“If you find yourself unable to sleep this evening, I might have another book to recommend.”
“I...I will take that into consideration,” she said and bit her lower lip.
Caroline finished her song in a flurry making all other conversation impossible and rousing Mr. Hurst from his sleep. Caroline then invited Elizabeth to play, and directed his attention away from the goddess at the instrument.
Chapter Four
Elizabeth had remained downstairs longer than she had the night before, but she retired earlier than the rest of the party to see to her sister. Darcy went above with the others and waited until he believed the others to be asleep. He made his way back to the drawing room, surprised to see Elizabeth already present and asleep.
She was on the settee with her slippers off, and her legs curled up beneath her. Her dainty feet peeked out from under her gown. Her face looked peaceful in repose with her dark lashes against her pale skin and her hair unbound.
“Miss Bennet,” he whispered, but she did not stir. “Elizabeth,” he tried again and moved an errant curl that had fallen over her eyes.
His hand hovered over her face for a moment before he gave into temptation and trailed a finger over her soft skin. A small smile formed on Elizabeth’s lips and her eyelashes began to flutter. “Elizabeth,” he breathed again, his breath fanning over her face.
“Darcy,” she murmured and the smile, causing him to suck in a deep breath.
Suddenly, Elizabeth’s eyes flew open and she sat upright so swiftly she nearly knocked Darcy in the head.
“Oh, pardon me!” She exclaimed, her chest heaving from her surprise and Darcy had to force his eyes back to her face.
“I did not mean to startle you,” he replied.
Elizabeth nodded in acceptance and then blushed. “Forgive me. I must look a fright.” She hastily shoved her feet back in her slippers and began to wind up her hair.
Darcy knew she must be wanting the hair pins in his possession. Indeed, it was the reason he gave them both for this meeting, but now he could admit that it most certainly had nothing to do with such fripperies. “You are lovely; enchanting as always.”
Elizabeth gave him a doubtful look.
“Your hair looks,” feels, “as soft as silk. It would be a shame to bind it away.”
“I do enjoy leaving it down in the privacy of my chambers…” she said and chewed on her bottom lip.
God help him, that gesture would be his undoing. He cleared his throat. “It seems you found a volume which provided the desired slumber,” he nodded at the still open book at her side.
“Oh...it was nothing…” She scooted it away, careful to hide its binding.
“Shall we test the matter of persuasion again?” He raised a brow in challenge.
“But this is not an ordinary case between friends.”
“Are we not friends, Elizabeth?” He leaned closer to her, and her lashes fluttered as she tipped up her face. He had every intention of kissing her, thoroughly, before their tete-e-tete this evening was through, but first, the book. At the last moment, he snatched the book and sat back in his chair.
“The Monk!” Elizabeth’s eyes popped open. Anger soon replaced the initial look of confusion as she realized Darcy had the tome. “An accomplished lady, indeed,” he teased. “But you did not find it compelling? You fell asleep.”
Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. “I have read it before. Additionally, I have not slept well the last two nights.”
Darcy gave her a piercing stare. “And how did you find The Monk?”
“Well, I think I understand Ambrosio a bit better now,” she said in growing anger. “After all you have tired of me the way he tired of Matilda.”
“Is that what you think?” Darcy cried in outrage and Elizabeth raised her chin. “I can see that you do!”
Darcy stood and paced before her. “I do not flirt or seduce. I would not know how to court a lady if I wished it. Surely you know that after this evening. I wanted your attention, and instead, you thought I was mocking my best friend.” He sat next to her and reached for her hand. “My attraction to you is well beyond Ambrosio’s reluctant lust for Matilda nor is it corrupt and sinful as his desire for Antonia was.” His chest heaved from the passion of his speech.
“What is it then? Tell me you are not offended by my family. What becomes of us? Am I to imagine you will throw off your family and elope with me as Elvira and the son of the Marquis?”
