Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice Sequel Bundle: 3 Reader Favorites

by Linda Berdoll

  “You are back!” she said happily. “Is everything all right?”

  He bent down and kissed her lips. “Yes, it is now,” he replied. “One of my best broodmares was having a difficult birth. The foal survived, one of Parsifal’s many offspring, as a matter of fact. The mare, however, had to be put down. I hate having to do it, but on occasion it cannot be avoided.” He sighed sadly.

  “I am sorry, William. I know how much your horses mean to you.”

  “Thank you, my love. It is disturbing, but one of the unfortunate occurrences when one breeds horses, or any animal for that matter.” He shook his head. “Anyway, it’s done now. Why are you out here, Elizabeth? It’s quite cold.”

  “Enjoying the view while I waited for you.” For a time they remained silent, both enjoying the breathtaking scenery. Elizabeth unconsciously began caressing his leg.

  He looked down at her. “You are still wearing the pearls,” he noticed.

  She smiled winsomely. “I like them. I thought you might enjoy seeing me wear them… and only them.”

  He smiled one of his devastating smiles, glanced away briefly, and then sat beside her with long legs stretched on the opposite side from hers. He clasped her cool hands within his warm palms, and said, with his voice low and husky, “How are you faring this evening, my dearest?”

  “Excellent, especially now that you are back with me.” She smiled, fingers interlacing with his and caressing tenderly. “It is so beautiful here, William. I feel at home already.”

  “You are home, Mrs. Darcy. Forever Pemberley shall be where you belong.”

  “I love hearing you call me ‘Mrs. Darcy.’ You say it with such tenderness and happiness.”

  He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. Reaching to feather strokes over one soft cheek, he whispered, “I am happy. Happier than I have ever been, and it is all due to your presence in my life, Mrs. Darcy.” He shook his head slightly. “I shall never tire of calling you such.” He leaned forward, kissing her nose lightly. “Always, eternally, my Mrs. Darcy.”

  Lizzy exhaled a gentle laugh, closing her eyes and basking in the feel of his breath and warmth so near her face. Every sense was assaulted, tingling and alive as he bestowed tiny kisses on every feature, interspersing them with breathy endearments.

  He paused and their eyes met. Her lips were parted and her breathing uneven, awaiting the pressure of his mouth upon hers. Surely she would die if he did not kiss her soon! He stroked her chin with his thumb, adoring the perfection of her face.

  “Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered, so soft as to be almost inaudible, as with deliberate patience he slowly approached her mouth, kissing her with a nearly imperceptible touch. He lingered, lips feathering hers, taunting her with languid restraint. She pressed into him but he retreated slightly, maintaining a gentle pressure and movement on her mouth. She moaned and he smiled against her lips, delighting in the ability to inflame her. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him to her while at the same time arching toward his chest.

  Darcy committed all his energy to the pleasurable task of kissing his wife. He could feel the cold of the winter air seeping into him, but his lips were on fire. Her taste and moisture and warmth spread from his mouth to his heart and his soul. He teased her, evading her insistence, as he played with her sweet lips. He captured her upper lip and then her lower, tenderly sucking with his lips and then nipping slightly with his teeth. After a time he ever so lightly ran the tip of his tongue over her lower lip.

  Lizzy’s hands had stilled in his hair, all her focus on the racing torrents of delight his mouth inspired. She had always adored his kisses and the sensations they stimulated, but this was altogether different. She moaned and sighed, heart beating erratically, yet she was paralyzed with the need to consign total attention to what he was doing to her. She was dizzy.

  For what seemed like hours, he toyed with her, vacillating between faint maneuvers and enthusiastic provocations. His right hand continually stroked her jaw and cheek while his left tangled in her glistening hair, firmly clasping her head and neck to him. He probed every plane of her mouth—teeth, palate, inner lips, and cheeks—exploring leisurely and thoroughly. In a sudden burst of possessive passion, he groaned boomingly from deep in his chest and crushed her body to his chest, intensifying the kiss beyond description.

