Page 10 of Mr. Darcy's Storm of Temptation

The tension built impossibly, a coiling in her belly that threatened to snap. "Fitzwilliam," she gasped. "I cannot bear it."

"Let go," he commanded, his fingers moving faster. "Trust me, my love. Let go."

She shattered, pleasure crashing over her in waves so intense her vision went white. He captured her mouth with his, swallowingher cries as her body convulsed. She could feel him rock hard against her, his whole body rigid with the effort of restraint.

When she finally stilled, limp and panting, he withdrew his hand carefully, adjusting her nightgown with shaking fingers.

"What was that?" she gasped.

"Your release," he said, pressing kisses to her face. "The first of many I intend to give you when you are my wife."

She became aware that he was still hard against her, his arousal straining against his breeches. "But you have not found your own release."

"This was for you," he said firmly, though she could see the strain in his jaw. "Only you," he said roughly, setting her away from him with visible effort. "Now you must go. Now. Before I forget every honorable intention and take you right here."

She went on unsteady legs, pausing at the door to look back. He stood where she had left him, hands clenched at his sides, watching her with such naked longing it stole her breath.

"I love you," she said softly.

"And I love you," he replied. "More than life itself. Now go, before I do something we would both regret."

In her room, Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her swollen lips, still tasting him. Her body hummed with new knowledge. New pleasures.

Tomorrow she would face him in daylight, maintain proper distance, play the part of a modest young lady. But tonight, she was engaged to Mr. Darcy. Tonight, she had tasted passion and wanted more.

Soon, he had promised. Soon they would be married, and then all these feelings would find their proper expression. Her body knew what her heart had finally admitted: she belonged to Fitzwilliam Darcy, completely and eternally.

5

Elizabeth barely sleptafter the library encounter. Her lips tingled from Mr. Darcy's kisses, and her body hummed with the memory of the pleasure he had given her.

When Sally helped her dress, Elizabeth chose a morning gown of pale blue that brought out her eyes. She told herself it was not because Mr. Darcy had once mentioned admiring the color on her. But her traitorous heart raced at the thought of seeing him, of telling everyone they belonged to each other now.

The breakfast room was already occupied when she entered. Mr. Darcy stood by the window, and when he turned to her, the joy radiating from his face stole her breath. Gone was any pretense of indifference. He looked at her as if she were the sun itself.

"Miss Elizabeth." His voice caressed her name. "You slept well, I trust?"

Before she could answer, he crossed to her, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips. The gesture was perfectly proper for an engaged couple, but the heat in his eyes as he performed it wasanything but. She felt the press of his mouth through her glove and nearly swayed.

"I have news to share," she said, her voice shaking as she turned to the Gardiners, who had just entered. "Mr. Darcy has done me the honor of asking for my hand, and I have accepted."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Mrs. Gardiner's teacup rattled against its saucer as she set it down with shaking hands. Mr. Gardiner's newspaper slipped from his fingers entirely.

"I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Gardiner managed, looking between them as if she had misheard. "Elizabeth, did you say engaged?"

"Yes, Aunt." Elizabeth felt heat flood her cheeks at their obvious shock.

"But..." Mrs. Gardiner looked genuinely bewildered. "My dear, just three days ago you spoke of Mr. Darcy with such, that is to say, you gave no indication of any attachment. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Mr. Gardiner had recovered enough to speak, though his voice was careful. "This is rather sudden, Lizzy. Are you certain you have considered this properly?"

Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy stiffen beside her. She reached for his hand instinctively, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her relations.

"I understand your surprise," she said. "I know how this must appear. But my feelings have undergone a dramatic change these past days. No, these past months."

"Months?" Mr. Gardiner's eyebrows rose. "My dear girl, one does not hide such feelings for months."