Nights With Fitzwilliam Darcy

by Sophia Grace

  “And whose fault was it then?” Darcy inquired.

  “Well, yours, of course. I am a lady and I should not act like that if it weren’t for you, Mr. Darcy. How you’ve tricked me into being alone with you here.”

  Elizabeth and Darcy laughed. He cleared his throat. “I guess it was a folly of mine to behave in such a way.”

  “Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can.”

  “And you? Were you happily diverted by my folly?”

  “Very happily,” Elizabeth said, as she reached up on her toes and kissed Mr. Darcy’s cheek. “I daresay we should part to bed perchance another servant should come upon us. My guess is that Caroline Bingley has spies about. I am sure they report back to her anything that happens here.”

  Though he knew Elizabeth was just teasing, he could not help but agree with her. “I have but one more question to ask of you tonight, Miss Bennet, if you would answer it.”

  “Of course, Sir. What is it?”

  “When Bingley throws his ball here at Netherfield, I would like the pleasure of the first two dances with you, if you are willing to accept me.”

  Elizabeth beamed up at him. “Most happily, Sir. I would very much like to dance with you here.”

  Elizabeth curtsied and then walked to the nearest door where she slipped away and out of his reach. Perhaps being a little senseless could be fun. Never in his life would he thought he would conspire to accost a lady in a darkened hall and kiss her, but Miss Elizabeth Bennet did that to him, and he would not have it any other way.

  Chapter 2

  The next morning brought most unwelcome news to Mr. Darcy. The two Bennet sisters had decided on quitting Netherfield. All attempts to catch Elizabeth’s eye was for naught, for she would not look at him. If it weren’t for Mr. Bingley and his sister who violently opposed the idea, though one more truthfully than the other, he would have spoken up himself.

  To go at such a time, when he was just beginning to make his affections known. What could she mean by it? Was this just another way to tease him? Or, had distance made her sorry for her actions on the previous evening?

  Their going was dissuaded till the morrow. A fire burned within Mr. Darcy now. He would not let Elizabeth Bennet quit the house without securing her hand if nothing else. In every way, he schemed to get them alone. But at every turn he was thwarted one way or another, but mostly by Miss Bingley. He thought he might get her alone for a walk, but then they were accosted by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst who consequently took their places next to him with Miss Bennet left out. Though he begged for them to find a wider path so they might walk four across, Elizabeth happily parted from their little party and left Mr. Darcy extremely vexed. It was as if she took delight in seeing the annoyance on his face for she waved at him as the two sisters corralled his arms and forced him forward.

  It wasn’t until later that night when Darcy had resigned himself to solitude by playing billiards and having a drink that he finally did meet with Elizabeth Bennet, but not by his scheming. She walked into the parlor. He placed his stick on the table and bowed.

  She curtsied politely and then moved to remove herself from the room.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I have lost my way. I meant to retire to the drawing room.”

  Mr. Darcy smirked. “You have been here almost a full week. Do not you think I am aware that you know your way around the place well enough now. You knew where I was and so you came in to find me. I am glad for it since you have alluded me so far today.”

  “Again, you would have me thought of as a tease, Mr. Darcy. That is unkind.”

  He moved around the table. “What is unkind is that you continue to control my thoughts though I have yet to see you so much today.”

  “Was not my promise of the first two dances enough? Or is there something else that you wish?”

  Darcy’s eyes raked down Elizabeth’s dress. She was dressed for the evening with her ample décolletage on display. “If I voice my wishes, you will not think me a gentleman.”

  She came forward and put her hand on Darcy’s chest. “Perhaps you will think me less of a lady when I ask you to speak them anyway.”

  “Before I do, I will have you know I plan on having you as my wife, Elizabeth. I am afraid that when my mind is set on a subject, there is no way to dissuade me. I will have you.”

  She looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. “What of my wishes?”

  “You are too kind to jest with me further. I believe they are the same as mine, dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth.”