  Eventually he pulled away, meeting her eyes with a burning stare. “Mrs. Darcy,” he croaked hoarsely, “my love, my wife. I so adore you!” He stood, bringing her with him, and then swept her into his arms. She buried her face into his neck, kissing softly.

  Instead of laying her onto the bed as she expected, he stood her on her feet next to it. “Stay here,” he commanded. He crossed back to the door, latching it securely and pulling the curtains. Then he stoked the fire, adding another log to dispel the cold. Turning back to her, he walked slowly, stripping his shirt and tossing it randomly aside. “If Samuel knew how often my clothes have fallen to the floor in the past days, he would likely resign his post,” Darcy joked as he reached her.

  Lizzy barely registered his words, so caught was she by the sight of him. She required no prior comparison to know with certainty that her husband’s figure was beyond gorgeous. His chest was broad with straight shoulders and defined muscles. Dark, thick hair lightly blanketed his upper torso, gathering densely over his sternum before trailing in a finger-width path down the solid planes of his abdomen to his groin. The bulging muscles of his arms and legs further aroused her. He was so brawny, so virile, and so utterly male. It intoxicated her. Like a magnet her hands moved to caress his milky skin, eyes windows to her devotion and craving.

  Darcy was still, observing her with escalating ardency and satisfaction. He was not an egotistical man by nature. His frame was what it was, and he never gave significance to it. As long as his clothing fit well and he was lean and healthy, he was content. He certainly had been told he was handsome on many occasions, yet had assumed it was more a response to his wealth and station. No woman had ever seen his unclothed flesh, so he truly had not known what to anticipate. In these past two days of loving his wife and monitoring her reactions, he had recognized that her entrancement with his body was as profound as his was with hers. The surge of pride he felt was as much for his own ego as for his wish to please her.

  Lizzy looked into his intense blue eyes and smiled shyly, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks as she continued her tactile investigation of his chest. “You endlessly chronicle how beautiful you find me,” she said quietly. “I have been too bashful to verbalize the same.” She paused as she stepped closer, holding his eyes with hers. “You are… stunning, Fitzwilliam. Hard and yet tender. Graceful and powerful. So invigorating, breathtakingly handsome and desirable to me. I love your heart and your soul, and will for all eternity, no matter what your appearance. However, I cannot deny the awesome effect your physical being has on my senses.” She finished her earnest speech by wrapping her arms about his waist, hands pressing into his back as she squeezed herself against him, hungrily seeking his mouth.

  “My Lizzy,” he breathed as he kissed her. He held her tightly to him, caressing her back through her gown. His hands roamed all over her, removing his robe from her shoulders first, then slowly peeling the gauzy gown up and over her head as he stroked her satiny flesh. She shivered with delight, fire and ice piercing each nerve ending he touched.

  He picked her up then, carrying her to their bed. “Elizabeth, my darling wife,” he whispered as he kissed the sensitive flesh behind her ear, “You are utterly miraculous, enthralling, bewitching, and so incredibly sensuous. You drive me wild with desire!”

  His magic hands were everywhere at once, propelling her to a frenzied state of aching hunger. She pivoted to face him, flinging one leg over his hip and locking her foot behind his knee. He understood what she needed and was more than willing to comply. Leisurely, then with increasing ardor, they loved, attaining sweet glory in the embrace of the other.

  “I love you; I love you,�
�� his voice rasped as he inhaled roughly. “My sweet Lord, how I love you, Elizabeth!” He kissed her face, smoothing tangled hair from her eyes, before he moved to the side. Arms embracing, he nestled her to his heaving chest. “I do not know how I survived all these years without you,” he whispered.

  “Nor I,” she answered sleepily, exhaustion and satiation overtaking her. Darcy smiled, releasing her only to cover them both and draw the bed curtains. Cuddling her closely, listening to her regular breathing, Darcy quickly fell into an undisturbed and revitalizing slumber.