Darcy stood, tossed the book aside, and then pulled Elizabeth to her feet. “We will write our own story, Elizabeth. I am beholden to no one. I have no vows binding me. I am not a nobleman, and you are not the daughter of a shoemaker!”
She said nothing and Darcy rested his forehead on hers. “You captivate me. You fill me with life...and yes desire, but it is more than that. Tell me what does your imagination now envision? Is it leaping from admiration to love and matrimony?”
Elizabeth slowly shook her head. “What do you want?”
Determining it better to not speak on all he desired, he smiled and folded her arms in a waltz pose. “At the moment, I wish to claim my dance.”
Air left Elizabeth’s lungs as he began to lead her through the steps. “I do not know this dance.” She lowered her voice, “It is scandalous.”
“It is called a waltz. Georgiana’s instructor insists it will soon be the fashion in London, but I will not allow her any other partner but myself.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Such an overprotective brother!”
“I have learned to be,” he said as the visage of the man who had broken his sister’s heart flashed in his mind. Elizabeth squeezed his hand, lightening his mood and he pulled her in closer. “You can see why I would not allow another.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth responded breathlessly. “And has she been your only partner?”
“I want nobody but you in my arms,” he answered neutrally. His inexperience was just as indelicate for a lady, and one he was growing intimate with, as a rake’s proclivities were for a maiden to hear.
Elizabeth ceased moving and looked up at him, emotion glittering in her eyes. “Why did you not kiss me? I desired it.”
Darcy smiled and whispered in her ear, “Sometimes delayed gratification can heighten pleasure.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said as more of an exhale than a reply.
Darcy’s lips kissed just below her ear, and she sagged in his arms as a shudder racked her body. His mouth trailed hot kisses down her neck and followed the line of her bodice. The nearness of our her breasts was nearly more than he could handle. One hand wandered from her waist to her curved hip band back to the side of a breast. Elizabeth inhaled sharply and brought her arms around his neck for balance. As his mouth sought lower, he dragged his tongue across her delectable skin. Elizabeth’s hands gripped his head in place. Understanding she enjoyed his ministrations, he held her to him with an arm around her waist as his other hand grazed the front of her bosom.
“Darcy,” she moaned.
He lifted his head enough to see the passion on her face. “Fitzwilliam, call me Fitzwilliam when I pleasure you.”
He caressed the breast again, allowing his thumb to trail over her nipple.
“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth’s voice took on a pleading quality.
Bringing his lips to her mouth, he stroked her tongue, wishing it were his cock in her hot core instead. His fingers found the skin of her décolletage and slipped below the fabric.
“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth broke the kiss and arched her neck back as she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Do you wish for more, Dearest?” His mouth worshiped the long column of her neck. “You are so soft,” he said between kisses. “Like silk,” his fingers trailed across the expanse of her neckline again. “You are so soft here,” he dipped a finger between her breasts.
“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said again.
“Tell me you want more,” he insisted. “Tell me your skin is dying for my touch, that you feel
aflame.” He laved his tongue where his fingers had previously touched and cupped one breast. “Tell me you have imagined me taking you in my mouth.”
His cock raged against his breeches, but he ignored it. Elizabeth’s hands left his neck, where her fingers had been sending sparks of fire as she stroked his curls and scalp. Darcy drew his head back and something better than Elizabeth confessing her lust occurred. She put both hands on her bodice near her shoulder and then did it on the other side. After a light tug, the bodice fell away, revealing her bare skin. Immediately Darcy’s mouth watered as he took in an eyeful.
“Yes, I have, Fitzwilliam.” She lifted his hand and placed it on a breast.
God in Heaven! His heart nearly exploded in his chest, and he felt sure his cock actually would like he was nothing more than a green boy seeing his first rouged lady all but exposing herself to the public eye. Immediately, the nipple puckered under his touch and as he fondled the smooth skin, he tweaked the tiny pebble.
“Fitzwilliam!” Elizabeth nearly shrieked, leading Darcy to cover her mouth with his.