  Her cheeks colored as she smiled warmly. “They are quite the same, Sir. I assure you.”

  He swallowed the emotion rising inside him. “So, you consent to be my wife then?”

  “With everything in me.”

  He pulled her to him finally and kissed her. His lips moved over hers with a gentle abruptness that made her gasp for breath as soon as he relented. It was not enough for either of them. Mr. Darcy traced the line of Elizabeth’s dress as it fell across her chest. She sighed as her breasts heaved against his touch. He dipped his hand inside and caressed her nipple. Her jaw dropped in awe of the feelings his touch solicited from her. She closed her eyes as he circled his finger around her nipple and then plunged his whole hand inside her dress, cupping her breast in his hand.

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” he said, thumbing her peaked tip. “I cannot tell you how many times I have thought of this.”

  She moaned, her eyes focused on his skin on hers. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, breathless. “Should we not wait?”

  “I feel as if I have waited too long already, dear Elizabeth. I have been fighting my instincts and I only want to treasure you.”

  Her eyelids fluttered closed as his mouth surrounded her breast. With her preoccupied, Mr. Darcy picked her up and placed her on the pool table, her skirts pulled up to her hips.

  “May I?” he asked, fingering the hem of her skirts.

  Elizabeth held her breath. She squeezed her thighs together, a hot need she’d never felt before built there. Unbeknownst to her, a soft moan escaped. His touch was everywhere. On her breast, on her exposed thighs. If she did cry out, it was him who made her do it. He was driving her mad with want.

  Darcy’s eyes rounded and filled with passion. He inched her skirts upward, reveling in the sighs that escaped his beloved’s mouth.

  He returned to his worshipping of her smooth skin. He kissed his way up her leg until the hem of her chemise was swept away and revealed the apex of her thighs. He hesitated then and Elizabeth felt and heard nothing but the rapid beating of her heart and quick succession of her breaths.

  The chill air from the room caressed her most private parts. His hands moved down the inside of her thighs. Heat built and built and when he was just a whisper away from where the inferno rooted itself, she cried out. “Fitzwilliam.”

  He stilled at the use of his name. “Say it again,” he whispered, inching his fingers closer and closer to her center. “I want to hear my name again.”

  She locked eyes with him, “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered.

  In the next moment, his finger was on her, stroking. She cried out in pleasure. Her hips left the billiards table to meet his finger. Elizabeth could hardly think straight. The foreign touch, the feelings she had never felt before swirled inside her. A wetness seeped from within her core, coating Mr. Darcy’s fingers.

  He groaned as his finger stroked her faster. Her face was pure bliss and astonishment, which only enticed him further. He unlaced the back of her dress and then pushed her down across the table, his hands caressing her now naked breasts. He watched her take it all in. Encouraged by her willingness, he bent his head and breathed on her wet center.

  She almost came off the table until his arms were there, pinning her hips down. His lips touched her most intimate spot, and she screamed and bucked. Darcy was abhorrent though. He never let up. His lips seized hold of her an
d suckled. He explored, tasting her as if he were dying of thirst. Every time she thought she couldn’t possibly bear any more, he moved only slightly to discover another part of her he had yet to explore. Her hips came up to meet his mouth as he kissed her for the last time and then stroked her with his tongue. The gentle slide of his hot, wet tongue from back to front sent Elizabeth into a frenzy. She fought for control. “Fitzwilliam, I must… I must…”

  With a pleasure so deep it was almost painful, Elizabeth lost herself in the moment. Her toes curled under as Darcy’s attentiveness quickened. It was almost too much for her to bear. At least, that was what she thought until he focused his attention on the area above her folds. His tongue licked and caressed and drove her body quickly toward the edge.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Oh yes.”

  Sensations collided inside her as a rush of fierce heat swept over her. She grabbed Mr. Darcy’s shoulders to steady herself as she cried out with the barrage of pleasure, wave after wave crashed inside her, lulling her into a deep satisfaction she had never known before.

