The Trials of the Honorable F. Darcy (11 page)

“What do you think I have been doing for the last eight hours?” she laughed.

“Torturing me.”

She looked at him, his strong jaw with a hint of stubble showing, his lidded green eyes, his tousled hair. He was absolutely the most beautiful man she had ever seen, bar none. How could she have missed it before? And what in the world was she doing in his bed? She decided that she was not going to analyze it, she was going to go with the flow. If he tossed her off at the end of the two weeks, then so be it. She was going to live the rest of her vacation with absolutely no regrets.

She turned on her side and snuggled her rump into his groin, curling up. She was drowsy; the sexual tension of the day had been exhausting. She closed her eyes and felt him run his finger along the line of her neck.

“I have been wanting to kiss this exact spot for weeks,” he said as he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, just where her hair curled. She smiled at the sensation of his lips on her skin. His tongue lightly touched against her flesh. She closed her eyes and tipped her head forward to allow him greater access.

“And this spot,” he said as he swept her dark curls over her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. “For weeks.”

Elizabeth pushed herself up onto one elbow so that her hair hung over her shoulder. He sent a line of kisses from her ear to her shoulder. She closed her eyes and smiled with satisfaction as she felt him harden against her. He trailed a finger over her breast, down her belly, and touched the hair between her legs. She felt her own warmth building again beneath his touch. He was infernally sexy! His erection was pushing between her legs from behind, his fingers tracing small circles on her pubic bone, stimulating her clitoris. She was quickly aroused and he would have brought her to ecstasy again if she had not stopped him.

Elizabeth turned and pushed him on his back, then straddled him. He had an almost pained expression on his face as she slid onto his erection.

His hands touched her breasts, stroking them as he looked at her. She began to move on him, undulating on him as if she were dancing to a slow, sensual song. She squeezed him inside her and dipped to lick his nipples. He let out a helpless moan and tousled her hair with his fingers. She sat up and rode him, pulling her hair up with her arms, eyes closed in pleasure. Darcy put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him as he thrust into her. As their pace intensified, she dropped her hands to either side of his head and leaned down to kiss him, her hair falling in a curtain around him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he muttered against her lips as she rode him in long strokes. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight, climaxing as she kissed him. She continued to ride him as his tremors waned and soon found her own apex. With a stifled cry she came again, clenching his hair in her fingers and pushing her hips against his.

She floated back to earth with sighs that rode on hot breaths. She cradled his head in her arms and continued to kiss him. They shared deep, tender kisses far beyond the recession of their climaxes. She pressed her chest against his and felt the timbre of his heartbeat against hers.

His fingers found their way to the back of her head, holding her close as they kissed. He twisted strands of her hair through his fingers and then combed his hands through her mane of curls. He circled his arms around her and shifted to his side, settling her beside him, her face in his neck. He began to drift off.

She lay in his arms for a few moments, her hot breath reflected off his neck back into her face. With a contented sigh, she turned her back to him and pressed her rear into his hips.

His arm draped across her waist, pulling her closer, and his knees curved behind hers in an intimate, protective spoon. He planted a sleepy kiss on the back of her neck.

She smiled lazily; she was dropping off to sleep with the sexiest man alive wrapped around her and kissing her. Dreams didn’t get much better than that.

June 5-Wednesday

Darcy woke up early, just as the sun was creeping in and lighting up the room. He looked at Elizabeth sleeping beside him. She was on her belly, one arm over the edge of the bed, one under her chest. Her hair was swirled around her head, over her shoulders and her back. He pushed the coverlet down to her waist to look at her smooth, creamy back. It was a perfect back. He leaned over and smelled her hair, the scent of her shampoo still clinging to it. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. He wasn’t aroused
,
any more than he usually was when he awoke; he just wanted to kiss her, to feel her warm, smooth skin under his own. He moved closer to her so that he touched her along the entire length of her body. He put his head on the pillow and watched her, waiting for her to wake.

He mused on the fact that she was even in his bed at all and the implications it held. He had no regrets, rules be damned. He’d figure it out later. But what was she thinking? And would she want Bingley and Jane to know? He suspected Bingley would think it was a fling and think nothing more of it. Jane however was likely to feel protective of Elizabeth and disapprove of a wild 2-week affair. He didn’t care who thought what about them but he would take his cues from Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned her head toward him, eyes open. He smiled as she twisted to her side to face him with a drowsy grin, pulling her hand from under her chest to rest on his. She sighed and snuggled closer, drawing one leg over his waist. He put one arm under her neck and the other around her and squeezed. She squeezed back.

