Chapter 3.2 #2
He was eager to taste more; his lips slowly traced warm kisses on her chin, her jaw, her throat, then to her ear, and finally back to her thirsty mouth.
He lowered her gown further, and quivers overtook her; she moaned, and he stopped, trying to read in her eyes what she wanted.
His stare increased her breathing, and her heart beat wildly.
His eyes lowered with passionate greed upon her soft roundness.
It was dark and cold in the carriage, but she felt strangely warmed.
Her breathing increased as his fingers—slowly, gently—brushed a line of fire around her left breast, again and again, then cupped it in tender possession.
It fit perfectly in his palm, and their moans combined.
Her back arched against his hand, increasing the sweet capture, while his thumb daringly caressed her hard nipple.
She released a cry, covered by the storm outside and silenced by another kiss.
His hand moved to her other breast, beginning the sweet, unbearable torture again.
Her moans increased with her breathing, and her body began to move as though of its own will.
“I want to taste you,” he whispered, but she barely heard his words. She just sensed his mouth abandoning hers and following the trace of his fingers.
She shivered as her mind knew what would come an instant before her body actually felt it.
His lips soon reached the place where her heart beat wildly, and her skin welcomed the torturous touch of his mouth, which licked, tasted, savoured, and then closed around her nipple.
She covered her mouth with her hand, muffling another cry.
He suddenly lifted his head to look at her and kissed her lips softly.
But his hand returned to her breast, reluctant to abandon its softness.
“Are you well?” he whispered. She only nodded, her gaze blurred with passion.
His hand finally separated from its sweet captive and slowly moved down, resting a moment on her belly, then lowered to her legs and lifted the dress towards her waist. Her heart’s beat was louder than the rain.
Patiently, tantalisingly, his hand found its way above her stockings and touched the bare skin of her thighs.
Then, with gentle moves, it glided between them.
A deep moan escaped her dry lips, and she licked them while her legs parted.
He raised his head again, and his eyes met and locked with hers.
His gaze burned her as much as his hand, which slowly moved along her inner thigh.
A smile lit his face as though telling her what would happen.
“Please look at me, my love,” he begged her, and she struggled to keep her eyes open.
His caresses grew more daring, more demanding, more determined.
His fingers tantalised her thighs for some time then moved up slowly and remained still, pressing on her most intimate place.
She gasped and looked at him in wonder, ceasing to breathe.
His smile widened, and his fingers found their way to the core of her body with gentle, tender caresses.
His mouth captured hers again, possessively, his tongue dueling with hers then conquering her mouth while his fingers continued their torturous, daring strokes.
She could hardly believe what was happening as her body melted under the fire building inside.
She felt her mouth abandoned as the kiss travelled down her neckline and stopped at her breasts again, conquering her skin with his lips, his tongue, and his teeth, satiating his urge while his fingers conquered the spot—warm and moist—where all her senses were gathered.
Everything disappeared around her, and there was nothing left but the rain outside and a storm of fire and ice within her that blew her senses into countless pieces.
∞∞∞
Several moments later, Elizabeth struggled to regain her breathing and comprehend what had happened while, sitting on the floor by her side, Darcy tenderly stroked her forehead. She needed some time before her senses recovered and she dared to open her eyes and meet his.
A smile softened his face, and she briefly thought how shocking she must look. What must he think of her?
“How are you, my love?”
“I do not know…I…”
She averted her gaze but noticed the worry on his face, and she smiled to cover her embarrassment and put him at ease.
“I am overwhelmed…and spent…I never imagined anything like this…such sensations…such pleasure…I can hardly believe what you did. I fear that I fainted,” she whispered.
He briefly kissed her swollen lips. “I did nothing but show you how ardently I love and desire you, Mrs. Darcy. And this is only the beginning; there is so much more to show you.”
“Much more? That cannot be! If I could explain to you what I felt…how can there be more?”
“Much more, my love. I promise you. I can hardly wait to arrive home to prove it to you. Your beautiful face glowing while you took your pleasure was the most wonderful thing I ever saw. And I cannot wait to see it again—many times, as soon as we are in the privacy of our apartment.”
“I wholeheartedly believe your promises, my husband, as I know you never break them,” she answered, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat.
He laughed, kissed her hand, helped her to stand, and arranged her clothes. She smiled in embarrassment and delight, assisting him in return until their appearance was more decent. They should be within an hour of London.
Darcy embraced her tightly and put blankets around them.
Now they could feel the cold and hear the storm outside.
They did not speak for a while. What more was to be said when both looked forward to arriving at their destination and completing their union?
Time passed too slowly, and the darkness outside allowed them to see little.
But they could feel that the carriage had slowed; then a few minutes later, it stopped.