Standard Disclaimer: The characters below are not mine. They are the creative property of Jane Austin, who would never lower herself to create such smut. Since the special on PBS and the movie, I needed a cathartic release – hence smut happened. NOT FOR KIDDIES. This is intended only for the mature audience. Personal preference – would be either married or engaged before you get past the conversation between the elder sisters.
Comments welcome, but please don't yell.
"Lizzie, your color! What is it?" Elizabeth had joined her sister in their bedroom for the evening. She'd been given a lot to think about.
"I just had a talk with mother. Is that what made you quiet all morning?"
"It is quite a bit to consider on the eve of one's marriage. I do not wonder any longer at your color."
"Nor I, at your quietness. Does it trouble you?"
Jane made a place for Lizzie on their bed. She'd had the same speech earlier and had had more time to digest it. "Only that such candor should come from our mother. She was quite frank with me."
"She was no less frank with me. I do not know what to make of it."
"Is there no analogy to be made in your reading?"
Despite all the events of the past week, Jane's words made Elizabeth feel more at ease. She sat beside her sister on their bed. "You are mocking me, Jane," She chided. "Come now, shall we not also be frank? What was your impression?
Jane was not dismayed. "I believe that Mother wished to make sure that our romantic sensibilities were balanced with a practical understanding of our coming duties as wives to great men." It seemed a sensible assessment and Elizabeth appreciated it. Much of their time in the past few days had been consumed with preparations for their weddings. The conversation with one's mother was an accepted and expected custom.
"I had believed Mother had no other thought to our marriages than to have them occur," Elizabeth admitted. Then she added with some sarcasm, "She certainly would not have had such a conversation with Lydia!"
Jane nodded. "She had no time for such a conversation. I wonder at it though, after bringing such a -" Jane's voice dropped to a whisper, "such a libertine into the family." Then added, "But, what do you mean?"
"Only this, even after the way Wickham behaved, Mother's instructions seems to imply that such behavior is not only to be tolerated in marriage, but expected." Jane almost winced at the thought. It was generally understood that men were taught such matters differently than women but having no brothers it was really only an assumption.
"Perhaps she only wanted us to be prepared for the worst."
"Is that it?"
"She did say that grandchildren will not be – "
The two finished together, "gotten from polite conversation." The girls laughed conspiratorially. A moment later Jane asked, "I know I should be frightened but I'm not. Mr. Bingley is too utterly gentle and loving to be in any way offensive. And Mr. Darcy – you do feel the same way about him, do you not?"
Lizzie nodded uncertainly. "He is most assuredly given to gentlemanly behavior – but if Mother is correct – and I see good reason that she should be – such customs are of no import within the private confines of marriage."
"What are you thinking of?"
"I do not know," Lizzie shrugged, "but I suppose I shall learn."
Elizabeth's head was spinning with joy but still clear enough to tease her new husband, "Is it a trifle inequitable that I should have a new title but you should not?" Their previous conversation in the carriage had established his permission to call her Lizzie and hers to call him Fitzwilliam or William when they were alone. However, with the servants looming so near, it did not seem the time.
Darcy chuckled and bowed, "Very well, good evening, - wife."
Elizabeth curtsied, "Good evening, husband."
It was still early evening when the couple arrived at Pemberly and the maid was most anxious for the staff to greet their new lady. It boded well to her that the bride and groom were so easy and pleasant with each other. The way that Mrs. Darcy glanced happily at her new home was entirely different than the way the Miss Bingley or Miss Ann de Bourgh had glared at it –as if it were a poor offering which they longed to reconstruct. She assembled the staff in the great room as instructed and took Mrs. Darcy's hat and Mr. Darcy's greatcoat. Mr. Darcy proceeded to introduce Elizabeth as the new lady of the manor to each of the staff individually. He instructed the younger ones to bring the lady's belongings to his quarters and the rest of the staff to make some particular amusements for Georgiana. Having already feasted after the wedding, Mr. Darcy told the servants to prepare for a late breakfast.
Georgiana entered a bit later during his speech, hugging her new sister warmly. She told her brother that the staff had already prepared fireworks in celebration of their master's happiness to begin at one hour after sunset. She also noted with an apologetic nod that she had approved a feast for the staff in order to celebrate and toast their new mistress. Elizabeth blushed and Darcy kissed his sister on the forehead. "You are marvelous," he said.
