by Beth Massey
As Darcy walked back to the cottage, he felt invigorated after washing away the dust of his journey. He cautioned himself to go slow as it was important to their future to make her first time as pleasing as possible… and leave her wanting more. The cold water of the waterfall cascading over his body had dampened his ardour.
Upon re-entering the cottage, he saw her pose and laughed. Despite the humour, the vision of her proffered behind immediately resulted in the renewal of his erection. She had known what she was doing when she bent over to entice him. Those twin globes had long been beckoning him to make what was between them his—but that would have to wait for another time. Today he would pluck her maidenhead not her beautiful bottom. His eyes took in other parts of her anatomy. All were lovely, and unlike when he had removed her clothes, he was not being forced to respect propriety and ignore the sensuousness of her body.
While bathing, he had devised a scheme to increase her excitement as much as possible so that when his penetration untied her virgin knot she would be caught up in a swirl of heightened anticipation, and the pinch would register less. Part of his plan was to make her wait and increase those feelings of wanting something more before he delivered the inevitable pain. He slowly towelled his hair and removed his boots—watching her observing him with a hungry expression. Finally, he took a deep breath as he removed his robe. Despite her insistence, he was concerned for her reaction upon seeing him. He prayed his appearance would not frighten her—she was, after all, still naïve and totally unprepared for what was to happen—no matter what she had heard the maids say. And then he remembered her look of mischievous defiance as she had uttered, ‘My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me’ at Rosings. He looked at her with amusement.
Her gaze was relentless as she inspected him. Making their way down his body, her eyes settled between his legs. “You look different than Achilles.”
He decided to diffuse the tension with humour. “Lizzy, my love, how observant you are. I am sorry, but I do not keep a helmet here at the cottage. I hope you are not disappointed.”
Her laugh was deep and throaty. “No, my betrothed. That was not what I was contemplating.” Her eyes twinkled as she explained. “You are not smooth and white like he is, but I rather like the way the hair grows on your chest… and then down your belly and beyond. It makes me think of an arrow directing my eye to notice…” she paused a moment before chuckling and pointing to his arousal. “And when I do, I see you are so much bigger and stiffer.”
“The better to ‘poke’ you my dear. Besides, Achilles is looking at his heel, and I am looking at you. That makes a world of difference. I am certain if he saw you as you are now, with that luscious rear enticing me to explore—despite his being made of marble, you could provoke a rise out of him.”
Darcy positioned himself to be able to begin their erotic adventure by fondling her posterior. His finger drew a light as a feather trail down her back until it arrived at those luscious orbs. Once at his destination, his hands delighted in the silky softness of her skin and his mouth followed. She shivered as his tongue followed the same course down the valley of her back to those heavenly hills. He revelled in her little gasps expressing delight when he covered them with kisses and followed with a few nips. He imagined punishing her for implying he was not a gentleman and the vision of her bottom covered with the hand imprints of her penance caused him to grow. Instead, he whispered words comparing her bottom to a ripe peach… velvety soft, juicy and begging to be savoured and they were met with first a giggle and then a sigh.
As his mouth and fingers explored her body, his lush voice expressed the depth of his love. He knew her pleasure was dependent on his ability to contain his own needs… and desires. He kept repeating to himself… slow hand, slow hand. Keeping his touch light and caressing and his kisses soft and warm on her flesh was his mission at the moment. They would have a lifetime to experiment with more demanding lovemaking.
He returned to paying homage to her ears. She met his nuzzles and kisses by arching her neck and favouring him with a softly moaned observation. “I never imagined anything as heavenly as this.” In return, he whispered agreement, “Oh, Lizzy, my dreams of you are nothing compared to the taste of your sweet succulent flesh.” ”She purred with catlike contentment, at his words, but her next utterance convinced him her impertinence was not diminished by the throes of ardour. “You have tasted my peaches, but, please sir, try my raspberries… my raspberries want you to sample them.” Lifting her torso, she pointed to her breasts.
