"Yes. You must be right."
"Besides, you and I have always enjoyed ourselves quite a lot, have we not?"
"Indeed," she allowed him dreamily.
"So, do not be afraid. Allow me to show you… it is not that very big."
He then, very slowly allowed his robe to get loose, ever so sensually, approaching her until their bodies were almost one over the other. His closeness was infinitely enticing. Then, he tentatively opened his robe and showed his nakedness to her again. She averted her eyes a little. But then again, he, boldly, took her hand in his and placed it on his manhood. She knew the feeling already. Warmth of the most uncontrolled nature crimsoned her bosom while her hand moulded to him with renewed curiosity.
"You see? It is not so hard."
"No, it is not."
"No, it is not," he repeated after her, his eyes reflecting a yearning she had begun to recognise. "So, may I?"
"You may," she breathed.
After granted permission, he resumed his previous posture.
"I believe this will not hurt," he said cheekily. That said, he proceeded to help himself to the flavours her body offered him and their lovemaking commenced.
Indeed, it hurt not.
Thirty-Six
—
A Question of Proportion
Nothing that Elizabeth had ever been told or that she had ever dared to dream about the wedding night actually happened on hers. Her mother had told her that her husband would "visit" her in her bedchamber and had instructed her to wait for him atop the bed She said that she should not show her husband her discomfort, for most surely it would be most painful given her husband's size (apparently men's appendages went according to height) The deflowering thus accomplished, said appendage would not disturb her until next day, for men could only have their ways once a day only, their ardour barely lasting the short period of the first year of marriage. Then visits would gradually relent until they would become as sporadic as the menses.
Similar accounts were given by most of her sisters in a home reunion held in Elizabeth's bedroom the day before the wedding ceremony, some of which were more descriptive than others. Kitty was all giggles and blushes. Hence, her description of a wedding night was rather confusing. According to Jane, in her intelligence of Mr Darcy's passionate nature – truly, after experiencing his ardent love making – Elizabeth would have a better time than most women, but further explanation was spared.
On being questioned about size, Mary became visibly disturbed.
"I have never seen my husband's nudity, mind you, for it is understood that a husband does not show his…" she could not finish the statement.
On account of recently acquired enlightening, Jane then, resumed leadership. "That is, some men would rather extinguish the light when they… Though, that may not be the case. You must not concern yourself, men know what they are doing. They are experienced, you know."
That final comment did put considerable load upon Elizabeth's shoulders.
"In any case," resumed Mary, "you must allow him to raise the hem of your nightshirt and he will, hmm, introduce his… hmm. Unfortunately you must be ready to suffer. I cannot say it is not painful."
"Is it?" Elizabeth asked vehemently.
"Aye, dearest. I am afraid the first time it is. There will be a bit of blood. But that is quite expected and natural," said Jane soothingly.
"But you will discover it the following day," added Kitty. "After everything is over your husband goes back to his bedchamber."
"He will only come back the following night." Mary buttered in with a sorrowful sigh.
"But why is it so painful?" asked Elizabeth hesitantly, beginning to feel nervous.
"Painful? Psha! Why should it be? Pay no mind to these missish girls. Mama also told me it would be painful. Indeed it was a bit uncomfortable at first. But once the breach is opened and he begins to come in and out, it becomes delightful!" Lydia's account was accompanied by a rolling of eyes. There upon, and to her sisters' dismay, Lydia began to use descriptive gestures for Elizabeth to picture men's average sizes and the source of such raptures.
"The bigger the better, Lizzy, for your husband will be able to bestow on you such raptures that you would wish him to do it over and over again – if he is skilful enough like… ehem… But unfortunately, a man can only do it once every time, for after he has had his ways, his bulge, which is quite stiff before he takes his pleasure, now becomes fluffy again."
"Lydia!" interrupted Mary. "For God's sake, mind your words!"
"What?! I am saying nothing but the truth!"
