mother birthed three children and was as tiny as when a maiden. You have seen the portraits. Aunt Madeline is comely and she has birthed four. I imagine there are alterations. Subtle changes a husband would notice such as those stretches Uncle George spoke of. In the end, these marks are a part of aging and a God-given reminder of human travails and, in the case of childbirth, the miracles of motherhood and life.” He smiled into his wife's eyes and kissed her softly.
“All that being said,” he continued, “my love and desire for you is not based on the appearance of your body. That is not to say I do not adore your shape, your perfect breasts and lush bottom, and all points head to toe. However, it is your heart I love, my wife. Whatever the flesh encasing the soul, it is you I yearn for and need to survive. This will never diminish.”
He kissed her deeply, hand stroking down her side and pulling one leg over his waist. Breathlessly, lips near her ear, he resumed, “When I become aroused by you, my precious love, I am not thinking of your flesh, but of you. Who you are, how you love me and touch my soul. How your gorgeous eyes caress me and gaze with love upon me. How I am fulfilled by your presence in my life. How you have gifted me with your devotion and promises and commitment.”
He withdrew, fingering over her parted lips. “Elizabeth, my eternal love. Your body is rapturous to me not because it is perfection, but because it is yours. I fell in love with you ere I began imagining what figure hid under your clothing. Your luscious shape has exceeded my imaginings, but I know my love and passion for you would be as strong if you had eleven toes or a big birthmark or hairs on your chest or…”
Lizzy chuckled softly, halting him with a kiss. “Fitzwilliam,” she purred, delving deeply into his blue eyes that shone with pure love, “I love you.”
He smiled. “There is to what I refer. No one on this earth says my name so that I melt as heated wax while becoming hard as iron simultaneously. Only you, my Lizzy, now and forever.” He claimed her mouth with fervid passion yet caressed gently, robe opened as he joined with his wife in blissful harmony.
Lizzy sighed in happiness, his adoring professions coupled with the feel of him loving her bathing her in joy and reassurance. He moved slowly, caressing—always caressing—as he kissed her. Lizzy pulled the robe off his shoulder, gliding a hand over his back and hugging him closer. Traveling lips along his jaw to ear and shifting to encompass his body with all her limbs, Darcy moaned faintly as Lizzy whispered, “Fitzwilliam, how do you know precisely what to say to fill my heart and restore my confidence?”
He lifted his upper body so he could see her face, halting all movement momentarily, fingers fondling each feature and kissing tenderly. “I only speak the truth in my heart, Elizabeth. You have no reason to suffer negative emotions regarding my love for you and undying devotion, but I shall offer comfort and assurance every waking second if necessary.” He resumed his steady rhythm with a breathy growl. “Additionally, I shall make love to you endlessly and adoringly. My wife, my own love. So beautiful you are to me. Elizabeth,” he finished in a reverent whisper.
Grasping his face with a sudden burst of passionate enthusiasm, Lizzy pressed into his mouth, Darcy responding immediately. Never relenting in her kiss, Lizzy next attacked his robe, struggling to free his arms to her touch. Darcy attempted to assist yet refused to cease kissing or moving, the conjoint endeavor on the narrow sofa humorously spiraling.
They both began to giggle, the robe catching on his elbows so that when he tried to rise he began to sway off the couch. Desperately seeking a grip on something to correct his precarious perch and imbalance, he clutched the only thing at hand: her thigh. As a result, they both tumbled onto the floor in a heap, laughing hysterically.
His laughter, combined with the breath being knocked from his lungs as a result of hitting the hardwood floor and Lizzy's legs squashing his chest, had Darcy gasping. Laughing, Lizzy strived to right herself, silken robe and gown tangled about her legs.
At length she knelt beside her teary-eyed, wheezing spouse. “William? Are you all right? Oh my goodness, you look so ridiculous!” She dissolved in further giggles, bending to kiss his cheeks and reaching to disencumber him. His arms were trapped at odd angles under his body, robe askew and bunched bizarrely about his nakedness. She sat him up; his robe finally slipped from arms that he instantly threw about her waist with hands flattened on her back, pressing in for a thorough kiss. Still snickering, she captured his lower lip between her teeth and fondled his groin.
