Nights With Fitzwilliam Darcy

by Sophia Grace

  “Your reputation will be ruined, and your whole family will suffer for it.”

  Darcy knew full well how headstrong Elizabeth could be. She was not likely to be shamed into marrying him. Though, he did not care for Mr. Collins, he saw the truth in his words. His reputation, also, might suffer for it. For Collins was more than likely to tell his aunt about this.

  He looked at Elizabeth, her dress in torn pieces and her hair wild about her. If that were his sister, he would want the man to save her.

  “Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy said, turning toward her. “I would be very happy to accept you as my wife.”

  Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. “You cannot mean that.”

  “I do,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

  She still shook her head even as he tried to assure her. It was not the first time he had thought of Elizabeth in this way. He admired her very much. She was handsome and sensible with a fine mind. He had hoped previously that her lack of fortune would keep him safe from her, but after what had happened, he wanted just the opposite.

  He turned to her family and asked if they might speak a little more privately. Mr. Collins raised his hand to object, but Mr. Bennet demanded he return to the house along with the others. “I will wait here,” Mr. Bennet said, standing right outside the entrance to the house.

  Elizabeth faced Mr. Darcy. “You do not have to do this, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins is out of line and I do not care what he thinks. He has done nothing but vex me since he arrived. He is insufferable.”

  “Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said. Her first name on his lips silenced her. “This may not have been how you imagined receiving an offer of marriage, and indeed, it is not how I intended to ever give an offer of marriage. However, I find myself bound to you. Your opinion of me has changed, has it not? I am not wholly bad as you were once led to believe.”

  “No, Mr. Darcy, I do not think so ill of you as I did. That does not mean that I want an offer from you. I wish to marry for love, not bound by circumstance. Nothing improper occurred between us. You saved me that is all.”

  Mr. Darcy swallowed. If he had more time with Elizabeth, it was possible he could have grown to love her. Even now he liked her above any other woman in his acquaintance. She made him smile and laugh. She had grown in his estimation since they had known each other and would that not mean she would grow further still the more they were around one another? “Please consent to be my wife, Elizabeth.”

  “You are only asking because you are made to. I do not want to be forced upon anyone.”

  Her eyes watered with unshed tears. Mr. Darcy grabbed her hand. “Is that your only objection? That I am made to have you?”

  “That and I do not know my own feelings.” She looked at her father and then moved closer to whisper. “A marriage where there is no love is unacceptable to me.”

  “Then you shall grow to love me.” He squeezed her hand and then approached Mr. Bennet. “I ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, Sir.”

  Mr. Bennet tried to look past him to his daughter, but Mr. Darcy blocked his view. They discussed the details of her fortune and it was settled with no further input from Elizabeth at all. Though she heard everything, she did not object. Mr. Darcy thought either she was coming around to the idea of their marriage, or that she had resigned herself to it. He hoped it was the former.

  After they arranged for the wedding later that week, Jane retrieved Elizabeth and guided her upstairs and away from Mr. Darcy. He watched after the both of them, enthralled in his good fortune.

  Mr. Bennet walked up to him. “I believe I know enough of the men of your character to know you are not likely to do something you do not wish to. I suppose I should thank you for taking my daughter and keeping her reputation as well as my family’s respectability intact.”

  “You do not owe me any pleasantries, Mr. Bennet.”

  Mr. Bennet followed his gaze. “I should warn you she has a strong mind, Darcy. Though you are half in love, it is not likely she will be so easily swayed.”

  Mr. Darcy smiled. “I welcome the opportunity to try.”

  Chapter 4

  Between that terrible day and the wedding, Elizabeth had barely been given a chance to see Mr. Darcy. He dined with them three times, but never had they the chance to be alone together. He told her to pick out whatever wedding clothes she wanted and that he would settle with the shopkeeper. Somehow, and Lizzy suspected Hill’s involvement, Elizabeth found gifts on her pillow at the end of each night from her future husband.

