Till the End of Time, Mr. Darcy by Emma Berkeley

Author:Emma Berkeley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mr. Darcy, Mr. Fitzwilliam, Lizzy Bennet, Elizabeth Bennet, Longbourn, Pemberley, JAFF, historical romance, regency, historical british women's regency fiction
Publisher: Emma Berkeley
Published: 2019-08-04T00:00:00+00:00

Lights and colours swirled behind her eyelids and she clung to him, terrified that the intensity of her body’s need for completion would send her beyond the realms of this now. He drove deeper, playing her with an expert perfection.

She arched her back and pushed into him. “Please...”

The world spun away from her as her body seemed to explode into a thousand spirals of light. He held her until her body quieted. He kissed her stomach from one side to the other, unbuckling his pants as he continued toward her breasts.

Elizabeth scooted higher on the bed and his pants hit the floor. He rose up over her like a glorious beast set to devour her. Lust blazed in his eyes and Elizabeth felt a thrill shoot through her. Her heart pounded and she curled one foot around his calf, thrilled at the sensations coursing through her body. The rasp of his rough legs against the inside of her own added another layer to her swirling, throbbing need.

He settled between her thighs and rested his belly against her. His warm lips played at the base of her neck, nipping her skin gently before kissing away any pain. The hardness and softness of him were like the perfect combination of salty and sweet.

His lips claimed hers as he pressed inside. Elizabeth moaned and involuntarily, she lifted her hips to meet him, to welcome him, and as he pushed deeper inside her, her body clenched as a result of the intense, but quick pain, and then tightened around him, rekindling her banked arousal.

He stroked her with a slow rhythm, building her own need until it matched his. Her hips quickened and she met each thrust. her fingers dug into his arms, his backside, and the side of his thigh where it pressed against hers. She needed this. She needed him.

They came together and as his warmth spilled into her, Elizabeth clenched tight, her body holding on to the sacred seed.

Chapter Eight

Pemberley was exceedingly vast, tastefully bedecked, and greatly well kept. Pemberley was now her home.

In the last year and some, Elizabeth Darcy could not have imagined that she would be seeing the insides of Pemberley, the home of Fitzwilliam who was not a favourite person of hers. Nay, it was not a thought that ever prevailed in her mind and she certainly had never imagined being married to its lord and master. Her mind, always so occupied, lively and full of all kinds of endless conversations, had never conceived that she could be looking on all of Pemberley and call it her own.

She sighed. It was a twist of fate which had made her the mistress of Pemberley and nigh two weeks had passed that she became so pronounced in front of the church with close friends and family in attendance, but the title and all its accompaniments were yet to acquaint well to her thoughts.

For the umpteenth time, Elizabeth wondered at her being where she was, on the grounds of Pemberley, wandering

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