A/N:

Hi everyone! First of all, I apologize for the neglect, real life has been a whirlwind recently, but I'm glad that these past few days have been able to give me some time to visit with our favorite couple.

Thank you for the reviews, the suggestions, the follows, and the favorites, they all mean very much to my aspiring writer's heart!

So welcome back Darcy and Elizabeth as they explore more of their shared passions, heating their winter surroundings and (hopefully) warming your hearts.


The Copper Key

Elizabeth, lately Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, Mistress of Pemberley, wandered the halls of the great house alone.

After breakfast, her besotted husband had very reluctantly left her to attend to the most urgent of estate matters which had been waiting for the past fortnight.

"I shall miss you, Lizzy." The kiss he placed on her lips lingered with his words.

"Then the sooner you leave, the sooner you shall return, William." She touched his cheek. "Now go, and make haste before I am reduced to clinging to your legs!" She laughed.

Darcy chuckled, but his hands tarried in hers. He lifted them to his lips and with an indrawn breath, left her, not daring to look back lest he relent to his feelings and carry Elizabeth back to their chambers.

Politely refusing to be accompanied by Mrs. Reynolds or her maid, this was the first time Elizabeth ventured forth on her own. She considered it more of a challenge to herself, and had decided to no longer be daunted by the size and stateliness of her new home.

Since her arrival at Pemberley, Elizabeth had never been separated for longer than half an hour from Darcy, and those only for her toilette. Now as she walked the halls alone, she could not help but pine for him. Three hours, her husband had said, he would be with his steward for three hours, but it felt as if a day had already passed without him. Elizabeth sighed, how truly pathetic she was, she wanted to lift her skirts and run in search of him! What a fool I am! She thought laughingly shaking her head.

She was still not very confident in navigating Pemberley in its entirety, but her destination was one she knew by heart. As was her wont, Elizabeth headed to the library.

The smell of books welcomed her to her second favorite room, their private chambers being, of course, the first. Elizabeth ventured in and was once again overwhelmed by the collection that Pemberley's library held. From the newest works to books dated centuries ago, Elizabeth found there. The variety was impressive, ancient political philosophy, botany, poetry, mineralogy, and so much more. She would never want for reading material in her lifetime. Here, she once again felt very proud of her husband's contribution.

More than an hour passed as she perused shelves and went through books. She had just started to settle down with her choice of reading material when Elizabeth paused, suddenly remembering the object in her pocket.

The previous evening, Darcy had apologetically informed her of the need to see to some work. Elizabeth had replied with understanding, she would stay in the library while she waited for him she had said. Her husband smiled, appreciating her consideration of his duties. Then from a drawer, he had procured a copper key and had given it to her. It was the key to his private collection of books.

"The collection is in the study, housed in the locked bookcase behind my desk." He had informed Elizabeth with a smile. "I am sure, my love, that you shall find more than one work there to interest you."

Recalling Darcy's words, Elizabeth looked towards the study which adjoined the library. Key in hand, she headed to the door that separated the two rooms.

The study reflected Darcy, masculine yet warm, stately yet comfortable. There was another door which led directly to the hall. The windows with their drapes opened, faced east and framed a view of wintery woods, beyond was the rolling terrain of Derbyshire, gleaming white under the winter sunshine. The room was very well situated, she could imagine her husband working comfortably here.

Elizabeth went to Darcy's desk, a fire burned in the fireplace beside it. She ran her hand along the polished surface of his desk. Writing implements lay meticulously arranged in one corner, a likeness of her and of Georgiana sat on the desk as well. She smiled, remembering her reaction upon seeing a likeness of herself which she had not posed for. His answering account of having it rendered only from his memory served to humble and warm her heart indeed.

Elizabeth reached the bookcase behind the desk and peered through the locked glass casing. Taking the key from her pocket, she opened it and scanned her husband's collection. Works of Plato, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Goethe, books with Latin and French titles, among many others, lined the shelves. Elizabeth was enthralled. After a while, she was about to pull out A Song of Innocence and of Experience by William Blake, an author of whom Elizabeth had never heard, when in the corner of her eye she noticed one book near the very top. Its spine indicated no title. Her curiosity winning her over, Elizabeth pulled it out. The cover was blank as well. Intrigued, she opened it. What she saw made her eyes widen. Lewd drawings of a man and a woman coupling in a seemingly physically challenging position turned her cheeks red.

She closed the book with a snap and looked about her in a guilty manner. What was this? Why did her husband have this? Elizabeth was incredulous, but because she had, first and foremost, a very inquisitive mind, she braved imaginary censure and leafed through the book. Pages upon pages of sexually explicit illustrations greeted her. Some sketches had supporting text while others were so graphic that they needed no further explanation.

Elizabeth grew hot, her hands trembled. Unconsciously, her mind envisioned herself and Darcy in the positions she found most fascinating. Idly tracing the top of the book, her finger snagged on a piece of string. It marked a page, Elizabeth flipped to it. There, in great detail, was a drawing of a woman bent over a desk, with her skirts raised and gathered around her waist, they revealed everything. The man, naked but for the garments that pooled around his feet, joined her from behind. Their faces contorted in pleasure.

