“What are you doing Mr Darcy…?” She asked, puzzled. All thought went out of her head when she felt him nuzzle between her cheeks and his tongue set off fireworks in her head as it took the place of his fingers.
Breathless, she pushed back against his busy tongue, a tension building inside her as he continued his skilful teasing. Darcy’s rhythmic tonguing ceased abruptly and she felt his strong hands grasp her hips and, immediately understanding his intentions, she relaxed as he turned her over.
A dark lock of hair fell in his eyes as he looked down upon her, an avid almost frenzied look in his eyes. Slowly now, more considered he kicked off his shoes before he undid his trousers and let them drop to the floor before shaking them off. Elizabeth’s chest heaved as she saw the size of his manhood, clearly outlined as it strained against his cotton drawers. She watched him take off his jacket and then held her breath as he finally pulled down his underpants. His magnificent penis sprang to attention, and as though charmed by a snake, she was unable to tear her eyes from it.
Her breath began to come in short gasps as he bent over her again and slowly pulled her own drawers the rest of the way down her thighs and then off her legs and over her feet, before throwing them into the corner.
He grasped her slender legs by the ankles and jerked her towards him so strongly that she again squeaked, frantically balancing herself with her hands as her bottom reached the edge of the mattress. Without unlocking his gaze from hers, he knelt between her legs and pushed her thighs open with his hands. She was propped on her elbows and even though she knew what was coming she was still unprepared for the touch of his tongue upon her sensitive folds. Elizabeth arched her back in ecstasy, closing her eyes and pushing her pelvis at her new husband. Whilst the feel of his tongue lapping at her from behind had been amazing, this new sensation was a hundred fold the pleasure. His tongue seemed to have a life of its own as it flicked here and there, increasing the pressure inside her so much that she felt she would explode.
Suddenly scared, unsure of what was happening, her hands found her way into his hair, trying to stop him. It was to no avail, and when one of his fingers again slid into her virginal opening as his tongue played over her clitoris she felt an enormous contraction of pleasure, followed by another and another. She was helpless not to grind against him until the waves of ecstasy had subsided. When her body had finally relaxed Darcy stood and again looked down upon her.
“Mr Darcy what was that…what did you do to me?” Elizabeth asked. While worldly, knowledgeable and confident about most things, Elizabeth couldn’t help feeling like a little girl filled with wonder. Darcy laughed kindly at her.
“Why my darling, you just climbed the mountain of pleasure. Don’t move a muscle, hopefully I can take you there again!”
She was confused by his answer, but when he drew her hand down to his rigid manhood so that her fingers could feel its strength and pulsing, she knew immediately it was what she needed to climb the ‘mountain’ he spoke of again. Now it was his turn to exhale sharply at the feel of her silken fingers and he manoeuvred closer between her thighs.
"Now, my darling, guide it within," he whispered hoarsely. She felt him push forward and gasped as the head of his manhood bumped against her still sensitive opening. He pushed forward gently and she felt the swell of his penis spread her, intruding upon the tight opening.
"Aah! No, wait it's too big!" She wriggled vigorously. "I fear I cannot . . ."
Darcy was by now incapable of stopping.
“It will fit my dear, I guarantee it…”
He urged his shaft remorselessly forward. She felt an exquisite pain as he inched inside her and suddenly came up against a barrier. He leaned over her now and began to rain kisses upon her face as he allowed her time to become accustomed to his invading flesh. He moved in and out of her shallowly, until she responded to the gentle friction, softly moaning as he continued to move in and out of her. He lifted his face from her when he felt she was ready, and barely able to control himself he thrust forward as a muffled pop signified her hymen yielding.
“Arrgh!” she groaned in agony, “Stop please husband, it’s too much!" she all but screamed and turned her face to him. It was her undoing though, the sight of those full lips and wide beautiful eyes energized Darcy as much did the warm clenching of her passage and almost growling, he fell upon her, mashing his lips passionately over her own and burying himself completely in her.
