It was time for them to leave the reception. Marianne seemed to be coping fine but Brandon was sure that had she been living on pure nerves the entire day and perhaps event the days leading up to today, she must be close to oblivion. He knew he was. And yet the thought of picking his bride, his wife, up and taking her to the carriage that was to take them to his house where they would finally be alone gave him such a jolt of fresh energy. It had been a long day, but he hoped that a little time of rest would allow them to stretch the day out a little longer once they were on their own.

He took her hand and looked at her, asking with his eyes if she was ready. She smiled and gave the slightest nod and in unison they stood up. Brandon, though not someone who volunteered for public speaking, was for once happy to make his voice heard as he bid goodbyes and their thanks for all those present, announcing their departure. He then, with one swift swoosh, picked his wife up and took off, carrying her - giggling her - to the carriage.

They waved out the windows until they could see anyone anymore, then leaned back in the carriage with a sigh of relief. They were both smiling and simply holding each other's eyes for a while. This was it, they were man and wife and they had just started their journey together.

"You must be tired" he then said. She did look it a little, though she didn't seem too unhappy about it. She smiled at him tenderly.

"Yes, but very happy" she replied. "You must be, too. Edward told me you two were up half the night." She revealed. He laughed.

"Yes, I simply could not sleep in anticipation of this."

"Worries?" she asked.

"Nothing of the sort. Except at a very early hour I did wonder for a moment what would happen to me if you were to suddenly change your mind... But no, in honesty, my butterflies were all to do with this, that we are finally together and we can be open and intimate with each other" he explained. She already knew Edward was prone to a little insomnia and the two men had had a cognac or two to steady their nerves.

Marianne took his hand in hers. What bliss to finally be allowed to do this openly. She had been drawn to him physically for quite some time now, in fact, she had been having many inappropriate thoughts along those lines. What she knew of the physical intimacy between a man and wife intrigued her: it was supposed to be the height of love, the ultimate manifestation of love, yet it was something to be kept hidden. You almost had to pretend no such manifestation and certainly no such yearning or desire existed. She had been aching for his touch by now. Any touch at all. She found that they were stealing little caress already. Brushing past each other at any gatherings, their arms or hands might just slightly touch. They were happy to perform piano duets, as this meant sitting side by side, touching, at the piano forte. They even danced, though the Colonel was known not to be a keen dancer.

Open and intimate. The openness was something they had already managed on he few occasions when they had been able to converse out of earshot from everyone else. There were hardly moments when they were left alone long enough to really talk about things, but on few occasions even that was known to happen. Marianne's mother was their companion but conveniently popped in to some other room or the end of the garden or where ever where she was technically near but obviously letting the sweet pair get to know each other better. Mrs. Dashwood had nothing but the highest regard for Colonel Brandon and she told so as well to anyone who was interested. If ever there was an honorable man, it was Colonel Brandon. What he had done for her family was so much Mrs. Dashwood did not know how to begin to thank him. And so, when it had not been crucial for the sake of public appearances, she had been a rather absent minded minder for her middle daughter, hoping that by allowing Marianne and Colonel Brandon a little privacy would make their bond stronger.

And she was not wrong. Having spent time getting to know each other a bit better through music and literature while Marianne was recovering from her near fatal illness, Marianne had learned to understand that Colonel Brandon was always honest and disliked veiled discourse. He wasn't crass and he was perfectly diplomatic and tactful, but the best way to get on with him was to be present. Mean what you say and simply say what you mean. Marianne appreciated it, as it was her nature as well. Only with that ghastly Willoughby her younger self had no yet learned enough about diplomacy and tact. Through their conversations in the garden of Barton Cottage, they had learned about their mutual affections and respect for each other. Their love. Eventually Brandon had proposed and Marianne had been the happiest person on the planet and accepted with no hesitation.

The couple held each other's eyes a while longer as their journey to Delaford started, and when Brandon felt they were far enough away from prying eyes, he eased himself into the corner more comfortably, reached his arm around Marianne's shoulder and pulled her to rest against him. There was time for a little rest before they'd reach their destination. Neither of them fell asleep, of course. The carriage rocked and there was the noise from the horses, but the main reason for that little sleep evading them was quite simply the excitement of finally being together. Brandon wasn't quite sure how to resist touching her more as he felt her back against his chest. She was so beautiful he thought his heart would burst if he was not allowed to touch her soon. In the past weeks he had been in agony at times to hide his bodily reactions to her nearness. He'd remain sitting at the piano chair after a duet with Marianne simply because his clothing would do little to hide where his body was leading his thoughts. The way Marianne had responded to his little stolen touches lateley, and the way she, too, would take the opportunity of slight physical connection allowed the colonel to wish and hope that he might be in a position of declare his love for her in the strongest way he knew how.

The hand he had reached around her shoulders was caressing her shoulder now with small movements, and his cheek was resting against the top of her head. He could tell that her breathing was rather shallow, and as the evening was growing darker through their journey, he suddenly felt her moving her arm so that she could put her and on his thigh, just above his knee, matching his movements on her shoulder. Reciprocation of the subtlest kind. If only the journey would soon be over he would not waste one moment in carrying her up to their rooms. His housekeeper had been instructed to prepare them for today. She had also been instructed not to bother with a second bed. Brandon was adamant that he and his wife would share their bed. They had waited long enough to be together and would not be parted from each other the only time they would have the luxury of being free with each other, the night.

