Chances Come

by Ney Mitch

  “I never meant to torture you.”

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “Only if you tell me first. I have told you already.”

  “I love you. Now tell me that you love me once more.”

  “I do love you. More than almost anything I ever loved in life is how much I love you now.”

  With an alacrity that I never knew he possessed, Darcy closed the space in between us, grabbed me and kissed me passionately.

  Joy!

  What fire was within my blood and ears!

  What light was light until that moment? Had I seen life and experienced it ever to its fullest before?

  I cannot say that I had. My heart was bursting apart, my mind was gone, and my spirit felt itself rise in every direction but not remain on the ground.

  To be kissing the man that I loved so terribly. Words, words, words, are not meant to fully describe that moment. For no words ever could.

  I was myself.

  Now, I was even more complete than I had ever been.

  His touch was strong. His kiss was real. And I was myself.

  His hands were protective around me. His feeling was sincere. And I was still myself.

  His mind was connected to mine. His body was pressed against my flesh and now connected with my soul. And I was still myself.

  But now, I was also his. And he was also mine.

  My identity was once so very singular. And yet, in that moment, as we kissed, it became plural. Now, we were two, becoming one.

  From singular to plural.

  And plural, back to singular.

  This was love!

  Our kiss was hard, strong, and deep. When his lips finally released mine, I let out a small cry.

  “Have I hurt you?” His concern was quick and real.

  “No,” I gasped, feeling my eyes swell with this emotion. “How long did you love me, and I was left to believe I had no chance in winning you?”

  “Since we danced at Netherfield,” he responded. “I knew that you were the woman that I could not be without.”

  Shocked and surprised, I asked, “Since then?”

  “Yes. Perhaps even before it. All this time, I knew that I loved you.”

  “You knew, even before I did.” I sighed, my eyes swelled with the emotion and I knew they were tears of joy. “You knew that I would never be happier in any other way than in being next to you? How wise. How terribly wise.”

  “Why are you about to weep?”

  “Because I am happy. Because I love you.”

  “Then marry me,” he urged. “What courtship do we need, my beautiful friend? All we have done since the day we met was court each other? We tormented each other, provoked each other, and then at last, chose each other. That is love! Love is not always pretty. Love is real and it hurts! Please, Elizabeth, for me. And for yourself. Do not make me suffer a courtship. Please let me be your husband already and be my wife!”

  “You would marry me now?”

  “I would be married to you always.”

  Once more, he closed the gap between us and kissed me.

  As we kissed, I felt the whole world fade around us, inch by inch and yard by yard. Life, as I had known it, had seemed to shed away into a series of moments gone past and yet, also in preparation. Had all the trial and tribulations of life been preparing me for this moment, then it had done its duty quite well.

  Life, in all its succession of busy nothings that occurred, and all the internal confusion and conflicts that filled the moments in between all those nothings, seemed to all culminate in that moment. My fights, my struggles, be they little in the eyes of the greatness of the world, seemed to prepare me for this; for the most dangerous and the most frightening thing I could be prepared for. It all had prepared me to be brave enough for love.

  Love, by its very definition, could only have caused strain and crisis. In truth, perhaps once I was even an enemy of romantic love at some time or another. For love seemed to only bring pain, and the more that I had seen of the world, the more that I had been dissatisfied with it. Love was a part of the very mixture that I found deadly poisonous to the road to happiness. It had brought my parents little joy. It had brought Jane potential heartache, and so I had never wished for it to consume me. Yet, here I was, laying myself open to the veracity of affection and the vulnerabilities that come with the emotion that I never actively sought after… until him. Until Mr. Darcy.

  His hands ran along my cheek as we kissed, and I felt lost into a blissful oblivion. Raised on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips against his even more deeply, surprisingly unafraid of our actions. In truth, everything just felt so natural in that instant. I could not think!

  I could only move in the same manner as he, desiring to be occupied. I did not tell my hands to press themselves against his chest, yet they did so. I did not order my body to push itself against him, yet it pressed so deeply against his, that I felt as if we would melt into one another.

  Slowly, I felt his hand rise down to my shoulders and pressed my arms desperately, trying to grab ahold of me tightly. Suddenly, he removed his lips from mine and looked into my eyes.

  “Did I do that well?” I asked. “You must understand. This was my first time.”

  “It was perfect, but if you wouldn’t mind…” he raised his hand to my hair and began to undo the pins and ribbons. Slowly, my curls fell down along my shoulders and he ran his hands through them.

  “Sometimes,” I confessed, “I wonder why we must always have our hair up.”

  “So do I. But, when it comes down, it is such a special occasion that it makes it worth the wait. He pressed his face against mine as he continued to run my hands through his hair. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

  “And I love you.”

  “How long have you loved me?”

  “For a long time now. And you promise to marry me.”

  “Of course, I will,” I rushed out. “Why would I not!”

  He kissed my lips once more and I pressed my hands against his chest.

  There was strength to his form and his person that I could never fully appreciate until this moment. Now, being against him, I wondered how I had never noticed the beauty of his form before.