Dutifully, he placed a final battery of kisses on her beautiful behind and followed with a spur of the moment slap. Her startled cry and the passion filled expression on her face as she looked at him in surprise spoke volumes about possibilities for their future.
He turned her over, but before he could begin his adoration of this side of her body, she surprised him by pressing her bosom and belly against his chest. He smiled as she wriggled against him in a rubbing motion and encircled his torso so her hands could snake their way down his back toward his buttocks. Her caresses, though naive, were threatening to ruin his plan for a slow sensuous seduction. Fortuitously, her fingers became distracted and moved from his backside and suddenly became fascinated by his curls. An exploration of his buttocks at this time could have caused him to rush and take her without a thought for her pleasure in the wake of the months he and his hand had spent imagining her.
He wanted his next kiss to be filled with a passionate promise of the things to come. He remembered something Belly had told him she enjoyed when they had been young and together experimented with all manner of earthly delights. Just before his tongue entered Elizabeth’s mouth, he used it to leisurely trace the curve of her lips. She sighed a bit from his gesture and, once inside, she followed his lead and their tongues slowly danced with patterns as elaborate as the cotillion they had performed together at Netherfield.
His kisses and nibbles travelled down her neck, in anticipation of reaching the lush fruit of her teasing words. When he had removed her wet clothes, he had marvelled at her breasts. They were not overly large, but oh so lovely—a perfect handful of pert beauty—creamy white globes with pale pink circles crowned by a shade darker nipple. He had imagined himself taking them into his mouth at the time and had been pleased his fantasies would be enhanced by remembering the reality of his Lizzy. In his wildest imagination, he had not believed an hour later he would be doing just that. As he applied his lips and tongue to the task of feasting on her bosom, his hands began an exploration of her hips, her belly and below. Pulling back to observe the impact of his initial foray, he noticed on closer inspection that her nipples, did indeed, look like raspberries. They were round dimpled balls, now engorged by her arousal to a bright ripe red. His tongue licked each delicately, but soon he was moved to alternately pull them into his mouth and gingerly graze each with his teeth. The noise she made was animal-like—somewhere between a whimper and a bleat. Fingers replaced tongue and he pulled and twisted her nipples as though he was plucking the fragile fruit from their canes. In the next instant, he began pinching them. With each escalation of his demands, they hardened. Her eyes grew large and luminous as she warily watched him punish her ‘raspberries.’ When the panting began he knew she was deriving pleasure from his torture. He smiled as he felt her body shudder. He took that as a sign and, once again, began planting kisses as he traversed the plains, valleys, meadows to arrive at her mound. When his mouth reached the divide between her thighs, Elizabeth’s pants had become growls.
He began by stroking her gently between her legs. Her hand followed his and instructed his fingers to spread the folds of flesh until he found the little hooded bud buried within. Once she had forced him to pay attention to her special spot, she responded to his rubbing with a sigh of satisfaction and began purring much like Bice. Laughter bubbled out despite his attempt to stifle it, and he felt her tense. He applied his thoughts to pleasing her and reined in his mirth. Thi
s must have been what she meant when saying he had control over her body—his sweet inexperienced love must have gone exploring in the wake of one of their exchanges… was it during Netherfield or after his proposal. The more he rubbed the little nub she had been so insistent he touch, the more she responded with the tell-tale signs he knew to be the harbinger of a woman’s climax—muscular contractions, the arching of her back and a low guttural groan. He wanted more time before he provided her with a release. He forced her back from the edge by asking his own impertinent question. “Lizzy, how did you find this place?”
She replied between moans and mews. “I found it when I was looking for the source of those little spasms—the ones that happened when I secretly imagined you kissing me. Do you think me wanton?”
“No, it pleases me that you enjoy your body.”
Catching her breath she panted, “It feels ten times better when you touch me… there.”
