1 To Have His Cake (and Eat It Too) ~ Mr. Darcy's Tale
Page 21
“The pleasure is all mine, I am sure, Mrs. Darcy,” she condescended. “Mr. Darcy, I am here with my parents. They would be honoured to receive you. Oh, and you must bring your lovely wife along as well.”
“Lady Calder, please be assured that should I decide to call upon your parents, it would only be in the company of Mrs. Darcy. Now, I beg you, please pardon us, we must be on our way. Goodbye, Madam,” Darcy said, as he bowed and resumed his walk with Elizabeth on his arm.
Some moments later, Darcy said, “I hope you were not offended by Lady Calder just then, my love.”
“Certainly not... she is much like most of the ladies I have met since my acquaintance with you, sir; although, I wonder at her attitude towards you. Is she another Miss Theresa Rupert?”
“I am afraid so, my love.”
“She seemed particularly familiar. Did you fancy her at all?”
“No, that is to say, no more or no less than any of the other young ladies thrown in my path by my aunt over the years.”
“I imagine I shall have to get used to meeting old rivals.”
“No, not rivals, simply old acquaintances. No one from the past should ever concern you. My heart belongs to you alone. It has always been so, as it will remain forever more,” he whispered in her ear in an openly public display of affection that might have been frowned upon had it been witnessed. Of course, the entire display was completely unobserved.
How advantageous for the Darcys that their beach-front house boasted a covered veranda off the side facing the water. With nothing separating the house and the water except for a long sandy, secluded beach, that night, as well as every other night, the private veranda was the spot of clandestine intimacies most appropriate for a young newly-wed husband and his bride.
~ ~ ~
Sunlight streaming in, Elizabeth awakened in Darcy’s arms. At last, they had returned to Pemberley a fortnight ago. Her early morning rambles had indeed become a thing of the past. She thought nothing of lying awake thus, admiring her husband’s beautiful face. Upon that particular morning, while watching him as he slept, she recalled the night before.
He had made love to her through the night, evoking sensations that kindled her passions like fire, yet soothed her body like a gentle rain. Filling her completely with deep rhythmic thrusts again and again, his only purpose, it had seemed, was to give her pleasure. Darcy had engaged in a soft, familiar calling of her name at his moment of completion that had left her enthralled.
He was an extraordinary lover, she surmised, as generous as he had pledged he would be on the day of their engagement. Despite the independent spirit that defined her, night after night, Elizabeth gave in to the overwhelming sense of impassioned surrender. On the day of their engagement, he had told her that he wanted her, and he needed her. She realised now that she wanted him and needed him just as much. Her husband, her lover, her friend, and confidant… he was everything to her.
Thinking back to the beginning of their marriage, Elizabeth reminisced on the many ways he loved to explore every aspect of her body with his long fingers; sometimes one, more often times two, massaging, gauging—determining whether she was ready. She was always ready. She marvelled at the many parts of her body that he explored with his tongue, light and flickering when she wanted it to be, hard and firm when she needed it to be. Recalling how much he seemed to enjoy it when she paid homage to his broad chest, she wondered if there might be any other part of him that would revel in such treatment. As her fingers traced down along the rippled path of his torso, she considered… he certainly liked it enough when she touched him there.
Darcy thought he was dreaming, but unlike times before, the dream was more vivid, more real. His hands were deeply entwined in long flowing tresses. The sound of soft moans, an exquisite trailing silkiness, and a warm, moist cradling accompanied his own urgent thrusting… most undoubtedly—not a dream.
Some hours later that same morning, it was Darcy’s turn to awaken and admire his wife’s beauty. He caressed her and gently nibbled on her earlobes to rouse her while she feigned sleep to savour the quiet intimacy of the moment as long as possible. Her soft moans gave her away when she could no longer restrain her responses to his ardent attentions.
“Good morning, my beautiful bride, I was beginning to think you might never stir.
“Is it my fault you insist upon interrupting my sleep each night?”
“Indeed, it is entirely your own doing. As passionate as you are, how am I to resist?”
“Far be it from me to argue your point, sir.”
Continuing his tender adulation, he asked, “Then, what shall we do today?”
“To linger here, by your side, and make love all day is my only wish,” she decreed.
“Your wish is my command,” he murmured, eager to fulfil her every desire. Spooned behind her, he flooded sensual kisses to the back of her neck. Once buried inside her, he engaged in a cadence of deep thrusts, altering from gentle and unhurried to powerful and swift, glorious and intense.
Words could not describe this new experience. He was bringing her to the edge repeatedly, easing and then resuming his passionate onslaught. She could take no more. Elizabeth unceremoniously straddled him and took her own pleasure. Satisfied, she affectionately repaid him the same kindness that he had rendered her.
~ ~ ~
The two lovers were on the balcony outside of the master apartment under the moon and the stars, enjoying the warm night air. Darcy wrapped Elizabeth in his loving embrace as he stood behind her, sprinkling light kisses behind her ear and along the back of her neck.
“How are you feeling this evening, Mrs. Darcy?” he murmured affectionately.
“I feel wonderful. I could not wish for a more perfect evening,” she said, as she looked heavenly in admiration of the bright, full moon casting a romantic glow over the pond.
“Surely, there is something I can do to make the evening even more perfect,” he softly spoke, suggestively. “My greatest wish is to please you.”
“Say you love me,” she said blissfully, as she cradled herself closer into his arms.
“You know I do, dearest.”
“Yes, but I want you to say it to me again and again, every day for the rest of our lives.”
Darcy guided his lovely wife around to face him. He lifted her chin to gaze into the eyes of the woman who meant more to him than life itself. He lightly kissed her right cheek and seductively whispered into her ear, ever so subtly, “I love you.”
Darcy returned his gaze into her eyes before lightly kissing her left cheek, and whispered, ever so softly, “I love you.”
He looked into his wife’s eyes once more, placed a light kiss upon the tip of her nose, and whispered, ever so tenderly, “I love you.”
Capturing her amazing eyes once more, he lightly brushed her lips with his fingertips. Before bringing his lips to hers and kissing her passionately, he whispered, ever so ardently, “I love you.”
~ FINIS ~
1 References to the poet and his works are included for entertainment purposes only. No historical accuracy is intended.
Acknowledgements and Credits
§ Jane Austen, “Pride and Prejudice”
§ William Shakespeare, “The Taming of the Shrew”
§ Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Laon and Cythna” and
“The Masque of Anarchy”
§ The JAFF Community
Do not miss the sequel to this engaging and provocative adaptation of
Jane Austen's
Pride and Prejudice
What He Would Not Do
~
Mr. Darcy's Tale Continues
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PODixon.com
Author's Bio
P O Dixon acknowledges arriving rather late in the game. Her initial exposure to Pride and Prejudice was in 2007. After watching the 2005 film at least two times a day for as many weeks, she determined she needed to know much more of the story's
hero. After reading the novel, along with several excellent ‘what-if’ books that told the story from Mr. Darcy’s perspective, she came across a link to the online JAFF community. Her life has never been quite the same.
Discover much more at P O Dixon’s Blogspot
Table of Contents
To Have His Cake (and Eat It Too) ~ Mr. Darcy's Tale
Midpoint