Page 57 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
She laughed again.
“Very well. Hurry up and take them off! I have been without you long enough.”
He sat down on the chair by the writing desk, removing his shoes as carefully as he always did. The only change was his hands, which trembled so sorely he could scarcely undo the fastenings. He did not look away from his task, though he felt Elizabeth’s eyes on him. When his shoes were off, he took his stockings with them, stuffing them down into the shoes. He stood, the floor cold beneath his feet.
“Come to me, my love,” Elizabeth beckoned.
He walked to the bed, sitting down on the edge. He was as far from Elizabeth as he could be, and she quickly made her dissatisfaction with the arrangement clear. She shifted towards him, her leg still stretched out in front of him. Her fingers curled around the edge of his waistcoat, tugging him towards her.
“Closer,” she whispered. “And get rid of this.”
She released his waistcoat, instead pulling at his jacket and pushing it back. He took it off himself, letting it fall to the floor beside him. Their fingers worked together at the buttons of his waistcoat, silently divesting him of it. When he was in his shirt sleeves, her hands moved to the opening of his shirt. He expected her to pull it up and over his head, but she did not.
Her hand slipped inside, her cool palm meeting the heated skin of his chest. He gasped at the touch, his breath shuddering. She stroked at the soft hair of his chest, no doubt feeling the pounding rhythm of his heart as it beat wildly behind his ribcage.
“I have longed to touch you properly,” she said softly. “You spent so long touching me, sir ; I was not permitted to do the same.”
“I needed nothing but your pleasure,” he said softly. “I do not expect you to touch me if you do not truly desire it.”
“Of course I desire it,” she smiled, reaching up and kissing his cheek. She was playful, her voice teasing and laced with something new, too. “I want to see you, to touch you, to kiss you. Is that wrong?”
“Never,” he murmured, surging forward and kissing her urgently.
She squeaked with surprise, her hand still caught between them. She slipped her hand away from his chest, instead threading her eager fingers through his hair as his mouth devoured hers. He had told himself he would be a gentleman on their wedding night, that he would not show her his desperate need. He had allowed longing to take over him, and he could not get enough of her.
She leaned back, pulling him down with her until he was almost lying on top of her. He braced himself on his forearms, pulling away. He stared down at her, spread out below him like an angel. Her lips were swollen from the intensity of their kisses, her eyes glassy with desire.
“I will hurt you. Your leg…”
“My leg is nearly healed. You may be gentle, but you do not need to treat me as though I am made of glass. I will not shatter.”
“You will let me know the moment you feel pain?”
“Of course. Kiss me, my love. Stop talking and kiss me.”
He did as she asked him, his hands cupping her face as their lips met once more. It was slower this time, more intentional. He was sure he would never tire of the feeling of her lips against his. Her tongue swiped softly at his lips, and he gasped eagerly, meeting it with his own.
His hand roamed her body, exploring the gentle curves of her waist. The soft fabric of her nightgown, which was surely meant to be pleasing to a husband, was nothing but a hindrance. He longed for the smooth skin he knew awaited him beneath her gown.
Darcy broke their kiss, shifting off her and kneeling back on his heels. Her chest rose with each laboured breath, her hand reaching out for him.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, disappointment in every word.
“I want you bare.”
Her eyes widened at his command. She sat up, her hands reaching for the hem of her nightgown. He shoved them away, replacing them with his own. He gathered her nightgown up, tracing the length of her leg with one finger. Elizabeth watched him silently, her eyes following each movement. When the gown reached her hips, he hesitated. She caught his gaze, and nodded her consent. He pushed the gown higher, marvelling as inch by inch of perfect skin was revealed to him.
It was not the first time he had seen her like this, but that had been different; hurried, and illicit. Now, they were before one another as man and wife, and every moment of this night was a sacred thing that bound them together eternally.
“Stop,” Lizzy said softly. “I want to see you. All of you.”
He nodded, snatching his hand back and at once moving it to his own body. He gathered the hem of his shirt in one hand and pulled it over his head, slipping his arms free of the sleeves and tossing it over his head. It joined the other items of clothing discarded at his wife’s bidding. He stood to remove his trousers and underclothes. Elizabeth’s eyes did not stray from his body, and he wondered how it was possible that she could feel any semblance of the rapture he felt for her body for his.
He pushed down his trousers and underclothes in one bunch, not wishing to prolong this for any longer. His manhood sprung up lewdly, and he inhaled sharply. Elizabeth’s eyes widened, her breath catching as she stared at that most intimate part of him.
She sat up, shuffling slowly to the edge of the bed beside him. She reached out a hand, asking his silent permission to touch him. He nodded, staring down at her in awe. She hesitated, pulling her hand back and instead gathering her nightgown and lifting it up. He helped her lift it over her head, taking it from her and throwing it on the floor behind them.
He looked down at her, admiring her body unashamedly - seeing what he had touched and caressed in the darkness in light at last. She smiled up at him, her hands clasped on her lap as she watched him carefully. She was exquisite, every part of her more beautiful than the last. The gentle slope of her shoulders, her strong arms, the full swell of her breasts, the gentle roll of herstomach as she sat before him…he would spend his life exploring her body.