“Ten times… Oh my, how powerful you make me feel.” He wondered how she would respond when he implemented what was next in his adoration of the virgin scenario. As was proper, he had never taken anyone’s maidenhead. In his code of proper behaviour, gentlemen should reserve that honour for their wife—just as a lady should be intact for her husband—or husband-to-be. He had heard Belly’s tale of how painful it had been for her. Her squire had just taken what he wanted without a thought for her pleasure. Susan’s experience had been even more horrific. How could a father do that to his own child? Much of his time in the pool beneath the waterfall had been spent thinking of ways to minimize the trauma for Lizzy’s first time.
Her eyes were shining with expectation and the movement of her body seemed bent on hurrying him along to the climax of their love making. From the first time their eyes met, she had been impossible to intimidate; and even today she continued to thwart his grand scheme for her delight. As his fingers leisurely explored her mound, he pondered her confessed similar explorations. She probably had at least a rudimentary understanding of how what they were doing should feel. Bella had more than once allowed him to watch as she pleasured herself. Witnessing the sensual explosion possible without a man, was quite erotic and with her not intimidating. The stakes were not as high. He felt in competition with Lizzy’s fingers. He wanted to thrill her with his love making skills, but his feisty love seemed determined to make her own pleasure using his hand—even if it meant she had to instruct him how to give her that feeling. He chuckled to himself as he remembered how that air of defiance had been the spark that first kindled his attraction.
But, it was time the woman he would spend his life with learned who was in charge. His fingers left her dripping folds and defiantly separated her legs. Kneeling between them he heard a quick intake of breath and other sounds that told him she was not pleased. Quickly bending toward her sex, he brushed it with his nose and made a show for her of inhaling deeply. She smelled delicious. His erection reacted to the knowledge that this part of her would forever belong exclusively to him.
He looked up to capture her eyes and tell her of his delight but saw instead mortification. Once again, her hands found their way to his hair. This time she was not lovingly running her fingers through his curls. Instead her hands were vigorously tugging them—trying to move his head from her sex. Her hips began twisting and turning attempting to buck his face away.
Gone from his mind was his seduction plan. In irritation, he removed her hands from his hair and said in his most commanding voice, “Miss Elizabeth, you will do as I say. Now that you have agreed to be my wife, I will brook no more questioning of my conduct. Besides, you shamefully and wantonly enticed me with your backside and demanded this! Stop wiggling and let me have my way with you.”
Oddly enough that seemed to be what she needed. Passion flared in her eyes with his words and his ardour responded in kind. Returning his face to its previous position, he rubbed her gently on either side of her mound with his nose before making a renewed grand display of smelling her. The deliberate movements of his fingers as he set about exploring her folds again were enhanced by blowing softly as he uncovered each new layer. With each puff, her body relaxed and embraced the pleasure he was offering. After spending some minutes teasing the entire area, her precious hooded nub was standing up and begging for more in concert with the sounds of desire purring in her throat. As he prepared to shift his area of attention, he glanced toward her face. Her eyes were half-closed and the tip of her tongue peeked out from her lips. With a chuckle, he observed that she and Bice shared much in common when responding to his ministrations.
His tongue began slowly traversing her slit from top to bottom ending in that area leading to her other opening. He lingered for a few seconds imagining the future as he taught her all the delights their play could encompass. Dutifully he returned his fingers to her bud which was still standing at attention awaiting his next assault. He began playing with it gently—stroking, flicking, nipping with his teeth. Besides her constant purring, all he heard from her was the occasional, “Please, Mr Darcy.”
“What do you want, Lizzy?”
Her voice had a breathless quizzical quality as she replied, “poking?”