“Good morning,” she mumbled into his neck. He kissed the top of her head; she turned her face up to receive another on her lips. It wasn’t long before they were entwined again. Darcy was a little startled to realize he was making love to her; he was sexually aroused but he was also feeling something for her. He wanted her to be happy in his bed. He kissed her and asked her if she wanted him to touch her; not like last night
-
that had been for him, he had wanted to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her
-
but for her, to please her. When she nodded, he began to caress her in warm, tender strokes. What followed was the most intimate sex Darcy had ever had. He felt something connect, maybe their minds had melded, maybe the stars aligned, but he knew what she wanted before she did and he gave it to her without reservation. He told her that she was beautiful, that she was exactly what he wanted. Climax was long and slow and gentle.

They basked in the morning sun in contentment for a while. Then Elizabeth reluctantly pulled herself from his arms. He remained in bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m sneaking back to my room,” she smiled as she pulled her things together.

Sneaking. I guess it’s a secret. He snuggled down deeper into the pillows and pulled the blankets up to his nose.

“It’s much more fun in here,” he coaxed. She leaned across the bed and pushed the blanket away from his nose, kissing his lips warmly.

“It’s too fun in there. We’ll starve.” He sighed and watched her as she slipped out and ran down the hall to her own room. He faintly heard her door click shut. He tossed the blankets off. Why was he annoyed? This was her call, she could keep it secret if she wanted, why did he care? Was she embarrassed? Shy? Maybe her sister thought she was a virgin?

He showered and dressed distractedly. He finally decided that he was annoyed because secrecy meant no holding hands or kissing when anyone else was around, which was all the time. Secrecy meant car rides, stolen nights, long walks in the woods. Not sharing dinners, not putting his arm around her at a play, not holding her hand at the museum. It meant restrictions. He didn’t like restrictions. But something was better than nothing, as he could now definitely attest. And so he would follow her lead until she indicated otherwise.

Jane was chatting with Elizabeth when he arrived at the breakfast table.

“
...
you didn’t hear me at all?” Jane was saying in disbelief.

“I told you, I was very tired. I didn’t hear anything all night,” Elizabeth replied. Jane looked at her in annoyed disbelief. When they saw Darcy, Jane changed the subject.

In the car on the way to London, Darcy asked Elizabeth what they had been talking about.

“Apparently, last night Jane wanted to talk to me but I just wouldn’t answer my door when she knocked. I am a very deep sleeper,” she smiled. Darcy smirked. She continued,

“The funny part is that she wanted to apologize for making me spend so much time with you because she knows how much I dislike you.”

Darcy laughed.

“If that was dislike, I need to make you love me,” he joked. Elizabeth smiled and looked out the window. Neither of them let the words “too late” enter their consciousness.

Elizabeth behaved herself at the seminar but Darcy still couldn’t concentrate. He was distracted by her smell, her closeness. All he could think about was touching her, holding her, being with her with no outside distractions. He didn’t have the skill to tease her as she had teased him yesterday; all he could do was brood over his unhappy luck.

She knew he was unhappy but wasn’t exactly sure why other than the fact that they were actually vertical instead of horizontal. She jotted a note to him:

What’s wrong?

He read it and replied
I don’t want to be here.

Where do you want to be?

I think you know.

Is that all you can think about?

Yes.

This is a very important seminar!

Want to ditch?

Yes!

Darcy could not believe he was acting like a schoolboy, skiving off classes, chasing pretty girls. They gathered their things as unobtrusively as possible and left the room. Once outside, Darcy broke into a wide grin. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the street and they took a walk through London. He stopped at a stall and bought her flowers; she laughed and thanked him.

He took her to Trafalgar square and made her stand under the stone lions while he took a picture of her with her cell phone. “Everyone has to have this picture, you’ll thank me when you’re eighty,” he said when she complained about it being a tourist trap.

“What about you?”

“I grew up here, I don’t need it.”

“Yes you do, come here.” She took the phone from him and pulled him by her side, then held out the phone to take a picture of both of them. As she clicked the picture, he kissed her cheek.

“You’ve ruined it!” she laughed. “Stand still and be a good boy!” This time he put his head close to hers and smiled contentedly as she snapped a picture. Satisfied, she snapped the phone shut. He grabbed her around the waist and planted a kiss on her lips. She returned it with a smile and they walked away hand in hand.

“Can we ditch tomorrow, too?” she sighed as they walked back toward the hotel.

“I’d be disappointed if we didn’t,” he replied.

“What would you like to do?”

He shrugged noncommittally.

“What would you do if you were here alone?” she asked.

“Either go to the racetrack or ride the horses or ride motorcycles. Guy stuff,” he grinned.

