by Sophia Grace
He leaned in, closer, and closer still. It was as if he was tempting himself. At which point would he cross the line? She did not know, but at this moment, she did not care. She knew she should. She knew what it would mean to give herself over to him, but the need was so strong. Impossible to ignore.
“Have you?” she asked suddenly, her lips practically buzzing with anticipation.
Mr. Darcy closed his eyes. His tongue wet his lips and Elizabeth watched, mesmerized at the slow journey it took over the curves of his mouth. The passion inside her was undeniable. She forgot about the letter and Miss Bingley and focused solely on him.
Darcy’s feet shuffled forward again and then suddenly, her lower half was pressed against him. Her hand came to rest on his bare chest as she bit down on her lip, stifling the groan that threatened to fill the silence between them. On her thigh, she felt the evidence of his feelings. Intrigued, her hand slowly lowered, past his ribs, his hips, then came to rest on the hardest part of him.
Darcy moaned audibly. “Elizabeth—” he said, and it sounded like a warning to her virgin ears, but she did not care. She was finally understanding everything that had been secreted from her. Her hand explored Darcy’s stiff cock on her. Little by little, Darcy lost any resolve he had. He pulled her face away from shoulder and seared his gaze into hers as she her fingertip over the head.
His mouth claimed hers. He kissed past her naivete, past her innocence and dove his tongue into her hot mouth as her hand closed around his dick. He kissed until every part of her wanted him, right down to her pinky toe and the roots of her hair. Her whole body was ablaze.
His lips slowed, taking the kiss more gentle, a slow burn that kept the embers hot. Finally, he pulled just a breath away. “Yes,” he said, his chestnut colored eyes never leaving hers. “Yes, I have felt it before.”
He picked her up and wound her legs around his hips. She lost her grip on him, but instead, her arms went around his back, digging into his skin until her backside hit the soft blankets on his bed. Her legs fell open for him and his stare immediately lowered to the vee of her thighs. Desire blanketed his face. He dropped to his knees and before Elizabeth realized what he was doing, his mouth was between her legs. His sweet, sweet tongue kissed her most private parts.
She cried out, her hands twisting into his sheets as his tongue scoured every inch of her. She bucked into him and he took the opportunity to move his hands around her legs and up her sides. His fingers searched her smooth skin until they found the round, fullness of her breasts and then higher as they came to rest on her taut nipples. Elizabeth bucked again, her body screaming at her, but she only succeeded in intensifying the pleasure. His tongue gently caressed her nub and her mouth dropped open in a silent cry.
Unable to help herself, her fingers dove into his dark, soft curls. He responded, deepening his attentions to her. Her body locked up, strung tight with the unknown pleasure. She moved her hips until he licked and licked the part that made her want to break apart. “Mr. Darcy,” she cried.
Her head started to swirl, her body buzzed and trembled. His hot, wet tongue slid down her length and then up again until he pressed into her most sensitive spot. Her body climbed high off the bed as he licked there again and again and again. Finally, breathless and barely able to think, her release came in a frenzied rush. Suspended in time, she rode the waves of pleasure one after the other. Her fingers tightened around his hair until she slowly lowered back to the bed. Her heart thumped inside her chest, but that too was coming to a steady even rhythm. She stared up at the ceiling, thanking her lucky stars.
Mr. Darcy moved away from her and stood. He wiped at his lips and then stuck his finger in his mouth. Slowly, he unbuttoned his pants and lowered them. Elizabeth practically panted as he crawled over her.
Chapter 3
Darcy came to rest on top of her, his elbows propping his body up so their skin just barely grazed one another’s. Every where his taut muscle passed over her, short sparks of excitement shot through her. Lower, her muscles spasmed as his hips rested against hers. Slowly, he reached down and stretched her legs out to the sides so he could fit in between her. Cupping his hand around the back of her neck, he stared down. “Dearest Elizabeth, I could not deny my attraction for you any longer. Especially not after you said you felt the same way.” He looked away for a few moments and then back again. His irises a darker brown, scorching with passion. “How could I think about anyone else when you were always there in the back of my mind?”
Elizabeth swallowed. Her throat working against her. She could not form words let alone rational thought. Darcy had thought about her. It was true she’d had more conversations with him recently thanks in large part to the letters she was always delivering. To think that when she went back to her room and thought about him that he was doing the exact same thing… She drew in a breath and let it out as he fanned her hair out around her head in a halo. His finger traced a line down her neck, past her collarbones, and to the center of her chest. There, he lowered it further still, taking with it her thin chemise. The fabric slid against her nipples until he tugged even further, revealing them in one swift movement.
Her breath caught once more. She was exposed to him. He ate up her soft lines, her stare devouring her. “Perfect,” he mumbled before lowering his head to taste her.
She squeezed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth, tamping down the excited cry that threatened. She lifted her hips, her wetness pressing into his hard cock. She gasped. This time she couldn’t stop the cry even if she’d wanted to. She felt him at her entrance and instinct took over.
Darcy stilled above her. He pulled away, releasing her nipple between his lips. “Elizabeth,” he warned.