Elizabeth, surrounded by such warmth and welcome, felt only very little unease as she thanked her new family and staff and bid them, at Darcy's instruction, goodnight. Her welcome to the palatial estate was too dream-like for her to notice or feel alarm at how quickly Darcy led her up the stairs. It was only at the top of the landing, with the staff well out of sight, that he swept Elizabeth off her feet and carried her to their bridal chamber. Elizabeth stifled a small yelp at the action and found herself looking into the fiery bright eyes of her husband. His smile was beautiful and warm with a strange quality that made her breath quicken.
Within their room, Darcy released his bride only partially to the floor, grasping her in a bold embrace. "Husband," Lizzie sighed before he caught her lips with his. Never had she imagined such wild abandon of affection. His kiss was firm and demanded of her submission to emotions she did not understand. Her knees were becoming weak when he released her. His look was unapologetically exultant as he took her hand and led her to the large veiled bed that loomed in the center of the room.
The bed clothes for both were laid on the cabinet at the foot of the bed. The sight of them made Lizzie nervous for the first time that day. She reached her hand out and took the folded nightdress, which fell open revealing a simple elegant design with ornate cloth buttons almost halfway down the dress. She liked the look of it and looked about for a moment to find a folding screen or a changing room where she could put it on. She had been in the beautifully ornate gown for hours. Her heart fairly stopped when Darcy took the garment from her hand and returned it. "A mere formality," he said as she noticed that he had already removed his boots.
Her mother's words of wisdom flooded back into her thoughts. "The marriage bed is sacred, my dear, all intimacies allowed and proper. In this you must trust your husband to lead you. Trust in him and no dishonor will be done." Elizabeth released the night dress and allowed Darcy cup her face in his hands for another kiss. His hands caressed her cheek and fumbled with her hair to let it fall. Lizzie, feeling suddenly bold, assisted him to bring her hair down until it fell across her shoulders. She barely thought of the lovely night cap laid out for her as Darcy kissed her face and neck.
Alarm returned only when Darcy proceeded to turn her around so that she faced away from him. She felt his hand brush the newly fallen curls from her neck to run the other down her back to the clasps of her gown. "All that is of love is allowed, for both your husband and yourself. Do not fear what you shall feel, though it shall doubtless be strange. Remember love and resist nothing." In a moment, her gown was quite open and falling from her body. She could not help but tremble as she felt his hands tracing the upward line of her exposed corset. A gasp escaped her as she felt his mouth tasting her neck and collar. The warmth of his lips and the feeling of his hand on her corset made her feel unable to move for a moment. His other hand cupped her neck, gently pushing aside her lace undergarment. Her skin burned and she leaned her head back onto his shoulder before she realized that this gave him a very unfettered view of her bosom. She was not certain whether or not she was breathing.
Darcy marveled and forced his breathing to slow as he found the ties to her corset. It was tightly bound and it was mildly irritating to cease his exploration of exposed flesh to employ his second hand to unbind it. Consequently, the ties were removed with a very un-gentlemanly force. Lizzie made a small noise like a whimper as he thrust the loose gown forward and downward. The feeling of its weight falling away was both freeing and terrifying. Her body was loosed for whatever he dared to want from her. It made him notice her trembling all the more as he forced the remaining fabric and corset down her legs. With his hands on her hips he turned Elizabeth to face him and led her to step out of the pool of clothing. Obediently she did so, looking to the eyes of her husband to calm her. Clothed only in her petticoat and bloomers, her second arm shyly went across her chest but he continued to lead her around to the side of their bed. As he walked he threw aside his cravat, scarf and removed his waistcoat.
Lizzie's hand went naturally to the covers of the bed as Darcy tossed aside his waistcoat. Her magnificent mind was a blur as he instructed her to turn the covers down. She did so, trying not to gape as he removed his shirt from his waistband. He then unbound the ties so that it fell open giving Lizzie an intriguing glimpse of his chest. Oddly he stopped her from sitting on exposed bedding, pulling her back up into his embrace instead. His arms enfolded her firmly, pressing her chest to his. Her legs weakened beneath her. Elizabeth's burning skin found its match beneath Darcy's shirt. Her mind struggled with the thought that forced itself to be acknowledged. He means me to be naked. Her arms wound upward around his shoulders, half to feel the mass of taut muscles beneath and half to steady herself against his growing urgency. He did not hinder or object to her efforts or perhaps he did not notice them. Her lips were gradually being urged apart by his as he tasted her more deeply. She felt as if she were becoming drunk with his scent. Her mind swirled with it. After a moment, she felt the fabric of her petticoat sliding from her shoulders and gasped.
