Yearning For You: A Pride and Prejudice Novella (A Blissful Mariage, Book 1 - Hot Mush Series)

by Lory Lilian

“Come,” he said, taking her next to the stove. He sat in the armchair and put her on his lap. She smiled, and her arms circled his neck. Their faces were so close that their lips touched when they spoke.

  “My beautiful wife, the only reason for my distress is that my body and my mind are maddening moment by moment, waiting to love you as I want. I cannot wait to finally be united as we should… and I do not want to do that until we arrive home. I cannot allow our wedding night to take place in an inn. If not, we could have stayed at Netherfield and been much more comfortable.”

  “Oh…” she whispered, blushing. “I understand…” She averted her eyes a moment, her cheeks burning.

  “I am afraid you do not.” He laughed and gently bit her lips. “This is why I am reluctant to go to bed with you although there is nothing I want more. I do not think I shall be able to restrain myself.”

  She felt his gaze deep inside her, invading her soul; her skin quivered with each word.

  “Please do not restrain yourself from anything you want, my husband. It matters little where we are since we are together. I always insisted I would only marry for love, but I never imagined love could feel this way.”

  She blushed at the double meaning of her words but continued. “I mean both in mind, in heart, and in body. There is a flame that burns within me whenever I am with you, so powerful that it frightens me. I have read about this, and I talked to my aunt Gardiner about the felicity of marriage, but nothing compares to what I feel. And I know that decorum requires me to be ashamed of what happened earlier in the carriage. But I am not. All I can think of is what might follow, what else you might teach me.”

  “My beloved Elizabeth, you must never be ashamed of anything you feel,” he replied, tightening his arms around her. “You cannot imagine how happy your words make me, just as you cannot imagine how strong, how frighteningly powerful my own feelings are for you.”

  “Then show me, my beloved husband. Forget where we are and show me…”

  Her gaze deepened into his eyes, and his reason was soon defeated.

  “Very well, my love. You will become my wife completely only when we arrive home. But there is more I can show you until then, and many proofs of my passion that I can give you.”

  Darcy pulled her against his chest, and his mouth captured hers until both lost their breath. Even then, the kiss did not break. Elizabeth sensed his hands caressing her legs and lifting her nightgown, and she moaned in pleasant anticipation of what would come. She wished to tell him to move to the bed and blow out the candles, as her gown was already up to her thighs.

  But she could not speak through imprisoned lips. She gasped in surprise when she felt lifted and placed astride his lap. He caressed her spine, her neck, and her shoulders while her breasts brushed his chest.

  After some tormenting moments, he finally withdrew a bit, looking at her. He was smiling while her cheeks burned in embarrassment. To her complete shock, he rose, still holding her in his arms; she gasped, clasping her legs around his waist to avoid falling.

  He kissed her again, moving with her across the room. She caught a glimpse of them in the mirror but did not dare look further.

  Eventually, he sat on the edge of the bed and then climbed into it, never releasing their embrace. He leaned back against the pillows while she struggled to adjust her position. He released her legs and placed her knees at his sides.

  “Are you well, my love? Should I stop?” he asked hoarsely.

  She silenced him with a passionate kiss of her own in which he readily engaged.

  “Would you like to feel how much I desire you, my darling?” he moaned, pulling her against him.

  “Yes,” she murmured. Her senses were in torment, and she was not aware of his intentions until she felt his hardness pressing against her inner thighs through the silk of her nightgown and the fabric of his nightshirt.

  She cried, but their joined mouths crushed the sound of her delight.

  “Elizabeth…” he whispered, biting her earlobe. His hands held her hips possessively, stroking her body against his. With astonishment and strange, deep pleasure, she felt him growing harder and stronger, and she continued the torturous movements herself, first shyly, then more daringly, driven by his moans and her own.

  “Yes, my love, this is just perfect—please do not stop,” Darcy begged. Her delight increased, and her restraint vanished as she understood she was pleasing him. Her strokes became more daring with his every whisper. He cupped her face and kissed her as he lowered the gown from her shoulders. She broke the kiss only a moment, helping him take off his shirt. Her breasts were crushed against his bare chest, and the delicious sensation made them groan and kiss again, more possessively. He caressed her back then lowered and lingered on her hips and thighs.

  His mouth then abandoned hers and moved to her throat. He pushed her backwards so his greedy eyes could finally enjoy her beauty.

  “My love,” he whispered as she closed her eyes. Her head leaned back, her hair falling on her naked skin and his. Then his fingers brushed against her breasts, cupped them and caressed their roundness with eager tenderness.

  “Please…” It was her turn to beg, and an instant later, his mouth hastily replaced his hands, covering the soft skin with countless kisses—sucking, tasting, savouring. And it was still too little for them both.

