Their eyes could not leave each other.
The fire was burning underneath their skins. The tension surrounding them was nearly palpable. The rain grew a little stronger, the wind a little wilder. But nothing could disturb their eyes connection.
It was too many emotions for Elizabeth; she had to do something, but what. She needed something. She wanted to scream at him; she wanted to hurt him; she wanted to…
Such infuriate man, she wanted to pound on his chest with all her strength. Why was this man making her feel like this, so angry? She usually was more level-headed when people tried to attack her or her family, brushing it off with a wit of her own. But this man, this infuriate man, made her go wild.
For a swift second, he looked at her lips which opened without her thinking of it. His own did the same. He came a little closer to her as his eyes came back to hers. As they came back, she now could see a myriad of emotions in his eyes, anger, lust, hope, love?
In another quick movement, his eyes moved again towards her lips; unconsciously she bit them.
A low groan escaped his mouth as his breath fasten. His eyes became dark with want.
Elizabeth became thrilled with the emotion he showed her. She was the one doing it, not Jane or any of her sister, not even Charlotte. She. For one flitting selfish moment, she felt powerful, but another feeling was invading her heart.
Something that she had not expected nor wanted but was there anyway.
She wanted this; she wanted him, how his lips would feel on hers, on her neck.
What was happening to her, she hated the man with all her might and promised to herself to despise him for all eternity, and now, she wanted him to kiss her.
What was wrong with her!
She tried to remember everything he said about her or her family, but she could see her determination weakening with the darkness of his eyes.
He must have seen something in her eyes for some seconds later, all she could remember was him throwing himself at her, kissing her like there were no tomorrow. One of his hands held her face while the other caressed her back, bringing them very close to each other.
She had never been kissed like that before, well not that she had kissed a lot of men. What happened with James Peever was indeed very different. She was 11, and he was 12. And it happened because of a bet not because she wanted it.
Not like this one.
His tongue caressed hers, which was not to displease her at all, but it all came with quite a surprise. James Peever had tried to kiss her with his tongue, and she had found it quite disgusting, and her 11-year-old self decided that kissing was not something she liked! Even at that age, Elizabeth was already a stubborn young lady.
What surprised her, even more, was how she, in return, was responding. It was like her body, and her mind was of two peoples. Her body seemed to know how to respond, but her mind was in a fog watching from afar.
Her hands had gone mad into his hair, grabbing, pulling. He did not seem to mind, quite the opposite, if she could understand his growling as an approval. She discovered she needed to touch him, one of her hand went inside the back of his jacket, grabbing whatever she could feel underneath, but was disappointed to touch clothes, not his skin. And so went up again to his hair. Grabbing and pulling again to the approval of the gentleman himself.
He had not been in rest himself; his hands roamed her body; they were hot against the fabric. The fire that was inside her before seemed to have spread to her skin. But it was the sort of fire you craved for, as soon as his hands left a particular area she would feel it keenly until they were to return, which was relatively quick.
His mouth left hers rather suddenly; as she was about to complain, his lips found a sensitive spot on her throat that she did not know she had before, and her anger evaporated at each sucking of his mouth.
She moaned at the sensation, how a man deprave of feelings or manner could make her feel so good. She tried to hold on to him as her knees had gone weak. She was hot, out of breath, but she also wanted more of him, more touches, more kisses.
"Elizabeth….. we should…." He managed to breathe between kisses.
"Yes," she moaned.
He ravaged her mouth again. She knew what he said, and he was right, they should stop before anything else happen, but like him, she rebuked the idea to prevent this embrace. It was too good to even think about it.
They kissed like that for sometimes, in every kiss came a new understanding. In each second came a new spot that they had not touched before.
After what seemed ages, he withdrew but not without difficulty; he still kissed her, chastely this time, all over her face.
"We have to stop! I am sorry! I love you! I should not have! Oh dear…" She kissed him to make him stop, and another round of moaning and kisses went. At last, they ceased not by wish but by the need for air. They were both breathing heavily; their forehead was touching. Eyes closed. A smile on their faces.
Outside time passed, the rain fell, the wind blew, but in their little bubble, it was peaceful, everything had stopped.
After some moment, Elizabeth managed to calm herself down, enough to speak.
"If I did not want it, I would have stopped you!"
"No, I… Elizabeth, I have enforced myself on you, and this is not what a gentleman should behave…"
"Stop!" She put one finger on his lips to make him stop again. "You are, sir, quite unaware of a woman's wills if she does not want something let me tell you it usually never ends well for the gentleman who forced himself on the lady in question. Also, I might have many faults, but if there is one thing about me, is that I usually do not deceive anyone. If I do not want something to happen, I make it pretty clear to anyone who will listen."