Darcy to, was drunk from the taste of his bride. He devoured her mouth greedily as he felt the gentle rhythm of her breasts brushing against him. The tight constraint of his breeches was beginning to fail. Her beauty was everything he's imagined in his most licentious dreams. Her taste was ambrosia and he longed for more. Each of his efforts had been met with the most delightful sounds as well as a very promising acceptance. He could sense her uncertainty in both her body and the way she stopped herself each time a moan or whimper escaped. He determined to free her. As he began to gather the fabric of her petticoat downward, her gasp freed her lips for a moment. Darcy looked into the bewildered but willing eyes of his bride and smiled with brazen lust. "The servants are all celebrating in the north wing," he murmured, "no one can hear you."His voice and boldness made her feel helpless. He trailed kisses down her neck as he freed both of her shoulders at once. Lizzie moved her hands from his back to his shoulders as he sat on the edge of the bed, forcing her to stand before him. He had yet to instruct her further so she simply murmured and sighed beneath his kisses while her hands traced his magnificently wide shoulders.
She did not notice as he positioned her between his knees because his kisses were trailing down between her breasts. She moaned as his thumbs brushed the side of her breasts and shivered as they rested on her waist. Darcy sat back for a moment and smiled at his bride. "Better," he breathed as his hands moved to her hands. He removed them from his shoulders just long enough to remove his shirt. He then returned them to his chest as he rose from the bed. He resumed unbuttoning and kissing his way up her bosom to her neck until he was savoring her lips once more. Her hands tingled with the heat and pounding that emanated beneath the small curls and rippling muscles of his chest. His skin was moist and smooth despite the gentle hairs that covered it. As he rose, her palms brushed lower onto hardened nipples which then pressed against her own. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and neck; one hand nestled into the glorious mass of his thick tresses while the other explored the burning skin and taught muscles of his shoulders and back. His tongue was once more exploring her lips as his body turned hers.
"Mmmph," she gasped as her petticoat released her breasts to rest naked against him. Her nipples were erect and pulsing when he slowly lowered her to the bed and he drank in the sight of her. Her body arched at the shock of being horizontal which allowed Darcy to tear the remaining clothes from her arms. His body glistened looming over her and Lizzie gazed in amazement before her freed arms rose to cover her own exposed chest.
"No," Darcy chided, removing her arms. He stood proudly between her knees ogling her as he pulled her petticoat to the floor and untied the waist of her pantaloons. Lizzie shuddered and her legs flinched against his. Lizzie's breath came in faint pleading gasps. Knowing that the fateful moment was near, he leered triumphantly. "Yes," he purred, "I want to hear your voice." He found the buttons of his own waistband and began to unfasten them while her body flushed with color. "And I intend to see my bride," he announced, "all of you." With one hand on her hip and the other cushioning his decent he landed beside her and pulled her into his body. His free hand slid beneath her bloomers, cupping and stroking her bottom while his mouth descended upon her breast.
Her fingers caressed the harness of his nipples hoping that it would cause him even half the distress he was causing her. "William!" she cried, as sensations flooded her body. His mouth covered her nipple as his tongue lapped and teased it to a painful peak. His hand on her buttock was sending shivers through her loins as he continued stroking her thigh and cheek. He then directed her free hand to his waist and encouraged her timid fingers downward until they found the curve of his own bottom where she imitated his actions. Lying there this way, his fingers slowly traced ever closer to the pulsing heat between her legs. For several agonizing minutes, Lizzie flinched and moaned, blatantly despising the last bits of clothing that separated her from her husband. Finally he reached his arm back across her waist as he turned over her and placed her on her other side. His arm passed down both legs as his free hands pulled the rest of the undergarment free. He sat up pulling her up to sit utterly naked across his lap. She could feel him pulsing under his loosened trousers.
He kissed her lips once tenderly before looking into her eyes stroking her neck. "I am in love with you, Elizabeth Darcy."
"I am in love with you, Fitzwilliam Darcy," she breathed.
