Title: Where Angels Fear To Tread
Author: Scorched
Rating:Nc-17
Category: Adult
Content/Pairing: Elizabeth/Darcy
Summary: Regency bondage fic
Spoilers/Set: No spoilers.
Disclaimer: Pride & Prejudice and the characters are the property of Jane Austen . There is no infringement is intended and no profit made.
Distribution: Hyacinth Gardens, Cali’s place, Fire Still Burns ask the author
Notes: A challenge from someone at Hyacinth Gardens
Thanks/Dedication: Thanks to my challenger. When I remember the name, I’ll post
Feedback: God yes!

Part 1


"Elizabeth."

His voice, silky smooth and laced with lust, filtered through her ears to sting her blood with heat. Licks of fire crawled up her skin even as she trembled involuntarily.

Why, if she was so hot, did she shiver so?

Her throat contracted tightly around the forming lump as she took a single step, her slippers quiet on the carpet. Eyes, brilliantly lit with a fine sheen of tears and hunger, came to rest on her husband as he stood in the centre of her chambers, his back to the door.

"Close it." Though he did not look at her, she saw the warning etched across his handsome face.

The door quietly clicked shut, locking her in the lion's den. At the sound, Elizabeth's lungs took in a calming breath and slowly exhaled, her posture prepared for anything that may, or may not, happen.

"Good girl." Only then did Darcy turn to her with eyes so dark, they made the night seem bright. His frame was tense and taut, features expressionless bar the white-lipped line of his sinful mouth.

"My beautiful bride." A steady hand was held out to her and orbs beckoned her to take it. "Come to me, my lady." Such encouragement was not needed at all.

She should know by now, after two years of marriage, that he would not harm a single hair on her head. Well, his lips furled up into a wicked smirk, not unless she asked.

Shaking with anticipation and trepidation, Elizabeth placed her delicate hand in his and watched, through wary orbs, as his thick fingers closed softly around hers. She was pulled, not just by a gentle tug, but by the siren's song of love and she walked, with feline grace, to take her rightful place at his side.

Calloused fingertips brushed loose curls from her forehead and traced the defined lines of her cheekbones, only pausing to kiss her lips with his thumb. He smiled the smile of a predator as her eyelids, soft and creamy, fluttered shut in response.

From the tip of her jaw, Darcy followed the trail of breadcrumbs and watched in fascination as he skimmed smooth skin until he came to rest on the sloping swell of her breasts.

"Hush." Cutting her words off before they were spoken, his order was loud and abrasive, rasping over her like fine grains of sand.

Elizabeth was slowly turned to face her mirror, she met his eyes through the looking glass and watched as the sensual seduction continued.

"Do you see, my Elizabeth, how pretty you are?" The words rumbled through his chest and vibrated in her heart. The solid wall of man behind her tucked close, letting her feel his excitement and relishing in the light hue staining her rounded cheeks.

My Elizabeth, she thought, My Elizabeth was how the games had begun.

*~*~*~*~*

They had not long left Netherfield and were simply enjoying the peace and quiet of their carriage as it took them towards London. Elizabeth held an unread book in her hands and preferred to admire the Hertfordshire scenery she often missed while her husband, Fitzwilliam Darcy, took a mid-afternoon doze beside her.

Looking at him, a wicked smile brightened her face as she raised a finger to toy with the soft skin of his earlobe, mildly amused to see him swat her away as though she were little more than a fly. Chuckling to herself and trying to resist repeating it, Elizabeth rolled her eyes and fought the urge until it grew too tempting to ignore.

Again, her fingertip flicked his ear and this time, Darcy stirred and stared at her through one eye, deep brown and irritated. “Must you do that? I have had little peace these past weeks and now that I have an opportunity, you find you’re resistant to mercy. Cruel woman! Oh, that you had the temperament of Mrs. Bingley.”

Clasping her hand dramatically across her mouth to stifle childish giggles, Elizabeth’s gaze was all merry and teasing, never once repentant for her sin. “Do you mean to tell me that you were not in the least pleasured when mama declared her wishes of being younger?”

Displeasure coated his every word. “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth you are no more!” Darcy straightened his posture and glared at her with all the pride the Master of Pemberley could muster. “If, by chance, your mother was some years younger, I would still have no intention of courting her.”

“Surely, you are not implying my mother embellished on her youthful beauty?” She could not help it. Teasing her husband was her favourite hobby, and judging by the responses she got, being teased was his.

“Certainly not. I would never imply your mother, as dear to me as my own, is a brazen liar. I merely wished to assure you of my consistency in the fact no other woman, no matter how beautiful, could replace you.”

His oh so charming words had her heart fluttering and cheeks blushing. To hide her silly reaction to her husband’s blatant flirting, Elizabeth commented “Such tremblings and flutterings, I know not what to do!” Her hand fanned her face as she exaggerated each and every breath.

Darcy wondered if his wife realised just how ridiculous she appeared. Not able to help it, a small smile cracked his face right before it turned into low chuckles and, finally, helpless laughter. The rich baritone sound was still rare, even after two years, and she relished in the warmth spreading through her as he took hold of her hands and kissed each one in turn.

“I beg you would stop else I shall worry I have indeed wed the wrong Bennett!” As he said those words, he felt the untruth severely cut through him and he wished he had not said them, even if they did make his wife chuckle. Almost desperate to assure her of his admiration and regard, Darcy leaned over her to slide the blind shut. “Not even in jest shall I repeat those hateful words.”

“You can be charmingly silly from time to time, but I ask you never change, no matter how enticing I find the image of seeing Jane coping with your intimidating moods.”

Quick to his own defence, “I am not intimidating.”

Elizabeth softly laughed and shook her head at his pouted lip, then tugged on it with her fingers. “Although I am teasing, I must admit I have seen many of our acquaintances run away with their tails between their legs, only to be later found cowering in some distant corner.”

“You forget, my lady, that those took to openly admiring, and on one occasion flirting with you before my very eyes..” His face and instantly tense torso more than made his feelings clear on the subject. “You are my Elizabeth,” his voice dipped an octave and she shivered, finding herself the focus of a stare she knew so well. “Mine to love, mine to protect, mine to…” he smirked and sexually licked his lips, “Mine to play with.”

“Your Elizabeth.” Musing on that for a moment or two, “I do not think I have your name written on my skin.”

If the narrowing of dark eyes did not tell her she had used the wrong sentiments, his reply certainly did.

“Then perhaps I have not been performing my husbandly duties as well as I should.” Closing the gap between them and pressing softening lips to her inner wrist, Darcy kept careful watch of her silent responses and smirked when he got the one he wanted.

Desire.

“Maybe I ought to… Play a little more with my favourite toy until she and everyone else knows she is mine.” Blunt teeth nipped the sensitive flesh and her fingers curled up. “Or maybe, I should spank mercy into her.” His eyes glinted and gleamed, the darkening depths hypnotising and addictive.

“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth gasped in shocked surprise, careful to keep her tone low, and snatched her wrist away, fingers rubbed away the lingering feeling of where he had toyed with her. “What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing so easy to explain, my Elizabeth.” The erotic lull in his vocals sent her senses into a spin and she fought back the urge to ask for more. “The times spent with Mr and Mrs. Bingley, as joyous as they are, have over time, brought to my attention just what an exceptionally and delightfully passionate woman I have married.”

To that, she had nothing to say. What could she say?

Continuing, Darcy reclaimed his hold on her hand and another kiss was bestowed. “Though Jane is undoubtedly sweet natured, she has not the lure and fire of your spirit and will.” He purposely paused to gauge her reaction, “And I have been longing to see how deep and hot that fire can burn.”

*~*~*~*~*

“I want you,” his voice brought Elizabeth back to the present. “Sunrise, sunset, and every hour in between.”

The words heightened the flame burning inside and her flesh was prickling in response. Eyes, glazed with the haze of wanton lust, stared heavily into the glass at her husband, seeing nothing but a passion that left her thighs growing weak from the ache in between.

“I want to touch, taste and kiss every part of your body.” Moist lips pressed teasingly light upon her neck and blunt teeth bit, his tongue soothing the reddening mark with sweeping lick. “Tell me what you crave Elizabeth, tell me what you need.”

Her cheeks turned red but her body reacted, even as she felt the weight of sin fall on her shoulders. Covered only by an exquisite dress, crafted by a tailor of Darcy’s choosing, her buttocks rocked back and pushed into him, the motion caused a low groan of appreciation. Taking firm hold of her hips and moving with her, he sought to tease and tantalise, to deny her what she wanted, until she complied with his every whim.

Sharp gasps were inhaled and Elizabeth’s eyes shone with the brilliance of diamonds as Darcy’s hands slid down her torso, talented fingers mapped and traced each curve in excite, knowing just what was under that dress simply made it all the sweeter.

