Chapter 2.4 #3
Some moments later, Elizabeth suddenly broke the kiss.
He watched her, puzzled, as she seemed intent on leaving.
However, she only moved to the door and locked it then returned to him, a smile twisting the corners of her lips.
Daringly, she took his hand and made him sit in his large armchair at the massive wooden desk, pulled the curtains closed, then sat on his lap.
“This is where we stopped a few days ago…when we went upstairs,” she said breathlessly while his hands eagerly stroked her roundness.
She did not really know what was going to happen, but she trusted he would guide her—and he did. It was their first “anniversary,” they had yearned for each other for many days, and there was not an instant longer to be wasted nor a second thought to ruin her pleasure.
He hastily took off his waistcoat, then pulled her gown up and made her sit astride him.
She gasped as the newly discovered position raised different feelings inside her.
Only now did she realise how much she had missed his kisses, his caresses, his passion, and the sensation of his being inside her.
Darcy’s desire grew stronger as he witnessed her increased trust, daring, and confidence. The notion that she had agreed and even instigated this most delightful intimacy in the library—a place with so much significance for them—aroused his passion more than ever.
He lowered the dress from her shoulders, exposing her skin to his eyes and touches. The pendant still shone on her throat, and he placed a kiss upon it.
Elizabeth’s emotions became overwhelming, and her mind could hardly understand what was happening.
She only noticed that he removed his clothes and hers.
His whispers burned her ear, then a sweet bite on her earlobe made her spine shiver, and she released a small cry as she felt him enter her—gentle, but stronger, deeper, warmer and more gratifying than before.
“Should I stop?” he whispered, and she forced herself to say no although her lips were not free to speak.
There was a small distance between their shared armchair and the desk, and he gently pushed her back.
While the cold wood chilled her back, his hands burned her skin with long strokes then cupped her breasts with tender possessiveness.
His thumbs tantalised her nipples, which hardened under his touch, and her body arched toward him.
He slowly pulled her up again and her breasts brushed against his torso while their hands encircled each other.
Their moves became faster and deeper, and her moans betrayed her growing pleasure, which only fed his own.
He suddenly stood with her in his arms, their bodies still joined and her legs around his waist, and moved across the room until she found herself placed on a small table near the couch.
She struggled to regain her breathing, and he stopped, watching her carefully for a sign of discomfort, which was not present.
He started kissing her again, stroking and tasting each bare spot of skin, and her own desire quickly defeated the last traces of reservation.
A barely audible knock on the door startled them both, and Elizabeth attempted to escape from his embrace, but his arms closed tighter around her.
“Shhh…do not move,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers stroking her hair.
“What is it, Miles?” he asked severely.
“Sir, I apologise for disturbing you. Colonel Fitzwilliam is here to see you.”
Elizabeth looked positively frightened, and he could barely contain his laughter while he caressed her shoulders and bit her earlobe.
“Please invite him into the drawing room. I have something to finish and will join him shortly.”
“Very well, sir.”
Miles’s steps could be heard retreating, and Elizabeth was about to say something, but her lips were immediately trapped in another deep kiss while his palms held her thighs and moved slowly together with her.
“William, we cannot…the colonel is waiting,” she whispered in a weak attempt to escape his embrace.
“My love, not a full regiment of colonels would be enough to make me stop now,” he said. “Unless you insist upon it,” he continued, his movements stronger against her, his kisses matching the rhythm of his thrusts inside her.
She moaned, and her legs pressed tighter around his waist.
“I shall never be able to face the colonel again…but I beg you…do not stop…”
It took a few more minutes until their bodies finally came to satisfaction together while their moans were crushed within their joined lips.
Their passion, unleashed after several days of restraint, warred with embarrassment for the impropriety of their situation, and their mutual happiness fought against shame and remorse.
However, the delight, the contentment, and the silent promise for more soon defeated any other feelings, and they ended the interlude with a last, passionate kiss.
In some haste, Darcy arranged his clothes, then brushed his hair, and went to greet his cousin.
Elizabeth headed upstairs, her gown somehow arranged but far from presentable for guests. On the way to her room, she bit her lips to stop her smile. How did she dare do such a thing? Yet she did it and could not be happier about it. And it was just noon—their “anniversary” only half over.