His eyes followed his hand as he caressed the length of her body. He followed the curve of her breast down her belly, barely brushing the top of her thighs as he continued down the length of her legs. He breathed her scent as his hand returned and cupped her breast long enough for a moment of kissing and teasing then preceded to her back. He watched the movement of her breasts and belly as he stroked her bottom then focused on the dark black curls between her thighs. He caressed her thigh upward to brush the soft mysterious darkness with his thumb. Lizzie's body jolted in response and Darcy felt the urgency in his loins rise to the point of pain. With his free hand he opened a place in the covers for her and slid her into it.
Lizzie shuddered between the sheet and coverlet as she watched her William undo the last of his buttons and creep slowly beneath the covers. His breeches no longer disguised the growing movement beneath them. Lizzie trembled to see that the mass below was the only thing that kept his trousers from falling and dared to remember that it was meant for her. In a moment he was beside her once more. Beneath the covers his kisses resumed more deeply and urgently. Her hands resumed exploring his muscles and even dared to venture lower, until she found his waistband at the upper curve of his bottom. She did not have time to go further because the next moment He forced her back to arch upward so that he could once more devour her breasts. While tormenting her he finally removed his breaches and pushed them out of the covers onto the floor. He then pulled her close once more grasping her bottom and pulling her knee up to his hip.
Lizzie could feel his length pulsing against hers thigh as his hand worked up and down her other leg. His fingers brushed the tender flesh between her legs, causing her to jump and moan. The sound was the final straw for Darcy. Turning her onto her back he caressed and teased while his free hand reached down to part her thighs for him. While he positioned himself he explored her other breast with his mouth and tended the other with his hand. He rolled her nipples with his tongue and fingers until she arched and called out to him. With that, he slowly inched his body upward kissing back up her neck and chin until he was poised beneath her. She could feel him throbbing against her burning entrance. She looked into his face to see the same look of concern that beset her. "Lizzie," he murmured then kissed her again. His hands under her bottom slowly lifted upward. Lizzie's legs quaked and she fought to breath as his kisses robbed her of thought. Slowly being impaled was not the awful shock her mother had mentioned, but all thought of her advice had fled. She cried out as a burning sensation shook her and made Darcy groan.
The barrier breached, Darcy let his weigh fall into his bride. He swallowed her cries and tried to keep her body from flailing. It took a moment of resting this way before he felt safe to continue with any control. Lizzie panted to catch her breath when he released her lips again. Darcy began to work in her, returning one hand to her breast to elicit the squeals and tremors he so enjoyed.
Lizzie returned her hands to caress his back and shoulders as her legs caressed his legs. His body stroked the burning in her loins while his mouth made her dizzy with his kisses and the way he hungrily devoured her neck. She felt as if she were being consumed by an irresistible force that would destroy her and she longed for the destruction. She wanted to fight the force that was filling her body with such pleasure, urgency and longing. Each plunge made her ache for more. Her nipples wear bursting with the same ache. Each time his hips met hers she arched at the mad fire that taunted her depths with the promise something delirious and freeing.
Darcy reveled in every touch, every sound, and every movement. At last Elizabeth Bennet was utterly his. Only one thing remained and she was very close. As he began to sweat with the effort of not giving in, he felt her body tense. A startled gasp forced him to slow his movements and he looked into her beautiful face. Her body was locked in an arch beneath him and her eyes were wide with amazement and desire. He wasted no time but continued slowly, kissing her deeply and forcing her hips to not buck against him. Yet, her frantic grasping was a pleasure great enough to begin his gradual descent from control to animal impulse.
Lizzie too, felt the shift in her body from urgency to imminent devastation. She thought she would die when Darcy slowed down. She flailed beneath him in response but he stopped her and continued his slow infuriating pace. She clutched at his back and bottom unaware of the effect it was having on him. She did not know how long it lasted before the stroking of her loins, breast, and neck met in one consuming moment of passion. Darcy growled into her throat as the pulsing of her loins seemed to explode inside her body. "Lizzie!" he groaned, drowned only by her shrieking his name. The crest sent waves of pleasure through her body and Darcy rocked against it as pleasure spilled from him into her. The spasms in her loins were pulling the life from his body through the surge in his own.
Passion rode them both with wild cries until finally it settled into a dizzy warmth. Darcy remained on top of her kissing his bride until both could breathe normally. After a few moments Darcy rolled them both until they were on their sides, legs still intertwined, facing each other. She looked into his face as they both noticed that the fireworks outside had begun. He grinned hungrily. "Welcome home Mrs. Darcy."