by Sophia Grace
His thumbed played with her nub and she squeezed her eyes closed, concentrating on the feeling overwhelming her, reveling in the way her body reacted to his touch. She could feel her body reaching toward something and she wanted to know what it was. She waded through wave after wave of pleasure until she reached the top. For one blissful moment, there was a pause of supreme and absolute pleasure and then she crashed, crashed, crashed. Sensations coursed through her limbs as her pussy clamped around his tongue. Mr. Darcy moaned, his tongue still working inside her.
Caught up in the feelings, she hadn’t noticed she was making any noise until her voice was raw and came to a raspy halt. The scream had come from a deeper place inside her, one of primal instead of sensible.
Mr. Darcy looked up, his gaze searing into hers. Elizabeth blinked. In its intensity, in its branding, she realized she was a changed woman, and she wanted all of Mr. Darcy.
Chapter 5
Her passionate cries had been like balm to his wounds. He drank her up. No way would he let her go now. Mr. Collins did not deserve her. It was possible he didn’t deserve her himself, but in this instance, he would give into his selfishness.
Sweat dotted her brow as she looked up at him and once again he saw the perfection of her body. He rose, took his jacket off, and then moved her length-wise across the small piece of furniture before settling himself on top of her. He was as stiff as a tree trunk, his need pulsing inside him. Elizabeth’s eyes rounded as he settled himself between her legs. Though everything in him was begging to push himself inside her and release the tension she had driven him to, he paused and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
The sweet contentment in her face shone through. If she thought he was giving her up after this, she would soon see the real Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy come out. She was his now.
He angled his hips forward, slipping inside her wetness. Her eyes rounded and he settled until she looked comfortable with the feeling of him inside her. She gave a slight nod and he pushed forward further. This time, she cringed, but grabbed onto his hips before he could retreat. He wanted to secure her, not hurt her. “Elizabeth…?”
She breathed in deep. “I want you,” she said. “Please.”
That was all he needed to hear. He pushed all the way inside her tight entrance until he was fully seated. She cried out in pain, a sound that tore at his heart strings. He kissed her forehead. “Shh,” he soothed her. “That is all of me.” He kissed her nose, forgetting for one moment the need to move inside her. If he overwhelmed her with his vigorous feelings, she may not want him after this, and that was the exact opposite of his objective.
He waited until a smile returned to her face. She reached up and ran a hand through his hair. She dropped it down to his shoulder and then further to his chest. She swallowed and moved her hips up. “I am ready.”
Darcy bit back a groan, but took her invitation for what it was. He began to move slowly inside her, retreating a little and then pushing inside once more until the untethered passion began to take her over once again. Relief swept through him as she moved her hips to match his strokes. He buried himself deeper and deeper until she moaned his name over and over again. He lost himself in the wet slick of her insides, in the feel of her hard nipple on his tongue as he tasted her again.
The need in him rose. His movements became quick and short as he thrust inside her. He buried his face in her neck as she clutched his backside, pulling him forward with as much force as he used to enter her. He kissed her neck before putting all his weight on his hands and slamming the last of his release into his dear, sweet Elizabeth. He cried out as he emptied his seed inside her, his hips still moving as she guided him in slower and slower. Still reeling from his own release, he watched as her eyes widened and the next thing he knew, she clamped around his cock, milking every last ounce of his seed from him. A shudder overtook his body as she moaned. His hands gave out and he collapsed on top of her, each of them warring for their next breath.
When he could think clearly again, he smiled to himself, dreaming about all the evenings he would spend like this in her embrace. He clutched her tightly to him and moved them to their sides. Her hair had fallen out, little flowers jutted out from her hair with no rhyme or reason. He chuckled and plucked one of them out and threw it to the ground. He searched her face. “You are so beautiful, Elizabeth.”
Her cheeks flushed, bringing on another round of laughter from him. They had just done the most intimate thing they could with one another. He took her virtue, yet she should blush at the mention of her beauty?
The music, which had been silent to him throughout their encounter, once again drifted to his ears. He had received a far better prize than the first two dances with Miss Bennet, he mused. He was able to receive her fully.
He stroked her hair and her eyes drifted shut. “Miss Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?”
“I know we shall have to get dressed soon. We do not want to be missed at the ball for too long.”
Her eyes widened and she tried to stand, but he held her in place.
“Not yet. I have locked the door. No one will come in here. We are safe for now.”
“Safe?” Tears glistened in her eyes as she shook her head. “I must return to Mr. Collins.”
“No.” He rose up, propping his body up with his elbow. “I am to go to Mr. Collins. I will arrange everything. I told you there was another path and this is it. You are mine, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and mine alone. I promise you.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She looked at him, questions in her eyes. “But—”
He shook his head. “There is nothing to question. I will arrange it all. You will see. I will prove my affection for you if what we have just done is not enough for you. You will be free from him.”
He lifted himself from the small settee and began to put his clothes back on. He worked in silence and then helped with hers, not denying himself a small taste every now and then. When her gown was back on, the only thing left to do was her hair. Not trusting his skills on that front, he found a mirror in the room and placed her in front of it. “You will have to see what you can do with that.”