After some time he saw that they were almost there. He realized his own breathing was on the shallow and rapid side and his heart seemed to be pounding so hard he wondered if Marianne could feel it.

"We're almost at Delaford, dearest. Do you mind if I take you straight upstairs?" He kissed her hair as he said this with a smile, a playful tone in his voice. She let out a little giggle of laughter.

"I think you should take me straight up, Christopher. I have been married for hours already but am yet to be kissed like a newlywed wife." she whispered back, straightening herself up form him and turning to match his gaze. They were both smiling and knew they were thinking the same thing.

Finally the carriage stopped, and Brandon jumped down so that he could catch is beautiful wife in his arms. He carried her over the threshold to his house, but his plans to simply carry her upstairs were thwarted by his entire staff having lined up in the foyer to greet their master and new mistress. Still smiling and laughing, he set her down and they greeted everyone, thanking them for their congratulations. Then, at long last, they took the stairs. At the door to their rooms he picked her up again. This was the one and only time he was going to bring a bride here, he was adamant he would do it right. By the time he set her back down in their rooms he could feel his own excitement struggling against his trousers. How he managed to keep calm in the carriage and before his staff he couldn't tell.

They stood there breathing heavier than usual, speechless and simply staring at each other not quite knowing what to do next. Brandon then took a step closer.

"You wanted to be kissed like a newly wedded wife..." he murmured, then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her to him for a kiss. If Brandon felt somewhat nervous in his anxiousness, all Marianne knew that she wanted to be closer to him, wanted to be kiss and kiss him herself. Yet she didn't quite know what to do. She felt sublime in his embrace and felt the heat and tenderness of his kiss on her lips. Tentatively she responded to his touch and new worlds opened to them both. Marianne did not know where or when she was anymore, she simply wanted to be closer to him, to touch him more and for him to touch her more. Her heart was pounding and she could not begin to comprehend how she was feeling. It was like having butterflies and a source of extreme heat in the very depths of her belly all at once.

To Brandon her response to his kisses was heavenly. There was going to be a true union between this new husband and his wife. They eventually broke for air, and with a somewhat uncertain, trembling voice Marianne thought it best to ask.

"What happens now?"

Brandon had to clear his throat a little as well as he thought how to answer this.

"I would so like to touch you. Like a husband. If you feel it too, I would like to get to the part of our vows where I promised I would worship you... with my body..." his voice was little more than a whisper, but it had the same effect as his voice always did: Marianne's heart did a somersault or two and she had to work to be able to breath again.

"You will tell me what to do, Colonel?" she asked, excited but nervous at the same time.

"Christopher, I think here where there's just us, perhaps I can be Christopher to you..." he suggested. She smiled and nodded, then tiptoed a little, reaching for his lips again with hers. She thought perhaps she was being too forward or bold, but nothing in her husband's demeanor gave her that impression.

"Try not to worry, dearest," he then added between kisses. "We are doing what nature intended. We'll work it all out together."

His kisses became more intense, more demanding. She was happy to give into them and found eventually she was demanding and giving just the same as he was. She had never felt like this before. He pulled her in even tighter and she felt something pressing against her belly and with that he let out a gasp and quiet moan.

"I do believe we are waring too many garments..." he then whispered to her ear between their kisses. He shook his own jacket off, then focused his attention to her clothing. She took his lead and unbuttoned all she could, but in the end he ended up undressing almost all of her, then tucked her into their bed before undressing himself. Marianne felt herself blush and her mouth go dry when she realized he did not even leave his shirt on. She still had something of her undergarments on! He didn't leave her gasping for too long. He slipped between the sheets himself quite quickly and was immediately leaning over Marianne, claiming her lips again. In that brief moment she had seen what it was that had pressed against her before and was now pressing against her thigh. It was both frightening and intriguing. She had worked out that some form of entering would be taking place on her wedding night but his member seemed so big - how would it ever work! And yet she felt her own core catch fire and start burning demandingly.

She felt that warmth return and doubts and fears receding again. The intimacy of the situation made her heart pound and she couldn't think when she would have felt more happy. When his hand went exploring her body it felt like the most natural thing and she wanted more. The exploring hand found the hem of her undergarment and started climbing up on her thing under the hem, creating a sweet ache within her. As his hand came upwards on her body, so did what remained of her clothing.

"I want to see you, Marianne, completely," he whispered. She had seen him, why should he not see her? It was just the two of them behind closed doors. She must stop worrying about modesty in at a time of intimacy. The garments came off. And very soon afterwards his kisses started to trail along her neck down, eventually reaching her breasts. One of his arms supported him so that he wouldn't quite crush her, the other started exploring again. Marianne could do nothing but let out the whimper that had been trying to escape for some time already. Without really knowing what she was doing she pushed her fingers into his hair and caressed his head harder against her bosom. He let out a moan.

