Page 89 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

“I will stop anytime if you want. I might die of despair, but I will stop if you ask me to.”

She laughed, slightly nervous, and then caressed his face just as he did hers.

“I would not want you to die…and I do not want you to stop. I like it so much when you kiss me.”

He rolled from atop her, then leant down and whispered. “So do I…but starting tonight, I hope you will like more than just kisses…”

He hastily removed his shirt. Her eyes stared at his bare torso, and she tentatively touched his shoulder.

He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing each finger, her palm, and her wrist, then slowly kissed along her arm to her shoulder, where he lingered a moment.

Then he renewed the sweet exploration: along her neck, down to her throat, to the neckline of her gown.

There he stopped and looked at her again.

She gulped for a little air and licked her lips.

His eyes holding hers, his fingers slowly brushed over her breasts, gently as a barely felt caress.

She groaned, and her back arched. He leant near her, and one hand trapped her hands over her head while he spread soft kisses over her face, tantalising her lips.

Soft moans betrayed her delight while his other hand slowly touched, felt, and caressed the softness of her breasts, closing upon each of them with possessive tenderness.

There was no haste, no impatience in his moves, and the slowness of his gestures made her head spin.

She called his name and freed her hands to encircle his neck, pulling him to her.

“Is there something you wish from me?” he whispered, and she formed a weak “no.”

She knew she wished something but did not know what—and would never dare voice it aloud anyway.

His hand travelled gently along her body through the silky gown, brushing over her skin and sliding down along her ribs.

It lingered a moment on her belly then caressed her hips.

Her body quivered, and her fingers tightened in his hair when his hand returned to her breasts, tracing slow circles around them.

His lips found hers for a brief moment then stopped, and he released her arms from his neck, withdrawing slightly.

She struggled to breathe as his eyes locked with hers.

Gently, he lowered the nightgown from her shoulders then a little down from her neckline.

His eyes were dark, and she could not bear his stare any longer.

However, his fingers caressed her face and brushed over her eyelids, and she opened them again.

A smile she had not seen before twisted his lips while his fingers moved lower and slowly pulled the nightgown down, brushing over her breasts.

She shivered again and closed her eyes right before his fingers burned her skin with torturous caresses around her breasts, sending waves of warmth inside her.

She was unexpectedly trapped into another kiss, passionate, eager, demanding, and she responded without hesitation, her lips and tongue joining his with growing boldness.

She heard her husband groaning, and for an instant, wondered about it, but her thoughts vanished as his hand lowered and pulled down her gown.

She felt his caresses on her thighs, her legs, her feet.

Then the fabric was gone—she briefly panicked, realising she was completely naked—and the caresses returned to her lower body.

Instinctively, her thighs locked together. His touch ceased, and the kiss broke.

Elizabeth opened her eyes to see her husband watching her. She sensed the coolness on her bare skin as she burned inside. His eyes slowly travelled along her body, and she shivered as though she could feel the touch of his gaze.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Would you let me see you, please?”

She only nodded, unable to speak or even think, and he leant closer.

“Thank you, my love,” he said, gently kissing her face while his hand continued its provocative conquest. His strokes tantalised her legs then parted them daringly.

To her shock, his hand moved higher. She moaned and bit her lower lip, trying to clasp her thighs again.

She heard him whispering her name, and then his lips tasted hers.

His hand never left the place it had just conquered, and the other one glided and encircled her shoulders as if wishing to hold her closer.

She opened her eyes, met his gaze, and breathed steadily a moment.

Then her back arched, and her eyes closed again when his hand began to move, first gently then more daringly, burning her.

“I want to kiss you as I have so long desired to…” he said, and her mind vaguely wondered what he could mean. She had her answer a moment later when his mouth hungrily tasted every inch of her skin that his hand had already caressed.

A trail of warm kisses encircled her breast until they finally closed upon the soft hardness and captured it.

Her fingers tightly entwined in his hair, pulling him closer to her, more painfully as pleasure overwhelmed her.

Several moments later, his mouth released its captive only to conquer the soft hardness of the other.

Elizabeth bit her lips to stop a scream, her senses split between the sweet torture of his lips and that part where, shockingly, his fingers began an astonishing and intoxicating exploration, which she still doubted was really happening.

Her legs gripped his hand but the caresses did not cease this time as he seemed to know her desires better than she did.

Amazed, she realised that every stroke left her wanting more, every demanding touch seemed to gratify the deepest need inside her, and every movement of his fingers sent waves of pleasure through her body.

She heard herself begging him again and did not know for what until she heard nothing except the violent beating of her heart, fighting to overcome the storm of fire and ice that had trapped her body and her mind. ..

Some long moments passed before Elizabeth finally gathered herself together.

She could not and wished not to open her eyes and meet his gaze.

She was spent from emotion and mortified at her lack of shame for what had just happened and for how she felt—as well as how much she desired his touches again.

She tried to cover herself and to hide her nakedness from his gaze, which she could sense. His hands gently arranged the sheet around her, then he slid beneath it.

She frowned when she felt his leg brushing hers and realised he had also removed his trousers.

“Please look at me, my love,” he whispered, and she could guess the smile in his voice.

It took some time before she dared open her eyes and distinguished the smile twisting his lips. That she did remember and recognise. In the dim firelight, he caressed her face.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing her hands to his lips.

She averted her eyes but met the shape of his naked body through the sheet and blushed violently.

“Oh, I cannot possibly believe that… I am afraid to even imagine how I look…”

“You look just as I dreamt so many times…only lovelier…”

She finally met his gaze with wonder. “Surely, you never dreamed of what just happened…”

“I did—so many times. Every night since I fell in love with you, I have dreamt of being the one who would teach you about passion and desire although I believed it would never happen. The mere thought of another man loving you was the most painful torture for such a long time. And after we decided to marry, not a single day passed without imagining the expression on your beautiful face when you reached your pleasure for the first time.”

Her eyes widened with every word, and her entire body coloured self-consciously.

“Forgive me if my words embarrass you. They are nothing but the truth. ”

“Your words did not embarrass me, but your gestures…and what I sensed… I never imagined something like that… My feelings were… Now I fully understand what you meant when you said it could not have happened at Longbourn.”

He smiled and kissed her hands again.

“Forgive me, my love, but I must prove you wrong: you do not fully understand what I meant…not by far. You are not mine yet, my love…and I did not even kiss you as I wished.”

“What do you mean?” she barely managed to inquire. Her skin shattered as if freezing while the fire grew inside her, astounding and frightening her as much as his hoarse voice and dark gaze. “I do know that I am not your wife yet , but…William… ”

His fingers turned her head to meet her lips, which he tasted softly, gently, tenderly, and his hands possessively returned under the sheets.

With a moan, she anticipated the pleasure he would give her again, and her body arched to him.

His hands eagerly touched and caressed her softness, and she slightly moved under his touches.

He abandoned her mouth and travelled back to her breasts, savouring what his hands had already discovered and conquered. His hand climbed back down to the warmth of her thighs, and she moaned even before she felt his touch. His lips followed his hand, tasting every inch of her skin.

Every sensation she had experienced before paled as though a prelude to what he was offering her that moment. The kisses lingered on her breasts only torturous moments then lowered even more, closer to what she thought to be unthinkable.

The novelty of his lips and tongue tasting the skin of her thighs made her quiver, and her hands gripped the sheets around her. All her senses rushed to the place that still ached for his touch.

She thought she was aware of what would follow, but he proved her wrong. Nothing could have prepared her for the shock of feeling the softness of his lips or the unbearable pleasure that overwhelmed her.