He pulled his jacket on straighter over his shoulders. She eyed him curiously. “What are you going to do?”
He tied his cravat. “I am going to secure our future.”
He left her in the room and went in search of the ninny Mr. Collins, who was all too eager to be pulled aside by Mr. Darcy. With a stern look, he took the opportunity to strongly discourage the match between Elizabeth Bennet and himself. It may have been a little beneath him to use his aunt in the process of making sure Mr. Collins would break their engagement off, but as long as Elizabeth was free, he did not care what tactic he used. She would be his wife.
After Mr. Collins groveled at his feet with forgiveness for choosing such an inferior woman, Mr. Darcy left in search of Mr. Bennet. He was a little harder to persuade, but not too much. Darcy told him of Mr. Collins’s change of heart and then told him his designs for Elizabeth, reinforcing that he had enough money to help him out of any financial problems he had. Within the half hour, he marched back into the small room at Netherfield with Mr. Bennet’s approval.
Elizabeth sat in front of the mirror, pinning the last flower into place. She turned toward him and he sighed. “Well, my little, obstinate girl, I have bad news and good news. Mr. Collins no longer wants you. I told him Lady Catherine would not approve. I am sorry to say how easily he gave you up.” He strode toward her, taking her hand in his. “I will not so easily do so. I received permission from your father and now I must hear it from you, Elizabeth. I love you with everything in me. I could not bear to see you marry that man who would crush your spirit. I will spend my life making you happy and secure if you will only consent to be my wife.”
The purest smile Mr. Darcy had ever seen stretched Elizabeth’s lips. She flung her arms around him. “Yes. Yes, Mr. Darcy. I love you.”
/> He tilted her head back and sealed their promise with a kiss that neither one of them would soon forget. He was hers, and she was his. Forever.
THE END
A Peculiar Regard
A Pride & Prejudice Sensual Retelling
Chapter 1
Elizabeth Bennet took a deep breath before knocking on the door. She held a folded letter in her hands that wasn’t even sealed with wax. She could open it up and read the contents if she wished to, but the thought of doing so turned her stomach. She did not care in the least what a wickedly cruel woman the likes of Caroline Bingley had to say to the great Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Even his name in her head conjured up the images of him when he arrived at her master’s—the Hurst’s—home. He had broad shoulders, dark hair that curled up under the brim of his hat, and the finest tailored clothes she’d ever seen. Mr. Darcy was the epitome of a man she wished for herself. He was so kind, gentle toward her. She never heard a harsh word from him, the complete opposite of Miss Bingley who was always complaining about this or that. The tea was too hot. The tea was too cold. The tea was too brown. There was no escaping her when she visited her sister here.
The thought of her trying to form a relationship with Mr. Darcy was too much. But what else could the letters she delivered to him on Miss Bingley’s request mean? Their fortunes might make for a good match, but Elizabeth was set against Mr. Darcy marrying Caroline Bingley. Not that she would have any say about it. But if she was asked, she would certainly recommend against it. For that woman to be his wife for eternity? The thought made her almost physically ill.
She knocked on his door again, more hesitantly this time. She knew what Miss Bingley did not. Mr. Darcy went right to sleep after he quitted the drawing room. It was Miss Bingley who stayed up to write the letter and then insist she deliver it immediately. Even she felt the transgression this meant though it was her duty to do what Miss Bingley demanded.
A muttered, “One moment,” sounded from the other side of the door. The voice was heavy, thick with sleep.
Elizabeth’s nerves fired as she waited for him to open the door. To be anywhere near Mr. Darcy made her nervous, to be near him at night, this was another thing all together.
Finally, the door slowly creaked open. Mr. Darcy peeked out. Elizabeth may have imagined it, but she thought relief swept across Mr. Darcy’s face when he saw it was her. The door opened wider, revealing Mr. Darcy’s figure.
Elizabeth’s breath caught in her throat. Before her, Mr. Darcy’s chest was bare, only his trousers were around his waist. She blinked, staring at the chords of muscle that ran the length of his arms and then up to his collar bone. His chest was taut and smooth. Further still, his stomach muscles…
“Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy inquired.
He raised an eyebrow at her and she shivered. It was quite dark but for the light from both their candles. His shadowy features emphasized the most bare parts of him. Not bare skin, for that was clearly on display, but further within. The lack of light displayed those things that which most of us like to keep hidden. For in the dark, by ourselves, could not we truly be ourselves? She blinked, feeling as if she was truly looking into his soul.
The letter slipped from her fingers and she rushed to pick it up. When she straightened, she noticed Mr. Darcy’s eyes on her. Lowering his gaze, his cheeks turned pink. She knew she should have dressed back in her maid things, but Miss Bingley was in such a hurry to have her letter delivered that she told Elizabeth not to bother.
Elizabeth curtsied. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Darcy. I was tasked with delivering this letter to you.”
She held it out and he merely looked at it before stepping further into his room. “Come in,” he said. “It is too drafty in the hall. We will both catch a chill.”
