Page 54 of Bitten By Mr. Darcy
She watched, remembering the look of his bare body, remembering the tantalizingness of seeing him hard and eager for her. She wanted to see him again, but—
“You must help me with my clothes,” she interrupted, turning to face the wall. “I cannot reach my buttons so easily as you.”
“Ah, indeed not,” he said in a thick and affected voice. “Let me undress you then, my pretty wife.” He was there, pressing against her, and she could feel that part of him, pressing into her, and she wriggled into it and they both gasped.
His fingers were deft on her buttons, then on loosening her stays, then on pulling everything out of the way. He had her down to nothing but stockings in no time, and he didn’t remove those, just looked her over, his expression destroyed and lost.
His fangs were protruding from his mouth. His hair was hanging in his face, and he was only wearing his waistcoat, unbuttoned, over his half-undone shirt, which showed off a tantalizing sliver of his bare chest. He was panting, his gaze settling on first at the swells of her bosom and then at her hips and then to the place where her stockings met her bare skin.
She let out a tiny noise because it she could feel it through the bond, his mad desire for her, and it was turning her inside out.
He closed in on her, nose against her throat, breathing her in. He dragged the tips of his sharp teeth against her sensitive skin.
She moaned.
He grunted, peeling off his shirt and waistcoat together. “No, no, can’t bite. Look, don’t bite, that’s all.”
You can bite me,she tried to say.
But he was kissing her roughly, his tongue nudging thrills through her entire body.
She clutched his now bare shoulders, making noises against his mouth, muffled pleasure noises.
His mouth left hers and he went down to taste the tips of her breasts. “Someday, I’ll bite you here,” he said, licking the sensitive parts of her, and she cried out at the sensation and the promise. And then he was on his knees, between her thighs, licking her there. “And here,” he groaned. “Someday, I’ll bite you justhere.” He flicked his tongue over the place where her pleasure was concentrated. She gasped. “But,” he said, “no biting today. Just this. Just…” He licked her again, licked the sensitive place, and he started licking her in circles, like he’d done before with his palm.
She fell apart on his tongue rather quickly.
He whispered praise into her slippery sex, saying she was such a sweet and responsive wife, that it was just exactly right for her to enjoy her husband’s mouth on her there, that he was so pleased at how slick she was growing here, that she would need all of that for the way he would be intruding on her soon. “So wet, Lizzy,” he said, raining gentle kisses on the dark hair of her mound. “Such a good wife to get so very wet for me.”
And this sort of talk made her twitch and clench harder, even in the wake of her climax. She was a shivering, moaning mess against the wall.
He stood up and pulled her into his arms, kissed her mouth, and she tasted herself there (and this made her twitch between her thighs also) and then he walked them to the bed and lay her down there.
He stood over her, looking at her body, as he removed his trousers.
She reached out to touch that part of him, that hard part of him, but he stopped her, lifting her hands up above her head and pinning them to the bed as he settled between her thighs. “No, no, Lizzy, I want the first thing I feel to be that lovely wetness you’ve worked up for me, as I slide all the way inside, deep inside, and join us.”
She shuddered. “Please,” she whispered.
“You should not have had to beg for this,” he said, kissing her. “I am sorry. I am such a failure of a husband.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
He was reaching between them, adjusting himself, and she was slippery, and she gasped as his thickness began to slide into her, because it was an intrusion. It was a pleasant one, and he was moving in quite easily, but he was taking up rather a lot of space, and there was a stretch, Lord, he was filling her entirely up, was he not?
She shuddered again.
He bared his fangs again, throwing back his head.
She gasped once more.
His hips jutted into her, piercing her deep inside, and it cut through her, a sensation of sheer and intense pleasure.
She moaned.
He still had his head back, his fangs glinting, and she had to admit he looked dangerous like that, dangerous and wildand untamed. He seized her hips and began to thrust in wild abandon, quickly in and out of her, as if he was a man possessed. He made no noise at all, and he shut his eyes, and he just focused on it, on working himself forcefully in and out of her.
She was making all sorts of strange and unbridled noises, she realized. She sounded like some kind of wounded thing, lost and overtaken.Am I prey?she thought again.