  She called his name, and her plea only increased his desire. His mouth did not abandon her breasts; his hands caressed her inner thighs, and inside her a fire was growing. Her skin was torn between the inner warmth and freezing chills. His fingers finally touched her core with daring possessiveness, as he did not doubt her desire. Her body stroked against his hardness, her breasts still bearing the sweet torture of his mouth and her core the tender touch of his fingers. The storm of sensations she experienced earlier grew even stronger, and suddenly, she could neither think nor move. As her moves ceased, he kissed her lips again, and with gentle determination, his hands commanded her hips to resume their dance. With its own will, her body obeyed, and their movements began anew, stronger and faster until loud moans burst from them at the same time, quickly covered by a deep kiss. A moment later, their bodies shattered together in an exhausting release of restrained passion.

  Neither could speak nor breathe easily for a time. Elizabeth’s head rested on his shoulder, and he gently caressed her back and her hair.

  He withdrew enough to face her. Their upper bodies were naked, their thighs still united. His fingers glided into her hair, tantalising her earlobe.

  “Are you well, my love,” he asked. “You look so beautiful…”

  She tried to smile and nodded, and he tenderly kissed her forehead.

  “We should change our night clothes and try to sleep a little,” he said, and she nodded again.

  He reluctantly pushed her away and left the bed, his back to her. He changed in a dark corner of the room while she held a sheet around her and put on another nightgown, grateful to her mother for purchasing several new ones.

  They returned to bed, and Darcy embraced her again, placing the warm quilt around them. Their hands joined, and every gesture was now tender and comforting.

  “Will you not tell me what you are thinking of?” he asked.

  “Of you…only of you…of what you said earlier, that there is much more. I pray that the storm will end soon…”

  “As do I, my love. Let us rest now.”

  Darcy knew he could not possibly sleep; their little interlude was real torture for him—although the sweetest one. He smiled, recollecting the glow of her beautiful face and the sparkle of her eyes from the passion and pleasure they shared.

  “Fitzwilliam?” Her voice startled him after the long moments of silence.

  “Yes, my love?”

  “I would like to show you how much I love and desire you. It is my turn.
Will you teach me how to do it?”

  His heart skipped a beat. Her tender, genuine plea stirred his blood, and he removed the quilt to cool himself. His body craved the sensations hidden within her words, but he kissed her temple and spoke softly.

  “I shall teach you all and everything, my love…after we arrive home. Now, please speak no more as you are in danger of not sleeping at all till morning.”

  She chuckled and pressed her lips where his heart was beating.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Darcy,” were her last words before sleep eventually claimed her.

  Darcy remained alert, listening to the rain and her steady breaths. From time to time, her hands moved along his body, caressing him in her dreams.

  He too had caressed her in his dreams—awake or asleep—many days and nights. He dreamed of her rather than trying to pursue her months ago. But how weak his imagination had been and how poorly did he conjure her passion and desire. The long delay in the completion of their marriage must be his punishment, he thought with amusement while placing a tender kiss on her hair.

  Chapter 5

  It was still dark when Darcy awoke, startled by complete silence. The voices had long since ceased, and the rain had stopped.

  He had slept little, but his mind and heart were light. He checked the time, wondering how soon they could leave.

  Darcy slowly abandoned the bed that wore traces of their passionate interlude. He changed into travelling clothes then looked outside. The sun was tentatively making an appearance, and the sky was brighter than the day before.

  Elizabeth still slept peacefully, her hair falling over her back as she slept on her side. Quietly, he left the chamber and went downstairs. The Notts were already attending to their duties.

  “What news do you have about the roads?” Darcy inquired of the innkeeper.

  “The rain stopped several hours ago. No carriage has passed yet, but the creek is lower, and the bridge is usable. If the weather does not worsen again, you should be able to leave safely.”

  “Yes, that is what I hope, Mr. Nott.”

  “Shall I prepare something for your journey?”

  “That will not be necessary. We should be in Town within an hour. We shall have breakfast here before we depart. Are Mrs. Johnson and the children well? Mrs Darcy will no doubt inquire.”

  “They are. The young lady is awake, and we sent her milk and food.

  “Good.”

  “Sir, would you like me to send a maid to help Mrs. Darcy prepare for the day?’

  He hesitated briefly. “I shall let you know if that is needed. Mrs. Darcy is still asleep.”

  Pleased with the preparations, Darcy returned to his wife. Her face was bright, and a smile twisted her lips, still red from his kisses.

  He sat on the bed and caressed her hair. She sighed and murmured something but did not awaken. He gently removed the sheets, and her body was exposed to his admiring eyes. The gown, gathered up around her legs, was sliding down from her shoulders. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and she finally glanced at him.

  “Good morning, my love.”

  “Good morning, my dear husband. How is the first day of our marriage?” she asked teasingly.

  He lay on the bed by her side, fully dressed, and embraced her. “Better than the evening. The storm has gone. I hope we shall be home soon.”

  “Thank God. Then allow me to prepare so we can leave without delay,” she said as she cuddled to his chest.

  “There is still time. We shall have breakfast and wait until we are certain the roads are passable. But I shall do more than let you prepare. May I help you?”

  Elizabeth’s smile broadened. “I would appreciate your support, dear sir.” She paused, her smile becoming slightly nervous. “Do you know how to do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Help me dress. Where could you possibly have gained such knowledge?” she asked, only half in jest.

  Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “I have no knowledge of the kind, Mrs. Darcy. But since you ask, I shall gladly answer that I have never been in a position to perform such an activity before. But I am willing to learn. I trust I can accomplish everything a maid can do.”

  “I am sure you can. And I apologise for my inquiry, it is just that…”

  “Yes?”

  She rose so their eyes met. “I know I am being childish and unreasonable, but I cannot escape a sense of jealousy. It is not that you have done anything to justify such a reaction. But I keep wondering and worrying…there, I said it. What do you now think of your foolish wife?”

  He appeared amused at first, but her earnest expression made him frown. “My love, is this true? I am glad you told me, but how can you be jealous? What have I done to arouse such worries?”

  He kissed her hands, and she forced a laugh. “My aunt once told me I have sense and wisdom and I should use them, but it seems I have failed—both in the past and recently. I keep imagining other women resting in your arms. I wonder whether you have travelled with another woman before or spent the night at an inn. I know a woman of consequence should not think of such things and, even less, to speak of them with her husband. You must be appalled by my behaviour, and I apologise if I am a bother.”

  “My love, never imagine you might bother me or that anything you do would ever appal me. And yes, I have been intimately acquainted with several women before. I am a man of almost thirty years with my share of worldly knowledge. But no, I have never travelled with a woman outside my family, and I absolutely have not spent the night at an inn with any of them. Why would I? Any such connection never involved a romantic attachment. I was never in love before I met you, my beloved. That is why I was frightened by the feelings you aroused in me and by my complete lack of control over my desires. That had never happened to me, and I needed time to recognise the depths of my affection for you.”

  She caressed his face and kissed his jawline with tenderness. “I know that without any doubt. So do not fear that I need other proofs. I feel your love and devotion in every gesture, every glance, every word. But there is a silly feeling that squeezes my heart from time to time. I shall defeat it in time, I promise.”

  “Just let me know what I can do to help you in this quest, my dear wife.”

  Darcy lifted her impromptu and placed her upon him, her body stretched out atop his. Her face was a breath away, her bare shoulders, revealed by the fallen gown, were under his gaze, and her breasts were pressing against his chest. She was almost naked while he was fully dressed.

  Gently, her lips found his for a deep, passionate kiss, and her scent intoxicated him—but only an instant, as she leapt up, leaving him aroused.

  “Mr. Darcy, it is time to keep your promise. Help me prepare so we can quickly resume our journey.”

  He reluctantly obeyed. She searched her luggage for the gown she would wear while he stood enthralled by her appealing curves. Her skin was shining, and her long hair danced with every move. Her feet and ankles were a thrilling sight while her lips—licked in preoccupation from time to time—invited him to taste them.

  She held up a gown. “Is this appropriate? I know I shall meet the staff for the first time, and I need to make a good impression—at least on them since I failed to impress their master at our first meeting,” she teased him.

  “Your failure to impress me on our first meeting was entirely my fault, and no blame can be laid to your dress or appearance. But you will be happy to know that you made an exceedingly good impression on our second meeting—and the third and each successive one that followed.”

  She laughed and returned to his arms, embracing him. “Then why are you so serious, sir?”

  “I just realised that my offer to help you dress was unwise. If I watch you or touch you a moment longer, we are in danger of not leaving here in a timely manner. I shall ask Mr
s. Nott to send you a maid, and I shall wait downstairs,” he said with complete sobriety.

  She laughed again and refused to let him leave; eventually, she opened her arms, and he moved to the door.

  “So you have broken your promise, Mr. Darcy. It will be the first time,” she said demurely.

  “I have, and I apologise. You must think of a punishment for me, Mrs. Darcy—when we are finally home.”

  ***

  As opposed to the previous day, the weather was excellent for the journey. The sun shone although it continued to be cold.

  In the Darcy carriage were the newly wedded couple and Mrs. Johnson with her children huddled in a corner and desperate not to disturb them.

  “Mrs. Johnson, in what part of town is your uncle staying?” Darcy asked. “I believe it is safe to take you to his house if that is acceptable to you.”

  “Thank you, sir. If it is not too much trouble. My uncle, Mr. Silas Cramton—I am not certain I mentioned his name before, forgive me—he will repay you for everything you have done. I have no words to thank you. My uncle lives on Grosvenor Street at number ”

  Darcy tried to conceal his surprise. “I see. That is rather close to our house. No trouble at all, I assure you, and no repayment is required. We are happy we could help.”

  “My uncle would like to make your acquaintance and thank you nevertheless,” the woman said shyly.

  “We would like that too. We shall be rather busy for several days, but if Mr. Crampton sends his card, I should be happy to meet him next week,” Darcy answered politely, much to Elizabeth’s amusement.

  For another hour, while the carriage rode steadily, the two eldest children found enough bravery to speak to the Darcys. They were smart and well behaved and made the time pass more easily.

  Even with guests, both Elizabeth and Darcy were painfully aware of each other’s nearness and the fact that they were moving closer to the long-awaited solitude and comfort of their home.

  London received them with animated streets, clouds, and fog. The Season had begun, as the elegant appearances of ladies and gentlemen proved.