  As her insides clenched and unclenched, Darcy pulled her closer to the edge of the table and unfastened the fall of his breeches. He left no time wasted as he pushed inside Elizabeth’s still clenching insides. Elizabeth gasped at the new sensation and then moaned as her Darcy pulled away and sunk inside her repeatedly.

  Soon, she met his stroke with her own. He pulled her up and forced her legs on either side of his hips. Elizabeth was a sight to be seen. Her hair was mussed, her gown was half off, and still, he thought her the most beautiful woman he ever beheld.

  “Elizabeth,” he said, sliding inside her, “I did not know loving you would feel like this.”

  He started to ache as an acute longing for release built inside him. He could not get nearly as close as he liked. He aimed to seat himself fully inside her, but something about the way they were positioned prevented him. In a sigh of frustration, he pulled her from the table, turned her around, and bent her over the wood frame of the billiards table.

  He arched his hips upward. Elizabeth squeaked, but once she felt him at her center, she opened her legs further, allowing him room to where she wanted him. He was tentative at first in this new position. With each thrust of his hips, he reached further and further inside Elizabeth, eliciting a gasp or two from her in the process. Her need had returned and she moved with him, aching for him to fill her until his base. She arched her hind end in the air and said, “Please, Fitzwilliam. More.”

  He acquiesced to her command, sheathing himself fully inside her. She shuddered as he groaned. “Oh, Elizabeth.”

  The same fierce wanting returned. He bent over her, reaching around to take her breasts in his hand as he stroked inside her. Elizabeth moved against him, meeting one of Darcy’s hard thrusts. Fitzwilliam roared. His movements became sharper, quicker. Everything was a blind furry of need. The feel of his thick, hard cock rubbing against her insides in all the right ways made her moan with pleasure continually. She reached around and grasped his buttocks and pulled him to her.

  He thrust inside her again and again, completely forgetting himself. His body quaking above her, he trembled, knowing he would soon pour his seed into the woman he loved. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, urging her toward the edge of her own pleasure.

  She pushed back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke. Release was building inside her now, too, she recognized it. “I’m…I’m going to again…”

  Mr. Darcy did not need her to tell him. He felt her insides start to squeeze around him, only fueling his desire to have her. He groaned into her skin in the most delightful way as he slid in and out as fast as his hips could take him. He thrust into her once, twice, three more times before his seed shot through him and into his Elizabeth.

  He lowered his body across hers. Their chests warred for breath as each one was lost to the satiation of pleasure. Within a few moments, Elizabeth stirred and Mr. Darcy was obliged to stand up. When she turned toward him, her eyes were alight with satisfaction. She let her skirts down and adjusted the top of her dress, which he helped her with.

  When they were both adequately clothed to be seen in public, Elizabeth rose on her toes and kissed him. “I do believe we need to add that to your list of follies, Fitzwilliam. But I do not think I should tease you about it in front of Caroline this evening.”

  “There is no way I can fall to nonsense when I have you, my dearest. And you should say whatever you want in front of Miss Bingley. But please do wait until I return to Longbourn with your father’s permission. I long to see her face when we tell her of our news. I should be back by dinner.”

  “You are to go now?” Elizabeth asked.

  He grinned down at her and pinned a piece of hair in place. “I should think it best since we cannot keep our hands off one another. I do hope you will not wish for a long engagement. I am not sure I could bear it.”

  “The sooner we are married the better, Fitzwilliam.”

  His lips pressed against hers, holding all the promises of future enjoyment in matrimony.

  THE END

  Awakened at Pemberley

  A Pride & Prejudice Sensual Retelling

  Chapter 1

  It is a truth universally acknowledged that a lady out of the prime of her youth must be settled however she can. Such was the case for Elizabeth Bennet, who after receiving two offers of marriage during her twenties, had since yet to find any man who would have her. As she grew on in age, the chances of her marrying, let alone marrying well, were quite out of the picture. With an ailing father and with only her youngest sister so disadvantageously married, she tried to make do with what she could.