Her thighs were parted and a hand placed at the apex, fingertips made circles against the heat emanating off the woman in his arms. He felt her, hot and wet, perfectly ready to take him all but refrained, wanting her to give up what secrets she may have.

“Tell me, my Elizabeth.” Darcy’s rich tone brushed her flushed face, “What is it you want?” Those digits pressed harder on her clit, the tiny bud sparked with fire and she felt the dull throb increase, her walls clenched down on emptiness and she buzzed with dissatisfaction. “Tell me,” he whispered right before he pulled away and left his wife shaking, with hands gripping the vanity for stability.

Elizabeth, no longer seeing his reflection behind her, slowly moved round to face him, eyes flashing with more than simple lust as she uttered a single word.

“You.”

*~*~*~*~*

Silk fluttered, like a gentle breeze, over her wrists and she started, heart beat elevated high and brought her blood to boil. Above her, Darcy remained impassive to the look of shock adorning his wife’s face. “Sir, I…”

“If you want me, my Elizabeth, then you will abide my wishes or you will be left here until dawn.”

Laying there on his bed, naked and legs splayed wide in readiness, embarrassment washed through her at the thought. Surely, he would not be so unkind as to follow his threat with the promised actions.

Eyes, already dark and hypnotic, spun with a hardened twinkle that countered her silent sentiments. “And I shall leave you here, unfulfilled and hungry for my touch, until you surrender yourself to me.”

“What are your wishes?” To her ears, her voice was weak and shaking as much as her body. His eyes seemed to melt her core as she found herself unable to look away, entranced by the light show of emotions, devilish and wicked, that stormed through his tigers’ eyes.

His mouth smiled and she stilled under him. “My wishes are many and I have not the patience to go through them all.” The feel of velvet steel upon her stomach was proof enough of his truth. “Be assured my lady, that I will share my fantasies but for now, I would much prefer to show you.”

One wrist was taken in his hand and placed at the wooden headboard, a calloused thumb stroked soft circles on her softer skin, his penetrating eyes never once leaving her face. The silk scarf, deep crimson in colour, was wound round and her other wrist voluntarily moved to where he wanted it, then the garment encased both wrists and was tied tight.

“Good girl,” Darcy murmured, rewarding his wife with sweet and promising kisses.

*~*~*~*

She watched through eyes of a hunted deer as Darcy settled himself on their bed, strong hands cushioned his head and legs, long and powerful, were stretched out and crossed at the ankles. “Strip,” was the order.

Breathing harshly and attempting to calm herself, Elizabeth concentrated fully on giving him what he wanted. The dress was raised high and calves, defined and strengthened by much walking, were first exposed.

“Higher.”

Thighs, softly curved and creamy skinned, led his gaze up to the shading of dark curls that decorated her femininity. Glistening with honeyed arousal and begging for more, the sweetness beckoning him to steal a taste.

“Take it off, Elizabeth.” Having her tease him like this was a favourite game of his, but not at this moment. “I dislike being kept waiting.”

Higher and higher still, her dress was moved until it dropped soundlessly to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a corset.

Darcy’s smile was feral, almost wild, as he openly stared at her, darkened orbs drinking in the sight he adored so much. “Turn around and take hold of the vanity.”

Her earlier position was reclaimed and once again, Elizabeth looked at her husband as he slowly approached behind her, this time his features were lit with sinful intent. Forcing to keep standing and her gaze on him as he approached.

His body, well built and powerful, moved with predatory sexuality that made her stomach roll with hunger and chest ache to breathe. Filling the air, the masculinity he exuded was touchable as it poured off him in unseen waves.

"You were bad to keep me waiting, my lady." Contradicting the tender caress of her trim waist, there was an underlying edge to his voice that made her tense. Against the soft swell of her buttocks, a wisp of suede placed her on alert even as a hot rush of liquid sex coated her thighs.

The leather tip was cool on her heated flesh as he moved it, in slow and inviting circles, up to the base of her spine where the corset began. "Did I not wait long enough to gain your regard and love, that you see fit to punish me?"

Leather met silk and Elizabeth's eyes involuntarily fell shut, a light moan escaped her parched throat as the intense atmosphere thickened. Over her abdomen and up the fine lacing, the tip travelled across the enhanced sloping of her breasts, touching to the point where her entire being pulsed with fire and need. The startling contrast of black kidskin on creamed skin blinded him, urged him to want too take more than he already had from his wife.

"I loved you for so long," Darcy never removed his sight from that in the mirror. "I had to watch as that man danced with you, fumbled and fawned over you."

Her mouth was rendered useless as the riding crop traced her chest and followed the breadcrumbs, the roughened material course on hardened nipples, even through her corset. "Please," Elizabeth begged at the taunting caresses and saw the delight wash over his face.

"Please what?" Guessing games were the only ones he did not like to play with his wife, he much preferred to hear her desires as they rolled from her luscious mouth. As a rosy red blush crept up her slender throat, Darcy took pleasure in seeing her as a new bride.

Blushing and sweet, alluring innocence tempered with bewitching seduction, his Elizabeth was all that he hoped for and so much more.

"Touch me, please just... Touch me."

Leaning close to whisper in the delicate shell of her ear, "No." Treating her to an indulgent and patient smile, Darcy left her after one final kiss of leather before pulling away. "Not yet. Tonight, you are going to climax for me before you climax with me."

Part 2


“I adore touching you like this, Elizabeth.” His voice was low and gruff, a direct response to his skilful hands playing her well. “It excites me”

Black leather drew patterns on her spine, sending licks of fire and ice crawling up her flesh, burning her cheeks and gripping her chest. “Does it please you?” Her small nod was not the desired response. “Answer me.” Accompanying his words, a delicate swish across her buttocks elicited an explicit gasp.

“Yes,” Elizabeth struggled to keep her eyes wide open and focused on the man behind her. Into her, the solid ridge of his erection slowly and teasingly moved and rocked, each sensuous motion stole her breath and brought her one step closer to hell.

“Does it make you wanton?” He smiled, attention drawn to the way leather smoothed over the surface of milky skin and delighted in how she shivered. No answer caused another swish, harder and more forceful, and she arched high. “Good girl. Show me how much my touch excites you"

Leather met skin and between her thighs a hot rush pooled, the delicious response beckoned his tongue to taste. Her graceful neck tipped back and her hair, waved and dark, cascaded down her spin to feel the ends tickling her skin. "Please," she begged, her body caving under the intense emotions. "I want you"

He chuckled in a way so different to his actions. "Only want?" The whispered had her stilling, body tense in readiness. "Do you not need me, Elizabeth? Do you not need me in your life, in your bed?"

Sounding out, leather kissing flesh burst his tune and he took a ragged breath, his eyes dropped low to see her firm buttocks painted a pretty red. His hand caressed and held, squeezed and toyed, every touch worked to bring her pleasure.

"Do you not need my hands, my mouth and tongue, making you wet?" Darcy watched as black brushed cream, the strike hard enough to leave a tiny imprint that she would feel all day. He smirked, pleased.

His lady would have something to remember his love making by.

Male fingers, thick and rough, fisted a handful of silky tress, the blunt tips soothed her head as he tugged. "Answer me"

Her skin stung with heat and pulsed each time he touched her there, but Elizabeth had no desire to stop him. "I need you, Will. In my life, in my bed... In my body"

She was not to proud to beg, and he liked that. Liked it when she came to him, her eyes and body wanting and asking, her plush pout sounding out what she needed from him.

*~*~*~*

He came to stand behind her at the window, an arm loosely around her slender waist as his fingers toyed absently with her curls. Darcy’s lips grazed her dewy cheek and he smiled as his bride relaxed into his body. The reflection in the window showed the reason for her summon as they became clear.

“I wanted you, my lady.” The soft whisper, breezy and warm, brought an unseen flutter of creamy eyelids. Sliding down the covered swell of her buttocks and increasing the pressure of his hand, he slowly raised her skirt until fingertips met the silk of her stocking. Rounded nails gently tickled and scratched the surface, the sensations had her flinching and him chuckling.

“I see your torture knows no bounds, sir.” Elizabeth glanced behind her, not wholly impressed with her husband’s actions. Her chastisement went unsaid as the look in fathomless eyes had her helpless to do anything but kiss him. Hardened and male, his lips manipulated hers into something sweet that made him hungry and her to moan.

The stocking pushed down, silk on warming flesh, and fingertips caressed her inner thigh, easing her legs apart and sliding up, searching for the place between. Teasing and devilish, strokes went higher until he felt her, all wet and wanting.