“I think I’d like to do any of those things, if you’d like some company,” she suggested. He looked at her skeptically. She shrugged. “Unless it’s a
guy’s
-only thing, like strippers are involved or something.”

“Then you should definitely come,” he grinned.

“Honestly, it wasn’t a strip show!” she said, referring to the now-infamous
‘Hot Stuff’
performance. “You are far too fixated on that.”

“It did make an impression.”

“I will have to show you something else then,” she said slyly as she sniffed her flowers. Darcy’s face flushed.

“I’d like that. Let’s make it a date. Tonight.” His voice held a hint of challenge.

“I’ll consider it. Right now we need to meet Jane and Bingley.” He groaned. Elizabeth jerked her hand from his and took a step away, then waved at Jane and Bingley halfway down the block. As they waited for them to catch up, Elizabeth coyly asked,

“What would I get in return?”

Hmmm
...
what would turn her on? She was quite adept at arousing him and she seemed to be equally skilled at arousing herself. But he did not know what he could do to excite her. He was perplexed and looked to her for an answer. She laughed.

“Those riding pants and boots were pretty sexy,” she suggested. He laughed.

Darcy was more engaged at dinner, no longer driven to distraction by Elizabeth. Of course he still wanted her but now he knew he would have her. Anticipation only sweetened the reward.

They enjoyed a long dinner until Jane and Bingley said they had to leave for the ballet. They walked to the curb together to await their cars.

“Won’t you be back awfully late? You shouldn’t drive back so late. Why don’t you take my suite at the Ritz?” Darcy suggested. Bingley smiled with pleasure at the idea but Jane demurred.

“Thank you, Will, but we don’t want to be any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, I own the suite.” Elizabeth looked at him surprise. He owned a suite at the Ritz? Why was he giving it to them instead of taking her there?

“Well, I don’t have an overnight bag, I’d have to wear this tomorrow!” Jane laughed, indicating her dress, heels, and shawl.

“Oh, Georgie has clothes there, I’m sure you’d fit into them! She’s about your size. She wouldn’t mind, even if she knew!” Darcy assured her.

Jane looked hesitant and Elizabeth could see Darcy beginning to be dismayed. He wanted to have Elizabeth to himself all night long. Elizabeth took Jane aside and said in a low voice,
“Jane, can’t you see Will wants to give Charley a night to romance you? He’s very happy for him. Let Darcy give this to Bingley. Besides, when will you ever get the chance to stay at the London Ritz again?” Horrified at the thought of coming between some kind of manly bonding, Jane immediately nodded.

“Thank you Will, you’re very sweet. I can pick up some things if I need them.” Jane blushed prettily in the moonlight and Darcy whipped out his cell phone to arrange the hotel. He gave specific instructions that they were the guests of Fitzwilliam Darcy and every attention was to be given to them, round the clock.

Jane and Bingley waved as they climbed into their car and drove away.

“Clever girl,” Darcy murmured in her ear, putting his hand on her bottom. She laughed.

“You don’t know Jane. All you have to do is suggest somebody’s feelings might be hurt and she’ll do whatever you want.”

“Lucky for me I got the saucy one,” he said as he kissed her ear.

“Really? You don’t think Bingley’s getting blowjobs like there’s no tomorrow?” she murmured. Darcy’s jaw hung open slightly open at the notion. She laughed and pushed him away and their car arrived.

They rode home in easy conversation and raced up the steps laughing.

“Meet you in the billiards room,” he said as she stopped at her room.

“Why there?”

“That’s where the music is,” he grinned, walking backwards toward his room. She grinned and entered her room. She frantically looked through her things searching for something sexy to wear but to no avail. Nothing was really performance-worthy. Her leather pants were sexier but pajama bottoms were easier to get off in a rash moment. Decisions, decisions. She went with the leather. Sometimes you had to pay a price to look great. She chose a white tank top and push up bra with the lace peeking over the edge, then decided to discard the bra completely. She let her hair down, brushed it, and gave it a finger-do to make it look bedroom-ready. She picked up her iPod and snuck barefoot downstairs.

Darcy was sitting in a chair with his booted feet propped on an ottoman. He’d worn his riding breeches, as she requested, and his riding boots. He hadn’t been sure what shirt he should wear. A pull-over was out of the question; he thought she should have easy access. He imagined she had some romantic notion of a loose linen shirt to go with the breeches, which he would entertain if he had one but he didn’t. He settled for his suit shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the collar unbuttoned.

