Yet, despite the ever-present desire to make love to his wife and the instantaneous emergence of his physical response to her passionate touch, Darcy restrained himself. His teasing references to engaging in rushed lovemaking were not untrue or unwelcome, but he comprehended that preparing for a social event took time. He appreciated how carefully Elizabeth fussed over her appearance for these engagements and knew without a doubt that she would stun him with her beauty and perfection. Therefore, he stifled the groan lodged in his throat and pulled away from her lips to commence a languid exploration of her neck with gentle kisses. He moved his hand to the small of her back and slackened the pressure holding her body tightly against his.
“I was thinking,” Lizzy whispered huskily, biting his earlobe sharply, “I bathed this morning so do not really need to do so again, and I am sure Marguerite has my garments prepared, and you can remove my day dress as well as she, so… Oh!”
Darcy had uttered not a word. Instead he precipitously lifted her into his arms, moving quickly to the bed. Just that quickly, his solicitude disappeared!
Lizzy laughed breathlessly. “You had to carry me the ten steps to the bed? We couldn’t walk?”
“Far speedier this way. Time is of the essence, Mrs. Darcy.” He grinned, but was quite serious. He straddled her thighs, hastily discarding his shirt and tossing it onto the floor, and then bent over her supine body with a hand next to each shoulder and arms straight, his body not touching hers. He drew close, his mouth inches from hers. “What is your pleasure, my lover? Shall I kiss and lick your flesh, your writhing and pleading driving me insane with desire until I cannot resist and bury myself deeply here as you lay? Or do you wish to be in control, sending me to places unimaginable with your skillful touch?” As he spoke in a soft whisper he moved his lips along her jaw and face, warm breath stroking her sensitive skin with each word interspersed with feathery kisses.
She was already running her hands over his torso, squeezing and pressing as she arched her back in an effort to contact his body. “I have no preference, Fitzwilliam. Just hurry!”
Darcy smiled, aware she was no longer referring to their evening’s agenda and the preparatory requirements. God, how I rejoice in her response to me! The power to excite her so easily, so continually, was intoxicating. Of course, his ardor was as swiftly roused, probably even more so, the fire blazing uncontrolled through every nerve and his groin aching with need.
Suddenly it was not about the shortness of time but rather the impatience to be one as they attained pleasure unparalleled. A ragged groan burst forth as he again captured her mouth in a plundering kiss. He kept himself aloft, unerringly using one hand to unclasp the row of peach cloth-covered buttons down the front of her dress.
Lizzy clasped onto his shoulders, abruptly pushing him away as she launched upward from the bed. Darcy was momentarily surprised, but immediately relaxed, sitting back onto his heels. “Impatient, my love?” He asked with a salacious grin and raised brow.
“Together we can accomplish the task quicker.”
And they did. Seconds later she was completely nude, garments strewn wildly about the room for probably the thousandth time since their wedding night. She instantly attacked the straining buttons of his trouser fall, eliciting rumbling groans and tensing muscles as she spared several minutes in focused titillation to the newly exposed flesh.
“Oh Lizzy! Please… stop!” He tugged harshly on her pinned hair, not intending to cause her pain but desperate to halt the arousing actions that threatened to send him over the edge without her.
She rose as he bid, running her hands around his hips and over his firm buttocks, holding on as she joined with him in one strong motion. Simultaneously, they expelled loud sighing moans, assuming a familiar rhythm.
Neither spoke, although the room was far from quiet. Time may have been short, but they enjoyed the interlude and did not rush. Attuned to his wife, Darcy knew seconds before she shouted and arched her back, fingertips digging harshly into his shoulder as she shuddered. He released the residual thread of his control, utterly succumbing to the spasms rushing through his body just as she cried out his name.
The dazzling euphoria that blinded their eyes and gripped every muscle lasted a short span of time, but the warm tingling remained long after they collapsed onto the cushioned mattress. Lizzy idly caressed the muscled leg lying across her abdomen as clarity restored and she became aware of the familiar deep, rhythmic exhalations wafting over her bare shoulder. She chuckled, turning to gaze upon the face of her spouse. He was flushed, satisfaction evident in the upward tilt to his lips, but he was also falling into a doze, as he often did after they made love.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said with a laugh and nudge to his inert shoulder, “we must leave in less than an hour. No time for a nap.”
He garbled unintelligibly, moving only to cup one breast and plant a weak kiss against her upper arm.
She laughed harder, wiggling and twisting until he was rolled onto his back with her leaning on his chest. She inevitably felt invigorated and alive after they loved, especially in the middle of the day. Darcy frequently did as well, but more typically he experienced a period of satiated inertia. He recovered fairly quickly—sometimes recovering very well and desiring a repeat performance—but for that span of time, he was borderline stuporous.
Caught between a laugh and an annoyed grumble, Darcy opened his eyes slowly, peering into the radiant face of his wife. “Go on ahead, darling,” he mumbled gratingly, “I’ll just rest here for a minute or two.” And his eyes slipped closed.
“Oh no you don’t!” She exclaimed, leaning to kiss his lips and playfully slap his cheeks. “Samuel will scowl and scold if you force him to hastily dress and shave. You insisted on having your way with me so now you must pay the price.”
“Ha!” He said with increased vigor. He opened his eyes, the blue orbs shining and clear, and grinned. “I was prepared to be a gentleman until my lascivious wife threw herself upon me.”
“Well,” she countered, “You can no longer wail and bemoan your need for comfort amid the stress, now can you?”
Any retort was lost, Lizzy delivering a pert kiss before launching from the bed. She was laughing as she flounced toward her dressing room, turning at the door to blow a kiss his direction. Darcy happily watched her naked figure sway and mince, his lethargy abruptly disappearing in the surging joy that life with Elizabeth brought. With a final chuckle, he too rose from the bed, his step light and gay if a bit more swaggering than his wife’s.
Darcy chaperoned his sister for her initial appearance at Almack’s Assembly beginning that Wednesday.
Dressed in one of a dozen new gowns designed specifically for her Almack’s engagements, Georgiana was a vision of loveliness. Again the mixture of pride and dismay that pierced Darcy’s heart was difficult to bear. He knew his sister well enough to recognize the subtle signs of her anxiety and shyness, yet was amazed at her outwardly tranquil expression and lack of fidgeting. It had taken him at least two years to master the reserved aloofness that was now too easily construed as arrogance and disdain, his hands still often betraying his discomfort by twiddling in some manner. Georgiana, on the other hand, was the picture of serenity.
They arrived some half-hour before dancing commenced at eleven o’clock. “You do not wish to be the first to arrive,” Darcy explained to Georgiana, “nor should you delay and miss the opportunity to secure a respectable dance partner for the first set.” Thus with impeccable timing, they presented their subscription tickets and passed through the widely opened doors, entered the revered interior of the premiere dance assembly in all of England.