Page 90 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

She bit her lips painfully when she felt his tongue exploring her, tentatively at first then more and more daringly, tasting her with an intimacy that could not be imagined.

Her mind was screaming that he must stop, but it was only a weak whisper compared to her body’s demand and the sound of her crying his name.

Her reason told her this was mortifyingly improper while her senses betrayed her delight and abandoned her to the blissful pleasure he was giving her.

He was gently conquering her and breaking down the resistance of her mind with an insatiable need that overcame her senses until she knew nothing else. A deep moan escaped her as she struggled for air while she shuddered violently under the countless chills that coursed throughout her burning skin.

When her senses finally returned, her entire body still trembled. She could scarcely breathe from the excitement and the weight of his strong, naked body covering hers.

Every inch of his skin was touching her. His strong palms cupped her face, kissing her tenderly. His gaze had darkened while she knew something more was to come.

Her breasts brushed over his chest, and his hands caressed and parted her legs.

“You are my wife now,” he groaned, and her heart nearly stopped as his body finally joined with hers, entering her with eager strength—powerful yet gentle—breaking the last barrier between them.

She screamed, and her body stiffened in pain while her nails dug into his back.

He remained still inside her and put a little distance between them so she could breathe. Then his lips kissed her face while his hands gently caressed her legs, helping her to calm and relax.

“You are my wife now,” he repeated, and she nodded.

He slowly moved inside her, and her moans mixed with another cry.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little,” she barely spoke, her body struggling to adjust to the sharp pain. Her lips were dry, and her voice trembled. “But I knew it would… You are my husband now…”

A gentle, loving kiss, sweet and tender, rewarded her words—only an instant before it turned passionate and eager again.

“Oh, God…please,” she moaned while his hands glided between their united bodies, caressing the parts of her that already craved his touch. She felt him inside her, strong, warm, invading her body with his passion.

“This is so perfect…so perfect,” he groaned while his thrusts shattered her body. It began gently, slowly, and then became more intense, stronger, harder, eager, faster.

The pain increased, but then it seemed to dissipate, mixed with a strange, unknown, and unrelieved pleasure that slowly enveloped her entire body.

His thrusts increased while his mouth trapped hers, his tongue moistening her swollen, dry lips while her moans mixed with his, her soft cries with his deep groans.

Unconsciously, her legs entwined on his back, and she felt him even deeper inside her.

She barely heard his tender whispers, released through the possessive kisses, then her hands tightened on his back while her body began to move beneath him.

The sounds of their united passion were crushed between hungry lips, and she completely lost herself to the renewed pleasure that filled her again. It seemed an eternity until he finally reached the long desired moment, shuddering in release and spreading warm waves inside her trembling body.

It was not him and her anymore, but them together—finally, husband and wife.

They lay on the pillows, exhausted from the turmoil of feelings, their bodies still joined .

Elizabeth thought of nothing but her need for air and the revelation of their fulfilled union.

Her mind refused to admit how it happened, to recollect the astonishing moments before and during the unbelievable, torturous, delightful journey through which her husband had led her.

But her mind mattered little when her body and her heart were still joined with him and his hands were still holding her tight, stroking her back, her arms, her hair.

One thing she remembered vividly: the sensation of his hands touching hers had always aroused her since they first danced together at Netherfield.

She might have thought that his hands could delight her—but how much more, she did not realise until that night.

And no, not only were his hands responsible for her most exquisitely pleasant enjoyment, but also his lips and… every part of him—of her husband.

***

Darcy held his wife as close to his body as she was to his heart.

He felt her still shivering, barely regaining her breath, but not for a moment did she attempt to withdraw from him. Her head still rested near his shoulder, and her eyes were closed while one of her hands was placed over his heart.

Her skin was warm and soft, traces of redness betraying the spots where his hunger allowed him so little patience. The mere thought of her savour aroused his desire again, and he was angry with himself for this lack of control.

He knew he had not been patient enough, and likely, his pleasure must have been a painful time for her.

