In the Arms of Mr. Darcy (59 page)

They were utterly insatiable.

"I believe that the moon has turned you into a wild beast," Lizzy teased, her respirations gasping in time with her spouse's. She lay draped across his naked chest, sweat slick on their flushed skin, satisfied and deliriously happy as she tickled over his sensitive rib cage.

He rolled her over, hands clasping her wrists over her head. He grinned wickedly, eyes brazenly scanning over her body, and shook his head slowly. "Perhaps. But personally, I do not think the moon has anything to do with it." And without further ado he lowered his mouth to her bosom, beginning an oral exploration that would eventually have her crying his name in ecstasy.

The exalting pleasure of endless romance with the one person loved more than all others was stronger medicine than the drinking water or calmative baths. Lizzy did sleep for long stretches, but woke refreshed and ready for more romance, often initiating the procedure although Darcy roused swiftly each and every time. Her appetite for both food and her husband increased hourly and daily. It was a pattern of lovemaking, talking, laughing, eating, more love, or maybe sleep, that repeated again and again. Neither could unequivocally assert that they broke any records in those three days, but it assuredly was remarkable. They separated only for their individual toilettes, hastily washing before returning to renewed intimate play and exercise. Darcy did not even bother to shave, Lizzy teasing that the whiskers validated the animalistic transformation. Not that she was complaining one iota!

On their last night, they lay spooned together with Lizzy's back pressed tightly into Darcy's chest. One long, muscular leg twined over hers, keeping her secure and warm. They had napped for several hours after their last wild interlude that had begun while properly dressed and sitting at the dining table when Darcy impulsively hauled her onto his lap to lick the gravy off her bottom lip. That was enough to spark the smoldering fire. The dining chair, thankfully large and sturdy, was utilized efficiently and was miraculously undamaged when they crumbled into a heap of weakened muscles that required approximately fifteen minutes of immobility before staggering together to collapse upon the bed and fall into a deep sleep.

Now they were awake, but content to talk quietly, caress tenderly, and stare out the wide windows at the glowing moon and sparkling stars peeking through the broken clouds. A fire crackled, providing the only illumination. Darcy idly kissed along her sloping neck, rough beard sending delighted shivers over her spine, and ran his fingertips lightly over her flat belly.

"Do you think it possible we created a baby while here, Elizabeth?"

Lizzy smiled, drawing the fingers clasped within her own to her lips for a kiss. "Considering your stored seed after a long abstinence and that we made love, what, a million times?" She laughed. "I imagine it is possible."

"I pray so. I am ready for another child." He paused, cupping her abdomen, and then resumed with conviction. "I believe we have. I feel it."

"Do you now? Clairvoyance, is it?"

"Not precisely, no. But I wish for another baby, one who resembles you this time. And I always get what I want," he finished with smug assurance, grinning as Lizzy laughed and turned in his arms, face radiant with happiness and superb health.

"Arrogant," she teased.

"Indubitably," he agreed, grin widening. "Yet you know it is true that I usually do have my way. And who is it whom continually extols my prowess?"

He lifted his left brow, Lizzy helpless but to laugh and nod. She brushed across his cheek with tender fingertips, encircling his head and embedding her fingers into his mussed hair. "Just in case you are wrong, we have all night and tomorrow morning to work on the project."

"I do so love you, Elizabeth. More than it is possible for me to verbalize."

"I love you as deeply, William, my heart. But do not fret if words fail you, as showing me your adoration conveys the emotion most admirably."

"Are you positive?" He asked with an arched brow and crooked smile. "I could not live with myself if my treasured wife did not adequately comprehend the depth of my sentiments."

"Hmm... Perhaps you should expound upon the subject one more time. Drive the point home, shall we say, so I shan't have any questions."

"Drive the point home? Colorful, my love. I am impressed. Shall I begin by articulating my passion for your silky skin by covering you with moist kisses?" And without waiting for an answer he stretched onto her, his sturdy frame pressing her into the mattress, while his lips nuzzled along her neck, feathering kisses and light flicks of his tongue from her earlobe to fragile collarbone.

