What if Darcy was an immortal? What if Mr. Darcy had certain urges? What if Elizabeth professed her feelings to Mr. Darcy first? What if Elizabeth was rumoured to be in love with Mr. Wickham? What if Mr. Darcy’s dead parents intervened? This collection of over 20 short stories contains sexy, over-the-top "pick-me-up" stories across the historical, fantasy and modern genres. They are not for the faint-hearted.
Excerpt
Three Rumbles for the Third Ramble
More than twice, in her ramble within the park, Elizabeth unexpectedly encountered Mr. Darcy. He never said a great deal but, on the occasion of their third rencontre, he seemed dead set against silence.
“Madam, you are an early riser.”
“Sir, the same seems true of you, today.”
“May I have the honour of accompanying you on your ramble?”
“As you wish.”
“You have now been here for nearly two weeks. Do you find the estate and grounds to your liking?”
“I find the estate grand and luxuriantly furnished. The grounds are a bit on the formal side for my taste. I confess that I prefer untamed beauty to calculated displays of nature.”
“Untamed beauty! I, too, find I am more enchanted by natural handsomeness than splendours which are a result of man-made enhancement.” He turned his head to gaze at her. Some of her lovely curls escaped from the bonnet, framing the rosy cheeks and creamy skin. How I long to caress her cheeks and lips!
“Sir, you are very wise! Nature transcends time, while man-made wonders become dilapidated all too easily.”
“Well said, madam!” He paused for a moment, then continued, “And tell me, pray, what prompts your love of solitary walks?”
A mischievous smile graced her face. “The reasons I favour of solitary walks are many. I lack the patience to wait for some lazy late-riser to accompany me. I have no energy to spare for rushing my strides to match some tall person's company. And I have no use for idle conversation. As a result, solitary walks suit me very well indeed.”
Mr. Darcy frowned. Does she not enjoy my company? “But there are many advantages in the company of two. Have you not observed the connubial felicity possible within a happy marriage?”
“I confess that the unions I observe have shown a different tendency.”
“How so?”
“I see more couples who were only brought together because their passion was stronger than their virtue.”
“Madam, I will have you known that passion is the food of love!” He turned and embraced her, pressing her body tightly to his, then kissed her with passion and conviction.
Elizabeth was taken unawares by both the invasion of his strong tongue into her mouth and the press of his hard muscles against her body. Sweet sensations cruised from her mouth to every part of her body. She clung to his arms and yielded helplessly to his ardour.
After endless moments, she felt him lower her onto the grass.
“Sir! This is broad daylight in public ground.”
“Do not be alarmed! I have taken you to my childhood hideaway. This glen has long been my favourite secret haunt, and I have never come across anyone here before.”
She looked around and noticed, for the first time, that they were in fact in a deeply secluded glen, far from the park where she had begun her rambling. She would have no idea that, in her reverie, she had become so sidetracked.
He pressed her onto the grass, unfasten her bonnet and began to do the same with her Spencer.
“Mr. Darcy, we cannot do this! It is most improper. People will notice the state of my clothing when we return.”
“I know all the secret passages in the buildings. I can bring you back to your bedchamber without anyone seeing you. And it cannot be improper for a man ardently in love to show his affection. Let me teach you the meaning of passion!”
He lowered his head to lave her earlobe, her cheek, her jaw. His hands busily eased the dress off her shoulders, exposing her creamy, ripe breasts. He rubbed her nipples with keen attention before lowering his mouth to suckle them in turn.
Elizabeth gasped, and a stream of warmth flew toward her womanhood. She squirmed and moaned out loud, and her hands moved to his head, where her fingers tore at his hair. She said in a breathless voice, “Ardently… in love? But you… said nothing of it…in our… last two rambles. I have…objections to this mode… of a declaration.”
“What is …” Mr. Darcy drew her skirts up to her waist, and slipped his hand to caress the core of her womanhood, “wrong with my mode of declaration?” A wicked smile appeared on his face, and he said, “Little Lizzy seems to welcome my fingers quite eagerly! Indeed, she expresses no objection at all.”
Elizabeth thrashed her head from side to side. His fingers wreaked havoc upon her breasts and secret valley. But she was determined to chasten him. “Mr. Darcy, you have …behaved in the most… rakish manner! You… lured me to this secluded location in order… to seduce me.”
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