Page 23 of Under Such Circumstances (Desperately Seeking Elizabeth #1)

ELIZABETH MANAGED TO get herself to Weythorn while Jane was off on the promenade with Mr. Bingley. It was just before her new servants would be taking residence in the place, so the house was entirely still and silent and empty, except for herself and the colonel.

She had, however, just purchased sheets and blankets for the beds, though she had to admit she was rather hopeless with knowing how to make a bed. She was at that when the colonel arrived, trying to tuck sheets around the mattress and finding it all very difficult.

The colonel tried to assist, and they sort of managed it, but nothing was nearly as smooth or well-tucked as they would have liked.

They laughed quite a bit and they fluffed out pillows and shook out the top sheet, and it wasn’t long until he had tackled her down into the not-really-made bed and started kissing her.

She writhed under him, the kisses welcome, the heft of his body welcome, the firmness of him welcome, and the smell of him especially welcome.

He seemed to scent in such a very masculine way.

It was that ruggedness, she thought. He smelled rugged.

He smelled experienced. She couldn’t say how it was a man could smell that way, but he did.

All they did was kiss for a long, long time. She liked it, but eventually, she murmured against his mouth that she wasn’t sure what time it was, but she did have to be back at some point, and maybe they should get on with this.

He laughed and said that if she was eager for it, it was a good sign. He pushed himself up over her and looked down at her body, saying he thought she was quite pretty like that, “with my kisses reddening your lips,” he said.

And this made something low and nearly crimson unfurl through her, and she actually gasped.

“I’d like to see you,” he said. He climbed off her. “Sit up?”

She sat up.

He went behind her and began working her buttons, planting kisses on her neck as he did so. “I have been dreaming about seeing you uncovered, fantasizing about it, doing shameful, shameful things to myself as I imagine your body.”

She liked this too, and she gasped again, tilting her neck into his kisses. “You mean touching yourself, then? Do you do that also?”

“Oh, very good,” he murmured into her jaw.

“If you do that, we shall have no problems at all, Elizabeth. You’ll be quite equipped to assist me, and I’m very pleased about that.

” He had her buttons undone. He loosened her stays, and kissed the underside of her chin and reached down to scoop one of her breasts out.

She let out a tiny, breathy noise.

He looked over her shoulder and teased her nipple stiff, murmuring that she was lovelier than he’d imagined, that her skin was softer and creamier than it had any right to be. “You’re too beautiful, Elizabeth,” he said, claiming her mouth again.

She felt boneless as she collapsed against his chest.

He wrapped his body around her and scooped out her other breast.

She lay her head on his shoulder as he rubbed the sensitive tips of her, as he gently squeezed and kneaded her, as he kissed the sensitive hollow below her ear, as he captured her earlobe gently between his teeth, as her body was overcome by sensation.

At some point, she became aware of his male part, pressing into her, notched against her backside through her clothing. She wondered when he was going to have her touch it, when he’d make her put her hands on it and make her rub it.

She wondered if she should volunteer to do it, since she knew it was going to be that eventually.

No, she wouldn’t. She didn’t wish to do it, and she would wait until he made her do it. Besides, it was supposed to be encased in that French letter thing whenever it was it had to get to that part, was it not?

So, she didn’t touch it, but she was aware of it, and this led to her to—sort of impishly—wriggle into it here and there, and when she did, he always groaned.

Several times, he thrust it against her, sort of dragging it up and down against her, but through both of their clothes, and she wasn’t sure why this felt exciting and not horrid.

Was it because he had made the tips of her breasts so very, very stiff, and was it because he kept rubbing at her there, wrenching positively delightful sensations out of the tight, taut tips of her?

Was it because she had that thick feeling again, between her thighs, pleasant pressure that was gradually becoming an ache that demanded some kind of completion?

She had touched herself between her legs before, but it was always very surreptitious and hidden.

She was rarely alone, for she shared a bed and she was assisted during bathing, so she’d done it only a few times, and she had always thought it was something entirely shameful and given herself a great deal of reproach about it, telling herself never to do it again.

But that was probably what the ache was, she thought, that was the completion she wanted.

So, was that why it wasn’t horrid?