  ELIZABETH AWOKE GROGGILY WITH the bizarre impression of having lost something. For several minutes she experienced total disorientation. She was in an enormous, strange bed with dark curtains drawn about. She was alone, and the sensation of emptiness and heartache persisted even though she could not immediately identify the cause. She rubbed her heavy eyes and forced them to remain open. Part of her wanted to retreat back into sleep but the other part, the part that felt uneasy, urged her to wake up. She made herself sit up and, as she did so, her gaze fell on the slight depression in the pillow and mattress next to her. Immediately reality crashed over her consciousness. She knew exactly where she was and the fact that she was alone hit her as an almost physical blow.

  “William?” she called, her voice louder than she intended and, to her mild shame, bordering on hysteria. How could she feel so bereft after only two days of waking with his body beside her? Why this sense of panic?

  She jumped out of the bed, grabbing her nightgown from the floor where, in their haste, it had been tossed. She pulled it on quickly and had her hand on the doorknob before rationality returned to her clouded mind. It certainly would not do for the Mistress of Pemberley to go dashing through the house in her nightgown!

  Calm yourself, Elizabeth! Think! Her first thought was that she was quite cold. William’s robe, the one she had worn last night, was lying over the chair so she put it on. Instantly she felt coherency and calmness wash over her. The combination of warmth and her husband’s scent restored her clarity. She realized suddenly and with acute embarrassment that she was being utterly ridiculous. William would not have left her without good reason. All she need do was to ring, and a servant would appear and tell her what was happening.

  She inhaled deeply. Looking at the mantel clock, she noted that it was only a little after seven. William must have arisen early. She walked back to the bed and touched the spot where his head had lain. It was cold. She actually felt tears start in her eyes. Really, Lizzy! she chided herself, what would he think to see you acting the lovesick fool!

  Then she noticed the note on the bed stand with her name written in his hand. She collapsed onto the end of the bed and picked it up. I truly am a fool. Of course he would leave me a note!

  Beloved,

  I woke early, as is my usual wont, not that you would necessarily have ascertained this fact based on these past two days! You were sleeping peacefully and absolutely beautifully. I knew I would be unable to resist waking you if I tarried any longer. I wished to check on the new colt. I will not be long. As much as I love my horses, they in no way compare to you, my precious wife. So strong is my desire to kiss you—even as I write this note I am overwhelmed by the need to do so—that my visit to the stables will be brief. I love you so, my darling.

  William

  She had no sooner finished reading when she heard the faint squeak of the door opening. She bolted up and rushed across the room without pausing to determine if it was he, not that anyone else would be entering their bedchamber. It was Darcy and he had only opened the door enough to peek his head in. His face lit up at seeing her, but she so surprised him that he literally fell against the jamb when she flew into him. He caught her with one arm, the other desperately grabbing at the wall to keep from falling over. He involuntarily grunted and winced when his back made contact with the hard wood.

  “Oh, William! I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” She stepped back a pace so he could right himself, her hands on his face.

  “No more than a bruise, my love,” he laughed. He shut the door and took her into his arms, kissing her soundly. He reluctantly let go but took her hand and walked over to the chair by the fire. He sat down and began pulling off his boots.

  “Let me,” she said, and knelt down in front of him, pushing his hands away and removed his boots.

  He leaned back and watched her, a happy smile on his face. She stole a glance up at him, really examining him for the first time, and paused in her task, mouth dropping open.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “What in the world are you wearing?” she questioned him in astonishment. Elizabeth would never in a million years have imagined the impeccable Mr. Darcy in such attire. His shirt was of coarse linen discolored from old sweat, open at the neck and without cravat; his breeches were stained with mud and had actual tears in the knees; and his thick coat was threadbare with two buttons missing! Even more incredible to her was how alluring he appeared. The rough clothing, his face unshaven with cheeks flushed from the cold, mussed hair clinging damply to his neck, and the musky smell of horse and earth combined to elicit an odd response from her senses.

  He looked down at himself, having totally forgotten what he was wearing in his yearning to see his wife, and blushed scarlet. He stood up quickly. “Forgive me, Elizabeth! I intended to clean up and change,” he spluttered. “I only meant to make sure you were still asleep. Give me a moment…” He turned toward his dressing room, but Elizabeth snatched his hand.

