Chapter 27 #2
While he kissed her, she rocked herself against him, making him groan at how good she felt.
He pulled away from her lips to watch her, enjoying the sight of her gratifying herself, her parted lips and her lidded eyes and her breath coming faster with each push of her hips, but he gasped when she stopped to wrap her fingers around him.
Elizabeth’s lips were swollen from kissing, but he had to kiss her again while she stroked him with intensifying curiosity.
It was not much longer until she unknowingly moved in a way to make his head fall back with a moan.
“Elizabeth,” he said through a sigh with his eyes closed. He ardently wished to join with her and asked if she was ready for the same.
Before he could open his eyes, Elizabeth surprised him by taking him in her hand, tilting her hips, and lowering herself.
Her first hesitation cost his self-control dearly, and he fought against every base desire to thrust forward as hard as he could.
Darcy ran his hands along the back of her thighs and finally settled on her hips, exerting just enough pressure so she knew he wanted her to stay.
It was neither quick nor easy for her, but he eventually won his way, with Elizabeth’s hands on his shoulders and her face buried against his neck.
Darcy put his arms around her to hold her close.
She gave a deep sigh, quite another tone than one of pain, but not nearly the same as the moans of pleasure she made before.
“I want to touch you,” he whispered into her ear.
Elizabeth raised her head to look down at them before giving him a saucy look. “I would say you already are.”
Darcy arched an eyebrow and moved his hand between them. Her teasing expression fell, and she gave quick, shallow breaths as he moved his fingers in a slow rhythm. She yielded to him with her head tilted back and a whisper of “I did not expect you to do that.”
Every vein in his body was circulating a liquid fire at both the thought of Elizabeth touching herself this way and imagining whatever she might want from him.
While these lustful thoughts swirled in his mind, she shifted her hips and began to slowly lift and fall.
He finally found his voice to ask, “What did you expect me to do?”
Elizabeth cupped her breasts and offered them with a long look at his mouth.
He lowered his lips to her, to tease her, and himself, with long strokes of his tongue and the gentle slide of his teeth.
Her loud cries and swifter actions told him that her pleasure was rising as the initial discomfort subsided.
Each tug of his mouth made her grind harder against him.
“Oh, ’tis too much. No, don’t stop!”
His joys were more silent than hers, but the same pleasure was building in him.
Eventually, her motions became too rapid to keep her balance and she threw her arms around him for support, her fingernails digging into him, and biting her own lip to stop from whimpering.
He leant back to watch, and Darcy moved his hand from her long enough to brush a thumb across her lips.
“Don’t. I want to hear you.”
Her hips moved even faster when he brought his hand back to her, and the die-away moment was nearly come upon him when a strong shudder ran through her as her cries of rising ecstasy grew louder.
Darcy grasped her by the hips and gave way to a thrusting fury that nature could not support for long.
She fell against his chest, breathless, while he lay dying with delight.
He wanted to stay motionless and languid, but when Elizabeth climbed off of him, he turned them on to their sides to lay down on the bed.
Brilliant dark eyes met his as he ran his hand up and down her arm.
The intimacy now between them was rich with intensity, but before he could speak into it, Elizabeth pressed a kiss against his lips and said, with a sweet smile, “I am very glad that I asked you to marry me.”
Darcy laughed quietly as he felt sleep start to descend heavily upon him. “I am very glad that you humbled yourself to ask.”
“And you are ready to bring your bride home after a visit to town?” she asked in a sleepy voice.
“I think I am at home now,” he murmured. “Not here in this lodge, but here with you in my arms.” Elizabeth pressed herself closer, but he could not be sure if she was asleep or awake. “But yes,” he said drowsily, “soon we shall go to Pemberley.”
Darcy and Elizabeth were shown into Longbourn’s drawing room and Darcy forced himself to unclench his jaw. This formal nicety to take leave would be a tax on his forbearance. Elizabeth had spent yesterday saying goodbye to Miss Lucas, Mrs Beverly, and their other friends in the neighbourhood.
In this instance, we have not kept the good wine until now.
Mrs Bennet invited them to sit and Mrs Collins cleared her throat, reminding her mother whose right it truly was to ask a guest to be seated. Elizabeth gave him a long-suffering look and sat, but Darcy stood behind her chair. This would be a short interview.