Feeling overheated, Elizabeth took off her shawl. She touched her neck and slid her hand down her chest. Did her husband mark this? Elizabeth knew the answer to that. Her breathing became fast, her chest strained against its confines.

"Elizabeth."


Darcy found the library empty. He had done his work quickly and efficiently, intending to finish earlier than planned, then had rushed to be with his bride again.

Noticing the open door to the study, Darcy proceeded there. He walked quietly inside, and saw Elizabeth facing the bookcase, her back turned to him. She was absorbed in a book. Noting the location of the gap in the bookcase, he knew which book captivated his wife's attention, of course Elizabeth would find it! His smile was wicked as he watched her hand touch her neck, her movement fluid and sensual. He wanted to run his tongue along that beautiful neck, he wanted to slide his hands under her skirts and up her smooth, shapely legs until he found her center. She was everything that made his blood heat.

Darcy's desire was greatly stirred as visions of Elizabeth and himself, so erotic, raced across his mind. Silently, he locked both doors then walked to her.

"Elizabeth."

She jumped, dropping the book in her surprise. It fell with a thud on the floor.

"Fitzwilliam!" With a heated face, Elizabeth turned to her husband in mortification.

Darcy picked up the book, straightened, and addressed Elizabeth.

"Your reading material, madam."

He held out the book to his wife whose blush seemed somehow to bloom brighter. Elizabeth could not speak, she stared at Darcy's outstretched hand. Did he know?
Her eyes moved to his face to determine his reaction, Darcy gave her a charming smile.

There he was, the object of her salacious thoughts, looking so handsome, so earthy, so commanding. She wanted to do wicked things to him.

"Thank you, I—I was just returning it."

Elizabeth took the book from him and was in the act of putting it back when Darcy captured her wrist. Turning her around, he took the book, and with his body, not so gently pinned her against the open bookcase. Elizabeth's gasp sent a thrill through Darcy's body. He could feel his arousal growing rapidly, he pressed his hips firmly against hers, making certain that his wife felt it too.

"Did you enjoy your book, my love?"

He opened it, and Elizabeth with wide eyes, looked at the images he revealed.

"Which page did you find most pleasing, wife?" Darcy teased. He kissed her neck, blowing a hot breath in her ear, Elizabeth shivered. She bit her lip, her skin tingled. She desperately wanted to touch him.

"Fitzwilliam." Her voice was husky.

Following her desires, Elizabeth ran her hands roughly up his chest. Grabbing the lapels of his coat, she jerked it off his shoulders and arms, earning a sound of surprise from her husband. The book fell from Darcy's grasp, this time it would remain on the floor for a while, quite forgotten by the room's inhabitants.

Darcy was wildly aroused, he had never seen Elizabeth so aggressive. Excitement rushed through him, with trembling hands, he helped her untie his neckcloth. A grunt escaped Darcy as Elizabeth tore at his waistcoat, then at his shirt. Her hands sought his heated skin. His head fell back as Elizabeth's hot mouth moved on his chest, biting, licking and kissing its broad expanse. Her hands roamed the muscles on his back, nails scraping. Darcy was losing control, the passion that Elizabeth invoked in him was so powerful that he felt he must take the reigns or he would come to his release before they had even joined.

Darcy grabbed her wrists, and with one hand, he locked them above her head. His other hand slipped to her lower back and pressed her closer to him. Ignoring Elizabeth's protests, he kissed her slowly, mouth hovering above hers, breaths mingling. He could feel his wife's frustration at his slower pace. Darcy looked into Elizabeth's eyes, and saw her need for him reflected there, in those eyes that called to him, his ever constant siren.

"Kiss me." Elizabeth bit his bottom lip, she stood on tiptoes and crushed her mouth to his. Finally, Darcy responded with unrepressed passion. He kissed her with lips, tongue, and teeth, moaning his delight in his wife's mouth. His hand left her back and roughly pulled at her skirts. With urgent movements, he grazed her thighs and found her center. She was hot for him.

"Elizabeth, you are soaking."

He bit her earlobe, ran his mouth over the sensitive skin behind her ear as Darcy explored her aroused core. His hand and fingers worked on her until Elizabeth's moans became pants of hunger, primal and urgent.

"Release my hands, William!" Elizabeth almost cried. When he did, she quickly found her way to the flap on his trousers. Once she freed him, her hands closed around his manhood. So enthralled was she at his readiness.

"I want you to touch yourself." She whispered in his ear. Elizabeth pushed Darcy back, eyes bright with desire.

Darcy's heart pounded at Elizabeth's demand, he took his manhood in one hand, and locked eyes with Elizabeth. He pleasured himself. His hand was still wet from when he touched her, her scent clung to him. Darcy was painfully aroused.

Elizabeth watched as her husband moved, the sounds he produced were so stimulating, her senses were greatly exhilarated. Wanting to touch Darcy, she moved to stand behind him. She pressed her body to his, then reached around until her hand cupped his balls, gently massaging them as he taught her. Darcy groaned, his head fell back.