  She stood up and placed her hands on his chest. He watched her with a mingled expression of bafflement and mortification. “I did not say I disapproved,” she said softly, “In fact, you are rather fetching. So… rugged and… wild!”

  He stared at her, a tiny frown crossing his features. “Are you making fun of me?”

  She stepped closer and ran her fingers along his jawbone. “Do I look as though I am teasing you?”

  “No,” he swallowed. “However, I do not comprehend how my work clothes would captivate you. I wear these when I train the horses. I am dirty and… unorganized!” She had moved even nearer and was kissing his neck. “Elizabeth, you cannot be serious!” He was aghast.

  She spoke softly against his ear, “Did you not tell me that you first knew you loved me when I walked to Netherfield to see Jane? Was I not wild and disheveled? You confessed you found me attractive, sir. How desirable did you find me then?” she inquired with a gentle nibble to his lobe.

  “Exceedingly so,” he breathed. He grasped her elbows and pulled back so he could see her face. “So, you are telling me that all this time I only needed to don these garments and I would have driven you mad with longing?” He grinned and arched one brow.

  “Perhaps,” she answered pertly, “I guess we shall never know. It is, however, currently having a tremendously positive affect on me.” The ministrations of her hands proved her sincerity. She had untucked his shirt while she spoke and was running her palms up and down his back with ever increasing urgency.

  He laughed and shook his head. “I cannot help but visualize all the money I could have saved on clothing if I had only known this fact.” Then he kissed her and willingly surrendered to her wishes. “I am beginning to wonder about you, Mrs. Darcy. First you confess that you enjoyed the forceful lovemaking of two days ago, and now you are driven to heights of passion by the mere appearance of me in my rough attire.”

  “You married a country girl, sir. I am enchanted by raw nature and unpretentious adornments. You, my love, are astonishingly alluring and arousing. It is nearly too much incitement for a simple girl like me to withstand.” The truth of her teasing words was quickly proved.

  They loved quickly, furiously, and rapturously, not bothering to remove clothing. Darcy collapsed, rolling to the side with Lizzy still held in a snug embrace. She nestled close, burying her face into his shoulder. Darcy was exhausted and, despite lying sideways on the bed half clothed, felt sleep creeping over him. Lizzy rose
up on an elbow and smiled as she brushed mussed hair off his sweaty forehead. He smiled back, caressing her cheek gently.

  “You can take these off now,” she whispered, tugging on the fabric of his shirt.

  He laughed, “Thank you for your permission to do so; however, I now find I do not have the energy to expend on the task.”

  “Allow me then,” and she sat up, first addressing the breeches that were bunched absurdly at his knees. She studied him as she worked, not with desire for the moment but with simple delight regarding his figure. “It is amazing, is it not?”

  “What is?”

  “How our bodies are designed so perfectly for each other. The pleasure we derive from the other’s touch and appearance.” She blushed and would not meet his eyes. “Does it surprise you, William, or… disturb you in any way at how forward I am and… how wanton you make me?”

  “Elizabeth, I am so far removed from being disturbed by your desire for me that there is not an adequate word for the emotion. As to being surprised, well, yes I am; however, not in the way you intimate.” She looked at him quizzically, and he smiled. “I am not surprised by your passion, my love. It was your passion that attracted me to you and captivated me. Passion for your family, for your opinions, and for life in total. I always knew you would be a passionate lover. My surprise is that I am the man whom you have gifted with your passion and that I am capable of inciting you so. I am not worthy of it and do not deserve you.”

  “You are too harsh in your self-assessment, my love. I may be passionate in the ways you have listed, yet you seem to be alluding to the fact that my ardor could be inspired by anyone, and I can assure you that is not the case.”

  He paled at her words. “No, Elizabeth, I did not mean…”

  She shushed him and tugged on his hands until he sat up next to her. She undressed him and then removed her own rumpled nightgown. She kissed him thoroughly before pulling back slightly and gazing into his clear eyes. “Now, my heart, I insist you give me what was so cruelly taken from me this morning.”