She withdrew to gaze into his face, eyes shimmering, smiling sweetly, and touching each feature tenderly. “Sometimes I am yet amazed at how deeply I love you, Fitzwilliam. This week has been torture, but it has been enlightening in revealing to me how profoundly I require you in my life. Not that I doubted our love and unity in any meaningful way, but I do not think I fully realized all the inconsequentials. Hearing your voice, sharing the little moments of my day, reading with you, taking sips of your brandy, stealing food off your plate so I do not appear a glutton, dressing to match your attire, arguing with you over some silly thing. Do you have any notion of how often I would think, ‘Wait until I tell William what so-in-so said.’ Or, ‘How William will laugh when I tell him this’?” They laughed together, Darcy nodding in absolute understanding.
Lizzy smoothed the hair away from his face, cupping his jaw and kissing lavishly before again withdrawing. He moaned lowly, eyes glazed with desire. She removed his right hand from her thigh and kissed each finger before placing his palm over the soft mound on her belly. “Mostly I missed sharing our child with you,” she whispered, smiling joyously at the wonder crossing his expression as he gently pressed and explored.
“I cannot believe the difference a week has made.” He was grinning foolishly, unaware that Elizabeth had loosened her dress until it fell over his head where he was nestled into her stomach. She laughed as he freed himself from the fabric, grinning up at her as she untied the chemise and exposed her front side.
Bared, the small bulge and thickened waistline were clearly visible, as was the rest of her glorious body, placing a serious dilemma before Darcy. His groin lurched in response to her luscious flesh, but he could not resist reverently touching the evidence of their child. Tears sprang to his eyes, and, kissing her abdomen, he spoke chokingly, “Sweet child of mine, I am home. This is your father and I love you. Oh God, Elizabeth, this is so amazing! Can you feel her often? Will I be able to yet?”
“I feel him frequently. Tiny flickers deep inside only; however, I think we are close to feeling him externally. Maybe another week or two.”
Darcy was absently caressing her belly while studying her eyes. “Have you been well? Any further pains? That news deeply concerned me, but I trusted Aunt Madeline's opinion, and you said they ceased.”
Lizzy shook her head. “Physically, I am marvelous. My only pains have been in my heart.” Fingers laced through his hair, Lizzy continued breathlessly, “Fitzwilliam, my lover and my soul, if you are not too famished or hurting I would prefer to make love. I have longed for your touch on my body and the ecstasy of our joining. I will handle you delicately,” she finished with a mischievous smirk.
In truth, Darcy was famished, having not eaten since the previous night. Nonetheless, his hunger for her was far greater. Running hands inside her chemise, he again kissed her belly as he rose slowly, placing moist kisses up her torso to bosom while stroking her shuddering flesh. Lizzy moaned, arching into him and releasing a shaky breath while trailing fingers over his back and shoulders, carefully avoiding the damaged areas, panting with need and delight. He released her breast suddenly with a groan, claiming her mouth in a pervasive kiss as he crushed her body into his, pain seemingly forgotten. He was clearly lost in a haze of desire. The weak hand kneaded one perfect breast as he continued to ravage her mouth, intoxicated by her breath and succulent lips.
Lizzy was no less aroused, but his dressing room was not where she wished to love her husband. Twisting out of his clutches with effort, mildly amused at the expression of glazed confusion flittering over his face, she took his hand and led him into their bedroom. She sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to remove his boots. Darcy was a man obsessed. The pain of his shoulder was insignificant compared to the raging agony to love his wife. Fleetingly, he wondered how he had ever managed to pass so many years without intimacy when one week was nearly killing him! Of course, he rationally understood that it was not intimacy in the clinical, carnal aspect that he desired, but the consuming demand to bond with his wife. To communicate with her in this profoundly fulfilling way, to give her pleasure, to feel her and taste her, to bury himself into her as they became one body for a time, to possess her as only he ever would, to express his passionate love for her… it was paradise.
He played with her hair as she completed her task, peeling the chemise off each creamy shoulder as he trembled with desire. She looked up at him from her stooped position between his knees, hands traveling over strong thighs to the buttons of his breeches. “You should lie down to avoid hurting your shoulder.” She rose to her knees, stroking under the loosened waistband to his bottom while slipping the tip of her tongue into his navel.
Darcy gasped, hands tightening on her shoulders. “God, my Lizzy, do you have any idea how desperately I need you!” She was trailing moist kisses up to his chest with hands probing. Lizzy stood finally, allowing the chemise to fall. Darcy groaned harshly, shaking his head slightly and closing his eyes. “Beloved, I should warn you. My self-control is naught.” His voice was rough with urgency. Meeting her eyes with voracious yearning rawly exposed, he stammered, “At the merest touch of you I am certain I will explode in utter rapture.”
Lizzy smiled, pulling him to his feet. She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Lay down and fret not.” He removed his breeches, joining her on their bed, carefully lying flat with Lizzy to his right, encircled with his strong arm. She kissed his neck, caressing over his firm chest, whispering into his ear, “I can assure you, Fitzwilliam, love of my life, my hunger for you is as tremendous.”
With simultaneous sounds of pleasure, they kissed, greedily absorbing each other, drowning in unparalleled love. Always conscious of the injury to his left side, Lizzy loved her husband with abandon, their mutual delight fulfilling and powerful.
Afterwards they lay entwined with Lizzy clutched tightly in Darcy's right arm for several blissful minutes, breathing heavily, and relishing the delightful sensations yet coursing through their bodies as well as the astounding felicity in merely holding the other. Lizzy was crying silently, tears of contentment and relief. With a soft grunt, Darcy turned to the side, hugging her tightly to him while smoothing the tousled tresses of her hair away from her face.
He frowned. “Beloved, why are you crying?”
Lizzy smiled and shook her head. “Happiness, love. I warned you, did I not? I cry frequently, yet now I judge for good reason.” She fingered his hair. “I missed you so terribly, William, and am delirious to have you back. I love you, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” He kissed her, caressing over her body, already sensing reawakening desire, but she pulled away and snatched his hand. Kissing his cool fingers tenderly before sitting up, leaning to bestow a quick kiss to his forehead, she then leapt out of bed. “Where…?”
“You need nourishment of the substantial variety,” she declared decisively, wrapping his enormous robe around her.
Darcy smiled. “You stole my robe.”
“Borrowed out of necessity,” she corrected. “I furthermore liberally splashed your cologne on it, which will likely render it undesirable to you, so I guess it now belongs to me,” she concluded smugly, approaching him with two more pillows retrieved from the armoire. “Here, let me help you up. I will prop you up with these pillows and we can have breakfast in bed. Easy, dearest, allow me to… William! Behave!” He had taken advantage of the gaping opening to the voluminous robe and was caressing her skin and amusing himself at her breast. “Mr. Darcy, I am serious! How can I nurse you to health if you are a belligerent patient?” She slapped searching hands and sternly scowled at him, but he unrepentantly seized her head and pulled close for a thorough kiss. Lizzy melted, willingly relenting.