Beloved

by Suz

December 2002, Firthness Challenge - Winning Story

Rated R - NC-17 - Mature audiences only. Login required.


“Excuse me, Mr Darcy,” said Elizabeth, attempting to smile while discreetly dragging her husband away from some guests to the relative privacy of the library, which for once was unpopulated. “Whilst I am much pleased to see the improvements you are making in conversing with strangers, I would very much prefer it if we could take our leave – sooner rather than later?”

“But Lizzy, the wedding breakfast is not quite finished. We have not yet partaken of dessert.” Will, smiling, moved closer to Lizzy, wrapping his arms around her.

“Surely we have partaken of sufficient food at this point – perhaps we should leave dessert for later?”

Will’s eyes opened wide. Was his wife flirting with him? He quickly glanced at Lizzy, who was looking away from him, and almost missed what he could have sworn was a mischievous smile. Lizzy reached up to kiss her new husband innocently, before whispering to him quietly, “Are you still hungry, Sir?”

If some of the guests were a little surprised at the alacrity with which the coach was ordered and the bride and groom departed, they put it down to the distance to be travelled before nightfall.

After the unusually balmy late autumn warmth of the past weeks, the weather had turned distinctly cool, a sign of the oncoming winter. For this reason, Will had elected to use the closed coach. Even so, he and Lizzy were rugged up under blankets to ward off the penetrating chill. Lizzy became so cozy in fact, that she felt her eyelids becoming decidedly heavy, and fight as she might, sleep eventually overcame her and she began to nod uncomfortably in her seat. Slowly, so as not to wake her, Will eased her head down onto his lap, cushioning her from the rocking and lurching of the coach. Stroking her hair away from her face, he reflected on the deep love he felt for the woman now comfortably ensconced on his lap. Vaguely aware that this was the first time he had seen his wife asleep, it struck him how very young she looked without the sassy, impertinent expression she so often wore when awake. He smiled as he drank in every precious feature – the long lashes, the pert nose, the attractive blush on her cheeks, the full, ruby lips. As he contemplated those lips, he recalled the kiss in the library. He absentmindedly licked his lips and realised he could still taste her there. Thoughts of ‘dessert’ caused him to groan slightly and he attempted to ease the growing fullness in his breeches, squirming slightly in his seat. Damn! he thought. Can't this coach go any faster! Sighing to himself, he tried to settle more comfortably, attempting to think of something, anything – but dessert. The coach rumbled on into the late afternoon, the rocking eventually caused even Darcy to nod off into an uneasy slumber. Sometime later, the momentum of the coach eased, and Darcy roused, amused to find his arm still firmly grasping Elizabeth – even in sleep he could not let her go.

With the slowing of the coach, Lizzy’s eyes opened and she sat up – momentarily, but sweetly surprised, to find her head on her husbands lap. Still feeling a little sleepy and disoriented, she rubbed her eyes and peeked out the window of the coach for her first view of the London townhouse. Instead she viewed a quaint little cottage, complete with thatched roof and rough stonework, peeking out from amidst abundant and verdant greenery. Dusk was falling, but the cottage was glowing merrily in the half-light. Smoke curled lazily up from the chimney and floated off in the gentle breeze.

“Will? I thought we were traveling to London tonight … where are we?”

“London is for tomorrow, my darling Lizzy. Tonight is for us, alone.”

“But where are we? This isn’t a carriage stop – it looks like somebody’s home.”

“It is, Lizzy – our home, our private little hideaway.”

Lizzy looked quizzically at Will, encouraging him to continue.

“Actually my father bought it for himself and my mother as a home to rest in on their frequent trips to London. The couple that look after the place, Mr and Mrs Samuels, told me that my parents used to stay here for a week at a time on occasion – time alone for just the two of them. I had no knowledge of this until after my father died. It was one of the many properties we own which were in his Will, you see. Mrs Samuels apprised me of the details. Apparently my parents, for all the years of their marriage, lightheartedly referred to it as their ‘honeymoon’ cottage. I’d like to think we could continue that tradition, Lizzy.”

As he handed her down from the carriage, she squeezed his hand and reached up to lightly kiss his cheek – a silent acceptance, her meaning implicit.

The cottage, though very modest by Pemberley standards, was nonetheless quite roomy, and opened from the small foyer into a cosy parlour. Contrary to the rough exterior, the interior of the cottage had obviously been remodeled and refurbished to reflect a refined, relaxed ambiance with soft, dusky velvets and plush, deep pile rugs of an oriental design. As Lizzy entered the room, she gasped at the sight that greeted her. Everywhere, on every cupboard, table, above the fireplace – were candles, blinking and glowing. Like a thousand little fireflies, they lit up the room with a twinkling glow. Lizzy turned to her husband. He glanced back at her sheepishly.