Then her whimper became a full moan filled with surprise and, then, pleasure: his hand had slipped between her legs, applying flat pressure on her mound. Marianne thought she was going to burst or combust. Or both.

"So beautiful...sweet..." he was whispering between kisses.

"Christopher... ahh... " she was completely lost for words. When his finger slipped between he folds, touching something so sensitive it made Marianne let out a half stifled cry of wonder, he groaned again. Through these new, joyous and beautiful sensations he was giving her she could feel his member against her thigh again, rubbing against her more intensely now. Her hands had found courage to explore his body as well as far as she was able to reach. The skin on his shoulders was smooth and beautiful, but it was his chest that added to her sense of wonder. It's shape and the hair on it attracted her in some primal way. When he moved up again to claim her lips she took the opportunity to weave her fingers through that hair, thinking how extraordinary this all was. And that was about the last coherent thought she had for a while as his finger entered her.

"Oh darling..." he panted, seeming quite hot and bothered, lips slightly swelled from all kissing. "Dearest Marianne you are so beautiful, exquisite... I'm sorry it will hurt you some at first but I would so like for us to join..." his words were punctuated by his already heavy breathing and the moans and little whelps Marianne could not help but make in rhythm of his finger exploring of her most private parts.

"Yes Christopher..." was all she could sigh in response. She had just enough powers of deduction to understand that he would be replacing his finger with his member. She could feel how wet she was down below. It had started the moment he had made all those butterflies go.

Christopher shifted himself right on top of her, positioning himself between her legs, making her spread them out further. He stopped there and they locked eyes.

"Marianne, gods how I love you" he declared, reaching for her lips once more.

"And I you, Christopher" she replied.

"I'll be as gentle as I can, my love, it shouldn't hurt very long" he explained once more with such compassion in his eyes Marianne started to worry just how much it would hurt. Her dear sister had explained some things, but right now Marianne was convinced it had not been anywhere near enough. Then her resolve returned. It was time she became a woman and not just any woman: Christopher's.

"I want to be yours, Christopher" she said, hoping it would encourage him and would allow him to feel less guilty about what he was doing that he looked right now.

Her request spurred him to action. She suddenly felt him move and rub his hard member against her folds, slipping between them, still rubbing up and down against that sensitive nub she had felt him touch before, sending such waves of pleasure and joy through her entire body. He was sliding up and down easily in the moisture her body provided, but then he reached his hand between them and guided the tip of his member straight to her core. Slowly he started to push in and Marianne had to whinge in pain. Nothing she couldn't handle, but it was there. She was in awe of the mixture of sensation as he, grunting as well, kept pushing himself deeper within her. It was a little painful, yes, but there was also pleasure in it. Eventually Christopher stopped moving. They were both breathing heavily. He kissed her again, her arms were wrapped around his neck and shoulders and they took a long look into each other's eyes again.

"Are you alright, my love?" he whispered his question. The burning pain Marianne had felt was easing and after a little moment she nodded her reply. Christopher flashed her his beautiful smile. The one that not many had seen. The one that did not hold back anything. She smiled as well.

"Hello wife" he said with the sweetest grin she'd ever seen on his face. She let out a little laugh. True, they were now completely married. Then he let out a stifled moan. The pressure was getting too much, he had to move. He moved a little, raised his eyebrows in question and Marianne understood. Yes, her nod replied, she would like him to continue. As he moved back out and in again slowly and gently, Marianne started to fully take in the exquisite sensations he was giving her. She also saw that he was receiving them as well. His face expressed his pleasure so openly. This man truly was so different when they were alone than in larger company!

As his movements became stronger and faster, they were both at the mercy of their senses, groaning, panting, crying out and groaning. Marianne thought she was lifting off from the realm of normal sensations into something big an unknown and she did not want to know how to get back. She was only aware of Christopher, his hands and mouth exploring her a his member sank into her again and again and again. Her body seemed to know how to move with him, make him come in deeper, coax him on by wrapping her legs around his hips. The pace quickened and the noises they made became louder. Marianne started to feel how all those beautiful sensation she had been feeling gained momentum, built pressure inside her and how every stroke of Christopher's member built her up for something she wasn't sure if she could endure.

"Ohh, sweetest, I'm almost there..." he groaned, looked at her and saw she was not excactly coherent. He hoped she was close, too, and slipped his hand between them to press his fingers on her special nub. He was adamant she would get all the pleasure possible out of this, her first time. To think that he was her first, she had wanted him! It didn't take long to bring her over the edge. With two more strokes she practically broke apart underneath him with an uncontrolled wail, her body arching into his, eyes closing, her arms winding around him tighter. And he felt the shocks that ran through her, gripping his member tighter, pulling him over the edge as well within a few more strokes. She was so tight, hot and beautiful Christopher had not realized it could feel so good. He was rather vocal as he came as well, mumbling her name as the pulsing of his cock eventually started to wind down. It was like the roof of his head had blown off and he was no longer capable of coherent thought.

As their breathing started to level, he rolled to his back beside her and pulled her to him. "How I love you, Marianne!" he exclaimed. She felt so good being held by him like this. She couldn't quite understand what just happened, but she knew she would be wanting to experience it again. And not too far in the distant future.