He laughed at this.
"That is quite true, my love."
Silence followed, Elizabeth thought he was going to kiss her again and well, let say she really wanted it, but he did not. He only allowed his hands to roam on her back, sending waves of warmth as they travelled up and down. It was torture for her; she craved for more; she wanted to taste him again. After a moment where she could see he was not going to kiss her again, she took things at hand.
"Kiss me!"
"What?" He had opened his eyes, and he looked at her, drinking in her.
"Kiss me…. Please!" She begged him, even though she hated herself but she so needed him.
"I do not think it is a good idea!" He said, but she could see he wanted it himself.
"You truly are a disagreeable man!" She pushed him from their embrace, regretting her gesture instantly, but she was angry for some reason she could not fathom as yet. Why did he not want to kiss her? She could see he wanted it too!
"What have I done now?" She turned around, putting her back at him, as she could feel some tears starting to fall from her eyes. She would not cry in front of him. She did not respond as she was sure that as soon as she would speak, her tears would fall from her.
"Oh, Elizabeth, please tell me!" He embraced her from behind, and she could not resist but leant back on him.
"Oh, how much you should hate me!"
"No, please tell me what can I do to ease yourself."
"My sister…"
"I will go to London and talk to Charles, I might lose him for what I have done, but if it can make you happy, then I am happy."
"Thank you, what about…"
"Will you let me speak my truth about him even if it causes you pain?"
"Yes, I will" she turned around and looked right in his eyes. He caressed her face, leaned his forehead on hers, and both closed their eyes for a moment.
"Shall we seat as it is a long story." She agreed, and they both sat on the temple bench, which protected them of the wind and rain. The property was not maintained for when he sat down; he directed her to sit nearly on his lap and her back at him, his arms surrounded her with warmth. She leaned back on him; her head turned on the left to be closer to his chest. His head was over hers, and from time to time, she felt his lips kissing her wet hair.
And it was indeed a long and painful story for both and different reason but still sad, Darcy to relive the painful moment of his life. Elizabeth to discover that she had indeed been a bad judge in the character of both gentlemen.
"And that is all my business with Mr Wickham. If you need any proves as to the truth of this, you may speak to the colonel as he knows as much as Wickham's character, but he is also the second guardian of my sister Georgiana."
Elizabeth mind was overwhelmed. What he had just said must be correct for no gentleman would involve his sister, and with an elopement, if it was not valid. Her practical mind came to that conclusion, Mr Darcy might have behaved rudely and inconsiderate to anyone in Meryton, but he had not been more than that. If she thought about it, Mr Wickham had been a little too hasty in his declaration of Mr Darcy's character. She had known him for just a quarter of an hour when he revealed his misfortune with the gentleman, which should have been a reason to be suspicious of the man. No gentleman would tell his personal story to a stranger.
Oh, she had been a fool, indeed!
"No, I do believe you, and I am truthfully sorry for what I have said to you earlier it was unfair and unkind."
"Please do not blame yourself, Wickham, as deceived many people, including my father."
"I know, but if I had not let my wounded vanity take charge, I would have found out about his lies."
"Whatever do you mean?"
She cringed a little, they had found peace here, and she did not want to damage it further. He made her turn to face him with a gentle touch on her shoulder. She did turn but looked down as if ashamed. He took her chin in his hand and lifted it so they could look at each other. If his eyes were burning with lust before now, they were filled with love. He pressed on with a small smile of his own.
"please tell me what did I ever do to cause you pain?"
"The first ball we meet…"
It was his turn to grimace at the thought, but he did not let her finish.
"Oh! You heard me. Then it is I who should make amend, those words were not the one of a gentleman and to be truthful they were not even true. For as soon as I have made your acquaintance, I found you to be the most beautiful and brilliant woman in all of England, if not the world." She laughed at this.
"Sir, I do think you are taking it too far, being the most beautiful woman of all England it is already quite a task but of the world, it is possibly nonsense."
"I do not think I could ever agree with you on that, my love!"
"Will we ever agree on anything?" She tempted.
"What do you mean?" He looked quite confused.
"I do not know, let say our children name's or which colour we should redecorate our bedchambers!"
"But… Elizabeth, please do not toy with me! Are you…?" Now hope sprinkled in his eyes, his smile widened.
And oh god, this man has dimples.
Elizabeth was quite taken aback by the difference a smile could make on him. It was like he was another man, a happy man. With much joy, she replied.
"Yes, I am."
She giggled quite loudly that even Lydia would have taken offence of it, but it seemed that he did not mind at all for he threw himself at her, kissing her again.