He was certain that she enjoyed their lovemaking—even more than he hoped for the first time.

But he also knew he must have frightened her with his unbridled behaviour as he himself was amazed by some of his gestures.

Everything he imagined had become true—every inch of her skin he had discovered, explored, and conquered .

He had showed her his love and his passion, he had taught her body the taste of pleasure, and he had learnt what she liked—perhaps much better than she knew.

He remembered every moment of their union, from the exquisite feeling of being inside her, of releasing his long-caged desire, to the most gratifying sensation of seeing her beautiful face glow from the pleasure he was giving to her—to the beautiful woman who was finally his wife.

He had conquered her body, but what about her heart. And he learnt how to give her pleasure, but could he also give her happiness?

His fingers got lost in her hair, and her breathing became steadier. There was complete silence for some time, then she moved slightly, and her hand stretched to reach his. He gently kissed her palm, then his fingers entwined with hers.

“I thought you fell asleep. You must feel tired,” he whispered.

She needed a moment to reply. “I do not feel tired, only exhausted…and astounded…”

“I am astounded, too…but I am not tired, nor exhausted. I am happy—happier than I can remember before…and not just because I had the joy of loving you as I did but because I feel I am your husband—truly and completely.”

“And I feel I am your wife—truly and completely.”

Darcy leant her on her back so that her beautiful face was exposed to his admiring gaze. He pulled the bedclothes over them, but her body was mostly covered by his. He touched her lips. They were red, swollen, and slightly bitten. She moaned, and he gently tasted them.

“Is it painful? I am so sorry. I cannot believe I was such a savage…”

“It is nothing; it is not so much your doing as mine. I bit my lips many times, when… Oh, William… I cannot believe that such feelings exist…that such caresses are real…”

“They are real. They must be as we shared them together…and I hope to do it again soon… ”

His lips kissed her face gently, barely touching her skin. She slowly relaxed under his caresses and spoke more freely.

“Is it always like that?” she suddenly asked, and he did not stop his attentions.

“It will always be like that…and even better once your discomfort and pain vanishes.”

“No…I mean—was it always like that? I know you have done that many times and…”

He withdrew and stared at her. “What are you asking me, Elizabeth?”

“Forgive me—this is a silly question at the most improper time. I do not know what came over me. Shall we sleep now? It must be very late…” She turned to leave the bed, but he gently trapped her and set her back on the pillow while his eyes deepened into hers.

“I am being so silly, more silly than the wife of a gentleman like you should be,” she whispered, her eyes moistened with tears of embarrassment.

“You are not—but you do ask strange questions at strange moments, questions which surely no wife of a gentleman like me would ever ask.” He laughed then kissed her cheek.

“Elizabeth, I am happy that you dare to ask me anything that crosses your mind. As for your inquiry—I did have enough…intimate encounters with other women. I cannot deny that it was pleasant. I would say that, for a man, it always is. But I never felt this way before. I never experienced such joy, such complete delight, such deep pleasure.”

“You are very considerate to tell me such lovely words,” she answered, caressing his face. But he recognised her doubts, so he whispered, although there was nobody to hear:

“I have kissed you ten times more than I ever did before in my entire life. And I have never kissed anyone the way I kissed you. It never even crossed my mind to do such a thing…that is…until I fell in love with you and I could think of little else…”

His tone was low and serious, and she knew he was not speaking of complacency. She distinguished the truth in his voice, and the burden vanished from her heart while she shivered and coloured at the meaning of his words.

She gulped and licked her swollen lips while he gently brushed over them again.

“I shall teach you everything I know about sharing love, but there are still many things we will have to learn together, my dearest wife.”

“I would love to learn everything you want to teach me.” She repeated what she had told him before, although in a completely different context.

He recognised her words and embraced her tenderly. They remained embraced in silence for some time, and then he was the first to speak again.

“My dearest, we should rise and clean ourselves then change and go to sleep in your room. My bed is in a rather bad condition.” He tried to joke, and she blushed again.

He gently put a blanket around her to protect her modesty.