At her shoulder he paused, elevating slightly and lifting her arm at the wrist to examine the ivory length as he mused, "Are kisses and nibbles enough to express how I live for the feel of your arms wrapped around me? Can I prove how your beautiful, feminine hands touching me both in tender care and uncontrollable desire heighten my joy?" He brought her inner wrist to his mouth, again kissing and licking, adding suckles and tiny nips to the sensitive area where her pulse raced. He took each finger into his mouth, leisurely sucking, watching her aroused eyes with tremendous satisfaction. A dozen or more intense kisses and he finally traversed the distance, returning to her mouth. His tall, broad-shouldered body again fully covered her svelte one, squeezing so deliciously while he kissed her hungrily.

He moved both large hands to her breasts, palms cupping the fullness that no longer fit completely within his grasp. "Your breasts," he resumed huskily. "Words do fail. None exist to explain how your breasts drive me to insane levels of arousal. It is unfair that one woman should possess breasts so utterly perfect and that I am the man blessed to enjoy them."

"Unfair?" She asked with a laugh.

"Very well, not unfair. I suffer no shame over my incredibly good fortune." And with that declaration he licked over one taut nipple, that taste only the
amuse-bouche
portion of the feast he relished for the subsequent fifteen minutes on her bosom alone.

The declarations and stimulation encompassed every part of her body. When he eventually drove home, as she humorously termed it, burying himself deeply within those secret places that were only and forever his to explore and bring pleasure, their passions were once again surging and raging.

He held her face within the palms of his hands, kissing slowly as his body tirelessly rocked in a measured rhythm. She rose to meet him, her legs wound about his waist and buttocks, the undulant motion controlled and synchronized blissfully. Soft murmurs of love and desire sporadically mixed with the pants and moans. But their faces never parted more than a few inches. Lips nuzzled and kissed, noses brushed cheeks, eyes fluttered open for brief connections, and breath mingled.

Their breathing grew ragged, the tempo quickening as their grips tightened. Darcy clutched her firmly as she did him, fused along every surface. His lidded eyes locked onto her glorious face until the last possible second when the need overwhelmed. He arched his neck, eyes closing as the spasms of intense pleasure rocked their bodies, groaning as he emptied himself thoroughly until finally collapsing into the bend of her neck.

They returned to Pemberley the next day with Lizzy glowing, completely free of cold symptoms, and utterly refreshed. Darcy was invigorated as well, the holiday clearly one highly beneficial to both of them.

The following month passed in a blur. The winter of 1818 was far milder than the previous one. The temperature dropped low enough to freeze the drizzle into light dustings of snow upon occasion, but it never lasted long enough to accumulate before a warmer air current melted it away. When it came to traveling, this was a positive in not being so coldly uncomfortable, but the nearly constant moisture turned the roads into a muddy quagmire. The Darcy coach was sturdy and pulled by strong horses, but the going was slow.

For that reason, they decided to remain in London after Richard and Simone's wedding, keeping their agendas open ended. Darcy attended to business and his favored pursuits while Lizzy and Georgiana shopped and visited with the few friends present in Town prior to the official Season.

Thus, they were in their Darcy House bedchamber on a dreary morning in early February when Lizzy abruptly woke while lying in her husband's arms. She roughly disengaged her limbs from his, her elbow and heels painfully striking his inert flesh a time or two, vaulted out of bed, and barely reached her chamber pot before becoming violently ill.

Trembling and with stomach churning, she shuffled into the bedchamber holding a wet cloth against her forehead. A sleepy, slightly bruised, but anticipatory Darcy sat waiting in the bed for her return. "Are you? That is, do you think?"

Lizzy gingerly laid back down, glaring into her husband's shining eyes from underneath the compress, and answered in a clipped tone, "I cannot be certain, Fitzwilliam, but it certainly seems probable that your wish for another child may be true."