Or was it because they were in a bed and not outside in the woods after falling off a bridge and the picnic basket splintering everywhere? Was it because the colonel was rugged and experienced in a way that was somehow different than the leering urgency of Mr. Wickham?

Was it because she simply liked Colonel Fitzwilliam?

Of course, she’d liked Wickham, too, liked him right up until he’d made her stroke him, she supposed. Somewhere in the middle of that, she had stopped liking him.

Maybe in the midst of this she’d stop liking the colonel. She rather hoped not. He had assured her she would like it. Thus far, it was ever so much better than with Wickham.

The colonel loosened her stays again, murmuring that he wished to have them out of the way, and she thought that was a capital idea, so she helped him to get them off, to push off her dress entirely, in fact, leaving her in her under layers of clothing only.

He gently nudged her to lie down on her back and he stripped off his cravat and his jacket and waistcoat. He kissed her mouth and then put his mouth on her breasts.

This made her moan, long, low noises that broke against her lips as he suckled her through her chemise and then pulled down the fabric to apply his tongue to her bare skin.

He kissed his way over her belly, down to the apex of her thighs and he kissed her there, and she was scandalized and delighted.

He gathered up her skirts and slid them up her thighs, inches at a time, until he had bared her there and he gazed into her, smiling that wicked smile as he breathed, “You have a very pretty cunny, Elizabeth.”

Oh, that word.

He looked up at her. “Perhaps I shouldn’t call it that. That’s a filthy word, and you are better than that.”

She only smiled at him. “It’s all right.”

He bent down and kissed it.

She let out a stunned noise in the back of her throat. “You c-can’t.”

“Mmm?” He was peppering her with kisses there now.

“ That is filthy, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she informed him.

“Call me Richard,” he said darkly, “especially when I have my mouth on you here.”

“W-well, call me Lizzy,” she said. “But you can’t… isn’t that very vile?”

He licked her. “Not even a little vile. I’ve been longing to taste you, in fact.”

She could hardly believe that. “You have? Do I taste… good?”

“Like strawberries,” he said.

And she laughed, because that was a lie, a ridiculous and foolish—

And then he sucked the most sensitive part of her body into his mouth, and she lost the ability to form words.

She might have screamed.

He stopped, gentling her there with a kiss. “Too much?” he murmured.

“No, exactly the right amount,” she panted. “Please, please, do that again.”

His chuckle against her was wicked, too, and he did do it again, and then everything went bright and stretched and she could only concentrate on the pleasure, Lord the pleasure , she had not known that it could feel so good.

He was relentless, sucking on her, using his tongue, and all of it in the exact same pattern, again and again, a repetition that began to prove deliciously bothersome as it sent her hurtling into what felt like the bright center of the universe.

She went in fits and starts.

She would surge, and she would feel as if she were about to tip over.

And then it would ebb a bit, and she would be frustrated, wanting it, wanting the pinnacle.

Then another surge, a sweet, wondrous surge.

And then an ebb.

And then another surge, this one the best yet—

And an ebb.

But eventually, one of the surges crested like the sunrise, spilling hot bright light all over her as she rippled out in an intensity of clenches and she was practically sobbing because it felt so good.

He was still at her, and she had to stop him, push at his shoulders, wriggle her pelvis away, gasping out that it was too much, too much, and he stopped, lifting his head and looking rakishly pleased with himself.

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest little pretty thing, Lizzy.

Do you always come so easily and quickly? ”

That was easy? Or quick? It hadn’t felt that way to her. And it was called ‘coming,’ was it? Why didn’t she know anything about this?

“You oughtn’t get too used to this, of course. I doubt he’ll do it to you. He doesn’t seem the type.” There was bitterness in his tone now.

“You mean Mr. Darcy,” she said. “But what if I just want you now?”

He swallowed, looking down at her spread thighs. “You have me now, Lizzy. Right in this moment, I am yours, utterly yours.”

She sighed, shutting her eyes, writhing a little on the bed, feeling free and easy and pleased and happy, so very happy. “That felt so nice, Richard.”

He rubbed her leg. “Good. You see, I told you you would like it.”