  Next, he slowly, lowered his lips down my neck and gently caressed the curves of my throat with his kiss. My body shuddered under the feel of it. It was such a small and gentle thing, and yet how could it have such a grand effect upon me?

  I was lost, and my mind and self-control felt as if they had fallen from out of me, and sunk into the floor, where it would elude me from thenceforth.

  Buckling under the overwhelming sensation of his attentions, I lost the strength in my legs and I sunk backwards onto his desk.

  His desperate feelings mistook my actions for an indication of a desire to go further. Swiftly, he wrapped my legs around his body, and he pressed his body against mine and kissed my lips once more.

  I should have felt that we were incorrect to do this all… yet I did not. Oh, how the power of emotion is the enemy of logic and rationality. Not one second could I gather my sense and refuse to allow such liberties, but I could not find the voice or the will to deny him this. Perhaps it was because, in the depths of my soul… I had wanted this all along. And I had simply not known that I had until now. Until him.

  Acting on instinct and impulse, I ran my hands through his hair as he continued to kiss me. After our caresses intensified, he lowered his lips down my neck, and then he reached the top of my gown. I looked down at him, wishing that I had the will to speak or stop him, but all that I could do was watch in wonder and joy as he yanked my gown down, pushing it off my shoulders and rolling it down to my hips. He even pulled away at my chemise and stays and forced them downwards, until my breasts lay revealed and bare before him.

  “Elizabeth!” He gasped before he closed his mouth around one. I let out a cry of joy as I felt his lips envelop my breast, his appetite for me roaring within him. He ran his fingers over the nipple of my oth
er breast, gently pinching it between his fingers. I let my head roll on the desk, my eyes closed, and I gave into the waves of rapture that seemed to encase us both.

  My modesty had left me, never to be returned.

  And all want of propriety and restraint felt as if they were too far behind him and me. I should have hated myself, but I only desired him to continue. I wanted his lips to remain there, for his hands to continue caressing my thighs.

  Yet, I was suddenly yanked from our happy situation when he suddenly raised his body off mine.

  “The door!” With a burst of swift action, he opened a drawer to his desk, grabbed a key, dashed to the door and he locked it.

  His sudden removal of his body from off my person was enough to push me out of my state of revelry. I had only one minute to remember myself, but I did in fact regain my sense. Yet, the next minute would prove my sense and reason to be a temporary and fleeting thing…

  “Darcy,” I said, my voice trembling, trying to pull my gown up over my shoulders.

  “Fitzwilliam,” he urged, serious and his voice deep with an authority that would brook no refusal. “You are my wife now, so you will call me Fitzwilliam. I will not allow you to call me anything else from this moment onward.”

  My breath escaped me. As he stared at me, his face was so serious, his look so urgent, that I felt as if he was casting a spell upon me.

  “But I am not your wife, yet, and I forgot myself.”

  “Elizabeth,” he began, his face becoming suddenly pitiable. “Are you about to turn away from me?”

  “I forgot myself.”

  “No, you did not. You remembered that you love me and that I am now the one that you should love.”

  “But we are not man and wife in the eyes of God yet.”

  “Then you do not love me as much as you love our lord? Is that what you are about to tell me?”

  He looked so hurt by my suddenly trying to regain modesty between us. And the devil! It was working on me. I could not believe it! It was working!

  “I do not want to hurt you, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Call me by my name.”

  “Fitzwilliam.”

  “There, you called me by my name. Therefore, you are my wife!”

  “Then as your wife, I have to abide by the rules of our lives.”

  “You proposed to me; you have breached propriety already and because of it, you reached me. What does falling back into propriety do for us now? Propriety has only been the means through which we often were separated. Do not separate us now, Elizabeth. I yearn for you, and I am hurt now.”

  “You devil!” I gasped. “You know that I have a hard time resisting you, don’t you?”

  “Precisely. I know that you long for me now as much as I long for you. And I know your courage. It is that courage for which now you shall make me your husband.”

  Pressing his advantage, he closed the space around us once more. Kissing me passionately, I felt his presence sink deep into my being and his persuasion was crippling. He knew his power over me! Damn the man.

  I did long for him. I did want him. And I knew that I had nothing to fear. He was not the sort of man who would take liberties and then revoke the promise that he made. Darcy was truth. He despised any sort of disguise. He said what he meant and always meant as he said. All his actions till this point did indicate a man who had taken steps to reach me.

  We both had been doing all in our power to close the gap between our single states and find each other.

  He was correct, therefore. He and I were man and wife, even though not in the eyes of god. But god! In this moment, I began to wonder if I did indeed love him more than our lord. Did I cherish his influence more than the powers of heaven? As he kissed me, I cared not for any other besides him. I did not seem to fear any punishment in the world beyond. I did not fear the wrath of heaven! I did not fear the price for the crime that I was about to commit. I was willing to risk everything for this moment of joy.

  Thank all that I had risked it all with the one man that there was no risk involved. Darcy had chosen me, and I knew that he would choose me from that moment onward. Shame be damned!

  I chose no shame.

  I chose no guilt.

