Page 2 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

Compelled by curiosity and a fondness for reading, she had taken the book into the nearest room, Sir William’s library. Most of the party had gathered in the drawing-room for cards, and in the library, she was assured of solitude. Beside a lone lamp, she opened the book with every expectation of reading no further than the first few pages to confirm the worthlessness of the work and justification for the prosecution of its author, John Cleland. Instead, she found, much like Fanny Hill in her first licentious experience, that the obscenity intrigued more than disgusted her. She flushed reading the passage of that first encounter between Fanny and Phoebe, and her own body responded in the most unsettling way with that warm aggravation in her loins and moistness between her legs.

“There you are!”

Startled, Lizzy dropped the book and hastily retrieved it to set it, face-down, upon the table beside her, regretting that she had not checked to see that the library doors had been tightly shut.

“I fear you must find the company of my regiment disappointing,” George Wickham remarked.

The sparkle in his eyes made her cognizant of the weakness of her sex, and she once more admired how dashing he appeared in his bright red coat and white trousers encasing his legs in a tight fit.

“Not at all! I am sorry to give that impression,” Lizzy replied. “I was merely replacing a book that I had found in the corridor.”

“Ah, that is some relief,” he said, advancing toward her. “There is talk of dancing. I think Sir William cannot long refuse your sisters.”

“For Lydia and Kitty, no party is complete without dancing.”

Wickham gave a gracious smile. “You are not opposed to the activity…I hope?”

Her breath caught. Did he have an interest in dancing with her? He had often shown a preference for her company, and she had accepted his attentions with much agreement.

“Not at all,” she found herself repeating. She was happy to join Wickham but wanted a moment to calm the lust her reading had provoked. “I will be in attendance shortly.”

She wondered what she would do with the book. Should she leave it in the library and retrieve it later?

“Allow me to replace the book for you,” Wickham offered and picked up the book before she could stop him.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said quickly and tried to pluck the book from his hand. Their fingers brushed, and a palpitation went through her.

He did not relinquish the book but dropped his gaze to her hand, which half-covered his. In doing so, he saw the title. The surprise on his face was evident, and Lizzy felt the flush in her cheeks deepen.

“This is…Sir William’s?” he asked.

“I think not,” she confessed. “I found it and—and meant to—”

“Read it.”

“No!”

“You appeared to be reading it when I walked in.”

She dropped her hand and took a step away from him.

He took a step toward her. “Please, I did not mean to offend. I find it remarkable that one of the delicate sex would dare consume the contents of such a book.”

This unexpected compliment and the sincerity of his tone thawed her guard, and she was prepared to be amenable to him once more.

“We are not so delicate as your sex would believe or wish, but I am not familiar with the work of Mr. Cleland, so I cannot know if courage is required to read it. I found the book in the corridor and suspect it belongs to one of your brother-in-arms?”

He glanced from the book back to her and, taking her hand, placed it in her grasp. They stood with mere inches separating them. Her breath became uneven, and it seemed his did, too.

“I confess I am intrigued to know your thoughts on what you have read,” he said, lowering his head for his voice had become deep and husky.

She hesitated for she worried her voice would waver too much. “Mr. Cleland clearly intends to titillate the reader.”

“And do you find he is successful in his aim?”

He had lowered his head to such a degree that she could not comfortably focus upon the whole of his countenance, so she fixed her gaze upon his mouth. His nearness had scattered her thoughts, and she replied, without advanced contemplation, “Yes.”

The word emerged as a whisper and was the invitation he sought for he dropped his mouth to hers. That flame she had hoped to quell moments before surged inside her. He wrapped an arm about her waist, pulling her into him. She required no further encouragement and returned his kiss despite the intuition that she was much less practiced than he. Book still in hand, she wound her arms about his neck. He ground his hips at her. Desire pooled low and hot within her as she felt the thickness of his cock pressing into her belly.