Shock widened her bright eyes and flushed her face, attention snatched from his touch to frantically dart towards the window, desperate to know if someone could see what he was doing to her. “Will, we are in plain view…”

“Yet, you do not wish me to stop.” Darcy’s rich murmur rumbled through her body, the sound alone caused her to hum her agreement. Fingers, rough and talented, drew patterns everywhere but where she needed, only listening to what he wanted her to feel. His arm tightened further, the long digit sliding and parting, opening her up and burning from the heat.

Hard and high, Darcy drove thick fingers further and felt his wife push down in demand for what she wanted. His erection pulled his trousers taut and uncomfortable, but that was easily ignored in favour of pleasing her. “Do you like this…” His thumb, slipping past slick folds, flickered lightly over her clit, making her eyes close and lips call his name.

“Or this…” Faster and more forceful, fingers moved within and Elizabeth felt it all happen to quickly. Her body throbbed and silk walls fisted his touch, the climatic high causing her to cry out loud.

She was close, he could feel it all around him. The heady scent of sex teasing his senses, the liquid honey coating his hand, the way she moved and opened up for him. As she tightened and turned hotter, Darcy retracted and left her unfulfilled. His wife would come to him, he would make certain of that.

Under the dazed and sultry eyes of his wife, Darcy raised glistening digits to his mouth and deeply inhaled the intoxicating scent. Tongue flicked out and he teased himself, the flavour of her brought a groan rumbling through his body and soul. The taste, so simple, was not enough to sate the hunger.

Between her legs, she was wet and wanting, in her chest, her heart was thumping and lungs were heaving. She watched him raise his fingers to his mouth, his lips part and he drank up the honey, his darkening orbs held her captive.

A feral smirk appeared, “You want more, my lady, then you only need ask”

*~*~*~*

The leather tip followed a path from the curve of her throat to the valley of her breasts, leaving a trail of goose-bumps in it’s wake. Bright eyes fluttered and lips bitten, the breathy moan swallowed back and her body needed, craved for he had to offer. Strong hands wiped her skin free of cool kidskin as fingers toyed and teased her with brushing touches, turned sunrise buds to a rosy red.

“I adore seeing you as this, my lady.” Darcy bestowed the most loving of kisses to her neck, his tongue bathing in the fragrance of lavender as he stole a taste. Against her naked buttocks, he was heavy and hard, ready to take her however he pleased. “Do you wish for me?” Yes, those sweet words would fall freely from her lips.

His breeches undone, and with skin on skin, eased between slick thighs to give everything and nothing. Elizabeth, stunned with the sudden and desired contact, hummed low and moved with him, urging him for what she wanted yet he did not give.

“Tell me,” Darcy hissed, displeased with her voiceless answer, “Do not make me wait for it, my Elizabeth. I do so hate to be kept waiting.” His patience, already thin, stretched tight like a bow string as he watched her in the mirror, her hips pushing back and trying to take him in.

“I want you,” her voice as a dove’s call, washed over him and sent a sliver of wicked delight through his veins. “I want you in me”

Not enough to satisfy, Darcy’s dark eyes glinted with something wild as she purposely disobeyed his wishes. “Where? Would you like to taste me on your lips? Feel me inside, making you climax? Or do you wish me here…” A finger swept across her lower pout and parted her mouth, dipping inside to show her what he meant.

*~*~*~*

Tigers’ eyes watched, fascinated and enchanted, as a dark ringlet wrapped around his finger, the chocolate shade a startling contrast to his skin. The strands, like the finest of satin, floated away from his touch as though a tender breeze broke the simmering heat. The curls separated and loosened, winding down her slender spine and drawing the blackened gaze to his wife laying with him.

He watched as her luscious pout, soft and pliable, turned shy and glistened from a tempting sweep of her tongue. That smile, as much as it made him complete, lured his mind to engage in the pursuits of lustful leisure.

Full of sin and devilish promises, his lips curled up, his intent clear and eyes hot. “My Elizabeth,” the whispered husk stilling her heart and pausing her breath. “Surely, there are more… Pleasurable activities for your mouth to please me by.” The blush tinting her cheeks red, the widening of her eyes, the expression of uncertainty, Darcy loved it all.

It delighted him to know he could make her feel as a blushing bride would.

“I have wanted for so very long, to feel your tongue, your lips, kissing me as I do you.” His hand left her hair and travelled across the her face and down her jaw, the rough pad of his thumb stroked her mouth, the pressure bestowed demanded she part her pout. “Do you not enjoy my intimate attentions?”

The feel of her husband between her thighs, quenching his thirst with the taste of her, still lingered and her legs opened invitingly. “I must confess sir, that your kisses do leave me in a state of bliss.” Her eyes burned and melted, her tongue flicked his thumb and Darcy drew in a breath that filled his chest. “If you are asking…”

Blunt teeth, white and straight, became visible as a smirk cut off her words. “I do not remember asking. My fantasies are many, if you will recall, and one of them is to have you kneel before me, ready to taste.” His breath hitched and body tensed, the picture he painted more than excited him. “Your full lips would part, timidly at first. Your eyes would raise to mine and look at me while you take me in. I would be hard in your softened mouth and warm on your tongue. How should you like to taste me?”

Swallowing and trembling at the images his gave, Elizabeth‘s mouth ran dry as her gaze roamed his relaxed figure, ending at the juncture of powerful thighs. She knew his game, knew what he would do, knew what he wished of her. “William, I beg you not to tease me with words and vows, only to leave me unsatisfied”

“That, my Elizabeth, is half of my fun”

*~*~*~*

Treating her stomach to his velvet fingers and teasing himself, Darcy roamed lower until he felt her, wet and sweet to touch. Always soft, always wanton, the heart of her ready to take all of what he had to give. Hot silk stretched tight around his shaft, the pulse of climax intense and heavy, honeyed arousal fell, fragrant and intoxicating, as he moved slow.

Deeper into her, covering himself in sugared sin and sex, he closed his eyes to the onslaught of ecstasy as fire shot through his veins. Slick and wild, a perfect fit, her every detail hand carved just for him, proving it so with each moan she made.

He watched her through the mirror, the fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her forehead and cheeks painted with a pretty blush, his wife’s reactions memorised and relished, almost enough to make him forget his game.

“Give me what I want, or pay the price.” Hazel eyes wide open now and focused on him, taking in the meaning etched on his rugged face. Between her thighs, his hand stilled and teased her with more as he held off, demanding she obey his wishes.

“Elizabeth.” Silky soft and gently sung, the warning echoed through her and she responded, body tightened around those skilful digits and hot rain covered his touch. “I have shown patience today, kept control and treated you with the strongest of love, yet you insist on keeping me waiting”

Shaking and still so timid, her hand moved to cover his, slender fingers entwined with his and she felt the heat. “Good girl.” Rewarding his wife, Darcy increased pressure on her and found the place that drove her wild. Strong and unrestrained, relentlessly pursuing her climax with all the power he had, fingertips pulled back and guided her in, his eyes never leaving her face.

Elizabeth, upon feeling the softness, fought the waves and ceased her motions, hoping he would give respite from the increasing intensity flowing through her veins. “Please?”

Darcy kissed her cheek, loving, reassuring, not merciful. He wanted this, wanted to see as she opened herself up, made herself ready for what he would eventually give. “Yes, my lady, tell me you like this”

Slicker than water but just as lush, liquid sex was hot to touch and she was drawn to move harder, faster, all the while keeping him in her sight. His eyes burned as she obeyed and body shook, the urge to end this and take his wife evident within his piercing gaze.

Softerwetterhottertighter, those velvet muscles contracted and she felt it all, head dizzy under the onslaught of pleasure so intense, it left her breathless and her husband’s name a cry on parched lips. It was drugging, addictive, wild and heady, already ebbing away to leave her wanting more.

He praised her, bestowed sweet words of love and lust in her ear, brought her down and relished in the way her moans sounded out her passion. Lips curled up and eyes full of satisfaction, “Now you are ready for me”

Part 3

“Now you are ready for me.”

Those words, spoken in a melodious whisper, brought an ache between her thighs that made her body tremble and skin to burn. Breaths of air barely passed parted lips as eyes, the shade of gold, reflected all his desires. It was easy to ignore hard wood against her when strong fingers slipped up and over, inside and out, eliciting tiny moans of pleasure from his wife’s supple throat.

Caged by him and trapped by hunger, Elizabeth did not wish to escape if she could, but bolding pressed further into the possessive hold tightening around her.

“Good girl.”

Darcy’s firm mouth slid across the sweat slicked flesh, his tongue tasted the heat and need spilling from every pore. The soft curves of her buttocks cushioned his erection as he moved forward, his darkened gaze never once left the shining ones staring back. Down and further down, pushing and pushing until he found her open and wet and wanton. The scent of sex filled the air in thick and unseen waves, the spiced fragrance of wife teased his mouth and lips, made him want to sate thirst building in his chest.

