Elizabeth was enthralled by the feeling of power she had as she knelt over her husband. She could feel how much he enjoyed what she was doing. His heart was pounding against her chest and his hands trembled when they touched her. The evidence of his arousal was obvious beneath her and his breath was ragged in her ear as she kissed his jaw and then further down his neck. She felt something overtaking her, she knew not what, but just as she was about to question her actions, Fitzwilliam called her name and captured her lips in another kiss and all rational thought fled as she felt and followed and in turn led her husband.

~

The sun finally down, they sat side by side on the lounge chair, Elizabeth half on his lap so they would both fit. Darcy was nibbling on a biscuit filled with strawberry jam as she sipped a glass of water, half-wondering what had come over her not an hour before.

“Are you well, wife?” he asked gently.

“Quite well, husband. You?” she returned with a smile.

“I am ecstatic,” he said with a seductive smile that had her blushing to the roots of her hair.

Before she could respond, her stomach rumbled and Darcy laughed, suggesting she eat her dessert. The staff had brought a trifle as well as a tray of fruit, cheese, and biscuits. They were very well prepared, these servants.

She smiled and popped a small chunk of cheese in her mouth and washed it down with a sip of wine.

Darcy had a brief image of drinking wine from her mouth and eating off her delectable body—he thought her back might make an especially fine plate—but he shook his mind free and focused on the present.

Elizabeth had requested his presence, then had returned all his passion as she rode him to glory. He had never felt better.

“Dearest?” she asked some time later after they were both full and the tray held nothing but crumbs.

“Yes, love?” he asked, smiling at the endearment.

“Would it be utterly ridiculous to go to bed? It has been a long day and I think I am still tired from the journey.” To illustrate the truth of the matter, she released an enormous yawn and stretched her arms above her head, her robe slithering delicately over her skin.

“Of course not. I’m rather tired myself. Would you like to sleep in your chambers or mine?” he asked, not even considering they might sleep apart.

“I have never slept in a man’s chamber!” she said brightening.

“I should hope not!” he cried in mock indignation.