"Was this how you pleasured yourself before you married me?" She whispered, "Did you think of me? Was I touching you as I do now?" Her other hand found a nipple and pinched it.

Darcy growled, he turned around and with a dark expression, tilted her head back and kissed Elizabeth deeply. Both breathless, Darcy let her go so he could divest himself of his remaining garments, his wife watched on appreciatively.

Completely naked now, Darcy led Elizabeth to his desk. He guided her until she was bent over the surface. Standing behind her, he raised her skirts, exposing her bottom and womanhood. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear "Did you see this position, Elizabeth?" His hand kneaded her bottom. "I have imagined taking you this way many, many times."

Elizabeth bit her lip, heat spread all over her body at her husband's words. She turned her head, eyes hot, she called to him. "Show me, William, show me what it is like."

Darcy ran his manhood along the crevice of her bottom, its wet tip leaving a tingling trail across Elizabeth's sensitized skin. Slowly, he entered her. Elizabeth's eyes closed from the sensations, her mouth fell open in a gasp. Darcy's hands gripped her hips as he completely sheathed himself in her warmth. He moved within her.

"William! It feels wonderful!" Elizabeth gasped as he stroked her deeply. Darcy's hand sought her breasts, but layers of clothing hindered his goal. Frustrated, he pulled his wife's gown down to her waist, revealing her stays and chemise.

The stays Elizabeth had on showed complicated lacings, not at all easy to loosen as the ones she normally wore. Darcy swore under his breath.

"Lizzy, never go back to that French modiste!" He said, making Elizabeth smile in amusement amidst her desire.

Darcy reached across the desk for his penknife. He bent down to show Elizabeth the instrument he held, then whispered in her ear.

"Do not move, Lizzy."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. Carefully, Darcy cut the laces on her stays. Elizabeth gasped as she felt her undergarments slowly give way. By the time her breasts were released from their confines, she was extremely aroused. Moving quickly, Darcy pulled her chemise down and grasped Elizabeth's breasts, squeezing their softness. He resumed his thrusts, this time surging harder and with greater vigor.

Darcy marveled at the profound pleasure that took over his body, he wanted to fuse his whole being with Elizabeth's. The love and desire he felt for her abounded both in his body and in his soul, oh would that he could be with her like this forever!

Darcy was rewarded when he felt Elizabeth's spasms claim her body, her core clinging tightly to his manhood. Her accompanying sobs of pure ecstasy commanded him to follow her in that state of ultimate fulfillment. And follow her, he did. As he had always done, as he would always do. Shouting her name, Darcy pulled her up and clasped her body to his as he claimed his glorious release.

A quiet settled over the study, garments littered the floor, the desk and its contents stood askew. Two figures, completely and thoroughly sated lay entwined on the settee.

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Darcy, with shaking legs, had carried Elizabeth to the nearby settee. He covered them with a throw blanket that was draped on the settee. Wrapping his arms around his wife, they had drifted into a light sleep.

Winter sunshine poured from the tall windows that surrounded the study. As they stirred into wakefulness, Elizabeth was conscious of the beautiful peace that settled over her. Her head rested on her husband's chest, she waited for Darcy to look at her. When he did, she smiled radiantly at him. To love this man, in this way, was more than she had ever dreamed possible. How truly fortunate she was.

"I shall always be grateful for your love of reading, Elizabeth." Darcy chuckled.

Elizabeth colored. "You handed me that key for a reason, you anticipated my curious nature would lead me to that— that book!"

"I do not deny that I had hoped events would carry on in such a way." Darcy's brows wiggled. "Shall I bring up the offending book to our rooms?"

His wife laughed. "You are incorrigible!"

"But you love me anyway."

"But I love you anyway."

They kissed a slow, sweet kiss. Lips lingering among whispered words of love and dreams. It was was a testament of their bond, fundamental and profound.

My poor undergarments!" Elizabeth suddenly giggled. "Oh, William! I cannot believe you cut my stays, they were new!"

"They were loathsome, abominable things! As your husband, I command you never to wear them again!"

Darcy's words drove Elizabeth to laughter.

"You ridiculous, adorable man!"

Elizabeth sighed, happy and content, she tickled Darcy's side. Grinning at him, she teased, "Many, many times you say, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy grinned back. He caught a strand of Elizabeth's curls that had come undone, and brushed it against his lips.

"Yes, and if you must know, for I am quite certain that you shall ask, the very first imagining was in the Netherfield study."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" Elizabeth slapped his chest playfully. "You cannot possibly be serious!" Her expression was a mixture of shock and pleasure.

Darcy's laughter rang across the room, oh if his wife knew of the things that he had imagined doing to her in those early days, and in what locations!

But perhaps, perhaps he could still show her. A gleam formed in his eye. To say that Elizabeth had proven to be a most agreeable partner in such endeavors, was certainly an understatement.

"Mrs. Darcy, I believe I have yet to show you the billiards room."