Inch by solid inch, smooth velvet became enveloped by raw silk and soft walls as they clutched his shaft over and over, her clit, left untouched, throbbed with building pressure as Darcy went further. Hands, steady and confident, paved a delicate trail over gently rounded hips, memorising every single spot.

God, yes. So tight, so hot, so wet. So perfect. Darcy teased her, short and shallow movements, never more. He wanted to bring her to climax one more time before he brought her ecstasy. The need to move, to drive hard and deep, to brand her inside and out, was almost impossible to resist.

Satin muscles stretched to fit the thickness filling her, the velvety feel became coated in heady sex. All that sweetness just for him and him alone. He could taste the honey bathing his tongue and drenching his lips. “Beautiful, so beautiful,” he murmured, looking down to see what she felt.

Darkened eyes watched, fascinated, as legs parted invitingly. His roughened palm slid up her back, slender and slick with sweat, thick fingers splayed out to caress a curved shoulder. He was all male and heavy between her thighs, the tip of his erection velvety smooth and deliciously glistening as he teased his wife with what she wanted. Darcy waited patiently, allowed himself time to decide whether to give it to her good and hard, or soft and slow.

A smirk, which went unseen by Elizabeth, flashed once before disappearing.

The first stroke was powerful, taking her by surprise, causing her back to arch and the caress to intensify. Hellfire and brimstone filled her veins, closed her eyes, and hands to grip the wood, the tingle of pain in her fingers ignored. “Oh God, please,” lust and sin laced her voice, turning it thick and throaty.

“God?” Darcy drawled his tone simple, aloof. “Can God do this?” His hips moved and she cried out, the tip of him reaching the place that made her weak. She went to touch and he pulled back, taking cruel delight in her torment. “Do you remember, my Elizabeth, the last time you did not scream my name?”

*~*~*~*

Seconds, minutes, hours, she did not know how long she had been suspended in bliss. Her slender fingers tangled in her husband’s dark curls, holding him close, as his tongue licked a trail of fire between her spread legs. The moist tip twirled and taunted her clit; a calloused thumb dazzled her sex with rough strokes and promises of penetration.

Darcy served to feed his appetite for her, using his lips to press calming kisses over her while he lapped up the luscious honey that poured from her body. Her hips left the mattress, demanding for more, her mouth begged and pleaded for him to give her the orgasm she craved.

“God,” the sound was high pitched with need and breath lodged in her throat. The pulses inside grew heavier and her body got hotter, yet he had ceased to leave fisting emptiness.

Muscular hands held her still and he looked at her in mild chastisement. “Lover,” Darcy’s head shook gently as his tongue swept out to capture the liquid heat soaking his face. “I do not believe God is the one tasting you.”

Elizabeth would have laughed, if it had not been for the deceptively light expression staring at her. “Sir?” Even to her ears, her voice was choked and thick, her body full of sexual tension that would not be released until he got what he wanted.

“Please Will....” Her pretty eyes sparkled, like amber jewels, as they filled with tears even as they flashed bright with anger. She hated when he did this to her, but her body could not help but love it. Teased and teasing, leading him on, beckoning him with flirtations and coy expressions. All of it served to unlock her passion for the man adoringly gazing at her.

A finger wagged at her and cut off her pleas, “A little late, my lady. Perhaps I was not doing enough to have my name on your lips…” Not hesitating to see his wife’s reaction, he powerfully moved her legs, first one then the other onto broad shoulders, and spread her wide and helpless to his oral assault.

The instant she felt his tongue driven deep and the heat of his mouth combine with hers, Elizabeth arched high, her back bow tight, and moaned his name, a hot flush crept up her face and neck to turn her creamy skin pink. He ate her up, devoured each and every inch of honeyed flesh he could, savoured the taste on his tongue until he felt her opening then contracting.

Fingers skirted her mound and toyed with the dark thatch of hair, playing with the dewy folds and teasing her with more.

This time, she would scream his name.

*~*~*~*

His forehead lay against the nape of her neck, dark and damp hair mixed with hers, his eyes transfixed on the sight of his erection sliding and slipping between her supple thighs. His chest rumbled with deep groans as he moved deeper, his fingers clenched stiffly around her hips, sure to mar the flawless expanse with light marks.

Elizabeth felt his breath coming in hot pants that burned her flesh and his slick lips brush the heat with feathery kisses which made her shiver and shake.

“Touch me,” Darcy hissed, blunt teeth nipped and bit, leaving the tiniest love bites on her neck. There would be no doubting just who she belonged too. Him. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and she was his mistress, his wife, his lover, his to spoil and shower with expensive gifts, his to pleasure and to love.

In every way a woman could be, Elizabeth Darcy was his.

Her hand was an easy fit for his larger one and he took her right one to make her feel him. Rougher digits slid between hers, shifted her strokes to caress his rigid shaft and nails to gently brush the sensitive orbs nestled tight against her core. She closed her fist, causing his powerful hips to jerk and buck, pushing high and hard into her.

Elizabeth moaned, her eyes shut out the world to focus on the onslaught of hellish bliss.

Darcy’s grip became firmer around hers, clenching and unclenching, his body bristled as pleasure shot through every nerve. Her hot little hand swiftly moved up then down, creating sensations of heat and light wherever she touched. “Wet, so damn wet.”

Harder, faster, hotter, tighter, more, God she wanted more. Needed more. The vanity hit off the wall, trinkets fell careless to the floor, it did not matter, and nothing mattered. Skin slapped against skin, heavy balls kissed slick folds and masculine fingers found her clit. He twirled and rolled the softness there, smoothing honeyed sex all over, just for him, all for him.

Just how it should be.

*~*~*~*~*

He silently watched her, her untied hair glimmered under the red glow of firelight and her face flushed with her closeness to the heat. She looked so pure, so peaceful, as she sat reading in her favorite chair. Darcy leaned back in his own seat and simply looked at his wife, enjoying the companionable quiet surrounding them.

It was rare lately that he was able to spend some time with Elizabeth, and any opportunity, no matter how small, was cherished.

Darcy cleared his throat and waited for her to attend him.

She did naught.

“Lover?” He watched again, pleased the improper word could still heighten her colour.

Elizabeth finally brought her gaze out of the book to grant her husband his wish of attention. At times, he could be a child when he was not the main focus of her notice, still she did not mind at all. An eyebrow arched as her mouth flickered in amusement. That man had charm in abundance when he wanted.

“Might I encourage you to take a turn about the room?” Darcy stretched his legs, long and lean, out in front of him and allowed a hand to lay relaxed upon a muscled thigh. Reflecting the richly shaded flames, her eyes dazzled him and followed the movement to see the forming arousal hidden by pristine trousers.

The book was placed aside and forgotten about as she rose with a feline grace, drawing her body taut until her robust physique became released of languid ease. “Do you not wish to join me?” She asked, her slipped feet swished quietly against the floor as she walked. “I assure you it is rather refreshing.”

“I wish to admire your figure,” he replied, undaunted by the implications, and shifted, his hand inched further up his thigh, teasing and thick digits skimmed the visible ridge of his hardening state.

His wife blushed, and Darcy was enchanted. “I am waiting.”

Elizabeth set a sway to her hips as she sauntered past him, all the while feeling tigers’ eyes track the motions with a voracious gleam. Her back curved and she extended her spine, mimicking how she appeared to him in bed. “Mmm, I do believe I should thank you,” she spoke as though nothing was going on. “This is most beneficial.”

The buttons on his trousers were opened, one by one, until the discomfort surrounding his erection had gone. “My lady, you tease me,” Darcy’s palm was rough against the smooth flesh, his fingers spanning the girth of his shaft and tips circled the tightness at the base of his shaft. “Remove your dress, I want look at you.”

Within moments, the dress was gone and pooling at her feet, Elizabeth looked at her husband for instruction. She could feel the tingling start at the apex of her legs and he had not laid one finger upon her yet.

Darkening and wind swept storms clouded those wild eyes as his gaze roamed over her figure, taking in each curve. Right from her legs, toned from walking and hidden by stockings, to the deep swell of her cleavage, held in place by a simple corset. Her hair hung in chestnut waves, framing her face and decorating her shoulders, adding a weight of sensuality he had never known.

She moved for him, turning in a slow circle designed for show. “Do you admire, sir?”

“You have me hard,” Darcy's little control and patience snapped, his hand picked up in pace and pressure, the tip of his erection glistened with sex and she licked her lips in anticipation. He thought of how lush she would be; all hot and wet and snug around his shaft, her body eager to take what he wanted to give.