Darcy now began to fuck his long time object of affection in earnest, relishing the enveloping silkiness of her, even enjoying her pained gasps as she slowly became used to his size. Gratifyingly, after a few minutes she began to embrace him, pulling him deeper into her as she grew to love the feel of him moving in and out of her.
“Mmm Mr Darcy, you feel wonderful inside me,” she whispered into his ear.
This encouraged him to even greater efforts and he grunted as he increased the frequency of his strokes crushing her to him.
“Fuck me Mr Darcy,” she cried.
The vulgarity coming from her sweet innocent lips was too much for him and with a growl he reached climax, thrusting deeply and violently inside her. He continued for many seconds as she held him inside her, before finally collapsing onto her, his face against her neck, breath warm on her soft skin.
Elizabeth Darcy knew she was home, knew she was where she belonged, in the arms of her love. She felt safe and secure and closed her eyes contentedly.
3- A Roll in the Hay
It really was too much. Both Darcy and Elizabeth were weary of the steady stream of family and friends to the doors of Pemberley since their marriage. At first it had been enjoyable and rather a novelty, but lately Elizabeth had begun to fear that they had perhaps been too welcoming. It just had to stop… but of course that was easier said than done.
“I feel like I haven’t had a chance to be alone with you since our union,” Darcy complained, over breakfast one morning.
I know Mr. Darcy, thank goodness for the nights,” Elizabeth sympathized, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Darcy’s lips curled in a wry smile at her wickedness.
“Yes, there is that,” he agreed and gestured that Williams, the young page, leave the room. Darcy stood up and walked to the window. “Let’s not entertain the Winslow’s today,” he said.
“It’s a little late to beg off now my dear. We don’t want to disappoint them.”
“Disappointment be dammed,” he said, turning from the window in an agitated manner. “I’m sick and tired of entertaining and feeding every member of society in the district and beyond.”
Elizabeth watched him pacing and felt her heartbeat quicken. She never tired of watching him.
“Let us disappoint them just this once. I will send a runner to say I’m not well…although the truth is, I do have something better to do.”
Elizabeth held her breath as he came around the table and stood behind her.
“Let’s go for a walk today,” he whispered in her ear, his arms encircling her from behind.
“A walk?” She felt goose bumps at the tickle of his warm breath on the skin of her neck.
“Well a walk of sorts, perhaps we’ll take a bite to eat.”
“A picnic then?” she asked, before gasping at the play of his fingers over her throat.
“Yes, a picnic. Just you and I. A secret tryst.”
“That sounds… intriguing Husband,” she said trying to control the tremble in her voice as his hands curled further around her, and cupped her breasts.
“I would have thought promising a more appropriate word Mrs. Darcy,” he said, and kissed the nape of her neck.
“Oh my!” was all she could manage, as her breath quickened.
All too soon his hands left her and he stood before taking her hand and helping her out of her chair.
“I shall see to the runner. You should go and get ready.” His tone was commanding now, no nonsense, and to be honest, Elizabeth found it just as arousing as his more sensual tones of the l
ast few minutes. “Meet me in the entrance hall at 11am sharp.”
Elizabeth watched him go, her knees trembling slightly at the promise of what was to come.
As he had commanded she was ready and waiting for him in the entrance hall at 11am. She wore a light, cream colored Muslin dress with a matching bonnet. He came striding into the entrance hall a few minutes later and looked at her approvingly, carrying a straw picnic basket.
“What is in there?” Elizabeth asked.
“Why food of course Mrs. Darcy, we shall need replenishment after our vigorous…walk.”
Elizabeth managed to suppress a guffaw at his naughty innuendo and gladly took his hand when he offered it.
“Why do you smile so, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked, feigning innocence for the benefit of the help.
“Oh nothing Mr. Darcy, I am simply filled with happiness at the possibility of warm sun, fresh air and good company.”
“Excellent, let us be off then shall we.”
They walked at a leisurely pace, laughing and making small talk, pausing now and then to smell the flowers or to point out birds and butterflies to each other.