“I hope you like it. I want this to be a night we will never forget.”

“I am quite sure we will remember this day for the rest of our lives, my love, with the sweetest of memories.”

He hugged his wife tightly to him and then taking her arm in his, began an unhurried tour of the cottage. Whilst from without it had appeared quite small, it was, in fact, deceptively spacious – a warm, inviting lounge room, comfortably furnished with velvet covered wingbacks and plush settees situated in front of a blazing fire; a small, intimate dining room and four very roomy bedrooms. It was this area of the house that stunned Lizzy the most. The main bedroom, obviously the subject of her husband's particular instructions, was not only lit by a multitude of candles but also bedecked with flowers – fragrant, colourful and abundant, and apart from a huge bed which dominated the center of the room, Lizzy spied a delightful sitting area in front of a comforting fire. One thing puzzled her, however, and she turned to her husband a little perplexed.

“It is somewhat usual for a sitting area to have chairs, is it not, Will – hence the name?”

For neither a chair nor settee was to be seen. In their place were a soft rug and many cushions, scattered with apparent abandon.

“Trust me, Lizzy. I believe you will find the furnishings very much to your liking.”

“Truly?” Lizzy enquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Definitely,” stated Will confidently. And with more pleasant thoughts in mind, Will endeavoured to forestall any further enquiries on the furnishings and attempted to turn Lizzy’s mind to other things.

“Perhaps you would like to freshen up after our journey, my love. I asked Mrs Samuels to have a bath drawn for you, and then I have a surprise for you upon your return.”

"Truly, Mr Darcy? A surprise?" she answered somewhat cheekily, he thought.

"Lizzy! Perhaps I should have said gift … now quickly before your bath goes cold. Oh, and one more thing. My apologies, my darling Lizzy – unfortunately there is no maid to attend you. I shall be waiting here in case you have need of my assistance." Two could play that game, he thought.

Lizzy sighed contentedly at the thought of sinking into a warm, relaxing bath. In her dressing room she found a huge bathtub, full nearly to the brim, steam rising from the water and a proliferation of bubbles threatening to cascade over the sides. Her toiletries and gown were laid out for her, apparently by Mrs Samuels, as she had seen no other person in the house save her husband. Luxuriating in the warmth of the huge bath, Lizzy noted that even in here the room was lit with candles, and a softly blazing fire suffused the room with a hazy glow. Tilting her head back against the top of the tub, she allowed her mind to wander, until her thoughts pleasantly settled on her husband. Lizzy knew that he was a passionate man beneath that cool exterior. What surprised her though, was the romantic side that she had hitherto been unaware of. She knew that the candles and flowers were his idea, but what touched her deeply was his desire to begin their married life here, in this beautiful home, which had obviously held much happy significance for his parents.

Darcy, now dressed only in shirt and breeches, sat on the thick, soft rug and leaned back against the cushions, gazing into the fire, wrapped in thought – and all his thoughts centered on the woman in the next room. His wife. The woman he loved more than life itself. And fully love her he would, starting tonight. Unlike most men of his age, Will’s intimate experiences with women were limited, and this had concerned him. He wanted, no – needed, to do everything in his power to guarantee Lizzy’s pleasure, and had often wondered in the nights leading up to this one, whether his experience would be adequate. However Lizzy stirred feelings in him that made him want to explore areas of her that he never had with other women. He loved the look of her, the smell of her, the taste of her – the familiar throbbing began anew. He threw his head back in frustration and closed his eyes, attempting to regain his familiar control. He was concerned. He wanted this night to be perfect, and yet just thinking of Lizzy was enough to drive his body to its limits. His head popped up as he heard the door open. He turned to look, and his breath caught. He attempted to swallow past the lump in his suddenly dry throat; unable to speak the words he longed to say. Like a vision from one of his dreams, Lizzy stood in the doorway, haloed in the candlelight. Her long, chestnut curls tumbled over her shoulders and back, starkly contrasted against the white silk of her gown. She stood, stilled by the look in his eyes. What was it? Hunger … passion … need … love? As Lizzy slowly moved towards the fire, the silk swished and slinked against her skin. Every curve, crevasse and peak was accentuated. She smiled at her husband and leaned down to run her hand over his cheek and lightly down his neck.

“I believe you promised me dessert, Will?” she whispered into his ear.