He wanted her lips sliding down him and her mouth swallowing him whole, with her hungry tongue lapping up the pent up desire. He wanted to watch her perform, wanted to see his wife use her body for his pleasure, wanted to watch as she ran her hands over herself and brought herself to peak.

The hardness in his grip throbbed once, twice, and Darcy decided. “Dance for me, lover, make me climax”

*~*~*~*~*

His body was all around her, his hand between her thighs, tormenting, teasing, driving and wild, the gentle parry from moments ago turned into a ride which left her gasping for breath.

“You need me,” Darcy’s voice ricocheted the physical demand below as he worked her up.

“Yes,” Elizabeth arched and squirmed, trying to pull him deeper and harder.

“You want me.”

Her neck fell back onto his shoulder, his mouth sipped kisses from burning skin, his control spiraling away as intensity built up inside. Liquid fire melted and coated him in sex, the sound of him fucking his wife echoed in his ears. It was never enough, it would never be enough.

Silken walls closed tightly around him, a fresh rush of heat spilled from her core, he moved just a little faster, giving everything and taking more. Her lung ached with dry air which parched her mouth then she felt it happen. Feminine muscles unyielding around him, her body tense and sharp gasps snatched, her nails dug into his thigh and left pale pink welts as the waves gradually ceased to leave her free to enjoy his.

“You love me,” once, twice, thrice, and the pulsing buzz of climax hit. Darcy gripped his wife and muffled his loud groans, keeping still inside her to give it all, and then it was over all too quickly. His cheek, soaked with sweat, leaned heavily against her and he chuckled, sated for now.

“Will?” Elizabeth’s voice, once clear, was throaty and husky with experience.

It took some effort, but he managed to lift twinkling eyes to meet those of his wife. His mouth furled up into a very satisfied smile. Reluctantly but knowing he had too, Darcy slipped from her body, unwilling to relinquish the urge to take the bereft look from her beautiful face. “I was not too rough?” His gaze glanced down.

“Be quiet, husband of mine, and take me to bed. You should know better than anyone how little sleep we shall have at Netherfield these coming weeks.” Elizabeth watched with a widening smile as her husband’s face visibly fell. “Oh come now, it will not be so bad.”

“Of course not, my Elizabeth,” the sarcasm was cutting, yet merely served to amuse. “We shall only be forced to live by society’s rules of not spending the entire night together. Foolish, foolish rules.” However, the sight of his wife undoing her corset mollified him somewhat.

“I’m sure Jane and Mr. Bingley…” His wife looked at him, shocked, as he shook his head. Was sharing a bed the entire night so frowned upon that not even her sister did it? Personally, she could never imagine sleeping without him. It would get far too cold. “Oh, then perhaps we ought to spend time at the inn.”

“Or we could stay at Pemberley, or go to Town… Yes,” Darcy appeared so serious that she could not hold back a chuckle.

“Do shut up Will dearest, and come to bed. We leave early tomorrow, and it would not do to be arrive late. What could possibly ruin these few weeks for us?”

Part 4

The ride to Hertfordshire was bumpy at times and mostly spent in companionable silence as Darcy and his wife passed the moments reading and stitching. Sunlight streamed through the windows to highlight slices of dark red that ran through her chocolate curls. Her skin was that of peaches, complete with a soft and rosy hue delicately spread across her cheeks. His eyes darted back and forth between his book and wife, one moment admiring a talented author, and next the beautiful woman sat opposite him.

Ivory was his favorite color for her dresses, he loved the way her hair contrasted so prettily with shade, and so he made sure to purchase at least two gowns each time he was in town, despite her nonsensical notions of an overflowing wardrobe. Darcy shook his head and wondered when she would realize that spending money on her was his best pastime.

“This brings back memories, does it not?” Elizabeth’s quiet voice sighed and disturbed the way his thoughts were heading. “Our last trip involving this particular carriage and Netherfield, you had the audacity to imply my mother was a brazen liar for embellishing on her youthful beauty.”

The raising of a single eyebrow and quirking of wicked lips were her replies. “Indeed,” Darcy said after a second or two and waited to say the words which would be burning the tip of her tongue.

“If you’re very lucky this time, she may kiss and tug your cheek; all the while commenting on how much you have grown since she saw you last.” As though she had never spoken, she calmly kept working on the small details of her husband’s favorite flower. It was not until hazel eyes looked through darkened lashes, than she saw his unimpressed expression and slowly smiled.

“You are no wife of mine, miss!” His words were evenly uttered as his head shook from side to side, the chastisement complete with feigned disdain brimming in his gaze. Images and visions of his mother-in-law fussing and coddling over him as a small boy filled his imagination, and he shivered comically. “That is a grown man’s terror. I know you mean to tease, but you should save your breath for I will turn a deaf ear to your words.”

Elizabeth, fighting the urge to ease his torment, merely smiled serenely and did not hesitate to say more. “Oh come now Mr. Darcy, speak the truth and admit you enjoy being the very centre of mama’s world, and adore being her most favored son.”

“I would not be quite so favored, if I were not quite so rich.” It was only the slight twitching of his mouth which prevented his wife taking offence.

“For shame, sir! If you were not quite so rich, you would still be as handsome and as…” She paused to recollect her mother’s precise descriptor regarding Darcy. “Oh yes, charming enough to tempt the birds from their nests.” She watched his face blush red, but took no pity on him. “You are very well liked my dear, perhaps I ought to have warned father about competition for his wife’s affections…”

“Woman!” He yelled, raising his book and both hands in clear submission. “I implore you go no further. I ought to disown you on grounds of cruelty, or perhaps sell you to gypsies so that I may run off with your pin money!”

Her smile soon turned into a brilliant grin that he had little choice but to respond. “Then you would be ever richer and my mother’s affections will surely be yours to cherish.”

“For all my wealth, I am helpless and wed to a devilish minx against whom I have no defense.” Darcy muffled his groans in his hands; his plea for heavenly assistance went unanswered. “I was so taken in by a pleasing figure and alluring eyes, that I never bore witness to the wickedness hiding beneath.”

Elizabeth laughed outright and needed to hold her stomach as her muscles flinched in response. “You have no-one to blame but yourself William, those earrings truly delighted her. Or should I say the thought behind them. As was I. You are a wonderful man and I love you so very dearly. Still, I hope you learned your lesson in fraternizing with your wife’s mother.”

“I have, most fervently,” Darcy exclaimed, “Next time, I shall say they are from Wickham!”

A sharp gasp escaped and a gloved hand smothered the laughter sounding out in choked giggles. “You are not that evil sir,” Elizabeth stated and wiped her eyes, her body shook until the amusement gradually faded to mild chuckles.

“Are you saying I would not dare to stitch him up? You cannot know all I suffered at the hands of that man; believe it when I say revenge would not be above me.” He leaned forward as though to share a secret and indicated she copy. “I wager one whole pound that I would be evil enough to throw Wickham to the wolf. What do you say lover, are you in on my plan to give him the attention he constantly craves?”

“I must say I am growing rather fond of this endearing yet roguish side to my gentlemanly husband. Yes, I shall see your wager and raise you a kiss.”

“A pound and a kiss?” Darcy murmured, his gaze drawn to her mouth by her words. He licked his lips in anticipation of tasting hers. So full, so soft, delicious to kiss and touch. A rush of hot air flickered across those lips and made them part, inviting him to do as he pleased. Use his mouth pleasure or his erection, it mattered not as it was his decision to make.

The tip of a finger traced a line down the centre of her pout, his thumb came up to trap her lower lip and gently tug. He followed by caressing the delicate flesh of her throat and warming the swell of her breasts. “I love your mouth, my Elizabeth; it gives me trouble and smart remarks, yet inspires me to want more. One kiss from you and I am driven to distraction.”

Hazel eyes fluttered shut as her husband’s lips hovered above hers, his breath hot and hit her skin in measured pants. “Come sit, you are too far from me.” She moved over on her side to make room for Darcy and happily patted the space provided.

“Sweet seductress,” he murmured and carelessly threw her needlework to his now empty place, hastily taking up the offer from his wife. “Mind reading?” Was the question when she lowered the window blind. “A bewitching talent lover, need I be worried you are dabbling in the dark arts?”

“Would you have me hung if I were?” Elizabeth leaned into him and breathed in his scent, committed it to memory and slid her hand onto his thigh to feel the solid muscle hidden by trousers.

He could not resist such a bold and wanton display of lust. “No indeed. I would not have such perfect skin marred by unsightly marks caused by a noose.” Darcy moaned low when he felt nimble fingers slide further up his thigh. “Do not start what we have no time to finish.”

