For Debra Anne!
***
"I thank you for this piece of civility,” Elizabeth placed her hand on Mr. Darcy’s arm.
He nodded, not saying a word. They started walking, slowly, into the woods of Rosings.
The silence was grating on her nerves. “The Easter sermon was, reasonable.” she decided that making him speak would be a punishment, for his boorish countenance.
“I know not, I confess.”
She arched her eyebrows. “That is uncharitable, at least to the preparation by Mr. Collins. Easter is an important and busy time, for my cousin.”
He frowned and picked up his pace, suddenly, until they reached deep into the woods.
“Why such haste, Sir?” Elizabeth caught her breath.
Without warning, Mr. Darcy turned and pressed her against the trunk of an ancient oak. “My feelings cannot be repressed any longer. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Lowering his head, he possessed her lips with a long and hot kiss.
When he finally stopped for air, Elizabeth stared, coloured and panted hard. Before she could utter a word, he pulled the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders.
“Mr. Darcy, I did not…” She protested.
He did not hear her. His mouth was engaged in worshipping the newly exposed creamy skin. His tongue licked her nipples, one after the other, to peaks, before sucking them like a hungry babe.
She moaned and squirmed. “We cannot…Mr. Darcy…” Mumbling, as she was biting her lips, trying to suppress her response. Her hands grabbed his hair for support, as her legs wobbled.
“We must.” Raising his head from her gorgeous breasts, he gazed at her half-closed eyes. He then hiked her hem and caressed her thighs, with a great urgency. His fingers found her core soon. She was wet and welcoming. With shaky hands, he unbuttoned his breeches and placed her legs around his waist.
“Your manner…” Her reproach was cut short, by her own scream as Mr. Darcy pushed into her, right to the hilt. He was hard and big, invading every pores of her skin.
Gripping his shoulders, she received his fervent adoration. His mouth fed on her creamy mounds, his hands rubbing her buttocks as his potent manhood grating her inner muscles with frantic pounding.
She moaned.
She groaned.
And she screamed, until her voice was hoarse.
After an eternity, she finally trembled as she reached her peak. Only then did he let out a grunt, thrust his tip deep into her, shivered and convulsed as he spilled his seed into her warmth.
“Why such haste, Sir?” Still panting hard, she asked again.
“I need to erase the memory of my horrible proposal, five year earlier,” He pressed his face to hers, whispered. “with a better image.”
She looked at the vision before her. Mr. Darcy was resting on her breasts now. His noble face against the red marks of love bites on her bosom. Their bodies were still connected. Her bare thighs wrapped around his naked hips. She shook her head.
“What?” He frowned.
“I do not think that your late aunt would approve. How we polluted the shades of Rosings”
“But I approve, Mrs. Darcy, I approve very much. This is a much better Easter tour of the park, for me.”
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