Darcy chuckled, managing to control the overwhelming urge to leap from the bed and dance about the room, nestling his wife close to his warm body. "This is amazing news, my love! I
knew
we conceived while at Matlock Bath! Did I not say so at the time? I could feel it, I just knew! Remember?"

Lizzy smiled faintly at the raging enthusiasm that was rapidly threatening to override his restraint. "Yes, I recall very well, Mr. Darcy. Your rather smug assertions in the ability to impregnate upon demand were abundantly conveyed. How proud you must be."

Darcy laughed harder, kissing with gusto, before pulling away to smooth the hair from her brow with a tender caress. He gently pressed the damp cloth over her pale cheeks, his radiant grin not completely hiding his concern for her well-being. Still, his happiness and pride ruled.

"When, do you think? On our first day, when we made love before the fire with you astride me, and the flames flickered over your skin? That was incredible. Or the time we woke in the darkness of pre-dawn. God, you were unbelievable! I saw stars, Elizabeth, and not because we tumbled to the floor. And that last night. Yes, that may be it! Your eyes were glowing as we finished, and I thought I would never stop shuddering with pleasure and filling you. I was blissfully drained. Or maybe..."

"You forgot to mention the pool, when you tackled me so roughly that I scraped my backside." Her tone was teasing but vaguely surly.

He chuckled, rubbing over the long since healed minor abrasion on her tailbone. "I apologize again, my love"--his tone was low and not the slightest bit remorseful--"but Lord help me, it was worth any pain! I nearly fainted from the heavenly satisfaction."

"Easy for you to say," she grumbled. "It wasn't your bottom bruised."

He threw his head back laughing, Lizzy slapping him on the arm and trying to twist away in irritation. He tightened his grip, however, drawing her closer and kissing her pouting lips. "Is it to begin already, my sweet? The honeyed disposition of early pregnancy? At least now I am prepared for the symptom and can lock my study door while conducting business."

He was grinning broadly, wearing an expression ageless as all men somehow conclude that pregnancy is in greater part a result of their virility, as if the woman has scant to do with the inception.

"Hysterical. Since you apparently are the sole instigator of my condition then I judge it only fair if you must live with the symptomatic consequences!"

"My Lizzy, my beloved wife. I will tolerate anything for you and the blessing of another child growing within. I am so happy! Please tell me you are as well?"

Lizzy smiled softly, reaching to stroke over his stubbly cheeks. "I am only teasing you, William. Of course I am happy! Another child with your eyes and face would please me greatly. Another angel to love and cherish. A sibling for our precious Alexander. Our baby created from our deep love and passion. How could I not be overjoyed?"

"I love you, Elizabeth."

"And I love you, my darling husband." They kissed slowly, reverently, Darcy's strong hand moving to caress over her abdomen in tender awe. Lizzy suddenly giggled, breaking the kiss.

Darcy's brow rose questioningly, luminous jubilation not diminished in the slightest by her oddly placed humor. "Have I amused you, Mrs. Darcy?"

"I was just remembering how wild we were in Matlock. You were an untamed beast and I was as crazed, hence why you felt so certain a baby would be the result. Let us just pray that atmospheric conditions and frenzied lovemaking do not influence personality traits!"

Acknowledgments

Major thanks to Deb Werksman, Dominique Raccah, Danielle Jackson, Sarah Ryan, and Susie Benton for continuing to believe in me and being so awesome at what they do. For everyone else at Sourcebooks who does a brilliant job of bringing my books to gorgeous, perfect life: You folks rock!

I can never thank my faithful readers enough for their kindness and support. I hope that each of you knows how incredible you are and how inspiring it is to have satisfied, vocal fans. To my TSBO devotees. Vee, Simone, Esther Ann, Seli, Julie C., Jen, May, Kathy SF, Jeane, Susanne, and Elly, you ladies have been there since the beginning: I love you all.

Huge hugs to my Casablanca sisters for welcoming me in, supporting and encouraging, sharing their wisdom, and for just being totally awesome! Identical warm fuzzies for my local RWA chapter, the Yosemite Romance Writers. You ladies are terrific and darned fun to hang out with.