She let out a sunny, happy laugh. “You know everything, I see. I know nothing. I am still rather confused about it, truly. You see, before Wickham took my virtue, I thought it had something to do with taking off my clothes, but then he didn’t do that at all, but now you have bared me all over—”

“Well, we haven’t really removed all of your clothes either,” said the colonel in a low voice. “But we could. We are not in the out of doors, after all, and so I can do more than just lift your skirts as he did.”

“No, he didn’t lift my skirts. He didn’t do anything with this part of me,” she said, sighing. “I am quite glad you did.”

The colonel sat up between her thighs and fixed her with a very serious look, his brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

She blinked at him. Had she said something wrong? “Perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about Mr. Wickham.”

“What do you mean, he didn’t do anything to this part of you, Lizzy?”

“I mean, he didn’t,” she said. “He didn’t look at it. He didn’t touch it. He—”

“So, then what did he do?”

“I… he made me put my hand in his trousers and he wrapped my hand around him there, and he made me… stroke him until he… and then it was sticky.”

“But you said you thought you were with child .”

“He said that I could be.” She was very confused right now. “Did he… lie to me?”

“That cad,” said the colonel in a low and dazed voice.

“That absolute cad. I bet that’s what he did to Georgiana, too.

Just told her she was ruined. We keep you women so ignorant of it you have no idea of it.

It’s appalling.” He yanked down her chemise and petticoats, tucking them between her thighs, covering her.

She scrambled to sit up. “What?”

“You’re… you’re still a virgin, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “And we shall keep you that way.” He ran a hand over his face and swore a number of barely intelligible words under his breath.

She shrank from him. “No, I’m ruined. I have been—”

“You are not, in fact.” He got up from the bed, hand his forehead. “Well, heaven knows, really, since I’ve just done all of this with you.” He eyed her. “But you’re still intact, so—”

“But you said I was intact,” she said. “You said nothing changes—”

“Yes, but I was just saying that to make you feel better.”

“So, you don’t believe it, after all.”

“I…” He ran a hand over his face again. “If you were my wife, and I could know I was the first to breach you, I would wish it. I wouldn’t want you already…” He never finished the sentence.

“You don’t want me to be your wife, though,” she said quietly.

“I have told you over and over—”

“Marry me, then,” she said, her voice cracking. “I want this, again, this pleasure, this sweetness, this… I want you, Richard, and you are leaving me here unfinished, and—”

“I finished you. I know you had a climax. It is I who am going off without satisfaction,” he muttered. “And you know I can’t marry you. You need to marry him.”

“But I want you,” she said. “How can I ever…? You think I want his hands on me after I’ve had yours?”

He licked his lips, looking stricken. “Don’t you?”

“ No. ”

He said a swear word, a very bad one, quite distinctly.

She flinched.

He turned from her and gathered up his waistcoat and jacket. He started for the door.

“You’re just going to leave me here like this?”

“I…” He looked back at her. “We can’t get married, Elizabeth.”

“Why not? Because I don’t have enough money for you, is that it?”

“I…” He turned back round. “He would be devastated.”

“I can’t imagine he’d be pleased to know you and I did this, and that didn’t stop you.”

He shrugged into his waistcoat, throwing his jacket over one shoulder, heading for the door. “I thought we agreed we’d never tell him.”

“Did we agree?”

He fumbled with his buttons. “Maybe I glossed over that part. Why is it, tell me, that when you are plotting a way to take a woman to bed, you are quite willing to do anything and everything, no matter the consequences? It’s some kind of madness, I tell you.”

“You did this with me because you were out of your head with madness?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Do you love me?”

“Obviously.” But he went back to his buttons.

Obviously. She curled her legs up to her chest inside her skirts, making herself small.

“You can never tell him, Lizzy,” he said. “And you must marry him, you must give him your virtue. Also, you can’t… you’re not ruined, so you need to stop acting as if you are.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“You must have a life, Lizzy. You must marry, and you must—”

“But it can’t be you?” Her voice cracked. “You don’t want me?”

He scratched the back of his head and didn’t look at her. “Oh, God in heaven, what have I done?” he breathed. And then he left without another word.