulder, “My Lizzy, I desire you so profoundly. I fear I may be unable to be gentle.”
“Do not try, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, legs encircling his waist and drawing him firmly against her.
He groaned, any regulation entirely lost as he lowered them both into the water, knees resting onto the last step with Lizzy’s bottom on the one above, driving deeply within her all in one smooth motion. “I missed you,” he murmured, panting already with the furious pace they mutually craved, “I needed you.”
Her response was a quick nod of agreement and then a rough grip to the back of his head, pulling him closer for a pervading kiss that lasted for several minutes until the rising sensations rapidly overtook them and mouths separated to release guttural cries of pleasure.
Long minutes later, as Darcy bobbed gently about the pool with Lizzy slumped against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, she said, “That was wonderful.” Darcy chuckled at the understatement, hands soothingly caressing the water over her back and shoulders. “Correction, it was amazing. Stupendous. Earth shattering. I wonder if the hydropathy experts intended crazed lovemaking as part of their therapy treatment. They should, as I feel incredible.” She pulled away until she could see his smiling eyes. “I haven’t coughed in quite a while now.”
“Well, without founded scientific evidence to determine the definitive cause of your restoration to prime health and eradication of the cough, I suppose it is my duty to ensure that both treatment plans are abundantly administered.”
“Indeed, that does appear to be the logical conclusion. So how soon might I anticipate a repeat dose of fantastic loving, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy chuckled again, that singular deep, throaty chuckle that was more a sensuous growl. “We have another thirty minutes slated for our bath, and if you remove that shift and continue to touch me as you currently are, a second dose is imminent.”
Lizzy’s laugh was equally sensual, the soaked shift discarded a second later. They made love again, temperately as they floated about the pool, reveling in the blissful water waving over their naked skin and the romantic atmosphere.
It was the mere tip of the iceberg. For the entire sojourn they rarely left their rooms. Darcy had planned a few short excursions, depending on Lizzy’s stamina, but few were done. They managed to dress each day, late in the afternoon or evening, for strolls along the secluded pathways. The weather was gloomy, with drizzling rains frequent, so their walks were brief and kept close to the hotel. They were blessed to catch a stunning lunar rainbow on their second night while wandering hand in hand along the trail edging the river during a break in the rain. The combination of moisture in the air, a nearly full moon sitting barely above the horizon, and the darkened sky created a pearly moonbow in a complete arc with a hint of colors visible. They stood for as long as possible, awestruck by the phenomenon, until the encroaching rain misted their faces.
They raced back to the lodge, damp and slightly winded, but exhilarated by the fresh air and breathtaking visual treat. The rush to remove moist clothing to prevent chilling only led to a rapid tumble back into the unmade bed they so recently vacated.
They were utterly insatiable.
“I believe that the moon has turned you into a wild beast,” Lizzy teased, her respirations gasping in time with her spouse’s. She lay draped across his naked chest, sweat slick on their flushed skin, satisfied and deliriously happy as she tickled over his sensitive rib cage.
He rolled her over, hands clasping her wrists over her head. He grinned wickedly, eyes brazenly scanning over her body, and shook his head slowly. “Perhaps. But personally, I do not think the moon has anything to do with it.” And without further ado he lowered his mouth to her bosom, beginning an oral exploration that would eventually have her crying his name in ecstasy.
The exalting pleasure of endless romance with the one person loved more than all others was stronger medicine than the drinking water or calmative baths. Lizzy did sleep for long stretches, but woke refreshed and ready for more romance, often initiating the procedure although Darcy roused swiftly each and every time. Her appetite for both food and her husband increased hourly and daily. It was a pattern of lovemaking, talking, laughing, eating, more love, or maybe sleep, that repeated again and again. Neither could unequivocally assert that they broke any records in those three days, but it assuredly was remarkable. They separated only for their individual toilettes, hastily washing before returning to renewed intimate play and exercise. Darcy did not even bother to shave, Lizzy teasing that the whiskers validated the animalistic transformation. Not that she was complaining one iota!
On their last night, they lay spooned together with Lizzy’s back pressed tightly into Darcy’s chest. One long, muscular leg twined over hers, keeping her secure and warm. They had napped for several hours after their last wild interlude that had begun while properly dressed and sitting at the dining table when Darcy impulsively hauled her onto his lap to lick the gravy off her bottom lip. That was enough to spark the smoldering fire. The dining chair, thankfully large and sturdy, was utilized efficiently and was miraculously undamaged when they crumbled into a heap of weakened muscles that required approximately fifteen minutes of immobility before staggering together to collapse upon the bed and fall into a deep sleep.
Now they were awake, but content to talk quietly, caress tenderly, and stare out the wide windows at the glowing moon and sparkling stars peeking through the broken clouds. A fire crackled, providing the only illumination. Darcy idly kissed along her sloping neck, rough beard sending delighted shivers over her spine, and ran his fingertips lightly over her flat belly.
“Do you think it possible we created a baby while here, Elizabeth?”
Lizzy smiled, drawing the fingers clasped within her own to her lips for a kiss. “Considering your stored seed after a long abstinence and that we made love, what, a million times?” She laughed. “I imagine it is possible.”
“I pray so. I am ready for another child.” He paused, cupping her abdomen, and then resumed with conviction. “I believe we have. I feel it.”
“Do you now? Clairvoyance, is it?”
“Not precisely, no. But I wish for another baby, one who resembles you this time. And I always get what I want,” he finished with smug assurance, grinning as Lizzy laughed and turned in his arms, face radiant with happiness and superb health.