Mr. Darcy's Perfect Storm: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by Caitlin Marie Carrington

Author:Caitlin Marie Carrington [Carrington, Caitlin Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Naughty Bits (aka PWP), Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Purchased, Read, Sequels
Amazon: B073M81XZP
Goodreads: 35562468
Published: 2017-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

Nine

Elizabeth

Oh no. He can't. He can't intend to.

Oh my—he is.

Elizabeth's head fell back on the pillow, her eyes staring at the ceiling. Darcy was between her legs, doing things she had only ever imagined a physician might attempt. Only—no—God help her—

This was decidedly not a medical exercise.

"Breathe, Elizabeth," he said. And surprisingly, she did.

He was at her core, at her entrance. She could not see him well in the dark, though she could make out his massive shoulders between her trembling thighs, and his dark head of hair, bent over her as if he were praying.

"You smell divine," Darcy growled. "Let's see if you taste as wonderful."

And then he kissed her. There. With an open mouth and with his tongue moving just as when he'd held her open and plundered her lips minutes before.

"I—you can't—" Lizzy gasped.

But oh, he was.

His tongue was wicked and quick and talented. He kissed her slowly, making love to her in the most shocking of places. And slowly, her own disbelief wore off and she realized…

It felt good.

It felt…wonderful.

Sinful, and hot, and wet and—

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth moaned.

His tongue had found that special, sweet spot between her legs. When he pressed there, hard, harder, her thighs shook and she felt a slow unfurling of pleasure throughout her body.

And then he kept going. And going.

"That's it, Elizabeth," he murmured, his breath ghosting across her core. "I love to watch you come apart as I touch you."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. I must not cry out, I must not cry out, she told herself. She would die if anyone heard them or discovered them like this.

He should stop.

She should send him away.

But she couldn't—she couldn't make herself want to stop him. Stop this.

And then, she felt a pressure at her entrance. She stiffened, immediately. "Darcy, no, you said you wouldn't—"

He kissed her thigh and seemed to laugh or gasp in pain. "It's just my finger. Despite how much it wants to, my cock isn't getting near you tonight."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her, but he must have felt the tension in her body melt away. It was strange how quickly this became normal, or somewhat normal. The grand, stately Mr. Darcy had spread her legs open and was doing indecent, delightful things with his hands. He had said the word cock, which Elizabeth had only heard once or twice, when passing by groups of young men in town.

And then one of his hands was on her breast, plucking at her as if he were playing a musical instrument. She arched into his hand, and he growled in approval against her wet, heated flesh.

And then his wicked, wonderful tongue was back at the bud between her legs. And while he made her moan and gasp, his finger worked its way inside her. Elizabeth moaned and clenched around it, gasping at the pressure. She bit her lip and tried not to cry out. It hurt…for a moment.

Until suddenly, it didn't.

"Ah, Elizabeth. You'll be the death of me.

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