Will swallowed hard. His dreams had never done justice to this reality. Wordlessly, he captured Lizzy’s hand and gently eased her down beside him on the rug. Reaching beside him, he picked up two fluted glasses of fine Austrian crystal filled with a pale amber liquid, the tiny bubbles within rising to the surface. Lizzy sipped the sparkling champagne, wrinkling her nose as the bubbles tickled her. Darcy looked on in wonder at the paradox that was his wife – the sultry seductress in white satin wrinkling her nose with child-like wonder at the tickle of the champagne. He sighed as he sipped and a feeling of contentment, long forgotten, washed over him.

He stroked her cheek softly. "You have never looked more beautiful to me than you do at this moment, Lizzy. I could quite easily stay here like this with you forever."

Reaching under a cushion, he said, “Close your eyes, my love, and don’t open them until I tell you.”

He brought out a red velvet box and opened it slowly. Inside was a necklace on a chain of the finest gold links. Lifting it from its satin pillow, he placed it around Lizzy’s neck as she moved her hair aside, clasping it at the back. Will looked at the picture his wife presented – eyes closed and arm raised to hold her chestnut curls up, nipples peaking through the satin of her gown, and the necklace settled just short of the deep cleavage of her full breasts. His eyes hungrily devoured the sight of her.

His voice croaked slightly. “You may open your eyes now, Lizzy.”

Lizzy looked down at the necklace and smiled at her husband. Two delicate, filigreed, gold hearts were entwined, and a precious stone was set in the middle of each. One was diamond, and the other, ruby.

“The hearts represent you and I, my love, eternally linked. The diamond symbolizes my promise of faithfulness, steadfastness and honour. The ruby – signifies deep, pure love and passion. This is my gift to you, my darling. Forever.

Touched by his words, Lizzy reached for him. "I believe there was something I left unfinished today in the library, Will." And she leaned in to her husband, kissing him softly, tentatively – slowly opening her lips to his, tasting and teasing him with her tongue.

Will, his arms rigid at his sides, groaned and pleaded huskily against her mouth, "Please Lizzy, don't tease me." His dark eyes held a need akin to a kind of pain. That look triggered something in Lizzy, and they came together, mouths meeting in a dance as old as time. Grasping her to him, Will grazed his mouth over her lips and neck, sighing into her hair and inhaling her sweet, intoxicating scent. The touch of fingers snaking inside his shirt to wind around his neck sent shivers of pleasure shooting through his body.

A log crackled and fell heavily in the hearth. They breathlessly pulled apart, each stunned at the suddenness of the response. Oh my god, Lizzy! Do you have any idea what you do to me? thought Will. Feebly attempting to regain some control, he cuddled Lizzy to him and they each took a moment, gazing into the fire, allowing racing pulses to quiet. For Lizzy, any unease a new bride should have felt was replaced with a feeling of absolute trust in her husband. As she had handed her heart to him this day, so too would she give her body. She remembered the innocent longing she had felt for this night over the last months, and now that the moment was here, she felt almost light-headed with relief. She surrendered to her husband, determined to follow his lead wherever it would take them.

Will, though, had trouble believing the vision in his arms was real. With trembling hands, his fingers slipped over the satin of her gown. The silky feel of the satin against the warmth of her skin was erotic and arousing – part of him longed to rip the gown off to reveal the treasures beneath. Instead of acting on this impulse, he curbed his raging desires and treasured the richness of this moment. Burying his head in her abundance of curls, he inhaled the scent of her – a fragrance of which he would never have enough.

Placing numerous feather light kisses along the silky soft skin of Lizzy’s cheeks and brow, Will teased, tasted and tempted her until he once again reached her luscious lips. With her head back and eyes closed, the invitation she presented was unmistakable. He watched, mesmerized, as a wet, pink tongue peeked out to moisten her lips, causing a jolt of desire to course the entire length of his body. As he leaned forward to kiss her softly, her eyes half-opened lazily, and the look Will saw there rendered him mute. Need and a passionate hunger stared back at him, and what should have been a tender touch, a tentative sharing for each – flared into a blaze. The tenuous tether that had been restraining their emotions through the weeks preceding their nuptials snapped. Control was finally abandoned and Lizzy’s arms snaked around Will’s neck pulling him to her. Not stopping to question, but glorying in the wantonness of her response, Will’s hands roamed freely over her silky body, sliding sensuously over the satin gown she wore. As his hand grazed her breast, Lizzy quivered in response. Since that day in the park at Rosings, she had hungered for and dreamt of his touch. Teasing her nipple through the satin, he cupped and fondled her breasts as Lizzy moaned and arched in response, offering her body to his sensual touch. Breaking their kiss, he slowly eased the satin away from her breasts, revealing two perfect orbs with tight rosy nipples. He dipped his head to better savor the feast before his eyes, much more satisfying than any food. Capturing each tight bud, he suckled gently, his tongue tracing a trail of fire and ice over her skin. Leaning into his touch, she shivered with delight, her breath quickening. Will slowly undid the loosely tied belt and opened her gown, reveling in her nakedness. In the flickering firelight, her skin seemed alive, glowing and pulsing in time with the thudding beat of his heart.