  His behavior toward her had been much the opposite she almost did not know what to think of him. He still suffered when her mother spoke nonsense and when her sisters were silly, but it was not as if Elizabeth did not realize their folly as well. A few times, they even shared exasperated glances with one another.

  One evening after Darcy left, Jane even ventured to say she thought Elizabeth had grown to like Mr. Darcy. Blushing, Elizabeth did not answer right away. After she chose the perfect words, she said, “He told me I should grow to love him. In time, I would not be surprised if I did.”

  Her words were less than she felt. Since the incident and her new knowledge of Mr. Darcy’s true character, she had been thinking back on all their interactions. He may have been proud at the Meryton assembly, but afterward, she fancied, as Charlotte once told her, he had singled her out. He stared at her at Lucas Lodge and even asked her to dance. They shared great conversation at Netherfield when Jane was sick, and of course, there was the Netherfield ball. She was the only woman he danced with outside his own party.

  Perhaps he was not just marrying her out of circumstance. Could he really love her? And if he did now, if she had not fed false information and believed that information for quite some time, perhaps she could love him as well at this very moment. As it was, she listened to the worthless Mr. Wickham, so she had yet to discern her true feelings, though they grew every day.

  The evening before the wedding, Mr. Darcy again dined with them. He sat across from her at the table. “Elizabeth,” he said. “After the wedding tomorrow, I hope to take you to Pemberley where you shall meet my sister.”

  “Oh, how lovely that would be,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “I should like to see your Pemberley very much, Mr. Darcy. When you are quite settled, I hope you will allow your new wife to invite her family for a visit.”

  “Whatever pleases Elizabeth will please me,” Darcy said. Then, returning his attention toward his intended, he said, “I have written to Mr. Bingley about our betrothal, and he wishes us to stop in London before we make our way to Pemberley. Does that plan suit you?”

  Elizabeth, worried what that name would do to her sister, looked over at Jane.

  “After our visit,” Darcy continued, “Bingley has decided to return to Netherfield. He told me he misses the place.” He gave Jane a knowing look.

  Ignoring her mother’s happy exclaims, Elizabeth stared at Mr. Darcy. “I should like that very much.” Afterward, she glanced at Jane who smiled into her dinner plate. Their mother was in raptures for a full five minutes over Mr. Bingley’s coming again. Elizabeth hoped she might see her sister as happy as she sometime in the near future.

  Under the table, Mr. Darcy touched his foot to hers. A warm glow spread through her chest as she stared into his eyes. Tomorrow she would marry the man across from her. She had yet to think too much about her wedding night. Though the specifics were foreign to her, she knew what was expected.

  Her mother had spoken to her but once since her engagement with Mr. Darcy. Her advice was to let Mr. Darcy lay her down whenever he wanted and pray for a son. Since her parents’ relationship, whether it was founded in love or not, did not currently even hold respect between the two, she hesitated to take her mother’s advice to heart. Surely, there was more to marriage than that.

  Chapter 5

  The wedding was all Elizabeth hoped it would be. Her friends and family—all who could attend at such short notice—were there to celebrate with her. They lunched tog
ether, but as soon as the whole affair started, it was over, and Darcy was anxious to set off for London.

  Elizabeth kissed her family goodbye and entered the carriage with her new husband. Her stomach twisted in knots as he took his seat next to her and held her hand.

  Darcy blinked at her. “Finally, we are alone, my love. Are you happy?”

  Elizabeth, struck dumb by the word he had just used to describe her, could only nod.

  “How are you?” he asked. “I have been wanting to ask how you were fairing after the incident on the Meryton Road, but I did not feel proper asking in front of your entire family.”

  That, she could answer without feeling too anxious. “I am well, Mr. Darcy.”

  He smiled and placed a hand on her knee. “I hope you will call me Fitzwilliam now, Elizabeth. I know you will want to take this slow, but I hope at least, that we will not have to be too formal.”