He said it in such a way that she did not dare do otherwise. She stepped in and he closed the door behind her.
Elizabeth swallowed, varying sensations coursed through her. Fear, apprehension, indeed, even excitement. She tried to hand him the letter once more, but he bid her put it on the dresser in the corner of the room. She did so, then stopped close to the fireplace for its warmth. She had not realized the chill than ran through her bones at being out at such a time in the night.
Turning, she warmed her backside as an excuse to stare at Mr. Darcy again. He sat on the bed, his severe expression staring at the rug at his feet. He looked up and into her eyes. “Is that letter from Miss Bingley, Elizabeth?”
She nodded, not wanting to answer because it always made him angry.
A dark cloud crossed his face. “She is relentless. If it were not for my relationship with her brother…” He broke off, not finishing his thought. Instead, he just shook his head. “Do not you think one should marry for true feelings, Elizabeth? Money is perhaps beneficial, but what of money if you cannot even stand the thought of being with someone?”
Elizabeth knew exactly what he meant. There was a stable boy who had been paying her attentions, but she could not rustle up any feelings for him. “I agree.” She had tried to think of herself with this boy and she just could not. Her mind would not stretch that far, even with imagination.
His eyebrows raised. “Do you know of love?”
Her cheeks burned. She knew of lust. That much was clear. Then again, there was only one man who incited those feelings in her and she was in his chamber at night. She quickly shook of her head. “I do not, Sir. I hope to. Someday.” She gave him a small smile.
His stare dropped, appraising her. She stopped breathing as she watched his eyes peruse her body. Finally, and resolutely, as was his way, he said, “I do not believe you should have any problems. You are handsome. Sure to garner the attentions of somebody.”
A slow burn started in Elizabeth’s stomach. Mr. Darcy had just complimented her. She held back a smile and instead said, “Indeed, we both have.” She inclined her head toward the letter she just dropped on his dresser. “That is far different than what you speak of.”
He stood from his perch on the edge of the bed and moved toward her. Elizabeth’s body froze the nearer he got. She chastised herself for glancing down at his bare skin. The corner of his lips turned up, unabashed. “We are of the same mind then.” Elizabeth’s heart fluttered in her chest as Mr. Darcy tucked a stray curl around her ear. “Tell me, Elizabeth. What is your admirer lacking that you would want? Is it looks? Money?”
Her throat suddenly dry, she shook her head. She did not know if she wanted to answer him. His stare was too intense. She was afraid she would get caught up in it and never be able to go back to her normal life.
“Please?” he asked, his expression so earnest she couldn’t bear to disappoint him.
“Sense,” she said, her voice almost scratchy.
Mr. Darcy smiled then, but it was almost cruel. He thought her answer…inappropriate? False?
His smile pushed the words out that were on the tip of her tongue. “Something else, too. Something I do not know how to explain.”
At this, his gaze narrowed as if he were truly listening. “Try.”
She wrung her hands together in front of her. His stare unnerved her more than it should. She took a deep breath and tried to make clear what she had only thought about inside her own mind. “A feeling of some sort…an interest almost. I cannot place the emotion truly, but more like an eager wish to know the person.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “An attraction?”
“Yes, and no. Not physically as in one’s appearance, but a genuine interest to know the person.” She felt the heat once again rise to her face as she felt what she could not put into words now. It was not just the need to know Mr. Darcy’s past, present, and inner workings. It was a need to delve into him on another level. An intimacy is what she craved from her admirer. That she could not say, though her cheeks blazed as the thought occurred to her.
“Ah,” Mr. Darcy said. His eyes perused her, blush and all. “Have you, perhaps, felt that way with anyone?” he asked
.
Her gaze dropped to the floor. She did not want to answer. What would be the point? She could never face him again if she did and if she did admit it, could that not be grounds for termination? “I am tired. I believe I should go back to my chamber.”
She moved for the door, but Darcy caught her arm. His touch sent shivers up her skin. “Please stay. Please answer.” His voice was firm. “It might interest you to know that I have felt something similar.”
Now this was too cruel. Was he laughing at her? Making a spectacle of her? She did not think him capable of this. He had always been so kind. She looked up into his gaze to say something, but the words died on her lips. The way he stared at her. He stomach tumbled over.
He looked at her again, more earnest now. “Have you felt this ‘attraction’ with anyone?”
Slowly, she nodded.
He was being impatient with her. Shadows lined under his eyes, but she was merely trying to stall long enough to think of the right words to say.
“Yes,” she said, finally. “I have.”
He bit his lip before asking, “With who?”
She stared at his perfectly curved mouth. How many times had she thought about kissing him? Far too many times for a servant. And she called herself sensible. Still,his demeanor, his very look, demanded an answer. She tipped her chin in the air. “You.”
Chapter 2
Shadows crept across Mr. Darcy’s face as he inched closer to Elizabeth. His stare had turned dark, but not in a menacing way. In a way that curled Elizabeth’s toes. There. That was what she’d meant. Her stomach burned, igniting in her a desire that surpassed anything she’d ever felt before.