“By my calculations, we have an hour’s worth of travel remaining. Surely that is enough time to indulge in kisses.” She felt the tension forming hard close to her hand and moved higher, skirting the solid ridge of his sex with too light a touch. “Will, we shall not have much time for ourselves. Can we not play a little? I will do as you ask.”

Refusing his wife would be a sin.

“Then kiss me.”

On hearing his voice dip low and melodious, Elizabeth snapped her gaze to meet burning tigers’ eyes, and watched her husband watch her. She did not have time to react before Darcy’s mouth was on hers, his lips hard and demanding as he parted her pout with his able tongue. Taking control and deepening the kiss, muffling a pleasured mewl with bruising pressure.

Her lips were soft and pliable, open and wanting more than his warm tongue between them. She tasted of red wine, warm and tangy; the flavour burst in his mouth and roused his appetite. His hand cupped her cheek and roughened fingers slid up to tangle with her ringlets, enjoying the feel of silky curls winding round his digits. He tugged her closer and raggedly moaned when her hot hand took hold of his erection; moving slowly along the length and making him buck.

“God yes,” Darcy tore away from her mouth and seductive kisses, his jaw tensed and back arched, a large hand covered hers to guide the erotic motions. “I like that,” he whispered through a jolt of lust shooting straight to his sex, causing his stomach to flex in response. He fumbled with the fastenings to his trousers and watched as his wife curled her hand tightly round his shaft.

Elizabeth stroked slowly at first, growing aroused at the way he hardened in her palm and needing to taste the moisture made by excitement. She bent low and inhaled the scent of sex and maleness emanating from him, and used her tongue to lick fire up and over him, her lips feeling the heavy pulse as he increased in size.

Slender digits spanned his girth and her palm amplified in pace and pressure, occasionally brushing against his tightening balls. Her wet tongue rapidly flicked over the responsive tip and her hand moved as though to feed her hungry mouth. Liquid heat pooled between supple thighs that rubbed together to ease the ache building inside.

Darcy grasped the neckline of his wife’s dress; his fingertips trembled as he slid down to tease a nipple to a rigid peak. Elizabeth’s moan vibrated along his sex and spine, his touch flittered roughly across her breast in reaction to the bliss stinging every nerve.

His head fell back and chest rumbled with whispered grunts at each slide of soft lips, his fingers tugged and taunted the pert little peak, toying with it until she hummed with pleasure. The muscles in his neck and jaw were tense, his shoulders stiff and thighs flexed. The movement of the carriage rocked him up and slid him past those pouting lips and deep into the hot cavern of her mouth.

He was like a rock on her tongue and his hand was going wild on her breast, Elizabeth peered up through her lashes to see her husband in a state of rapture.

She wondered if she could swallow more of him.

“Be still,” Elizabeth left his sex bereft of her lush lips long enough to speak, and Darcy glanced down at her out of glazed irises. Her hand forced his hips to stay seated and silently ordered him to obey; her husband briefly speculated on what she was to do.

Carefully and cautiously, inch by inch, she took him deep then deeper still, hearing him groan and feeling him throb and swell. She relaxed her throat and closed her eyes, focusing entirely on giving her husband nothing but pleasure.

Darcy gasped a lungful of air at the sensation and his irises became fixed on the sight of her swallowing him whole. A long and drawn out moan was her payment, and she responded by going down that bit further, only stopping when her nose brushed against the dark thatch of curls decorating the base of his shaft. Gently, Elizabeth hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard.

His hand left her breast and tangled in her hair, fingers grasped a handful of hair. Pressure built and built, his sex throbbed and burned, his hips wildly bucked as hot bursts left his body to fill her mouth. She felt him swell and pulled back a little, ready to take what he gave. Bathing her tongue in the taste and savouring him until the next time, Elizabeth eased his softening sex between her lips and slowly, she lapped up the reward and laid her head on his lap.

Darcy stared down into contented hazel eyes and struggled to gain control over his laboured breaths. His voice was not yet in use and his body twitched as his climax gradually faded to a treasured and erotic memory. Deft digits left chocolate ringlets messy to lightly caress her features, a wicked grin worked it’s way across his face.

“Yes,” he managed to say through a forming chuckle. “I see an hour was enough for some kisses.”

Elizabeth laughed and sat upright, a sigh escaped as she looked down to his opened trousers, the sign of satisfaction evident in his now flaccid sex. “You are now in my debt lover, and I expect full payment at the next available opportunity.”

“There is still plenty of time before we reach Hertfordshire. I shall prove it…”

*~*~*~*

Finally, after countless greetings and super, Mr and Mrs Darcy were able to settle down in the music room of Netherfield, where Elizabeth found the tiring journey from Derbyshire to Hertfordshire begin to catch up with her. Though she stifled a small yawn and blinked away the start of sleep, she was loath to leave the sister she had not seen in far too long.

She peered around the room and offhandedly admired what she saw; the piano sat currently unused in a corner with a plant for company and there was a small selection of sheets to choose from resting on top the instrument. Yes, the few changes made by Jane were done with taste.

“Perhaps you ought to retire, my love.” Darcy’s hand came to rest on the small of his wife’s back, rubbing slow and soft circles, pleasing himself as much as her. “You appear positively exhausted. I am sure your sister and Bingley will not mind in the least.”

Elizabeth smiled at him and affectionately touched his wrist, taking comfort from his warmth. It took all she had not to curl up next to him and rest for a short time. Still, she would not surrender. “I am well,” her words were punctuated by a small yawn and he chuckled.

“You ought to try being an obedient wife, my Elizabeth; I have it on good terms that it can be quite pleasing.” He took the empty tea cup from her hand and stole a caress of slender fingertips, using the moment to show his concern with a discerning glance at her face.

“An obedient wife? Are there such things?” She asked with blinking hazel eyes and he was simultaneously enchanted and irritated by her stubbornness. “More to the point, would you want such a thing?”

Darcy looked around, satisfied no-one was listening before speaking to her in a husky voice that had her breath lodging in her throat. “Perhaps you should be a proper wife while we are here.” His tongue suggestively swept across his lower lip and a tingle tickled at the juncture of her thighs, causing her cough and shift in her seat.

His look was like a lover’s caress; she could feel her skin prickle with heat and breathing deepened with arousal. Seducing her in front of her family as a shameless hussy. Hateful man!

Elizabeth, torn between shock at his openness and desire at the implication, leaned close to her husband and slyly placed his hand on her knee. Her colour heightened and she squirmed, eyes now fully wide awake and heart beginning to thump heavily in her chest.

“I should like to be your wife while we are here, Will.”

“Be his wife while you are here?” The confused yet humorous tone of Mrs Thomas startled Darcy and Elizabeth into snapping their attention from each other towards the sister of their host. Aside from a new name and cap, Miss Bingley had not changed at all since her marriage to a Mr Henry Thomas. “Are you not his wife at Pemberley?”

Mrs Thomas allowed her gaze to roam the room, her lips pulled into a taut and almost mocking smile. “Not a wife in her own home. Can you imagine?” A closed mouthed chuckle escaped as if to insinuate a joke.

“She is not a wife at Pemberley, Mrs Thomas, and I would not have her so.” Darcy spoke up, silencing the woman with an even tone and arched brow. She had his mind and interest for a few moments, before he turned an intensifying stare on his wife and watched as she blushed pink.

"She is queen.”

Part 5

Though she dearly loved to have her husband naked and warm beside her, Elizabeth was not one to complain of the luxury from having a large and comfortable bed to oneself. Her arms and legs straightened and stretched, taking up most of the bed, while splayed fingers took the rest.

The novelty of having a full bed to herself quickly wore off upon the realization that Darcy seemed resolute on not joining her. She braced her weight on her palms and eased her body upright, frowning eyes locking onto the door to her room and irritation creeping in when it did not open.

A proper wife, he had said.

Did being a proper wife mean she had to wait in bed, alone and lonely, until he saw fit to grace her with his presence? Hateful man!

Elizabeth smiled as she recalled the times she had been a willing participant of obedience. There were moments when she had giggled and blushed as a young maiden, there were moments when she had behaved as a wantonly, and there had been moments when she had been his equal.

All of which had been by his command.

The bed was growing cold and longing for her husband’s warmth had her arms curling around her body, warding off the soft chill. Her room was silent, almost deathly so, without whispered words and a beating heart to lull her to sleep. The moon was full and bright, the haunting glow filtered through the curtains to bathe the chamber with a gentle glow, while the weaker shine of stars were kept out.

She rose, the mattress creaked quietly and her bare feet padded across the floor, taking her to the covered window. Easing the fabric apart, Elizabeth leaned against the cool glass and shivered, her eyes locked on the midnight sky. A fingertip traced the path of a tiny drop of water as it fell from top to bottom, leaving a stream of dew in its wake.