“Ah, poking. So that no longer frightens you?” He watched as her head shook no. Still, he did not immediately seize the moment. Instead, his tongue settled into a rhythmic circling and two fingers stole inside and stroked the walls of her portal. Oh my, she was wet. The humiliation of being sniffed seemed to have been completely forgotten. His erection lengthened and hardened in reaction to her enjoyment of his devotion—particularly when her hips pressed upward to drive his fingers deeper. Her purring had ended and been replaced by a gruff fierceness gurgling from her throat. He had begun to believe during their exchanges at Netherfield that she was a woman who would embrace love making with gusto—her reaction was proof he had been correct. Another chuckle threatened to escape as he remembered Caroline Bingley taunting him to take a turn about the room with her and Lizzy. He had been unable to do so because of the inconvenient bulge this woman, who now stared at him in lustful expectation, had inspired in his pants.
Fitzwilliam decided now was the time—she was dripping and he was throbbing. His rationale, if that was possible in a moment like this, was that by entering her now he would alleviate some of her discomfort. Remembering her reaction earlier, he did not convey his concern but demanded action from her. “Raise your knees and spread your legs.” No misunderstandings now, she obeyed immediately and looked at him as though he was some mythic god of pleasure.
In preparation for this moment, he had replaced his tongue with his thumb. He returned to concentrating, once again, on that little button, trying to bring her as close to the crest of her enjoyment as possible before he plunged. She begged. “Please, please, Will, make it soon… don’t hesitate.” This time he was unable to suppress a burst of laughter when he realized she was back to calling him Will. Never had he imagined what an aphrodisiac controlling this impertinent being’s passion would be for him.
The poor dear, her whole body seemed to be on edge and she looked slightly crazed in her adoration. He took pity on her and acted. As expected, she winced with pain. “Lizzy, I am so very sorry. I have been told it is only like this once.” This part of controlling her was not to his liking. He loved her too much to enjoy her pain. His kiss became tender, and he prayed it conveyed the depth of his feeling for her. Placing her legs around his neck, he began thrusting. Within seconds, the look in her eyes told him her pain had subsided. A rush of excitement shook him as he realized she was instinctually urging him deeper. He thought he heard the word ‘more’ interlaced with her pants. His considerable experience was with the practiced pleasure of professionals, but he believed it a good sign when the sounds emanating from her became cries of urgency and she comingled ‘please’ and ‘harder’ with ‘more.’ This represented a much more acceptable form of power over her. Her begging pushed him closer to his own letting go.
Though his release was
building, his obligation to her denied him the right to completely lose himself in the moment. Instead he spent time gauging what was happening to his beloved. His most important decision was whether she would travel with him across the abyss or did she need a push. The noises she was making made him believe she needed some help from his thumb, so he did his duty. Her response came within seconds as a shrill shriek that reminded him again of a cat came from his dear sweet Elizabeth. Her whole body began jerking uncontrollably. He thought about withdrawing to thwart any embarrassing consequences to their action but did not want their first time to be less than it should for his wife-to-be to remember in the years to come. Besides, he would insist they marry quickly enough to squash any rumours surrounding an early issue. Before he had time for much debate on the subject, the clenching of her muscles around him hurtled him over the edge. An animal like sound of pleasure accompanied his eruption as well. With eyes widened in wonder, she stared up into his for a few seconds. Finally she donned a smile that was broader and filled with more joy than he had ever seen in another. It was as if he had given her a most precious present, and he felt it a possibility she did, indeed, consider him a god of earthly delights.
4
PLEASE SIR, I WANT MORE
Lizzy wanted to laugh but feared Will would deem giddy behaviour inappropriate at the conclusion of his momentous performance. A memory of him chuckling in the midst of their coupling came to her; but then she recalled how masterful and commanding he had been… and the sounds they had both made at the end had reminded her of the howl cats made when indulging… but his had been deeper… perhaps the way a lion might roar. Praying what he had done for her had not caused him pain; she stroked his back and listened to the slowing of his breathing. Once calm, he rolled off and moved to her side, pulling her to him. Marvelling at how perfectly their bodies fit together, she rested her head just below his chin. As though still feeling the need to orchestrate their encounter, he captured her feet between his legs and nuzzled her neck. In addition, he seemed to feel propriety demanded he thank her for the pleasure she had given him and whisper how much he loved her until he was rendered speechless by fatigue.