Elizabeth peeked her head around the billiards room door and saw Darcy sitting in the chair. He was toying with something in his hands and did not see her right away. She surreptitiously snapped a picture of him with her cell phone then closed the door behind her and playfully skipped over to him. He saw her and smiled widely. She sat on his lap and traced his collarbone with her finger.

“Very dashing,” she purred. He put a hand on her leather clad thigh and squeezed.

“Very sexy,” he replied, nuzzling her neck. “I thought you might need this,” he said, running a riding crop over her leg.

“Hey, slow down, I’m not that kinky!” she laughed. He flicked her lightly with the crop and chuckled. “Yet,” she murmured in his neck. He kissed her, then pulled away.

“I’m waiting for my show,” he teased, nudging her in the ribs.

She grinned and stood up; he flicked her rear with the crop, making her yelp and laugh. He sat back in the chair. She plugged her iPod into the dock and took the remote with her. She played
‘Hot Stuff’
and pranced around the room, dancing for laughs more than to seduce. He didn’t care
...
he wanted her no matter what. He appreciated that she could laugh at herself, would let him laugh at her too.

She had started with Hot Stuff as a little warm-up, an ice-breaker. She knew he’d seen her do it when she was half-drunk; he couldn’t be expecting much. She thought it would be funny and get a laugh out of him. When she finished, she bounced over to him for praise. He laughed and kissed her nose.

“I think your number needs more spanking,” he teased as she crawled into his lap for a kiss.

“That was just my warm-up number, limber up the joints,” she said as she climbed out of his lap. He didn’t want to let her go, he was satisfied with the show, but she insisted.

She stood before him, flicked the remote, and the electric strains of Paul Oakenfold’s
‘
Faster Kill Pussycat
’
came from the speakers. The pulsing beat and the grinding chords lent themselves exceptionally well to her dance.

She began by swinging her hips, arms out to her sides, fingers snapping, gyrating to the beat. She let her hair hang down by her face, peering through it at him with hungry eyes. She assumed her best sultry, sexpo
t expression. She began to sing.

She put her hands in her hair, closed her eyes, and pressed her knees together, stooping slightly as if her knees were weakened by her overwhelming arousal. She ran her hand down her chest, let her fingers catch the bottom of her top, and ran her hands back up, exposing her be
lly to him. She sang the chorus.

She opened her eyes and looked directly at him, put her legs out in a V, and then walked toward him cat-walk style. She drew an arm up and pointed at him while she shook her hips to the beat.

Then she leaned over him, hands on the arms of his chair, singing just inches from him.

She pushed herself off of his chair and swung her back to him, walking toward the door, then turned and crooked her finger at him:

She turned her back to him again and walked away, hips swinging sensually. Then she undulated her rear in a circular motion to each syllable of
the song,
an
d sang over her shoulder at him.
She looked at him again with
that sultry expression and sang.

She ran her fingers through her hair and sank to the floor, crawling cat-like toward him.

When she reached his chair, she rolled to her butt, swinging her legs in the air, came to a crouch, then stood up. She gave him a sultry, breathless look and sang
.

She walked to the door and undulated her hips at him again, pulling her shirt up beneath her breasts to show him her bare back, singing
.

Before the song was even over, Darcy was behind her pressing her to the door, turning her toward him, crushing her lips with kisses. He lifted her to his hips and braced her against the door, kissing her neck. She wrapped her legs around him and twined her arms around his neck. He ground his hips against hers. His hands were on her breasts, feeling them through her shirt, pushing it up to touch her flesh. He ran his hands over her butt, feeling the slick leather under his palms. He put his fingers in the waistband of her pants and undid the button. Then he put his arms around her waist, swung her away from the door and carried her to the pool table. He put her on the edge of the table and kissed her while he pulled at the zipper of her pants.

“You”
-
kiss
-
“are”
-
kiss
-
“so”
-
kiss
-
“phenomenally”
-
kiss
-
“fuckable,” he breathed as he struggled to pull the tight leather over her hips; she laughed in desperation and hunger as she leaned back to help him. Her elbows banged against billiard balls, making a clacking noise as her pants finally fell to the floor. Darcy didn’t even take his off. He unzipped and pushed himself into her against the pool table. It was quick; he had been aroused to an absurd degree by her performance. He couldn’t even hear the music anymore, just the blood rushing in his ears. He came quickly and buried his face in her neck.

“Lizzy, what have you done to me?” he asked weakly. She laughed softly in his ear. He hugged her tighter and kissed her on the lips. “Give me a moment, let me make it up to you,” he murmured.

She nodded. She was amazed at the power she had over him, how fierce his reaction was to her. After a moment, he looked at her and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Can I take you to bed?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she smiled. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, where he placed her in the bed and made love to her until she cried out his name.