“Do I please you, my husband?” she whispered huskily.

Pausing a moment to drink in the splendour before him, his eyes communicated the words his lips spoke. “You, my darling, are more perfect than I ever imagined.”

Laying Lizzy back against the cushions, he licked, kissed and nibbled from her breasts to her toes, tracing his tongue and lips over every inch of her. She felt a warmth and a wetness gathering in her core and tightly closed her eyes, lost in the ripples of pleasure coursing through her body. Her eyes snapped open as she felt Will move away from her to stand up, taking his warmth with him.

With his eyes fixed on Lizzy, Will slowly pulled his shirt from his breeches and raised it over his head, tossing it over a nearby chair. The muscles on his chest and arms rippled in the firelight. Lizzy's lips slowly parted as one by one, he undid the buttons on his breeches. Their tightness released, they dropped to the floor, and he absently kicked them to the side. The sight of her husband, standing before her, his desire evident, quickened Lizzy's breath. He was truly magnificent.

She licked lips which had suddenly gone dry. Kneeling over her, he feathered his fingers over her body … arms, breasts, stomach, legs. He bent to lave her breasts again while his fingers danced up her inner thigh. She moaned as she felt a finger gently stroke the area of her pleasure and Will marvelled at the wetness he found there. Lizzy was lost to the sensations coursing through her body. Recognising her muted cries of pleasure as those akin to what he was feeling, Will gritted his teeth, feeling his control slipping. He was hard - so hard, it almost hurt. Whilst he still retained a modicum of control, he breathed deeply and, settling himself between her thighs, gently began to ease his considerable length into her moist folds, grunting softly as her tightness closed around him, resisting the urge to thrust deeply and bury himself in her hot depths. Lizzy gasped at the welcome invasion, as she sought release from the incredible tension that had claimed her body.

Every nerve ending in her body was electrified. Will moved slowly within her until he felt the barrier of her innocence. Leaning down, he whispered to her, "This will hurt, but only for a moment, my love." Kissing her passionately, he thrust through the barrier and buried himself fully within her. A small cry escaped from Lizzy at the brief, sharp pain, but seconds later, she felt a fullness, a completeness, within her. Fully sheathed in her molten depths and moving gently, Will slowly stroked in and out, and as Lizzy instinctively moved to meet him, they thrust and moved together, synchronised and in complete harmony with each other. With each stroke, Lizzy felt the pleasure within building. Starting as a small tremor, it travelled through her body, gathering momentum and intensity as it went. Feeling the build-up of Lizzy's excitement, Will, panting, lent down and took a hard nipple in his mouth. Tremors started to shudder through Lizzy, escalating her pleasure to a higher plane than she would ever have believed possible.

"Wiiill? Oh Wiiill!" she cried out as her muscles tightened and contracted around his shaft, her climax shuddering through her body.

The sound of Lizzy crying out his name and the feel of her tightening around him were too much for Will. His control in tatters, he felt the rumblings of his orgasm building to a shattering peak. Crying out her name, and with a final shuddering thrust, he spilled his release, filling Lizzy with his love.

Arms shaking from the exertion, Will lowered himself lightly onto Lizzy. Both physically and emotionally spent, they lay there – breathless and panting, stunned at the intensity of the experience.

"Will?" Lizzy asked softly. He lifted his head and looked deeply into her eyes, shining now as tears of joy traced damp paths down her cheeks. "I could never love you more than I do at this moment," she said softly.

The two lovers lay entwined in front of the hearth, a quilt dragged from the bed covering their exhausted, sated bodies, contentedly sleeping at last.

Many hours later, Lizzy awoke to the feeling of fingers running through her hair.

“I didn’t wish to wake you my dearest Elizabeth, but I needed to see your beautiful eyes once again. It is through the expression in them, that I am reminded that I am truly loved. Can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Will,” she smiled up at him. “But perhaps I can show you in other ways that you are truly my beloved.”

And she reached for him once again.

Copyright held by Suz - 2002