Elizabeth didn't think, didn't plan.Her bare feet carried her from her chamber before conscious thought could intervene.The corridor lay in darkness, but she knew the way.Had memorized it without meaning to.
His door opened immediately, as though he'd been waiting.He shut it behind her.
"I'm sorry, I tried not to—"
"Don't."The lock clicked as he cut through her babbling.His voice wasn't unkind, just...controlled.Flat."Come here."
Her feet moved, her body obeyed.
His chambers were exactly as she remembered—the massive bed, the banked fire casting shadows, his scent everywhere.It wrapped around her like silk, easing the worst of the fever's edge even as it stoked different flames.
Darcy's hands went to her wrapper, removing it efficiently.No tenderness in the gesture, just purpose.Then her nightgown fell to the floor.No words, no asking permission this time.He'd already seen her, touched her, tasted her.Why pretend at modesty?
Elizabeth stood naked before him, trembling from heat and something else.Shame, perhaps.Or anticipation.His dark eyes raked over her body—hungry, possessive—but his face remained impassive.As though she were a problem to solve, a task to complete.
"On the bed."
Two words.A command that brooked no argument, no negotiation.
Yes,her soul whispered.Yes.
She obeyed, sinking back against his bed.He shed his coat and waistcoat with practiced movements, rolled his shirtsleeves to the elbow.The methodical nature of it all made her feel like she was an account that needed settling.He joined her on the mattress, his hand finding its way between her thighs without ceremony.Nothing gentle about it, nothing tentative.Her gasp came unbidden, back bowing at the sudden contact, and it no longer mattered if she was merely another task to be completed—every fiber of her being rejoiced.
His hands knew her body now—a terrible, wonderful truth.Every place that made her breath catch, every touch that made her spine arch.He wielded that knowledge without mercy, and she keened for it, for him.
Her hand moved of its own accord, reaching for the solid warmth of him, needing something to anchor herself against the tide threatening to pull her under.But he caught her wrist before she could make contact, pressing it down into the mattress with firm inexorability.
"Stay still."
Two words, delivered in a tone she'd never heard from him.Raw.Commanding.The gentleman's veneer completely absent.This was the alpha beneath the careful control, and her omega nature responded without her permission, going pliant and obedient.
The sound that escaped her throat might have been agreement or protest—she no longer knew.His fingers never faltered, driving her toward inevitability with relentless focus.The first climax tore through her like lightning, leaving her gasping.He didn't pause, didn't gentle his touch, simply continued until her oversensitive flesh sparked with fresh need and she shattered again.
Elizabeth's hips bucked, seeking more, seeking less, seeking something she couldn't name.Then Darcy withdrew his hand.He moved down her trembling body without a word, shifting until his shoulders settled between her thighs, his hands spreading her open.
"Darcy, what—"
Then his mouth was on her and she nearly screamed.Oh God.OH GOD.This was—she couldn't—
He devoured her like a man starving.No gentleness, no hesitation.His tongue found places that made her sob, made her hands fist in the sheets until her knuckles ached.The wet heat of his mouth against her most intimate flesh sent lightning through every nerve.
When her thighs tried to close instinctively against the overwhelming sensation, his hands forced them wider, holding her open for his assault.When her hips twisted, trying to pull away from the intensity that bordered on pain, he pinned them down with bruising strength.
"Please—" The word broke on a gasp."I can't—"
He growled against her—actuallygrowled—and the vibration made her spine bow off the mattress.Her climax hit like a blow, tearing a broken cry from her throat as she shattered against his mouth.
He didn't stop.
How many times did she break apart?Three?Four?The count dissolved into blurry senselessness.She was sobbing now, words tumbling out—stop, don't stop, please—contradictions that made no sense.When Darcy finally raised his head, his mouth shone wet in the dim light.Those dark eyes had gone coal-black.He looked wild.Unhinged.Unleashed.The civilised gentleman utterly absent.Elizabeth could only watch, boneless and stunned, as his unsteady fingers worked at his breeches.
Darcy came up the bed, his thighs spreading her own apart with casual authority.Elizabeth's breath stuttered when he captured her hand, wrapping her fingers around himself.The hard heat of him pulsed against her palm—silk over steel, impossibly warm.She'd never touched a man like this, never imagined she would.
His hand covered hers, larger and rougher, showing her the rhythm without words.Just the steady glide of their joined hands, his breathing gone harsh and uneven.Elizabeth watched his face, transfixed by the tightness there—the muscle jumping in his jaw, the way his eyes squeezed shut then opened to fix on her with burning intensity.Control fraying at the edges, coming undone thread by thread.
How lovely her alpha looked like this.
Darcy's hand tightened over hers, the rhythm turning desperate.His other hand gripped her hip hard enough to bruise, anchoring himself.She felt him tensing, muscles coiling tighter, his breathing reduced to sharp pants.The tendons in his neck stood out like cords.