He stumbled toward the settee so both hands would be free to touch. Elizabeth kissed him with fervor but after a few moments seemed to grow more accustomed to the sensation his touch provoked. Allowing one hand to stroke from her nape to elbow, he kissed down her neck before reverently exploring her succulent breast. His seductive assault ended when he took her ripe nipple in his mouth. Elizabeth tensed but did not scream again. His other hand rewarded her with stroking her other breast. Elizabeth reclined, granting him greater access.
Darcy now lay partially over Elizabeth, and every inch of his body demanded he complete the session in what would bring him the greatest pleasure. Hanging on by a thread, Darcy resisted, not sure how to stop the desire boiling in his skin. Perspiration pebbled on his brow as he clung to control. Exchanging breasts, his lips lapped on its beautiful sister.
“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth moaned low.
Darcy kneaded a breast while his teeth grazed the nipple of the other. He laved his tongue to soothe it, and Elizabeth suddenly went stiff then a shudder racked her whole body as her breaths came in shorter pants. Lifting his head in concern, he saw she had flushed from hairline to navel. With her hair tumbled around her and her dress askew, he had never seen a more beautiful sight. She let out a hysterical laugh and brought a hand to her head.
“Lud, Fitzwilliam, do not ask me what I am thinking now.”
“And what is that?” He rested his chin between her bountiful breasts and smiled at her teasing. This is what he loved about her.
Love? Perhaps if he were in any other position, the thought would have brought panic. Now, it brought only determination but the time for that would be later.
“That you should do that again,” she said wickedly with a dreamy smile.
“Woman,” he groaned as his cock surged again, “it would kill me.”
“I see we have written a new story as you said. It seems you are claiming to die from pleasure rather than the absence of it.” Her eyes shined in mirth.
“Giving you pleasure has been my greatest honor, but my own remains unfulfilled.” Darcy fought to keep a pleading or mournful tone from his voice. “We have risked enough,” he said and pulled her to a sitting position.
Awareness seemed to finally occur to Elizabeth, and she blushed as she hastily affixed her bodice. “I should check on Jane.”
“You should rest, Elizabeth,” he said. “Please do not think I was criticizing you or am disgusted.” He kissed the hand he still held. “I respect you and fear my own self-control to leave your virtue intact. You bewitch me, not with spells or seductive speeches of passion but with your generosity, passion, and humor. A man can only resist so much.”
Elizabeth bit her lower lip, and he pulled her to her feet. “You should leave now, Elizabeth.”
“And if I do not wish to?” she asked.
Darcy pulled her to him again and made love to her mouth once more. When they pulled back to catch their breath, Elizabeth looked at him dazedly. “I think I see your point.”
She retrieved her book from the settee and walked to the door on shaky legs. Darcy watched her leave knowing his cock cried tears at her departure. “Soon,” he promised to his ready appendage.
Seeing a ruined pen in the rubbish bin brought to mind Caroline’s offer to mend his “pen.” His cock shriveled at the thought, and after a few more deep breaths, Darcy returned to his chamber.
Chapter Five
The following morning, Elizabeth rose early to check on Jane. The night before the door had again been locked. In ordinary circumstances, Elizabeth would question her sister about the matter, but a far more pressing concern was her growing attraction to Darcy. An attraction that despite his shockingly pretty words, she doubted could go anywhere honorable. And yet...she had no strength to resist what they both desired.
After breakfast, in which Elizabeth studiously avoided Darcy’s eyes, she chose to go on a long walk. Using the time to reflect she wondered what madness had possessed her since she first met the gentleman. He had always excited her notice and rose passionate feelings in her. She had never supposed he found her attractive or admired her. She had been confident he despised her. After their first encounter, she continued to have reservations about the sincerity of his affections. She expected that he meant to mock her. Powerful men like him trifled with ladies.