Darcy groaned, hands sliding to her bottom but Lizzy jumped up and stepped back. The puzzled pout crossing his features escalated her humor. “Elizabeth?” She shushed him, flouncing as she removed her robe with a twirl, trailing the ends over his face before releasing the silk to fall as a cloud onto his head.
“Come, lover. Catch me if you can.” The gown followed the robe in a pile on his head, Darcy sweeping blindly for her legs but she was gone. Moments later, entering the modest bedchamber Darcy found his lovely bride stretched languidly and deliciously in the middle of the bed. “What took you so long?” she teased, opening her arms with hands reaching.
Smiling broadly with indescribable happiness, he joined her, body pressing beautifully over hers with mutual heat seeping through every pore. Not uttering a word, he kissed her consumingly as his hands stroked through her tousled hair. Lizzy clutched him tight, legs over legs and arms about chest, rubbing and fondling flaming skin in ecstasy.
Darcy kissed softly over her face, ending on her nose. Meeting her blazing eyes with a smile, still smoothing through her hair and brushing thumbs over her cheeks, he said, “I love you, Mrs. Darcy. I love how you make me feel like a giddy child and a virile man at the same time.” He nibbled her ruddy lips. “I love how you tease me and cherish me. You are my breath and life, Elizabeth, best beloved.” Another deep kiss was followed by a trailing firestorm of sweet kisses and suckles down her neck to shoulders.
Winding his way downward, Darcy aroused his wife to insane heights. Lizzy still, after nearly nine months of marriage, could not understand how his hands and lips were everywhere at once. Every inch of her skin was scorched and begging for more of his masterful, provocative touch. Each nerve throbbed, every cell ached in yearning, and all her muscles trembled. Blood rushed with the pounding of her passion infused heart. Lungs cried for air. It was divine agony and she beseeched him to persist, her very existence dependant on his touch.
Ardor raged. Lizzy was incoherent with desire. Darcy loved his wife, kissing and caressing, the giving of pleasure transcendent until she arched and shouted his name in glory. Tremors wracked her as he bestowed brushing kisses over her thighs and abdomen. Ceaseless delicate kisses imparted as he worked his way back up to her bosom, eventually rolling to his side with Lizzy in his firm embrace. “William,” she murmured faintly, “I love you.”
He lifted himself, gazing with bottomless depths of love, smiling as he pulled her shivering body against his chest. “Elizabeth, you have no idea how I enjoy pleasuring you.”
They embraced in silence for a time, Lizzy's wits gradually returning to normal. Well aware that he remained aroused and unfulfilled, Lizzy commenced the succulent exploration of his body. She kissed the hollow of his throat, pulse warm and strong. Hands traveled over his chest and belly to all other masculine parts, Darcy groaning from the sensation. As lazily and competently as he had rocketed her passion, she did the same.
It was a magical night of interminable lovemaking. They had found on occasion that their mutual desire was insatiable, both seemingly inexhaustible in their need for each other. Tonight was such a night. Not two hours of deep sleep later, it was Lizzy who first roused her husband with caresses and kisses.
Darcy's response was instant, even if he remained more asleep than awake when she loved him. Several hours of limb-entangled slumber passed before they sleepily reached for each other, Darcy moving onto his welcoming wife.
“Lizzy, my beautiful Lizzy.” He murmured gravelly, holding tightly while nuzzling her neck. Lizzy wrapped about him, relaxing pliantly under his crushing weight as he moved so beautifully. It was a prolonged flowing interlude, lapping and waving bliss warming and intensely satisfying. Darcy collapsed with a throaty groan, pulling her to his chest as he rolled to the side. Promptly, they returned to refreshing slumber.
Many hours later, sunlight streaming through the parted curtains, Lizzy roused to discover her husband lying beside her and staring. She smiled groggily, reaching to caress his neck. “I still deem it horribly unfair,” she whispered.
“What is unfair?”
“How you can actually be more handsome with mussed hair and unshaven face. Even your grating voice is sexy and irresistible. Horribly unfair as I, thanks to you my lover, look a fright.”
Darcy smiled, elegant fingers tracing circles on her breasts. “Thank you for the compliment. However, you are