  “No indeed,” she said. “I am just not used to calling you by your first name. Fitzwilliam,” she ventured. “What does Georgiana think of getting a sister so quickly? Does she know of our predicament?”

  Fitzwilliam’s eyebrows furrowed. “I told her the same as I wrote in my letter to Mr. Bingley. That I realized I loved you and could not bear to live without you.”

  “But—”

  “That is the truth of the matter, Elizabeth, whatever you may have talked yourself into believing. I would not have married you unless I wanted to.”

  She blinked at him. His expression was pained. “You are angry with me?” she asked.

  “I only wish you to realize the depth of my feelings for you. I had already admired you since coming to this part of the country, and I may have not always had a design on you, but that does not make me any less happy that we sit together now, husband and wife.”

  He took his hand and laid it on hers. His stare pierced her own and Elizabeth was lost in it. Her heart beat faster the longer they stared and increased further still when he leaned in closer to her. “Elizabeth,” he said. “I should like to kiss you. If that is not agreeable, tell me so at once.” His lips were but a hair’s breath away from hers.

  Her eyes fluttered closed and his soft lips met hers. Foreign though the feeling was, it ignited a passion inside Elizabeth. Her body lit with fire and want. She leaned toward him, deepening the kiss. Fitzwilliam made a sound in the back of this throat that only spurred the intensity of her yearning.

  Soon, her back was to the side of the carriage and Fitzwilliam was half on top of her. Their lips melded to one another, formed perfectly around one another’s. He pulled away for a moment. “I love you, Elizabeth.” Then, his lips were on hers again before she could reply. He forced her mouth open and his tongue swept inside, causing her to jerk and cry out, the noise softened by their shared kiss.

  An ache grew between her legs. It was curious to her, a foreign sensation. Mr. Darcy grazed her hip, and it intensified. It was clear she needed to be touched where she ached. And hurt it did, but not as if she were truly in pain, but in a pleasurable way. She forced her legs together to relieve her suffering, but it did nothing.

  Darcy, noticing her fidgeting, asked, “Are you well?”

  It was torture. Embarrassed as she was, she did not want to tell her husband what had come over her. “It is nothing,” she said.

  He continued to kiss her senseless. The ache grew, and with that, so did her need for relief. She fidgeted again and groaned. Mr. Darcy kissed his way down her neck. “You can tell me if something is the matter, Elizabeth.”

  She breathed in deep. “I find I have an ache.”

  He pulled away at once. “Have I hurt you?”

  “Not from that,” she said. “It is a want I cannot describe. I feel it in my stomach, but mostly…”

  Mr. Darcy’s stare intensified. “I feel the same.” He angled his body toward her and Elizabeth felt a hardness against her thigh.

  “Oh,” she said. The knowledge of his physical reaction to her only made her that much more enthralled.

  “I know how to relieve your suffering, Elizabeth.” His eyelids half-lidded, he stared at her. “Will you let me try?”

  She nodded. The pressure was so intense she would have given into anything at that moment. He pulled at her skirts, revealing her chemise. After moving that out of the way, his finger traced the inside of her leg from her calf to her thigh. He did not stop and the closer he got to the ache between her legs, the more it grew. She cried out and grabbed the side of the carriage. His finger met her wetness there at the apex of her thighs.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and gulped. “Oh,” she said.

  Fitzwilliam traced his finger over every inch until he settled on her core. He pushed his finger inside and rubbed the top of her folds with his thumb. Elizabeth pushed off the seat. “Fitzwilliam,” she cried.

  “Does it please you?” he asked.

  She did not know how to answer. The feeling was lovely, but it only intensified the ache. “Please, Sir. The ache is growing.”

  Mr. Darcy moved to his knees, pulled Elizabeth forward on the seat and placed his head to between her legs. “I will help you, Elizabeth.” His hot breath on her wet folds made her cry out. His tongue tickled her insides, and she stilled. More forceful now, his tongue licked and sucked her. He caressed the area between her legs. Elizabeth’s body shook with tremors. She felt the pressure building and building.