The door was soundly pushed open and but she did not turn, instead sighed and smiled, happiness unseen but felt.

“Mrs. Darcy.” Darcy’s voice washed over her, the sound low, melodious, and comforting.

Elizabeth then looked to him, irises glazing over at the pleasing sight of her husband standing in the doorway. A broad shoulder rested against the solid wood and his head tilted, a lopsided smile flickering. Shadows danced across his face and darkened his looks, his eyes deep, wild, intense.

His stare was impenetrable as he took in the sight of her, standing at the window and bathing in the glow from outside. She was bewitching, with raven hair dazzling against silvery skin. Moonlight and magic.

“Sir?”

Pushing away from the entrance, Darcy entered the room and eased the door shut behind him, locking them in and the world out. “I wish for attentions from my wife, and she shall give them to me. Come.”

A finger beckoned her to the centre of the room; brilliant hazel orbs tracked his every move as he circled her, darkened eyes appraising his prize. Elizabeth heard each breath inhaled, even and deep, watched his chest rise and fall until she felt his presence behind her and a fingers breezing under her hair.

“Look at you, so soft, so sweet…” His nose was cool on the nape of her neck, the temperature change swift and she shivered. Fingers entwined and toyed with her hair, enchanted orbs watched the moonlight thread waves of silver through the tussled strands. Her scent was rich and her skin chilled, lips were pouted and eyes alluring

“Tell me, wife” Darcy murmured his soft whisper like falling leaves across her bare flesh. “How does a man hold a star in his hand?”

A puff of warm air fluttered across her neck, his lips brushed the smooth surface, and her eyes slid shut. Her arms were raised and she expected him to remove her chemise, but he did not. In lieu, his hands skimmed and felt her curves, fingertips skirting the soft swell of her breasts and going down to hold her waist.

The cotton material was simple, yet flimsy and erotic. Darcy hardened as he brought her body back and against pressed his hips forward, letting her feel his wishes. Her buttocks were firm and tight, toned from countless countryside walks, and his hands gripped and squeezed, pulling and cushioning his shaft with softness.

“Mmm,” his chest vibrated with the low hum, heat slivered down her spine as he moved closer. “Go,” a hand gently pushed her away from him, “Lie on the bed.”

Elizabeth could not feel the floor on her feet as she walked to the bed, her heart thumped in her chest and the echo of blood thundered in her ears.

Darcy watched his wife crawl onto the mattress, her dress hugging the curve of her waist, the swell of her buttocks, her body moving with feline grace. She turned and the mattress squeaked in response, he smiled at the way her mind would think of that.

“We must be silent; or rather you must be silent. I do not wish to be distracted or disturbed.” He came to stand at the foot of the bed and simply looked at her, his eyes eating her up. “Raise your gown.”

Slowly, delicate ankles were revealed, shapely calves and the tops of supple thighs. Each inch of sweet skin brought a throb of lust to his body, and yet he appeared impassive to it. The urge to take what he wanted passed through his mind, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Under the intrigued hazel gaze, Darcy closed the curtains with and the chambers plummeted into darkness, with only a weak light managing to leak through. He did not appreciate the shadows and shade shrouding Elizabeth, as it hid her from him and he liked to watch. Still, he observed, she seemed to find it exciting.

Her expression was one of anticipation, lips were breathing raggedly and eyes were wide, inquisitive to his wishes. Through the shadows and shade, he witnessed a soft blush staining her cheeks a pale red. He walked her way, each slow step taken with deliberation, working to heighten her senses.

He braced his weight on one knee and eased on the bed, a hand stroked up her legs as his body covered hers. The fabric of his garments tickled her flesh, causing her to shiver and her thighs to part.

“I want you,” he murmured, his mouth just out of reach and Elizabeth tried to capture a kiss, but he pulled back. Frustration crinkled at her brow and he chuckled, enjoying toying with her. “Do you want to be kissed, wife?”

“Will…” His name was long and drawn out, evident of her aggravation. Again, she reached up to take his lips, and again he pulled back. Annoyance replaced the mild aggravation, and Elizabeth went to wrap her arms around his neck too bring him to her.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Darcy chastised with a clack of his tongue, and one by one, took her hands to pin them by her head, leaving her open to his every whim. “A proper wife does not move when accepting her husband.”

Her body arched high and into his, hoping to tempt him into giving her something, anything, to relieve the ache building between her legs.

“Be still.” His warning was silky and smooth. “You would not wish me to leave you?”

Her eyes went wide, “You would not dare!” Her husband was surely not capable of such cruelty.

He chuckled, his breath hot against her lips as he teased and taunted. “Do you want to test that theory?” When she said naught in response, Darcy merely grinned and began to move away from her, relieving her body of his weight. He hovered closely over her mouth and watched her full lips swell in anticipation, slowly pushing her legs apart with a solid thigh.

She felt his muscle hard and warm and between her legs, the pressure he put directly on her clit caused a moan to bubble up inside her throat. One look of warning had Elizabeth struggling to swallow the sexual sound and bit her lip, a deep and ragged breath taken in.

A flush of liquid heated his thigh and he increased the pressure, eyes never left her pleasure filled face. He felt her hips begin to move against him, her nostrils flaring with effort at keeping her moans quiet. Small hands slid around his body to cup his buttocks, fingers squeezing the firmness and pulling him closer.

The dull ache burned and throbbed, female muscles fisted the emptiness and closed lips stifled a cry. Her body swayed, slowly working herself up, getting faster and harder, until eyes were shutting tight and her back was arching. The bed creaked louder as the edge bounced off the wall, the mattress bounced under her motions.

Strong hands reluctantly took hold of her waist and forced her hips motionless, keeping her firmly pressed down into the bed, his mouth still teasing hers with a kiss. “I will leave you unsatisfied, my Elizabeth.”

Outside, the moon disappeared behind a cloud and the room plummeted into total darkness, the sense of touch heightened in reply.

His voice low and languid, the words wicked and wild, raising the intense sensuality he was bestowing on her. “I am going to touch you wherever I choose and you are going to love it,” he grinned at the sharpness of his wife’s gasp.

Thick digits slid under her gown and moved high, he could not see but he could feel. Her skin was smooth, always smooth, and she was hot enough to melt. The curve of her thigh met his fingers; he trailed a line of fire up her parting legs and did not stop until roughened fingertips fluttered across her core.

Elizabeth started, not expecting such intimacy so soon, and she did not make a sound of pleasure nor did she react.

“Good girl.” Darcy murmured and rewarded her with a gentle pet that elicited a muffled whimper. She was soft and slick, opening up for him and he grunted with the effort of restraint.

A single digit dipped inside, she struggled not to squirm or moan at the sensation. He relished in the fragrant wave of sex that rose up from between her legs and went deeper; his thumb gliding up to graze and toy with her clit, pearl hard yet soft and his knuckles brushed the sensitive folds.

Her mouth formed a silent mewl and he smiled indulgently.

Liquid silk coated his hand and muscles gripped his finger, clutching him over and over in a wet fist that drove him harder. The heel of his palm was boiling when he twisted his hand, the talented digit swirling around inside to hit the place that made her weak and want to scream.

Elizabeth remained silent and still, the only sign of lust was the blood on her bitten lip and her own fingers, more slender than his, tangling for purchase in the bed sheets.

Slowly, Darcy eased a second digit down the honeyed petals and groaned at the first pulse of climax vibrating through her. Her breathing was sharp and ragged, her eyes were glazing over and her hips were moving, but only barely. His finger smoothly entered her without resistance, and he followed with another.

Elizabeth felt herself stretching tight around his touch, the stroking against that place increased and so did the pressure. His caress was the devil’s kiss, curling up and rubbing, hard and swift, his fingers brought her orgasm up and she was helpless to respond. Hips bucked up and sent his fingertips deeper, she moaned and her legs stiffened by his sides.

“Will…”

Mercilessly, Darcy withdrew and agony speared her shining eyes. She was close, so close, and he chuckled, enjoying having power over the woman who turned his existence into a life.

“I warned you, wife, and you did not believe me.”

Quick to prevent him from leaving her completely, “I will keep quiet and I will not disturb you no more. I swear it. Just please William, do not leave me.” She trembled below him, throbs wracked her body, both inside and out, and he did naught.

“Promises, promises.” Darcy mockingly sympathized with his wife’s plight. “It is time you learned how it feels.” His voice was coarse and harsh, a bite to his tone she had never heard, and even through the darkness, she saw a red tint to his cheeks. “Each waking hour, of each damn day, I follow you with my eyes. The sway of your buttocks, the tightness of your dress around your breasts… I am tortured yet you tease and laugh, then I am in true hell.”