Last night, however, he appeared far too genuine to be such a rogue. She all but begged for him to take her virtue and he honorably resisted. Darcy was not the sort of man a lady could come to know well in chaperoned drawing rooms. Having observed Darcy now without others around, she believed something about company made him nervous which manifested in coldness and a taciturn demeanor.
Elizabeth supposed other ladies might learn a gentleman’s character and honor through conversation confined to the weather and their neighbors. She would ask insipid questions, and the man would have equally meaningless but charmingly phrased answers. Those ladies would never know the heat of their lovers’ touch or the taste of their mouth. They would never feel as though their body were aflame. They would also never have the curiosity to extend such pleasure in return. No, on the whole, Elizabeth would not wish to have that sort of tedious courtship. Of course, she did not know that exchanging kisses in a dark drawing room was considered courtship or what Darcy’s intentions were. Nor did she know what her intentions were.
As Elizabeth rounded the corner in the shrubbery, she collided with Darcy.
“Elizabeth!” he exclaimed as he caught her by the elbows. “Have I hurt you?”
“No, no. I am well,” she said laughingly.
“Shhh. Not too loud!” He ducked and glanced over his shoulder then tugged Elizabeth further into the shrubbery.
“Are you hiding from someone?” Elizabeth asked and covered her mouth to muffle further laughter.
“That woman will not take a hint.”
Elizabeth eyed him dubiously. “Just when do you believe you made your position so clear? Last night when you requested she entertain you on the pianoforte?”
Darcy gaped at her. “I desired to speak with you privately. It could only be done if she was occupied.”
“That will not do,” she shook her head. “How long have you known Mr. Bingley?”
“We met at Eton in Bingley’s first year.”
“So you have been friends for over ten years. Has she had her cap set at you during all that time?”
Darcy shrugged. “I would not know. I already told you I am no good with courtship.”
“A man with no talent for courtship should make doubly clear that he is not interested in a lady. You would not wish to raise hopes.” She looked meaningfully at him, hoping he would understand that she no longer meant Caroline and instead meant herself.
“Yes! Exactly so and I believe you heard some rather rude comments I made in Meryton in that effort.” He peered around the hedge.
She felt as tho
ugh he had slapped her. “Indeed.” Yes, he had made his opinion of her clear those weeks ago, and now he made his sentiments equally clear despite his kissing.
“Elizabeth?” Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. “You have grown quiet and pale. What did I say?”
Before she could speak, they heard the shrill voices of Caroline and Mrs. Hurst. Darcy pulled her further back and settled them on the grass. “Let go!” He clamped a warm hand over her mouth and settled her between the spread of his legs.
“Can you believe the attentions Darcy is paying Eliza?” Caroline sneered.
“I am far more concerned about Charles and Jane,” Mrs. Hurst said.
“Oh, dearest you know how often he falls in love,” Caroline said. “Soon we will find a reason for him to journey to London and once he is there, some other pretty lady will catch his eye. No, I am far more concerned about Darcy.”
“He would never give up his pride or forget his family,” her sister disagreed. “I have been telling you for years your wishes were hopeless and if he does not fall prey to your charms, he is quite safe from Eliza Bennet.”
Elizabeth gasped against Darcy’s hand, and he clutched her tighter. The ladies walked on and out of earshot. Darcy released Elizabeth’s mouth but still held her tight. He turned her chin to look at him, and hot tears stung her eyes.
She could not breathe. She did not know her heart could hurt so much. When had she begun to hope? When had she believed he might love her? And when had she fallen for him? Foolish, foolish girl!
“Elizabeth, look at me.”
She shook her head. She refused to see the rejection in his eyes.
“Look at me,” he said again and kissed her cheek. “Shall I tell you what my imagination has conjured?” he whispered in her ear.
“I think of you round with my child.” Darcy kissed her neck just below her lobe, and she hated the weakness in her that made her body long for more, particularly since his words proved his foul intents.
“Please stop,” she said but did not move away from him.
Darcy and Elizabeth_Nights at Netherfield Page 3