“My dears, are you certain you must go away?” Mrs Bennet asked. “It seems exceedingly sudden.”
“Mamma, Darcy always intended to return home after Georgiana died. She had been too ill to travel any closer to home from Ramsgate than Meryton, but Darcy very much wants to return to Derbyshire. He only stayed as long as he did so as not to remove me from you too soon.”
“Mrs Bennet,” Darcy said, smiling, “might I prevail upon your good judgement?” This earned him a few startled glances.
“Do you know of anyone who might purchase my lease? You are on good terms with the families in the neighbourhood. If anyone could recommend the house to the perfect family in the area, it would be you.”
He heard Mrs Collins huff, but no one of sense could declare that Longbourn’s mistress was a generous hostess who was well acquainted with the neighbourhood concerns.
“I can certainly inquire for you, my dear Darcy. It is too small for the Gouldings, but perhaps Mrs Long might take it. It would be large enough for a widow, after all.”
“Indeed.” He looked at her pointedly, but Mrs Bennet did not take the hint.
Elizabeth had told him she might have to be finessed into giving up living at Longbourn for the sake of having her own smaller establishment.
“Perhaps, since we are quitting the place without delay, you might reside there yourself.”
“Me? Whatever shall I do there?”
“You would take excellent care of the house and the grounds and host parties there whenever you wish. You and Lydia could keep on our cook, two maids, kitchen boy, and man, since the rent and the servants are paid through the year.” He would pay their wages and the rent every year, of course.
His mother-in-law looked taken aback. “I would wish to help you, certainly, but living in a lodge is nothing to being mistress of Longbourn.”
“I would thank you to remember who is the rightful mistress of Longbourn,” Mrs Collins said, and Mrs Bennet looked mortified.
“There are four bedrooms,” Darcy added quickly, “so you shall boast spare rooms for visitors, and the dining room is large enough to seat eight.”
“But she would be obliged to make large purchases to supply the place of what must stay at Longbourn,” Mrs Collins said. “She cannot afford it, and Mr Collins will not allow her to take any furnishings that are rightly his, so she might as well stay under my care.”
Mrs Bennet was certainly under Mrs Collins, but not in any terms that would include the word care.
Ignoring her, he said to Elizabeth’s mother, “I shall be happy to supply any deficiency of comfort Netherfield Lodge currently suffers.”
Lydia looked to have grown tired of the conversation and walked to the window. From there, she had a clear view of the sweep, and Darcy braced himself for what would follow.
“Is that your carriage?” Lydia turned from the window and her mouth gaped. “Mamma! You must come see the carriage Darcy bought for Lizzy!”
“He did not buy it for me,” Elizabeth said, holding back a smile. “He had his sent from London to retrieve us.”
“You are certain it is not new? A bride ought to have a new carriage if her husband can afford one.”
“The preparations of new carriages and furniture might wait until Elizabeth’s own taste can have fairer play,” Darcy said.
Lydia cocked her head. “London? I thought your estate was in Derbyshire. Oh! An estate and a—”
She looked between him and Elizabeth, and then laughed heartily. She covered her mouth and fled to the corner of the room behind him. All Darcy could hear was, “So rich! Mary shall not stand it!”
“Lydia, stop laughing,” Mr Collins ordered. “Only the most vulgar spirit could find anything to admire in a female who laughs as loudly and freely as you do.”
Lydia frowned, and her laughter slowly died.
“Why do you speak so rudely to Lydia?” Darcy asked him sternly.
Mr Collins shifted his feet. “Well, by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better, you know.”
Darcy summoned his patience as he said, “Good humour is not an undesirable quality in a woman.”
“Oh…true, good humour is desirable.” His wife then gave him a sharp look. “I mean, my own dear Mary faces the realities of the world far better than Lydia does.”
Darcy held back the idea that Mr Collins ought not to have proposed to a woman without taking the pains to know her. He might have learnt before it was too late that Mary Bennet was perpetually peevish.
“Please, Mamma,” Elizabeth said. “I could leave happier knowing—it is already furnished and you could take possession immediately. And think of how happy you would be to have your friends visit whenever you want.”
Lydia came up to Elizabeth and leant down to her ear. “And Darcy will pay?” she whispered.
His wife nodded and Lydia then looked to her mother. “Oh, Mamma, we simply must get away from—we ought to help Lizzy!”