Author's note

If you find explicit description of intimate acts offensive, this is the last chapter of this story for you, and it is censored by merely cutting out the more intimate paragraphs. You can also decide to just not read it at all, Chapter 10 ends quite nicely with a marriage.

If however you do not find intimate acts offensive, you can read the rest of this story under an M-rating, including this chapter 11 uncensored.

I will publish a few more chapters, there are several loose ends that I want to tie up, and I have some ideas that I want to elaborate on, but our heroes are a married couple, and as such they will be intimate regularly, so the rating will stay M.

Chapter 11

After a very short, but very enjoyable drive in the relatively unadorned but beautifully crafted carriage that Elizabeth chose, Darcy hands his bride out of the carriage, and leads her to his house, where the door is not held open by a butler, but opened with a key, by himself. All the staff is dismissed for the night, Georgiana has agreed to stay in Bingley's house this once, they have the house all to themselves, they are finally alone.

Darcy carries a little bag with some essentials that Jane has packed for her sister, and as the carriage is taken to the stables by the driver, Darcy lets them in, closes and locks the door behind them and leads Elizabeth to his own bedroom, a large, comfortable room on the first floor.

He helps her into a comfortable chair next, and kneels before her. She still looks like some princess, in that absurdly rich dress, diamonds all over her hair. 'How are you, love?' he asks softly, 'you look tired.'

And she does, sitting there she seems ready to go to sleep, so vulnerable, he has never seen her this way, his beloved. Still feeling his usual reticence to touch her, it will probably take weeks to fade, he takes her hands and kisses both of them.

She smiles and replies: 'I am very tired right now, but don't worry, if you help me out of this dress and into something more comfortable, and I have the chance to freshen up a little, I will be perfectly fine.'

And with no little trepidation, Darcy helps his beloved to remove her fashionable veiled hat, then all the flowers and diamonds and finally also the bows and pins from her hair, making an invaluable pile on the little table. Then he unhooks the back of the dress, he knows Elizabeth is not used to having a maid and usually wears dresses she can put on herself, this must have felt like being imprisoned all day. And she does heave a sigh of relief when the back is released, saying: 'Do you mind if I undress right here and now? I suppose Jane or someone gave you one of my own dresses to wear tomorrow?'

Does he mind! He cannot think of anything he'd rather do right now than undress her, but he says coolly: 'She did even better, she packed a dressing gown for you. Do you want to wear that, as conciliation for having to walk around in that gilded prison all day?'

'I do want to wear it, Fitzwilliam,' she says, so sweetly, who would have known she is so intensely sweet, 'but beloved, not as conciliation for being uncomfortable today. Your gorgeous suit must have been as uncomfortable, and you're not complaining. I have not had the chance yet to tell you how incredibly, heartbreakingly beautiful you look in it. But it cannot be other than very uncomfortable.'

She is right, it is, the stiff collar chafes the sensitive skin of his throat as it has all day, and his arms cannot move freely at any time. Even his chest feels constricted, fortunately he has his own dressing gown within easy reach.

The top of her dress already unfastened, it takes him a while to find the fastenings on the skirt of the dress, but he manages, and she allows him to lift the whole thing over her head, something she would not have been able to do herself, there is so much fabric, so many pleats and folds of it. As he puts the dress away neatly, she'll be surprised how well he can do that despite employing a valet, she slips the dressing gown over her underwear, and he gets just a single tantalizing glimpse of her bare skin. But by now he's so uncomfortable in his own tight suit he can only think of getting out of his coat and shirt quickly.

He picks up his own dressing gown, and brings it towards her, then stands as patiently as a horse waiting to have its harness removed. As soon as her small hands touch his back, stroking him through his coat, his discomfort instantly vanishes, to be replaced by growing ardour and expectancy of things to come. He quickly sits down for her to help him remove his boots.

To get out of those knee-high boots, Darcy is glad of her help, though he feels a bit ridiculous with a delicate lady in a dressing-gown pulling until they give way. Then he feels ridiculous without them, until he spies Elizabeth looking at him with desire. She wants him as much as he wants her.

Elizabeth knows how to remove a gentleman's coat by now, and she does it very deftly, but not in one flowing movement. No, she lingers in certain spots, feeling his chest under his shirt, stroking his shoulders, his back, his arms. Eventually the coat gets removed, and put away as neatly as the dress, and then she starts on his shirt. It has a lot of buttons, and when she has the top dozen undone, the chafing of the collar stops and he echoes her sigh of relief.

She kisses his neck, and his throat, gently, and says feelingly: 'You poor thing, that must sting, it's all red and sensitive. She drops a few more tender kisses on his poor maltreated skin, and lingers again, relishing his scent, still feeling his chest with his shirt still on. She is making it last, this first time, and to help her do that he kisses her ardently, feeling her body under the thin dressing gown, and smelling her scent with as much pleasure as with which she inhales his.

After the kiss she moves on, more buttons to undo, they take a long time because she kisses every bit of his skin that is exposed, a bit surprised to see hair on his chest, she has never seen a man bared. But she will, soon, the buttons are undone, and she helps him out of the shirt, forgetting to unbutton the cuffs at first but correcting that with her nimble fingers when the narrow cuffs won't go over his hands.

He does not put on the dressing gown yet, let her see him with his chest bared, let her feel the muscles and play with his little chest hairs. She puts away the shirt then strokes him eagerly, front, sides, back, kissing him again, and he stands still, still being unharnessed and enjoying the feeling tremendously, his ardour still rising but not uncomfortably yet, their small intimacies the last few weeks have hardened him quite a bit.

'You're gorgeous,' she remarks, 'so strong, so lean.' And she strokes him as if he truly is a horse, and he almost feels his skin twitch, as a horse's does when touched gently. But then she moves on, kneeling in front of him and unbuttoning his trousers, and he forgets everything as ardour takes him again.

None of the stories he read dealt with a lady of no experience undressing a man, will she be put out with what is carefully hidden down there? Should he do this in private? But she will find out eventually, so what would be the advantage? He cannot decide, so he lets his beloved make the decision, and she isn't planning to stop and let him change by himself.

She moves on steadily, buttons undone she carefully pulls his trousers down, difficult because they are skin-tight, Darcy feeling slightly anxious she might accidentally hurt him if she uses too much force,

(This where I have removed the explicit paragraphs)

His fervour has caused him to exert himself beyond his physical limit, and he is out of breath and his stomach hurts. But he doesn't care about that at all as he lets himself fall on the bed beside her, panting and feeling more than a bit awed at the same time.

She snuggles against him and gives him little kisses, looking at him with a very soft expression, stroking his sweating, heaving body, and she observes: 'You're so smart to read up in situations like these.' Rolling towards her, he strokes her hair and her face, feeling very pleased at her compliment, and sated, very sated and actually, rather sleepy.

He doesn't remember any of those stories warning him he will fall asleep immediately after making love, but there is no help for it now, he's not going to stay awake whatever he tries.

Last thing his conscious thought registers is Elizabeth covering him lovingly with a blanket, and then he's fast asleep.