Eventually, Darcy took a path, away from the main road, leading them into the forest.
“Where does this lead?” Elizabeth asked.
“Somewhere magical,” he said, mysteriously. Elizabeth felt the tingle of amatory excitement…but surely he didn’t mean to have his way with her. Not here in the outdoors. She must be misunderstanding his intentions.
Eventually they arrived in a dell, a small clearing amidst the tall trees. It was private and shaded, almost like a darkened room. Darcy led her to a big oak tree and placed his basket on the ground lifting the cover and pulling out a blanket. He shook it open flamboyantly and let it settle over the cool grass before inviting her to sit upon it.
Darcy then proceeded to produce from the basket a marvelous assortment of foods. Breads, cheeses, fruit and a bottle of his favourite French wine, a robust red from Burgundy.
“Mr. Darcy! What a marvelous banquet,” she exclaimed.
“No less than you deserve my dear,” he said, before smiling and removing his coat.
He sat on the blanket and loosened his cravat, whipping it off before removing his shoes and stockings, wiggling his toes in the long, soft grass.
“Mr. Darcy. Are you sure it’s wise to sit in such a disheveled state? What if someone should come upon us?”
“No one shall come upon us Elizabeth. And even if they did? Well, let them! I doubt the sight of my bare feet will cause any lasting harm… aren’t you going to sit?”
Elizabeth laughed delightedly at his devil may care attitude and lowered herself to the blanket as elegantly as possible. Perhaps infected by his mischievousness, she removed her bonnet and then her shoes, allowing her stockinged feet to run over the grass beside his.
Elizabeth turned her head and found him gazing at her stockinged feet with a look that made her feel a warm rush of excitement. He looked up at her and smiled, the spell of her lace covered feet broken.
“Are you hungry, Lizzy?”
Her eyes widened, he had never called her anything but Mrs. Darcy or Elizabeth in the six months they had been married.
“Why yes, I believe I am.”
Darcy smiled and served a small platter of cheese that he placed between them on the blanket before pulling out to pewter goblets and the bottle of wine.
“We can’t have cheese without wine.”
Darcy produced a corkscrew from the basket and rose to his knees. She watched his graceful movements as he braced the bottle against the ground and began to work on the cork.
While he was thus occupied, Elizabeth allowed herself to admire the movement of his muscles beneath the silk of his shirt.
After a short than expected tussle with the stubborn stopper he pulled it free and looked at her with a triumphant grin, catching her admiring regard before she could look away. Elizabeth felt her cheeks redden and quickly picked up her goblet before holding it out to him with her trembling hand.
Mrs. Darcy was nervous. This day was taking her down an unfamiliar, albeit exciting path and she felt… not exactly uncomfortable, but unbalanced. Perhaps the wine would take the edge off her nerves? She gulped the half goblet he offered her.
“Now, now Lizzy. A fine wine should be savoured not downed like tankard of ale in a seaside inn.”
“Forgive me Mr. Darcy, I am…was… a little thirsty.”
She took the square of cheese he offered her . He now sat cross legged facing her. He looks so different, so relaxed and… wild in this environment, she thought, as a flower of warmth from the recently imbibed wine bloomed in her stomach and began to radiate outwards.
For the next twenty minutes they ate, laughed and drank. Darcy was like a different man. Whenever they dined, even at Pemberley his home, he was always proper and well dressed. He never allowed himself to relax in front of the hired help. But here, he was relaxed almost to the point of being unrecognizable.
As Elizabeth regarded him and sipped more judiciously at her second goblet of wine, she found herself having some very unladylike thoughts and feelings about the new Darcy, this wilding of a man, hidden from her for so long.
Even though she too was feeling relaxed, Elizabeth sat quite primly on the blanket, her legs positioned much as they would have been if she were riding a horse side saddle. She hardly dared to move a muscle, not quite knowing what this wilder version of Darcy would do next.