No, it was impossible. She could not stop. She pressed up again, reveling in the delicious sensations his hardness sent through her core. The head pressed between her precious lips and her heart almost exploded. Bringing her hands up to rest on his backside, she pulled down. He entered her a little further.
“Elizabeth…”
He started to back away, but she dug her nails into his ass. “Please.”
He hung his head, his forehead resting against hers. “I do not know if I will be able to start once I stop. I feel as if I am coming apart at the seams. I fear I might be too rough.”
Desire flowed through her. Wetness trickled down between her legs. If his cock felt anything like his tongue, she did not care how rough he got or if he would stop. She just wanted him. This was all a culmination of everything she had dreamt of.
In answer, she lifted her hips again. It was as if a frayed string had snapped. Darcy growled and pushed her hips into the bed with his own. He slid easily inside. Elizabeth felt a pinch of pain and hesitation, but it was broken free within an instant.
Mr. Darcy stared down at her, his expression all knowing. He captured her lips into a heated kiss, his hips making small motions toward her, until he pulled away. “You are mine.”
God, yes. She dug her nails into him again and his stroke lengthened, pushing Elizabeth to her limit, stretching her in every delicious way imaginable.
Darcy’s resolve shook. He had tried to be gentle, but he could do so no longer. His hips met hers with more ferocity and Elizabeth immediately opened her legs further. A determined gaze stole Mr. Darcy’s countenance. Their lips moved with synchronicity, each of them writhing in pleasure, their soft moans mingling. Short, raspy breaths filled the air around them. Elizabeth’s hands explored her beloved’s skin, committing it to memory, as he drove her higher and higher. Recognizing her spike in pleasure again, she met his thrusts with ones of her own, determined to get there again. The way he slid inside her, claiming her, made her tremble with want. With singular focus, she ground her nub into the base of his cock again and again until the world around her flew into pieces again.
She cried out, the intense pleasure lasting longer and taking her higher than the last. She held him close, grinding against him until he, too, growled, takin
g control once more as he sank his cock deep inside her, releasing his seed with every forceful stroke.
He collapsed on top of her. Their chests heaved against one another as soft moans filled the space between them. After a few blissful moments, Darcy pulled up and moved to his side. He rested his hand on her lower abdomen, but to Elizabeth, he was not near as close as she wanted him to be. She slid over, loving the warmth his body gave her. His mouth turned up into a smile.
Darcy played with her hair as his gaze wandered off into the shadows of the room. Elizabeth did not mind, she was just content to look at him. She was at peace, and she hoped he was too.
Finally, he looked down and said, “What have you always wished for since you were a young girl?”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He slid his fingers between hers and squeezed. “The dearest wish of your heart…what is it?”
She smiled. “To be loved, of course. Is not that everyone’s dearest wish?”
“Love? Not money or security or anything else?”
She shook her head. “No. Just love.”
His eyes danced in the light from the fireplace. He leaned over her, placing his lips next to her ear. “I am prepared to give you all of it, Miss Elizabeth. You are mine. Heart and soul.” He placed a soft kiss on her lobe and she trembled before wrapping her arms around him getting as close as she possibly could.
Now that she had him, she never wanted to let him go. Thankfully, his words meant she would never have to.
The End
Love By Mistake
A Pride & Prejudice Sensual Retelling
Chapter 1
It is a truth universally acknowledged that when a heroine is in need of saving, something—or someone—will be thrown into her path to right all the wrongs she finds herself in.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn paced the room. Ever since Mr. Collins had set foot on her father’s property for the first time, nothing had gone right. Almost from the very minute of his coming had she ascertained that he had set his eyes on her beloved sister, Jane. However, her mother had righted that from the moment she gleaned it for Mr. Bingley was to be Jane’s groom. No, Mrs. Bennet could not have that, so instead, she swayed him to Elizabeth.
All her hopes and dreams felt as if they were crushing her. She had never wanted to marry, not really. With her status in life, she knew no one she could ever bring herself to love would stoop to her situation in life. She wanted a gentleman. A kind-hearted soul with wit and intelligence. It was not her fate to have a man such as that, but to have Mr. Collins thrown at her like so, she could not bear it. It was a worse fate than growing up a spinster which she thought she would have liked after all. Especially seeing her future unfold before her now. Mr. Collins, her husband?
“How do I find myself here?” Elizabeth asked the empty room. Her hair was done up in curls for the Netherfield Ball. She could hear the strings playing a merry tune out in the main room where couples were surely dancing reels up and down the grand room of Mr. Bingley’s. Her heart was the exact opposite of merriment. It cracked in her chest, just thinking about the future. Though she had refused Mr. Collins at first, her father had persuaded her to accept him. Of all people, Mr. Bennet had asked this of her.
Her mother had pleaded with her, but her heart would not be moved. It was only when Mr. Bennet sat her down and told her of their dire situation that she relented. A future with the dull Mr. Collins was on the horizon. She had only to accept him now, which she planned to do in this very room. Even now, Jane was guiding Mr. Collins here. She knew her sister did so with a heavy heart, but Elizabeth had convinced her that she wanted Mr. Collins. It had taken everything in her to do so, but eventually, Jane smiled and was happy for the newest couple. Her eyes twinkled in happiness for Elizabeth after she continued to sing her false praise of the man she could not stand. She almost wished her sister was not as trusting in that moment. She needed only a sound mind to convince her that this was a very, very bad idea.
