Page 93 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

He was lost.

Seizing her to him, he kissed her with desperate fervor. He could not prevail. Her arguments were too strong, her body too compelling. This time, however, he was better prepared, but he did not yet reach for the condom. First, he made love to every inch of her body, caressing her from head to toe with lips and hands. His favourite parts of her included the smoothness of her back, the slight swell of her belly, and the suppleness of her thighs. Gently, he removed her skirts and chemise.

“I will see you in your glory this time,” she said when he was done.

Obliging, he kicked off his shoes, discarded the stockings, and pulled down his trousers. His erection stood at proud attention. She caressed his parts with her gaze, her lips parted as she studied his form. He closed her mouth with his and fitted his body to hers. The softness of her skin, of bare flesh to bare flesh, made the blood pound in his groin. The scent of her desire hung in the air, fueling his lust. It would not be long before he would want to ravish her without mercy. He groped a breast and fondled the nipple. She moaned into his touch.

He kneaded the orb and toyed with the hardened rosebud till she writhed and panted. His other hand reached for a buttock and squeezed lightly the tender flesh. She wrapped her arms about his neck and ground the seat of her desire at him. His head swam and the blood churned in his groin, but he resisted the temptation to plunge himself into her depths. Remembering how exquisite she had felt about him, he could not be assured he could withhold from spending before she arrived at her own paroxysm. Instead, he poured his lust into a kiss. He moved his hand from her derrière to cup the back of her head and claimed that delicious pair of lips. She responded in the most heady fashion. He was damned. For his appetite for this woman would never be tempered or satiated.

Only when he sensed her impatience did he reach for the thin sheath that would have made all the difference before in easing the heartache and suspense. He slipped the condom on. The pause in action allowed him to collect restraint. Parting her legs farther, he applied his mouth to her. Her head fell back as his tongue circled and stroked her. She gasped in rapture. He teased and lapped at her till she was at the brink once more. Rising to his knees, he rubbed the length of his desire against her. Her hands fisted the bedclothes beneath. And then he entered her.

She gasped loudly, and he worried that he might have hurt her, though only the crown of his shaft had penetrated. It was possible, given the length of time that had passed, the breach was little different than the taking of her virginity. She had closed her eyes, but when she opened them, they sparkled, setting him at some relief. He did his best to rein in his urgency. His cock, pulsing at the beauty before it, wanted to indulge in the greatest of all carnal thrills.

“Why do you stop?”

She shifted her hips, and he felt her inner muscles move against him. The sensation demolished all forbearance. He sank deeper into her. She felt as glorious as ever. He had to close his eyes to the magnificence of her hot womanhood pulsing all around him. He opened his eyes to behold her reaction. She responded by wrapping her legs about him with the ease of a practiced strumpet. He buried himself more fully inside her. She groaned her approval.

If only she knew with whom she lay. If she knew who brought her this bliss and rapture, she might be more receptive to his suit.

But it was also possible she would be too shocked and rendered too awkward to want to have anything to do with him. He ought to enjoy the moment. It was likely the last he would have with her.

The weight of the realization made him take her mouth with more force than he intended. Undaunted, she returned the kiss. Without releasing her lips, he began to undulate his hips. She met his every thrust. The sensation of her soft, supple body beneath him enthralled, inciting the desire to overwhelm her with the strength and hardness of his own. Entwining his fingers in hers, he pulled her arms above head and gradually began an earnest rhythm. He could sense her climax approaching by her shallow breaths, the quickened groans, and how she crushed her pelvis to him. Withdrawing from the kiss but still holding her arms in place, he concentrated on the angle of his thrusts to push her over the edge and into the pool of ecstasy.

With a cry, she trembled beneath him, her limbs jerking with wild abandon. Witnessing her in the throes of pleasure, the tension collected in his groin gathered fast and furious. Pinning her to the bed, he shoved himself at her with desperate vigor till the pressure found release. The most magnificent pleasure erupted through him, shooting through his legs, making them quiver. His groans came from a place deep and raw. His body could know no greater glory. After a few final shudders, he allowed the weight of his lower body to settle over hers, his cock still throbbing inside of her.

“My God,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“My God,” she echoed.

He pulled back to observe the brightness of her eyes and the flush of her cheeks. The perspiration only added to the glow in her countenance and reaffirmed that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. Now that he had come down from the heavens, the very height of elation, he was cognizant that his heart ached as never before.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Sunlight streamed in through the window. Lizzy awoke with a surge of vivacity. The slight ache between her thighs recalled the activities of the prior evening. She embraced her pillow with the glee of a child. She wanted to scream. How strange was the hand of providence! When she thought of the shock, dismay, thrill, and euphoria she had experienced in so short a span a time, it was a wonder she could think straight. It was certain that she came as near to affection and admiration for Mr. Darcy as ever she could for a man. Add to that a powerful attraction of a corporal nature, and she could want for nothing else. No other individual had excited such intensity of feelings within her. There had not been a moment last night that she did not savour. There was no manner of kiss that she did not enjoy, did not relish. She gloried in every caress, every touch.

And to-day she was to dine at Pemberley! She could hardly wait to see him again. Would she be able to contain her giddy anxiety? She could not reveal herself as his student. Of that she was certain. While it would be most hypocritical of him to judge her for her pursuit of carnal wickedness, it was possible he could take a different perspective on a prospective wife and wish for a woman of purity, an unblemished virgin. But she would not trouble herself on that, for she had first to confirm his current feelings for her.

The sound of her aunt and uncle below stairs roused her from her bed. Her spirits high, she had forgotten her disappointment at not receiving a letter from Jane. But after breakfast, the post brought two letters from Jane. One was marked that it had been missent elsewhere. Lizzy was not surprised as Jane had written the direction remarkably ill. They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and her uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by themselves. The one missent must first be attended to; it had been written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded; but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:

"Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you—be assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I that we never let them know what has been said against him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written."

Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing what she felt, Lizzy on finishing this letter instantly seized the other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows: it had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first.

"By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as the marriage between Mr. Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia's short letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W. never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B. intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no further; for on entering that place, they removed into a hackney coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible inquiry on that side London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but without any success—no such people had been seen to pass through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs. F., but no one can throw any blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be married privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if he could form such a design against a young woman of Lydia's connections, which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything? Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel F. is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be better; but this is not to be expected. And as to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances are such that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do I am sure I know not; but his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence, my uncle's advice and assistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness."

"Oh! where, where is my uncle?" cried Lizzy, darting from her seat as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing a moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door it was opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and impetuous manner made him start, and before he could recover himself to speak, she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia's situation, hastily exclaimed, "I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose."

"Good God! What is the matter?" cried he, with more feeling than politeness; then recollecting himself, "I will not detain you a minute, but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself."

Lizzy hesitated, but her knees trembled under her, and she felt how little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and mistress home instantly.

On his quitting the room she sat down, unable to support herself, and looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, "Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A glass of wine—shall I get you one? You are very ill."

"No, I thank you," she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. "There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn."

She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say something indistinctly of his concern and observe her in compassionate silence. At length she spoke again. "I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger sister has left all her friends—has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to—she is lost forever."

Darcy was fixed in astonishment. "When I consider," she added in a yet more agitated voice, "that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all—all too late now."