The torrent of information was anything but unwelcome. Still so radical were the different accounts that she ended up incapable of discerning which of them was to be taken into serious consideration. After all this confusing tales, Elizabeth resolved herself to trust her own experience.
Indeed, Elizabeth had had a glimpse at Darcy's endowment. He would on several occasions rub himself against her when in amorous rites. His innermost desires had usually aroused hers in turn. Memories of every occasion were vividly fresh in her mind. In London, for example, when he had climbed into her bed, he had not exactly raised the hem of her nightshirt. Rather he had torn it in two and ravenously proceeded to bury his face in her boson whilst his hip would thrust against her womanly portal with such force that she wondered how on earth her maidenhood had been preserved. Most recently in the orangery at Netherfield, he had attempted similar exertions in full daytime. So if anything, she doubted Mr Darcy would act in accordance with what was expected from a respectful husband.
And she was absolutely right. For one, her husband did not visit her. Contrary to expectations, he had sent for her, and after partaking a light supper in the bedchamber, he had taken her to his imposing bed.
Preposterous as it might seem, Mr Darcy's ardour led him to perform the unprecedented act of a man disrobing in front of his wife. Said performance, however, did have a devastating effect on Elizabeth. As he rose in front of her, his eyes, wearing his darkest look, fixed on her enticing figure, daring her to avert hers from him. She began to feel certain wetness between her legs, which was quite fortunate in view of the ordeal she was about to experience. The moment he opened the robe, Elizabeth felt a lump in her throat and involuntarily closed her eyes. However, when she opened them she faced a most arousing spectacle. Her unembarrassed husband was standing in front of the bed, his pride in a most disquieting scene.
Notwithstanding her lover's enticing figure was something her eyes found a delightful sight to behold, yet, she was a bit shocked at the size of his torch of love. Her mother had been alarmingly right. The appendage's size was in proportion to the man's height. And her husband was outstandingly tall, so to speak. How would she ever accommodate such large accessory between her thighs?
She soon found out how. For her husband, after soothing her sensibilities with extreme tenderness, did not wait long to find his way to the object of his interest in her lower part and endeavoured to dive into it in a manner not gentlemanly.
Painful it was. Goodness, nothing she had hitherto experienced had been more painful, not even when she had fallen off Nelly and her bottom was hurt and had to stay in bed lying up-side-down for three days. But Lydia could not have been more right. Once the first pain relented, she achieved an unprecedented level of pleasure. The mere sight of his naked body joined to hers was exceedingly pleasurable in itself.
But the first thrust had been almost unbearable. Much as she endeavoured not to let him become aware of her predicament, the friction that followed inflicted even more physical discomfort. But the aching did diminish with the exertion as Lydia had said. And as her husband became more and more excited, he grew even larger inside of her, which to her surprise did not occasion further pain.
Quite the contrary. Much to her displeasure, however, it was over soon. Too soon one dare say. Her over excited husband, still joined to her, shook lightly, and after letting out a deep moan, he was spent. Rolling
over, he fell exhausted by her side, his heart pounding and his breathing still difficult.
So, that was it. Elizabeth, still unsure whether the whole affair was indeed over, turned round to talk to him. What she saw made her wonder if he was not suffering from some sort of attack. She asked concerned,
"Are you unwell, sir?"
"No, no, I am quite well, Lizzy. I am sorry, my love. Did I hurt you? Did I cause you pain?"
"Sir, do not feel concerned."
"I hate to make you suffer. I am sorry. I noticed you were not enjoying it. It distracted me. I… I meant to bestow pleasure upon you. But then, seeing you were in pain, I decided to make haste. I am sorry. It will be better next time."
"Sir, I was prepared to endure it. My mother, she told me it would be difficult at first."
"It would not have been so had I been able to control myself. I am so sorry, my love. I could not. I found it impossible. I had meant to, yet I could not."