She was bound to a melancholy life in Mr. Collin’s embrace. His beloved Rosings Park, which he talked so highly of, would be nothing to the woods and the meadows surrounding Longbourn even if they were finer.
The doorknob to the room rattled. Elizabeth slipped back into the shadows, her heart in her throat. To think that her life had come to this moment. She always thought herself strong-willed and able-minded. Hopefully, those traits would keep her buoyed in her new life to come.
Because there were not to be guests in this room, the space wasn’t even lit with candles. There was just the slight light from the hanging moon in the sky that lit up the area near the window. The door opened, and a figure stepped in. At least in the dark Mr. Collins looked a little finer. Perhaps a little taller and thinner through the middle. Without the harsh light of reality, she could imagine him to be a great gentleman. She would have to keep that thought with her whenever she took to their marriage bed. Perhaps if she closed her eyes, she could do her wifely duty without much trouble. When the children came, she could fill her life with them and instill in them fine values and taste, for they would never get that from their father. She could do this. She could be their influence, she just had to take the first step.
He came in, his step sure against the floor. Again, Elizabeth was struck with how fine his shadow looked. Perhaps it was the light of the moon playing tricks on her, but he looked so much different in the dark. She stepped closer, creaking the floorboard beneath her.
“Who goes there?” he asked.
The strings from the ball in the main room picked up, almost drowning out his voice. “E-elizabeth,” she said, choking on her own name. Knowing what was to pass between them, she did not know if she should utter Miss Bennet or her given name to the man she would marry.
The figure stopped, his chin almost arching in the air. Elizabeth’s stomach sank as she took him in. It was a ready silhouette for Mr. Collins. He always looked too full of himself when he spoke of Rosings Park and its owner, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. To think what he must be feeling now. Triumph, most likely, that he finally got what he wanted, despite her vehement rejections yesterday.
Her life was over.
Chapter 2
Elizabeth bowed her head, trying to look demure. If what her father told her was true about their present monetary situation, she needed to make sure Mr. Collins did not refuse her. Let him gloat if he wanted. She could take it.
“How come you to be in here?” he asked.
Elizabeth refrained from sighing. Surely, Jane told him all this as she led him here. Why was he asking her to say it out loud? “Do not you have something to ask me?”
“Yes,” he said. “How could you be so—?”
Elizabeth stepped forward. “Please do not say another word. I was wrong before. If you ask me again, I will accept.”
Mr. Collins did not speak for a little while, and Elizabeth even thought she heard a slight intake of breath. She clamped down on her jaw, just waiting for him to say the words so she could get this over with. The worst part would be waiting for the wedding and having to endure everyone’s comments on it. When they left for Rosings Park and away from all those she loved, she would be able to live with her situation in life. Again, her will was strong.
The shadow shook his head. Elizabeth let out a breath, thankful that she could not see his face in this dark room. It made it easier for her to accept her fate. “You will accept me then?” he asked.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, her heart beating like a kicking mule in her chest. “I should have realized the depths of my feelings for you earlier. I hope you will forgive my earlier transgressions.” Her throat felt thick as she said the words. The last thing she wanted to do was apologize to her pompous cousin, but her father thought it best.
I will probably never forgive him for this, Elizabeth thought. She and her father had always had a good relationship, but not after this. She would do what she must for her family, but that did not mean she
had to like it.
“You will be my wife?” he asked.
Elizabeth bit a retort back. What more did he want her to say? Did not Jane tell him why he was brought into this room? Why must even this feel like the greatest torture? “Yes,” she said, her voice rising. “I will consent to be your wife.”
“But I have not asked,” he said. She could almost hear the smirk in his voice.
Elizabeth’s temper was getting the best of her. She wanted nothing more than to tell Mr. Collins how insolent he was being. He had asked. She’d refused. Could they not ever move on from that?
Perhaps this was his way of letting the past go though, Elizabeth mused, trying to console herself. If she could convince even her mind that her intended was not a fool, she could bear this much better.
“If you ask,” Elizabeth said with as much determination as she could muster. “I will accept.”
The figure paced in front of her. The more he did so, Elizabeth’s temper flared. Why did he have to make her suffer through this? Outside the room, a round of laughter rose up. It felt as if a slap to her face. That everyone else should be having fun while she was here, sentencing herself to a life without love was abhorrent.
“Will you ask?” she said, her voice terse.
The shadow stopped. “I think I want something first.”
Of course, he did. Did he understand how cruel he was being? Sometimes she wondered if Mr. Collins really was such a fool, or if he was actually a smart man pretending to be a fool. “What is it that you want?” Elizabeth found herself asking. Her lips made the words though she detested every single one of them as soon as she uttered them.
“A kiss.”
She gasped. She could not help it. For him to ask her for a kiss before they were even betrothed. What was he thinking? “Do you think that wise?” Elizabeth asked, hoping to sway him out of this new foolish venture.