“I want to kiss the sass that burns your tongue and flashes your eyes, I want to taste the sweet perfume from your throat, I want to… Oh God, I want to watch that sway as you ride me hard and fast, bringing yourself to orgasm and making me…”

Below him, Elizabeth lay as a prisoner to spoken words of wicked lust and wild abandon, her gaze blazed and fixed on her husband’s closed eyelids and heard his harsh breaths rattling his chest. She could not speak as her lips were numb and could not touch as desire weighed her limbs down. Wetness spilled from her core to soak her thighs, waves of hunger and need grew addictive and forceful.

Darcy struggled against the onslaught of erotic visions of his wife astride him, slowly sliding and her body taking what it wanted, and heat surrounding him from tip to hilt. Fingers fumbled with buttons and fabric, clumsily tugging and pulling until he was free of cloth.

“I need…” Wrapping a shaking hand around his shaft and moving up, groaning when he touched her. His hand stroked and caressed, building the pressure at the base and forcing whispers of praise from his lips.

Elizabeth looked down, but her gown stopped her from seeing what he was doing and going to do. Every caress, every feel was unexpected and surprising, leaving her wide eyed each time his sex circled her clit, turning her to liquid in his hands.

“You like that.” It was not a question, yet her face said it all. Darcy did it again, rolling the velvet head around the tiny pearl, gently at first, and then rougher, drawing out the pleasure until her back arched and closed lips muffled a moan. He fisted his length and kissed the petals with every move, skin slapped skin and his balls tightened.

Folds were creamy and soft, her entrance wantonly open and begging. She felt him pull back and forced the forming plea from her throat. That plea was replaced by a prayer when he penetrated, without warning, and the tip bounced hard off her cervix. Elizabeth’s body reacted and rose up, accepting the depth and power, relishing in the pained pleasure jolting through each nerve.

Darcy swore harshly, his hips jerking softly and chest rumbling with heavy groans as he fought the blinding pressure threatening to spill. “Too much, too much…” He pushed once, twice, the game of love making turning wild.

Her body angled and supple thighs pulled up, held in a bruising grip. Bracing her weight with shapely legs locked round his back, yet she did not move. Darcy grunted and groaned with effort, sweat dripped from damp hair as he gave it all, the bed crashed against the wall.

“Take it.” He rode her, forcing his wife further up the bed and making her his. Senseless words were silent, but he saw them on her luscious lips and read the hunger in her toffee gaze. Silken muscles squeezed his shaft and hot sex poured out, drenching his thighs in honey. The rough rasp of dark curls grazed her clit and sensitive folds, Elizabeth whimpered softly.

Darcy looked at her, tigers’ eyes taking in every detail; delicate hands grasping the sheets and mouth open, the tiniest of noises drowning out the thud of bed on wall. She wanted this, wanted to be his wife and open to all that he wished. She was his wife, his lover, his friend, his lady, his queen.

His whore.

“Whore.” Darcy hissed it and it was enough, more than enough to spark his orgasm.

Elizabeth felt it happen; he fuller and thicker, his balls were heavy and slapped against her core, giving more than she could handle. He was slamming into her, long bursts of heat filling her core, and Darcy stilling and stiffening under the force.

Head thrown back and teeth gritted, seen between taut lips, the muscles in his back corded under the feeling. His weight pushed her down into the mattress and pressure left his body. Long and hot bursts filled and scorched the satiny walls, leaving him breathless.

He had and she had not. That would never do.

Darcy moved and cried out, his body enduring an overload of wild sensations. His shaft still pulsed and throbbed, and burned, God he burned all over. Hands were grasping his buttocks and pulling him down, completely caging herself with him. Elizabeth began to rock back and forth, the hot scrape of his sex like hellfire inside.

She moaned his name, never allowing him to withdraw, always pulling him deeper and deeper, making the tip hit off that little place. Darcy’s face dropped to her shoulder, his mouth and tongue sipped kisses and blunt teeth nipped, his being consumed by his wife’s sluttish display.

Then she softened around him, the tight squeeze so hot and wet, fisting him over and over. The waves of orgasm got stronger and her voice louder, begging him for more. Her hips rose and fell, rhythmically riding him hard from below, increasing the pressure building in his semi-hard length.

Christ, she was killing him.

Muffled and indistinguishable, nonsense flew from his mouth to her skin, his hands clutched her roughly, uncaring of marks that would mar her sweet flesh. Darcy matched her, move for move, pressing down when it got too much, only letting go when his name left her lips in an arid whisper.

Slim fingers gentled their touch and her voice drifted to a sated hum full of pleasure, Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered and her tongue flicked out to taste the perspiration drenching her upper lip. Her core still accepting and wanting, those pliable walls kneading and hugging the velvety shaft, urging him to give it all.

Already over sensitive and driven to distraction, those muscles caving in around him forced short but sizzling spurts of liquid sex from him to her, and he could not take one more second.

Elizabeth heard her heart thrumming in her chest and blood gushing in her ears; she felt her husband’s weight pushing the air from her lungs as he collapsed, motionless, on top of her.

Darcy floated languidly and lazily in a state of bliss, his hips still jerked and shuddered as the final vestiges of pleasure faded to an intense and passionate dream.

Endless moments passed and he kept silent, the only movements were large and shaking hands numbly sliding up her body to tangle thick fingers with slender ones.

The fabric of his night trousers were soaked with salted sweetness, an intoxicating mix of her climax and his, and it irritated him yet he had not the energy to get up and remove them. Below him, Elizabeth shifted and he groaned, in both pain and pleasure.

“No,” Darcy croaked, “I beg of you, my love, please be still.”

She giggled and the vibrations, though soft, were too much and he slipped out of her, causing Elizabeth to flinch at the soreness made from the deliciously hot sex only her husband could give. She felt trickles of cooled liquid on her thighs and buttocks, and his garments scratch her legs.

“Sir, are you well?” Had she reduced him to the helplessness he spoke of?

His chin nudged her shoulder as he gave a nod. “I require a moment.”

Elizabeth, unused to him behaving so, frowning and treating his face to soothing strokes from tender fingertips. His skin was exceptionally hot and very damp; it was indeed worrying. “William, you are fevered and I am troubled.”

The laugh he gave was strangled and dried his throat a little more, making the sound husky and raw. Darcy eased his head from her shoulder, his eyes glazed but focused. “I never gave the kiss you wished for.”

Her frown turned confused. “Sir?” Had he not given more than a kiss?

In lieu of a kiss that often started an encounter of passion and play, it was one of love and tenderness, which their love making was formed around. His lips were gone before Elizabeth could register the fact they were there, and her mouth still puckered in wait.

The tip of his nose brushed hers, a smile quirked up the corner of his lips and lightened the shadows, though darkness reigned. “What bothers you, wife? Why is your brow creased? Were you not pleased with… I did not frighten you? It could not be helped. Please Elizabeth, forgive me, and it shall never happen again.”

His words were rushed as panic built; she had never looked so discontented after receiving his attentions and could only be the consequences of what had just occurred. A hand cupped her face and he shook, eyes widened and jaw stiffened. He could not bear it if he had alarmed her.

He thought her displeased? Elizabeth hurried to convince him otherwise. “No William, I certainly am not unhappy or frightened, though why you say such a thing I know not, it is just…” Through the shades, she blushed deeply. “I seem to be lying in a wet spot.”

Relief and her confession broke through the wall of dread to make him chuckle, and Darcy inhaled sharply and exhaled through pursed lips. “I truly did not startle you?”

“Truly my love, you could never harm me, physically or otherwise. Unless it is wished, of course, and even then it is naught but a spanking, which I enjoy.” The mischievous smile was what induced him to believe her. “Tell me why should you ask if you had terrified me?”

Darcy needed not the thoughts of his wife in such submission; it made him desire actions currently impossible. “Hush, my Elizabeth. As a proper wife, I should return to my bed before the morning comes.” Again, he avoided answering her question.

“I admit to finding an odd fondness for propriety. If you must, you must.”

His eyes darkened and narrowed; she was meant to ask him to stay, not take pleasure at the thought of his leaving her. “Elizabeth, you truly wish me to go?”

Elizabeth smiled, the shadows swallowed the smile, and the expression of hurt on her husband’s face washed away the urge to tease. A hand rose to cup his cheek, the soft pad of her thumb mindlessly drifted across the forming lines of worry. “To have a star in his hand, a man would need to spend the night with his wife.”

The lines vanished and a breath of air brushed her palm, his face turned in and lips stole a kiss from her hand. “The stars sleep when the sun wakes. You have told me how a man holds a star in his hand, now how does a man hold the sun?.”

“I feel that is something you must discover for yourself.”

Darcy knew, just by looking into shaded hazel eyes, that he would do just that.

TBC

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