"I am not in pain now, sir." Elizabeth saw genuine concern in his eyes and tried to reassure him.
"You are not?"
"Nay, I shall be quite fit, sir."
He sighed in relief and rose from bed, his naked body at full display again. To her surprise, his most noticeable accomplishment was still in full anger.
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Isn't it too large?" she finally blurted out.
He smiled ruefully knowing perfectly well what she was talking of. "Perhaps. A little."
"What do you mean?" she inquired watching him as he gulped a glass of lemonade.
"Well, I do not mean too large in all its sense," answered he while returning to bed. "Let us say I am well proportioned. However, I am a big man. Everything about me is big. My hands are big, my feet are big…"
"Your estate is big, too." she pointed out seriously.
"Yes," he said laughing "my estate is very, very big, Lizzy."
She let out a cackle and they ended up laughing heartily. He took her in his arms and began to bestow light kisses in her hair, her cheeks, her neck, her chest. He finally became engaged with her bosom and forgot the reason of their merriment. Soon Elizabeth noticed a hard bulge against her thigh.
"Are you positive you are not in pain?" He was nuzzling her bosom. "No,sir. Not any more."
"Then, we can proceed?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Thirty-Seven
—
What Satisfaction Means
Darcy applied a kiss on her lips and almost whispered his pleading, "I feel I shall be needing your endurance a bit more, tonight." He kissed her on the lips again and ever so slyly, placed a hand between her thighs and accommodated himself between them. This time he did it very slowly. Only that in the end, when he could endure no more, he acquired tempo accelerating his rhythmical lovemaking, thrusting hard when he came, a deep moan dying down his throat.
Contrary to all expectations, after a short while he was at it a third time.
And even a fourth.
So much for fluffy appendages…
Just as Lizzy was thinking she would have to beg to be spared a new round of passion he fell mercifully asleep. Which was very fortunate indeed, for she would be loathe to be compelled to deny him what was his right to have. But her nether regions were dreadfully sore and aching after the serial shows of affection. Actually, she had noticed some blood blotches in the pristine sheets. Still, once the first thrust had been accomplished, she had very much enjoyed her husband's lovemaking, so much so that she was ready to "suffer" again should he wish her to.
Yet, she found it exceedingly difficult to fall asleep in her present position. Lizzy endeavoured to extract herself from his embrace and go back to her bedchamber but to no avail. The minute she tried to slip from under his arms, he would pull her even closer still. Did he mean to share his bed with her the rest of the night? Perchance he did. In the end, and after a last unsuccessful attempt to quit his arms (or rather his legs), she fell asleep, too.
At dawn, barely two hours after they had been passionately engaged, Lizzy woke up to find the gorgeous figure of her husband placidly asleep by her side. She tried to rise but she was trapped under his legs, which he had entwined with hers. So she finally accepted her predicament, and raising her head a little, she rested her body on one of her elbows and peeked at his sleeping form.
It was almost daytime and the sun rays through the curtains were threatening to wake Darcy. She looked at his beautiful body. What was it that she found so attractive? He was pale, except for his face and hands. His chest was broad and quite hairy. And the most striking part of his body, which had been the cause of such painful sorrow a few moments before, seemed now almost as innocent as a girls' lace, dangling flaccidly aside. How did he do it? No part of her body could she cause to change so much! And yet, he could, every few moments. That was certainly a most wonderful device. Indeed, she had felt it inside her, moving, growing, shaking as if endowed with a life of its own. She shivered at the memory fully aware there was an irresistible physical attraction that pulled her irremediable to him.
She was thus distracted when she heard a light movement coming from the man lying by her side. She tore her eyes from her husband's pride and rested them on his face. Darcy stirred a little and disentangled his legs, thus freeing hers. Hardly had she had time to stretch them when he turned suddenly around and grabbed her by her waist. She was literally shocked by the surprise of the sudden movement. Not only did she let out a cry but she also fought him fiercely, compelling him to let go of her.
