Page 41 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
“You are perfect,” he groaned against her skin. “Perfect. Mine.”
“Yours,” she agreed breathlessly, arching into his touch. “My God, Fitzwilliam…”
“Say my name again,” he demanded, his hips snapping forward as he searched for some relief from this torment. “Say it.”
How easy it would be to kiss his way down her lush body and bury himself in her. He longed to taste her on his tongue, to kiss her between her legs until she cried out in ecstasy. When they were married, he would bring her to the height of pleasure, making her cry his name until her voice was hoarse. Why wait? She was promised to him, and it would feel so good…
“I love you, Fitzwilliam.”
He inhaled sharply, desire flooding through him.
“I love you… I love you!What are we doing?” he pulled back at once. “I…What am I doing?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I must go. Turn, please. I must go.”
He got out of the bed, fumbling in the dim light for his clothes. His nakedness disgusted him, the protrusion of his aching erection vulgar and ungentlemanly. How had he allowed his judgement to be so clouded by lust? He could barely recall how they had come to be in this state of undress. He knew more of these things than Miss Elizabeth; he owed her his protection, his restraint. Without turning, he passed her her nightgown.
“I am dressed,” she said after a while. “You may turn.”
“You are beautiful,” he muttered, returning to the bed and kneeling by her side.
“Would I stay here, and love you as I sorely want to. I must go, but know that it is the hardest thing I have ever done.”
“I have heard talk of women who lay with men when they are not married. What you must think of me, sir, to fall in such a way.”
“You? Miss Elizabeth, I have behaved poorly! Inexcusably so. If you wish to release yourself from this beast that you have consented to marry, I would understand.”
She looked at him with confusion.
“Of course I do not,” Lizzy said. “I don't even want you to leave this room!”
“I will not be far away, my love. I will never leave you for longer than I have to. I shall see you in the morning,” he promised. “I have sent the letter to your father. We will soon have a wedding to plan.”
Their parting kiss was anything but brief, their passions inflamed once more. It took every ounce of his restraint to pull away. With a final whispered goodbye, and another stolen kiss, he left her.
Chapter Twelve
“You are perfect. You are mine.”
Lizzy’s dream had been the sweetest she’d ever known. She had felt Mr Darcy’s touch on her, his large hands splayed on her body as if he meant to possess her. She had felt pleasure sorely, an ache between her thighs that she had never known, making her crave his touch…
But it had not been a dream.
She turned in bed, still half asleep. She felt the warm sunshine on her face, the window open slightly. The breeze was very welcome, and she sighed contentedly. Somewhere around her, she heard a throat being cleared.
“Miss Bennet? Miss Bennet?”
Lizzy’s eyes fluttered open. The room was filled with the bright light of summer – and people, too. Penny was the one who had woken her, but she was not alone. Mrs Reynolds stood in the corner of the room clutching a letter.
“Hmm?” Lizzy asked, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon, Miss.”
“Noon! Heavens, I didn't mean to sleep so late.”
“The master said we should not wake you, but there is a letter for you, and the hour grows late. I thought…”