  As was the case with those women who were not inclined, or refused, to marry when they were younger, Elizabeth began to regret her hasty decision in refusing Mr. Darcy as she got older. Especially since after Lydia ran away with Mr. Wickham, she began to learn which of the two was a true gentleman. Mr. Bennet had to put out a great deal of money for the marriage to take place, and Elizabeth and her sisters’ reputations, and situations, had suffered for it.

  For Lizzy’s part though, she never agonized over her refusal of Mr. Collins. Her and Mrs. Collins were still quite good friends and whenever the latter's husband should come up in letters, she still counted herself quite lucky for staying steadfast in her refusal of him, though Mrs. Bennet still plagued her about it at least once a month. Oh, how much more steady would my nerves be if you had just accepted Mr. Collins when you had the chance, Lizzy? You always were such an ungrateful child. What a great thing to have at least my dear Lydia be married. She did the right thing. She got herself a husband as soon as she could. To have another daughter, who flatly refused the only proposal she is likely to get, I still cannot bear to think of it. And Jane, who is so beautiful for nothing. I do not know what is to become of us all. I swear I do not.

  Elizabeth had long congratulated herself on keeping Mr. Darcy’s proposal to herself during times like these. For though her mother abhorred the man, she was sure she would be chastised greatly for refusing a man of much consequence. No doubt she would hear of her longing to visit her daughter’s great estate at Pemberley, if she only had the sense to accept a man of ten thousand a year, and with a house in London also! At least gentle Jane had never brought the matter up again. She was too good in sparing her sister’s feelings. It was only in times of quiet reflection where Elizabeth thought poorly of her refusal of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Perhaps it was the wisdom that grew with age or the prejudice long since overturned of his behavior toward Mr. Wickham, but much had changed in her heart. Though she hadn’t seen him above three or four years at least, she could still conjure up his face in her mind and think about what could have been.

  One morning whilst Lizzy had just come in from her walk, she found her mother quite agitated. “Lizzy, Lizzy, what do you think? I have just been speaking to my dear sister Mrs. Phillips and she tells me that Mr. Chattham has sent out inquiries for a co
mpanion to tour with him and his children in the north.” A smile overtook her face. “Such a pity that he should be such a young widower.”

  Elizabeth held her tongue and only looked bleakly at her sister, Jane. After Mr. Bingley had quit Netherfield, the Chattham’s had let it. Mrs. Bennet had only begun to find them interesting neighbors since Mrs. Chattham had died during childbirth of their second child. Talk of that family, and consequently the house, had always caused Jane’s cheeks to flush. Jane still felt the loss of Mr. Bingley most acutely. Unfortunately, their mother had strengthened the relationship between their house and Mr. Chattham’s since his wife’s untimely death.

  “It was a great loss for him indeed, Mother. I still think he feels it.”

  “I daresay he does. By the by, I do think he seems almost quite recovered when you are around, though you do not deserve it.”

  “Mother,” Elizabeth started to chastise her.

  “Oh, well. I suppose there is nothing to come of it because I daresay you are determined to have us all die in poverty. I will have you express interest in being the children’s companion though. Why he doesn’t prefer, Jane, I do not know. But anyway, she is to go to my brother Gardiner’s house for a while so it works out for the better. You will go with them to the north, if he accepts the plan.”

  Elizabeth exchanged glances with her father who was pale and gaunt. More wrinkles had lain on his face than she liked to see as of late. He rolled his eyes in joint commiseration with his second daughter. “You might as well try it, Lizzy. It will not be all too bad, for you enjoy the two young ones and you have always wished to see the lake country ever since the Gardiner’s had to cancel their trip with you all those years ago. It might be your only chance to see that part of the countryside.”

  “But why is not their nursemaid joining them, mamma? Mr. Chattham spoke so highly of her the last time we dined together.”