Chapter 1.23 #4
Her belongings were already prepared, and she waited for Georgiana to awaken so she could make a proper farewell. She retired to her room and changed her clothes; then she reclined on the bed, exhausted but content with the day’s events.
A gentle knock on the door startled her and, convinced it must be either Mrs Hamilton or Betty, invited her to enter. The visitor’s identity surprised her but made her face glow with happiness.
Mr Darcy entered carefully and locked the door behind him.
Before she could say a word, he took her in his arms, so close that she could not breathe.
“My love, I missed you so much. I have been close to you the whole day and yet so painfully far away. Not to be able to hold you, to kiss you…was torture.”
He was whispering in her hair, kissing her lightly at first, then his lips traced their way down to her temple, her eyes, and her cheeks until they met the sweetness of her mouth.
Soon everything around her vanished, and she surrendered to the hungry passion that seemed to devour them, both trying and barely succeeding in satisfying their desire for each other.
In the dizzying tumult of caresses, wanting nothing more than to feel her as close to him as possible, Mr Darcy lay on the bed, pulling her with him, side by side and heart to heart, bodies entwined in an endless kiss. He expected to hear Elizabeth protest, but she did not.
Growing more trustful and daring, his hands possessively started to caress her.
His fingers stroked the softness of her neck and then glided down to her throat, brushing for a few sweet moments over the bare skin of her neckline.
She moaned, and that enchanting sound only increased his urge to touch her.
His kiss grew more insistent, but his caresses remained gentle and patient.
With tender moves, barely touching the soft fabric of her gown, his fingers slid beyond the edge of her gown, brushing over her breast. He was not even certain that she truly felt his touch, but his doubts vanished when she tensed and moaned deeply, her lips whispering something against his mouth.
He waited a few moments, his fingers remaining on the spot where her heart was beating, then his hand continued its delicious journey until its reached her waist, her hips, and finally stopped to rest against her thighs.
He felt her shiver, and her hands began to caress him as if trying to mirror his.
She did not say a word as her lips seemed unwilling to leave his.
So he did what he believed she desired: his hand explored a different path on the other side of her body, tracing its way back from her other thigh, her hips, encircling her waist for a moment and then lifting and brushing against her breast, this time lingering there in the slightest caress.
Her back instinctively arched, and he heard her whisper his name.
Mr Darcy broke the kiss into countless small kisses over her face while he delighted in her soft moans.
As he was lying on his side, his right leg lifted then lowered over her legs, trapping them beneath its weight.
Having half of her imprisoned, his fingers began a sweet torture of her breasts, only brushing against the fabric without allowing his hungry fingers to close on their roundness or to touch them as greedily as he wished.
Patiently, tenderly, he taught her body another lesson of the pleasure he could offer her.
Her body learned quickly—she learned quickly—but only a few moments later, she begged for more, unconsciously moving and arching against his torturing hand.
A knock on the door—and Betty’s voice startled them, putting an end to their interlude. Elizabeth scarcely could find the strength to assure the maid that she would be ready in a moment.
However, many moments passed with neither of them moving, only lying together, staring into each other’s eyes, and smiling breathlessly, flustered but still closely embraced.
He quickly and playfully kissed the tip of her nose. “Now that I finally managed to kiss you, we feel much better, my love, would you not agree? I am sorry; in my hurry, I forgot to ask whether you would allow me to enter your room. I hope you will forgive me.”
She started to laugh, burying her head in his chest. “This could hardly be called only a kiss, sir. And may I dare ask what you would have done if I had not allowed you to enter earlier?”
“I do not know, my dearest, soon-to-be wife. I presume I would obey your wish. I do not think myself capable of doing anything against your will. But I truly hope I shall never have to endure such a moment.”
“I could never refuse your coming to me, William…”
Though the conversion had begun in jest, both felt the depth of their words. It was the first vow of their life together.
Minutes passed in silent bliss. They lay together without kissing or speaking, simply rejoicing in their shared happiness.
Mr Darcy’s lips tenderly touched her forehead, and he whispered as he caressed her hair, “I shall go now and let you prepare yourself. I shall accompany you to the Gardiners’ and stay for dinner if that is acceptable to you. ”
“Of course. Thank you.” She touched his lips with hers, but he stopped her, gently but decisively. “Elizabeth, if I start kissing you again, I am not certain I shall let you go—not now, not later, not ever again.”
His voice was husky and grave. She knew he was speaking in earnest, and for a moment, she was tempted to answer: “I do not want you to let me go.”
She recovered, however, and stroked his face with her fingertips, lingering a little upon his lips. “Mr Darcy…please make sure the carriage is ready. I would like to leave as soon as I have spoken to Georgiana.”