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“What do you desire most?” Darcy softly asked as he continued doing what he was doing, relishing her sweet wine. She turned her head to look at him, her cheeks now flushed with more color than they had been only seconds ago.

“I want all of you until I can’t move or breathe,” she murmured, keeping her legs locked to their best advantage. He resumed obliging her in all the best ways. She went wild with her excitement, encouraging him to carry on. At length, Elizabeth threw her head back and began screaming Darcy’s name.

He felt certain he was on the cusp of fulfilling his purpose.

“Are you close, my love?” Darcy asked, his voice a little strained as he continued pleasuring Elizabeth at a quickened pace.

“Oh, yes! Oh, my Fitz⁠—”

His name was cut off as he was enveloped in the intoxicating aftermath of his ministrations. Once Elizabeth’s ripples of pleasure had died down, Darcy slowly made his way to Elizabeth’s side and pulled her into his arms.

“I suppose I should be thanking you or something after what you just did to me,” she said.

Putting a smile on his face, he said, “I will take that as a compliment.” He kissed her lips, then ran his fingers down her cheek to her neck.

“No less than you deserve,” she said softly.

“If only I could have you by my side every night.”

“Every night,” she replied, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

“Merely dreaming of you when you are not here is a paltry substitute.” He ran his finger across her enticing breasts. “My dreams cannot make me nearly so happy as this.”

Darcy leaned down and took one in his mouth, slowly sucking and biting on it while his other hand moved lower and lower. Her hips bucked involuntarily, and he pressed his mouth against her in perfect, slow rhythm in concert with his fingers, which were exploring a familiar and most delectable part of her body. Closing her eyes and letting out soft moans, Elizabeth soon moved back and forth in concert with his efforts.

“Elizabeth,” he murmured, his fingers deftly serving his purposes. “Just enjoy it, my love.”

Darcy began to thrust faster and faster into her as if he had suddenly found his purpose in life. Elizabeth’s body was in perfect tune with his intentions, and he felt a tightening around his fingers. He kissed her lips again, and she moaned into his mouth.

“Oh!” she shouted, and his hips were suddenly against hers. He could feel himself inside her, pleasing her as she held on to him, one hand entangled in his dark hair, the other on his shoulder. He began rhythmically adoring her, holding her still by one hand as the other began massaging her breast. Elizabeth’s head fell back onto his shoulder, and Darcy could feel her entire body trembling as he continued to make love to her. His voice was gasping as he whispered into her ear.

Darcy was building to his crest, and Elizabeth pulled his head down to hers, kissing amid his ardent ministrations. The feeling was intense, and he felt as if he were about to explode.

She pressed her face against his, bit his lip, then tightened her legs around his waist, holding him in place as his efforts became faster and more demanding. Finally, his entire body stiffened, and he let out a roaring explosion deep inside her. Elizabeth’s mouth opened wide as he erupted. Darcy then rested his head on her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I love you, Elizabeth,” he said. He felt himself inside of her still, and as she pulled his head up to kiss him. Darcy gave Elizabeth a lingering kiss on her chin, then her lips, and finally her forehead.

“This has been the best night of my life,” he said, pulling back.

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he echoed. And they both went to sleep.

Thus, the culmination of another night spent dreaming of Elizabeth, so passionate, so incredible, and yet so far from being the real thing.

Chapter 15

Elizabeth now resided at Netherfield for all intents and purposes, for she was there all the time. Longbourn was no longer her home, but then again, neither was Netherfield. Making matters worse, the latter held memories of Mr. Darcy everywhere she looked, a circumstance which undoubtedly added to her sufferings—memories that would not leave her alone, and her heart ached from longing for him.

Her solitary walks in the crisp, dewy park early in the morning were the source of her greatest solace, bolstering her for another day of feigning contentment with the path she had chosen for herself and the uncertainty of where it might lead. Now, more than ever, she relished these moments alone to gather her thoughts before a new day brought its challenges.

Upon returning to the manor house, Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. A carriage similar to the one owned by Mr. Darcy was parked near the front steps. Then, the gentleman himself stepped out of the carriage and accepted his hat and cane from the footman. He darted his eyes from side to side as if looking for someone, and then he rested them on Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy!

The Bingleys had said nothing of the gentleman’s imminent return. Had they conspired to keep the intelligence to themselves? Or would they be as surprised about his arrival as Elizabeth?

Soon enough, he was standing directly before Elizabeth. After they exchanged the usual civilities—a gentlemanly bow by him, a lady-like curtsey by her—Elizabeth tried to hide her surprise by giving him a polite smile, which he returned with one of his own, and asked, “Did you come here from Derbyshire? Did you have a pleasant trip?”