Page 35 of Desired By Mr Darcy
“Why?”
“This is not who I am. I am not a man who thinks of nothing but pleasure. You saw me in my most vulnerable state, and still, you look at me as you do. You look at me as though I am made of starlight, such adoration I do not deserve.”
“I do adore you. I adore everything about you, and this is no exception.”
She lowered her hand, relishing in his gasp as she pressed her hand to the firm outline of his manhood. He said nothing as she moved her hand slowly against him, his breath shuddering between them.
“May I?” she whispered, her fingers hovering over the fastenings to his breeches.
Before she could unfasten them, his fingers joined hers and made quick work of the fastenings of one side of the opening. He took her wrist once more, slipping her hand into the folds of his clothes.
“Allow me this privacy,” he groaned, her fingers finding skin that felt as fine as silk. “Oh, I…”
“May I touch you as you touched yourself?”
“Please, oh, please.”
Her heart raced as she tentatively wrapped her hand around the thick length of him. He was heavy in her hand, hot and insistent. He seemed to grow harder at her touch, and somehow even bigger. She wished she could see him, for her curious mind wished to know every inch of this appendage that was so mysterious to her.
“Your cock,” she said, echoing the word he had just used, “feels so large. How will you ever fit inside of me?”
He inhaled sharply, his hips thrusting as his fingers tightened into her arms.
“Oh, God, what have you done to me?” he panted. “You have stolen my heart, my senses. Oh, just like that. Wait, wait…”
He pulled away, her hand falling limp between them, as he hurriedly fastened his breeches.
“Why?”
“I will not last. I will spill my seed and I have no wish to. Will you lie down, Elizabeth?”
He gestured to the chaise, and Lizzy moved in a daze. She held her hand out to him, begging him to sit beside her. He did so, and once more their lips crashed together as he pushed her back onto the chaise, fitting himself perfectly between her legs. His hardness brushed against her aching…what had he called it? Her cunt?
She moved her hips, searching for some relief to the ache that had consumed her. She was sure she would die if it did not end, and she knew only that Fitzwilliam was all she wanted in this moment.
“I love you, Elizabeth,” he whispered against her neck, thrusting in return. “Before long, I shall make you my wife. I am yours, always yours.”
She wrapped her legs around his waist, tugging him closer. She ground herself shamelessly against him, the ache subsiding as she felt liquid pleasure course through her body.
“Oh,” she moaned breathlessly, “I feel…”
“Come for me, my sweet Elizabeth. I…”
He pulled away, and she whimpered with the loss of him. Her disappointment lasted only for a moment, as he lowered himself on the chaise and settled between her legs. He gazed up at her, his eyes striking even in the dim lamplight, as he raised her nightgown. She could not help but stare, every instinct in her screaming to press his perfect mouth to where she craved it the most. She had never heard of such an act, and did not know if it was possible, but she wanted it all the same.
“May I kiss you, Lizzy?”
“There?”
“Yes.”
“Please. Please, I need…I cannot…”
Before she could finish, he had gathered the fabric of her nightgown by her hips, and his mouth was upon her. She squeezed her eyes shut, the sensations coursing through her so overwhelming her toes curled and helpless whimpers were pulled from her without her consent. He swirled his tongue over that sensitive little bud she had felt in her own nighttime wanderings, and she saw stars.
He pulled away for a moment.
“Hush, Lizzy. I will have all your sweet noises when we are married, but you must be silent. Can you do that for me?”