"Come here, Mrs Darcy! Am I such a sight in the morning so as to cause such apprehension?" he said laughing.
"Sir, you frightened me!"
"Did I? Do I? Is it my hair?" he jested in reference to her own.
She inspected him, her eyebrow raised in suspicion. "It is not your looks, sir, what caused my distress, but the sudden manner of your waking. Pray, do you always awake in this manner?"
"I dare say 'tis the first time in my life I have awaken in this manner, I assure you," he said with a naughty tone in his voice while in a very possessive gesture, he encircled her with his pouncing arms, looked at her with hungry eyes and kissed her passionately on the neck while pressing himself to her bottom. His growing bear tickled on the soft skin of her cheeks. "I am famished, my wife. Would you not feed me, Mrs Darcy?" To Lizzy's dismay she noticed he was not thinking of breakfast.
"Sir, can you do it again?"
"Can I not?" he said in a low, deep sensual voice, while he continued applying feather kisses on her neck and tenderly caressing her curves, every so often brushing her breast with his fingers.
"Of course, I have no objections. 'Tis only I am a little puzzled. Pray tell me. Are all men of your constitution? I seem to have fallen into major misconstruction."
Astonished by her question, he interrupted his lovemaking to look at her in the eye. "I beg your pardon?"
"My mother and my sisters, they had a talk with me before the wedding night, about connubial practices, and I was told that a husband… that you shall not…" She look at his very much excited ornament, raised as a flag pointing at her.
"Yes?"
"Oh, never mind. You obviously can. I must conclude that not everyone is the same."
It was very clear to Darcy that Lizzy's approach to the issue had been fundamentally misguided. Still, her gross misinterpretation of a man's endurance was very difficult to pass unnoticed. He endeavoured to muffle his mirth, biting his lips, but his eyes brimmed with merriment.
"I see. I can confidently tell you that you have arrived at the right conclusion. Not everyone is the same. Tell me. What have you been informed about this topic? Perchance you could help me to clarify some things, for my understanding is mainly theoretical."
Thinking he was speaking in earnest, Elizabeth cleared her throat and poised a scholar posture "Well. 'Tis a bit embarrassing. For one you can endure more than I was told. Mama said that my husband would wish to lie with me only once each night until I�
�� Until I get with child. And my sisters… Well, they said that a man could not do it more than once. Yet you… recover so quickly."
"I did not know there were such standards among women." Darcy replied in awe excessively diverted by such understanding. "Neither did I know I could do it as many times as we have. I am as inexperienced as you are, my love. I merely feel very much attracted to you. I believe I could be like so all day long. In any case, this is all your doing."
Her eyes widened in an expression of clear amazement. "Indeed!"
"Does this distress you?"
"No, not at all. I am merely surprised. Nothing I was told turned out to be like that!"
"What else has not come out as expected, may I ask?"
She seemed to shrink a little and blushed deeply.
"What? What is it? Have I offended you in any way?"
"No, sir. 'Tis I was not aware that you would wish to show me… that we both should be naked, and in the daytime."
"Do you feel uncomfortable?"
"I must confess I am."
"Lizzy, we are husband and wife, now. This is perfectly normal. Let me show you something." He rose from bed and went to the chest of drawers. From one of the drawers he retrieved a much torn book. 'Twas the Holy Scriptures.
"Have you ever read this?"
Lizzy shook her head.
"This is very special for me. It was my great grand father's. It is my favourite reading material." He said fondly. "Here. I shall show you."
He opened the book on one of the first pages, and read aloud to her. It was the story of Adam, when he first met his wife, and the happiness he felt when he finally saw that he no longer would be alone. "This is my flesh and my bone," he quoted while he embraced her fiercely. "So, from now on Lizzy, now that you have been thus taken, you and I shall be one. Just as the first man and the first woman. One soul. We should not be embarrassed to see ourselves thus."
Love Calls Again Page 51