  I would choose him. And leave all the rest behind.

  “I love you,” I proclaimed.

  “And I love you,” he rushed out. “You must accept me, Elizabeth. Please accept me.”

  His heartfelt admission warmed me even more. “I accept you. And I am ready for you.”

  He pulled me from off the desk, turned me around and undid the back of my gown. Next, I unfastened my stays from the front and let it slip to the floor. As I did so, he removed his jacket and I heard him yank the buttons off his vest.

  Still without looking at him, I removed my chemise and therefore I now wore nothing except for my stockings that were still fastened under my knees with some garters. Then I stood there, facing the wall behind his desk. In that moment, I was too afraid to look at him, for fear of how he would view my body.

  Suddenly, I heard no movement behind me.

  “Elizabeth, turn around and look at me,” he ordered, his voice soft.

  “I am afraid,” I whispered.

  “Why?”

  “Because I fear that you shall find me to be not to your liking.”

  “Do not ever think so.”

  I felt his hands on my hips, then he pressed his body against the back of mine and kissed my neck.

  “Kiss me, my love,” he insisted. I turned my head and kissed his lips, my eyes still closed. As I did so, he ran his hands along my stomach, back up to my breasts and massaged them with his hands. Shivers started at my neck and swiftly sped over my body to places I had not thought of before. I rolled my head as he kissed the back of my neck.

  “My beautiful wife,” he proclaimed, “now turn and look at me.”

  I turned and saw that he as well was as nude as I. There we were, bare and before each other.

  “You are beautiful,” I professed, amazed at the sight of him. I ran my hands down his chest, but I still did not look further down yet.

  “What am I to do, Fitzwilliam?” I asked, willing to use his first name. “I do not know what to do at all.”

  “That is no imperfection on your part,” he responded. “When it is one’s first time, you can never be fully prepared. Time will be your guide. And so shall I.”

  He lifted me up and laid me down on his sofa With my mind lost, I felt the air around us, and the cushions under me felt so lush and so welcome. Everything outside of the office seemed to fade away, and there was no one left but him and myself. There was no time, or no other place, but him.

  Lowering his head once more, he placed his lips on my breasts and ran his tongue over each of them, while also cupping his hands around them.

  Why did I feel such beauty at that moment? For indeed, beautiful was what it could only be described as. Continuously, he kissed my nipples and I had to cover my mouth from the exclamations that felt as if they were about to erupt from me. The feeling of his lips on my nipples was intoxicating, astounding, and I find that there was no other form of happiness that could eclipse this. How silly of me to believe such a thing, for he was just beginning.

  Slowly, he abandoned kissing my breasts and then he moved his kiss down my stomach, bestowing many kisses upon it. Oh! The pleasure! The passion!

  “I love you,” I gasped, unable to control my speech. “Forgive me, I keep saying that.”

  “I love you saying it.” He kissed my thighs. My thighs! Never had I imagined the feeling of his lips on the flesh of my inner thighs.

  “For so long, I worried that you never would. Tell me that you are enjoying yourself. I want your first time to be special. I want to know that you enjoy this.”

  “I do. I promise, I enjoy you terribly.” I was becoming impatient for the man to continue!

  “You make me happy now.”

  Suddenly, he lowered his head between my thighs, and I
felt his lips press upon me.

  Once more, I covered my mouth from the shock of feeling something so very overwhelming. Steadily Darcy’s lips delved further within me. Inch by inch, I felt his tongue and teeth penetrate into the very depths of myself. He rolled his lips along the outside and then would deepen his kiss once more, and I became his completely. Oh, god, oh, god, what bliss!

  Gathering the strength, despite that my body and soul were weakened under the power of his touch, I raised my head and looked down at him. For reasons that I could not explain, I wished to see him as he continued to teach me all the ways in which a man could love a woman.

  And the sight of him, his strong form leaning over me, with my legs wrapped around his neck, and his lips moving continuously over my most intimate of places. The sight of him bringing me such ecstasy increased my desire for him even more. I closed my eyes again, feeling the potency of his caresses.

  Repeatedly, he remained in this fashion, with my thighs pressed around his head as he drove his tongue and lips further within me.

  I felt a strange wave of power rush through me, as if I was about to burst from all of his attentions. I could not explain it, but I felt myself on the verge of exploding.

  Suddenly, he raised his head and stood there.

  “I feel as if you are now prepared for it,” he announced.

  Wait. What? “Ready for what?”

  “For the best part of it. I did not attempt it before,” he continued, wrapping my legs around his waist, “because I worried that your body was not wet enough. But I have made you so. I do not want this to hurt you, but it will. I just wished to do the best I could to prepare you for it.”

  Despite not being told much about this form of intimacy, I knew to what he was referring. It all was coming so naturally.

  “I am ready for you,” were all the words that I could voice, but that was enough.

  Pressing his body against mine, I felt him insert himself within me.

  The pain was excruciating, and then I felt him push through my final layer before I felt my body fully accept him within me.

  “How are you, my love?” he asked.

  “I am here,” I assured him, lying about the pain, “I am still here with you.”