The lamp barely lit the room when he reentered the bedchamber. Elizabeth lay curled on her side, her face turned away from him, the bed linens pulled up around her shoulders. Her even breathing made Darcy believe that his prayer had been answered. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he extinguished the light; and then he slid under the linens with her.As he always did, he rolled next to Elizabeth, to spoon her body with his.
He stilled immediately; completely naked, Elizabeth’s body felt soft and inviting. Instantly, the arousal returned.They had never lain together without clothing between them. What is she doing to me?
Growling back profanity, he lifted his weight to move away from her, sliding as far to his side of the bed as possible. Elizabeth did not move; she remained facing away from him, so Darcy fluffed
Twenty minutes later, feeling relaxed at last, Darcy let his eyes close naturally, although he kept the distance between himself and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had waited quietly for Darcy’s reaction when he crawled into the bed. She had never done anything so bold in her life.Turning down the lamp so Darcy could not see her embarrassment was the only way she could go through with her plan. Her husband desired her; of that, she was absolutely certain. She had simply decided to remind him of that desire on a regular basis. He had controlled their relationship to this point, but now she would take it over.That is, if she could overcome feeling like a complete wanton. Thankfully, Aunt Merry had explained how some men expected their wives to wear nothing when making love. Her aunt feared the rich to be more “experimental” in their relationships, and she offered Elizabeth a warning. It had seemed scandalous at the time, but now it felt more like freedom.
Gauging the evenness of Darcy’s breathing, Elizabeth smiled confidently before she moved. Rolling casually over, as if in deep sleep, she cuddled into Darcy’s side and draped her left leg over his body. Pretending to be in the nearly waking stage of sleep, she lightly kissed the side of his cheek and muttered something unintelligible in a seductive breath. She briefly arched towards him and then settled her head in the curvature of his shoulder.
Darcy stiffened, but, intuitively, his arm came around her, and he held Elizabeth tightly to him. Eyes now wide open and heart pounding, he oscillated between wanting to run far away from her and desiring to lose himself in Elizabeth’s body. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts as he closed his eyes and moaned her name. Her hair draped across his arm and chest—the same chest where
Elizabeth relished how Darcy’s fingers began to trail fire down her spine and across the rise of her hips, but she did nothing more than snuggle closer and brush her lips across his chest. She played at being asleep and let her husband explore her body at his own pace.
Mystified by his inability to stop, Darcy saw himself as disengaged from his own body; his mind fought for control, but, unfortunately, his body overruled his mind’s every objection. Elizabeth would not deny him his perverted pleasure. They had married a month earlier, and his resolve not to have her weakened by the moment. When he thought to die in Wickham’s cellar, his one regret was that he would never know the pleasure of Elizabeth’s love. Someone else would claim her after his death, and the thought nearly drove him insane. Now she lay in his arms, and all he had to do was commit himself to loving her completely.
Impulsively, Darcy rolled her to her back and hovered over her, burying his face in Elizabeth’s hair.“God help me, Elizabeth. I surrender.” His lips found hers in a deep, passionate kiss. “Tell me again. Is this what you really want? If you have any doubts, we should not go through with this.”
“I have more love in my heart for you, Husband, than the dear Lord should allow a woman to feel. I want to be yours, Fitzwilliam, in every way possible—for a lifetime.” Elizabeth did not breathe; she knew Darcy still wavered.
They remained staring into each other’s eyes for several long moments.Then Darcy lowered his mouth to hers.This kiss spoke of hunger and need.“You know,Vixen, once I have you, I will want you again and again. I am a starving man.You will need to suffer my attentions for a lifetime.”
Elizabeth stroked the side of his face with the back of her hand. “I want to feel your skin touching mine—to not know where either of us begins or ends,” she whispered.
Two heartbeats later, Darcy stripped away the shirt, and then he
Passion flared between them as heat rushed to their every pore. Darcy drew Elizabeth closer to him, realizing she hungered for him as much as he did for her.The smell of the lavender oil she had used in the bath clung to her skin, along with some other undefined bouquet, one of wild desire and excitement, and it inflamed him as his fingertips traced a line from her temple across her jaw and down her neck.
His mouth followed his fingertips until Darcy sucked gently at the vein throbbing at the base of Elizabeth’s neck. He nipped at her gently and then moved to the swell of her breasts.
He would make love to his wife—he would give himself completely to her—would forget his perverted sense of honor and responsibility and welcome hope, commitment, and love into his heart.
Elizabeth splayed a hand across his chest and pressed herself against him, robbing Darcy of breath and of any coherent thought. “I love you,” she whispered close to his ear, “for an eternity. I am yours, Fitzwilliam.” The ache of desire became a longing—a craving for what Elizabeth offered him, and intuitively his hands began to search her body, the need to know all of her overwhelming his senses.
“I will be gentle,” he murmured.
“I do not fear you, Fitzwilliam. How could a person fear love?”
“Look, Mama,” the girl called as she twirled in place.
“You are an excellent dancer, Lydia.” Elizabeth sat on a blanket and watched the child playing barefoot on the bank of the lake. The day was sunny, and it called to them to be outside.
The girl stepped left and right and pretended to curtsy to an unknown partner.“Come dance with me, Mama.”
Happily, Elizabeth rose to stand with the child in the clearing. Taking the girl’s hands, she began to count,“One and two and three and four,” as they sidestepped over the carefully manicured lawn.
The girl’s curly auburn hair bounced in ringlets as they bobbed and twisted to the imaginary music, and soon they were in fits of laughter.
“Would you prefer to dance with me, Miss Lydia?” Darcy stepped from behind one of the nearby trees. He was covered in road dirt, but his appearance pleased both the ladies; he was pure masculinity.
“Papa!” the girl’s arms came up in a hug as he scooped her into his embrace.“I am so glad you are home.”
He planted a kiss on the side of the child’s cheek. She might have her mother’s hair and build, but Lydia Darcy was his child, right down to her icy blue eyes.
“Will you dance with me, Papa?”
“Allow me to greet your mother first, Child.” He leaned to the right and placed a lingering kiss on Elizabeth’s upturned mouth. “Did you miss me also, Mrs. Darcy?”
“From the moment you rode off to Matlock.”
Darcy smiled that smile he always gave her right before he seduced her.“The Earl and Her Ladyship send their love.They plan to visit at Michaelmas.”
“Excellent.” Elizabeth moved away to the blanket. “Mr. Bingley and Jane will come next week. They are most eager to meet their nephew.”
“How is James?” he asked as she picked up the squirming infant.
“Damon is perfect,” she corrected as she brought the child for his father to admire.
Darcy rolled his eyes. “The child was named after my father, Elizabeth.” He turned back the corner of the blanket to look at the screwed-up face of his son.