Page 22 of Mr. Darcy's Storm of Temptation

"I love you," she said between kisses. "I love you so much it frightens me sometimes."

"Never be frightened of loving me," he said fiercely. "I will never betray that love, never take it for granted. You are my heart, Elizabeth. Without you, I am nothing."

"And you are mine," she replied, pulling him down for another kiss. "My heart, my soul, my everything."

When London's skyline finally appeared in the late afternoon sun, Elizabeth's anticipation had reached fever pitch. Her body thrummed with need, every nerve ending alive with awareness of the man beside her.

The townhouse on Grosvenor Square was elegant, but Elizabeth barely noticed. Her attention was entirely on Mr. Darcy as he dismissed the servants for the evening.

"We do not wish to be disturbed," he said firmly. "For any reason."

The butler, Stevens, bowed with a carefully neutral expression. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. May I offer congratulations to you and Mrs. Darcy?"

"Thank you, Stevens. That will be all."

The moment they were alone, Mr. Darcy swept her into his arms, carrying her toward the stairs.

"I can walk," she protested laughingly.

"I have waited too long for this moment," he said, his voice rough with need. "I will not wait another second more than necessary."

"Then hurry," she whispered against his neck, pressing kisses to his throat. "I need you, Fitzwilliam. I have needed you for so long."

He practically ran up the stairs, making her laugh despite the desire coursing through her veins. "Eager, husband?"

"Desperate, wife," he corrected, kicking open the door to their chamber.

10

Their chamber was elegant,dominated by a large bed that made Elizabeth's mouth go dry. Candles had been lit throughout the room, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. Someone had scattered rose petals on the bed and left champagne cooling in a bucket.

Mr. Darcy set her down slowly, letting her body slide against his, and she felt how aroused he was, how desperately he wanted her. The evidence of his desire pressed against her belly, hard and insistent.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, his hands framing her face.

"No," she whispered. "I have been waiting for this moment since you first touched me. Show me, Fitzwilliam. Show me everything."

His eyes darkened to near-black. "Everything," he promised, his hands moving to the fastenings of her gown. "Tonight, I will show you everything."

He undressed her slowly, reverently, pressing kisses to each inch of skin as it was revealed. Elizabeth had expected to feel shy, but under his worshipful gaze, she felt beautiful and wanted.

"You are perfect," he breathed, his eyes traveling over her naked form. "More lovely than I imagined, and I have imagined you thousands of times."

"Now you," she said, reaching for his cravat with shaking fingers.

She undressed him with growing boldness, her fingers working at his cravat, then the buttons of his waistcoat. When she pushed his shirt from his shoulders, she marveled at the planes and angles of his body. When she freed his arousal, she gasped at the size of him, remembering the feel of it pressed against her, but seeing it was entirely different.

"You are quite large. Will it fit?" she asked, then blushed at her boldness.

He laughed softly, pulling her against him so she could feel him pressed against her belly. "We were made for each other, my love. Trust me."

"I do," she said simply. "With all my heart and spirit."

He laid her on the bed, then simply looked at her for a long moment, his gaze traveling over her with such heat that she felt her nipples tighten, her core pulse.

"Please," she whispered, reaching for him. "I need you to touch me."

He began at her throat, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone. When he reached her breasts, he worshipped them with lips and tongue and teeth until she was writhingbeneath him, making sounds she did not know she was capable of.