As she waited, he finished his goblet off with a flourish and fell to his side facing her and propped his head up on one hand and looked at her. Elizabeth’s eyes fell to the open throat of his shirt, spying his bare, manly chest, normally properly covered and now on full display.
When she realised he was looking at her, her eyes immediately fell to the blanket. Elizabeth suddenly found that she didn’t know what to do or say and simply sat there with her cheeks burning. He laughed heartily.
“Oh Lizzy, you look like you just saw a snake!”
He reached out and swept a curl off her face. She gasped but his hand didn’t leave her. He traced his finger along her jawbone and over her lips. She had no breath left in her to protest at his unseemly display of affection. While horrified of the publicness of it, she craved his touch. Every touch of his fingers grazing her skin, her lips and ears sent waves of heat rushing through her. Elizabeth had pause to wonder how the merest touch on her face could heat the rest of her body so.
She was about to ask him to stop when he pulled her towards him, causing her to topple over and fall against his hard body. Elizabeth gasped and suddenly found his lips upon hers. She could taste the red wine on his mouth as he kissed her and when he released her, she fell back onto the blanket looking up dizzily at the canopy of leaves above them. Her head was spinning, wanting him to kiss her again, not wanting him to kiss her again. In the end she had no say, as he leaned over her and kissed her. This time more lingeringly. She returned his kiss. A passionate kiss. A kiss that lasted so long they were forced to part for lack of air.
Elizabeth lay there panting and Darcy impatiently swept away the remnants of the picnic from between them and again leaned over her. His lips met hers again. This kiss was even more sensual, more consuming and she did not even have the presence of mind to protest when his hands started to move over her body, pressing and probing against the muslin as he strove to feel her womanly form. Their kiss deepened, Darcy’s hands becoming more frantic, more impatient on her clothing. Finally she broke away gasping when she felt his hands find their way under her dress onto the bare skin of her knees.
“Not here Mr. Darcy. I beg you.”
Even to her own ears, her protests sounded unconvincing and apparently her husband was just that, unconvinced. He smiled down at her and continued to run his hands over her skin, leaving a path of fire wherever they fell.
He kissed her again and she feebly protested when his hands began fumbling blindly with her garter. He persisted
just as she hoped/dreaded he would.
“Not here,” she gasped, even as she opened her legs, allowing his hand to find its way over her drawers. His hands felt their way over her thighs and to her… “No Darcy, we can’t!”
She tried to close her legs, but knew that he wouldn’t be dissuaded. It was too late for that.
“Oh but we can Lizzy,” he said, breathlessly when he broke away from their kiss. Suddenly his fingers brushed the sensitive area between her legs and she gasped, her back arching as she attempted to contain the fire he had ignited in her. “Fitzwilliam,” she said, weakly. “Not here.”
He didn’t answer, just placed his lips against hers again, as his fingers probed the material that was the only barrier between him and his ultimate goal. She stopped resisting, she wanted him too… more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. Surrendering all control, she sank back against the blanket and let him have his way, suddenly the public setting of their encounter didn’t seem so important… in fact the element of risk it added only seemed to enhance her excitement.
When she relaxed, Elizabeth fully expected Darcy to press home his advantage, but he was gentle with her. As he kissed her, his hands went to work, unbuttoning, loosening and peeling away the many layers of lace, muslin and cotton that covered her. When his warm, gentle mouth found her breast she tensed in ecstasy. She moaned at this new sensation, Darcy’s mouth had never strayed lower than her neck, and the hot sensation it was invoking made her wonder about further possibilities.
As his hands and mouth moved over her body she lost all capacity for thought. Her basest instincts took over and she opened herself to him, moaning loudly.
Now his touch became more urgent and determined, he crawled down her body kissing her belly lightly as he went. Would he? Surely no! He didn’t…she almost groaned in disappointment. His final kiss, low on her belly caused her to tingle in unsatisfied anticipation. But wait what was he doing? Darcy climbed to his knees and crawled backwards until he was over her thighs. She felt his warm hands on her knees as he spread her thighs and moved between them.
Darcy's Dark Desires Page 3