  “More,” she said. “More.”

  Mr. Darcy renewed his attentions. His tongue continued to work her as he used his finger to swirl around the area just above her folds. Her breathing remained heavy, and she feared the driver would hear her, but she could not keep her wits about her.

  He moved her legs further apart and buried his face deeper. Elizabeth cried out. His tongue continued to stroke her and stroke her. Elizabeth could not feel anything but the sensations overtaking her body. He moved his stroking tongue gently upward on a little nub. Elizabeth screamed. His finger entered her and moved in and out in haste. The ache intensified to a fever pitch. She could not help what she did. She placed her hands on Mr. Darcy’s head and pulled him closer to her.

  He groaned, vibrating her sensitive skin, and she fell over a blissful edge. Her body clenching and unclenching around Mr. Darcy’s finger. Little by little, the ache receded, and she was left a tired lump on the carriage seat.

  Mr. Darcy arranged her skirts back to where they had been. He pulled her to her and guided her head toward his shoulder. He kissed her forehead. “Dear, sweet, Elizabeth,” he murmured.

  Chapter 6

  Elizabeth slept most of the way into London. Darcy woke her as they neared the outskirts of town. She looked up at him and blushed. He smiled and caught her face between his hands. “You are the loveliest woman I have ever met. You need not be embarrassed by what happened, Elizabeth. We are husband and wife now.”

  Though he told her differently, she could not help but be a little unsure of her reaction earlier. “I suppose I could have been a little quieter. I fear the driver heard us.”

  “If he did, you can be assured of his discretion.”

  “Are we almost at Mr. Bingley’s?”

  “Mr. Bingley’s? No, we are not staying there. We are staying at Darcy House, Elizabeth. We will visit Mr. Bingley from there in the morning. Then we shall be off to Pemberley. I confess I cannot wait for you to meet my sister. I believe your influence will do her a great deal of good.”

  “Perhaps you think too much of me.”

  “That is not possible. I feel exactly what you deserve.” He stroked her jaw. “Do I ask too much to join you in your chamber this evening, Elizabeth?”

  “I had thought—”

  “I know it is customary, but I do not wish to push you if your feelings for me are uncertain.”

  She reached up and grabbed his wrist. “I would like very much for you to join me in my chamber, Mr. Darcy. I shall be vexed if you do not come.”

  He smiled and pulled her to him for a kiss.

&nb
sp; Darcy House was beautiful and fine. Elizabeth was introduced to the important servants, but her husband did not waste any time, insisting they retire to their rooms, saying they had enjoyed a busy day and the next day would be more than likely as busy. He spoke of it so much that she wondered if he would join her at all that evening.

  However, once she dressed in her chemise and let her hair down, a soft knock sounded on the door. She answered to find him robed in white. His hair was wet and his skin glistened where she could see it. The sight took her breath away.

  As for Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth was having the same effect on him. Her chemise was thin so he could see her fine silhouette underneath. With her round breasts, flat stomach, and her hair wild about her, he did not think he ever saw anyone so beautiful in his life.

  He stalked toward her. Her hands reached up to his chest. His hard muscles clenched under her touch. He embraced her. “Elizabeth, you have not even touched me yet, and I am taken with the same ache you had earlier. I beg you to relieve my suffering.”

  Elizabeth again felt his hardness on her leg. Curious, she trailed her hand down his body and touched his cock. It jumped at her touch and Mr. Darcy groaned. He spread her hand out and wrapped it around him, moving her hands on him. She did as he pleased, then lifted her chin to kiss her husband. He returned her kiss and made her hand work faster upon him. “Elizabeth,” he said, breathless. “I want to experience this with you. I long to feed myself into your depths.”

  He reached down and touched her between her legs. She had already begun to feel the wetness building there. Without waiting for an answer, he scooped her up and laid her on the bed. It was much larger than hers at home. As she reveled in the comfort, he settled over top of her, pulling her chemise up. His cock moved between her legs and immediately, her stomach twisted into knots.