Mr. Darcy uncurled her fingers off the shaft of the riding crop and kissed her palm. His rod was straining in his breeches, nearly too painful to move, but it was too soon to spring his cock free. Her pleasure needed to come first before him, as much as he longed to join the two of them as one.

He slid the crop slowly up and down between her thighs, pushing down and pressing it slightly into her quim. She shivered with excitement and parted her lips, breathing heavily. Mr. Darcy smiled, enjoying the sight of her experiencing this pleasure for the first time. The fabric of her dress rustled as he moved the crop up and down her folds, each time pressing the tip just a little farther.

She gasped and grabbed his arm. To stop him, or out of surprise he did not know, but he did not give her a chance to stop. He nuzzled her neck, planting kisses on her sweet skin up to her jaw, then captured her pliant lips with his. He could not think straight, finally having Elizabeth Bennet in his dungeon, willing to explore.

Her hips rocked back and forth as he played with her mound, sliding his hand from side to side across it as she trembled, leaning against him.

"You are so beautiful." He ran his hands down her body until he was cupping her bottom. "We have too many clothes on."

He cupped her breasts, his thumbs running circles around the nipples as they hardened under his touch.

"I..am not willing to remove my dress," she panted. "It is the middle of the day as well."

He chuckled at her naivete. "Men and women have relations in the daytime and night."

"No, I do not want to copulate, Mr. Darcy. I cannot ruin my reputation by increasing with child."

His disappointment was acute, but there was much they could enjoy without risking it all. "Let me show you more pleasure that I can give you with the crop."

Mr. Darcy stepped back and flicked her nipple. She jumped and raised her hands, but he pushed them aside. "No, revel in the feeling, close your eyes."

He trailed it down her stomach, trying to control his breathing, as he moved the implement closer to her hips, to the dip between her thighs. Softly, he tapped her mound.

Her big brown eyes opened wide as he smacked her again. Her lips parted, and she grasped his arm. "Oh." Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her body relaxed against his chest.

It was awkward positioning, so he moved the crop down and tapped up at her quim.

Soft feminine moans escaped her lips. "What is that?"

Again and again he snapped the riding crop on her most sensitive place. He whipped her pussy up and down until she hovered on the edge of climax. Mr. Darcy dropped his now favorite toy to hold her up as she orgasmed.

He nuzzled her neck and whispered in her ear. "That is a riding crop."

"That is not a crop. It is a torture instrument."

He chuckled. "You did not think that when I was stimulating you with it."

"I could not think past my need." She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. "I have this...yearning, want for... something in my body. But my mind is telling me not to go beyond what is proper."

"And what is proper, Miss Bennet? Only you and I will know and we can decide for ourselves."

Elizabeth looked into his eyes and he could see the conflict on her face. It was almost as if she wanted to refuse and yet at the same time continue.

"Please, I want to make you feel good. Let me show you more of what I can do."

She hesitated, as if weighing her options, but he knew he had her. He was not sure if she knew it, but she was his. His need to be inside her assailed him, making his heart pound and his cock throb with desire. Her body tempted him with her hard nipples and flushed cheeks.

"But what about your pleasure? Do you use the riding crop on yourself?"

"No, the logistics are awkward."

"I will help you. It is not fair that I am the only one to receive an enlightenment of the senses."

Mr. Darcy picked up the crop and ran his hand along the supple leather. "I am sure you have been wanting to use this on me."

Her cheeks flushed, and he saw a smile tugging at her lips. "I have."

"And here is your chance, Miss Bennet," he said.

"You want me to smack your bottom?"

"If you like."

He forced himself to stand still, his back straight, his shoulders squared as she walked around behind him. Then he jumped and yelped as she slapped him on the buttocks. "Too hard. You need to strike me lighter."

Clenching his fists so he did not rub his cheek, he waited, hoping she would not hit too strongly again. There was an art to bring pleasure instead of pain, and she was not quite there yet. and he feared she would not learn it before he ended up with several bruises.

He tried to appear relaxed, even though his heart was pounding and his erect cock was begging for attention.

The second smack landed on his rear with less force, but still stung. The third flicked his bottom with the tip of the crop. And the fourth...he flinched at the gentle touch. Elizabeth was learning quickly. It was all he could do not to grab her hands and press her to his erection. His need was that great.

"You are teasing me, Miss Bennet."

His cock was full and jutting out inside his breeches. He did not want to get it out, he would be too tempted to have relations with her and he wanted to draw out the torture of holding back his release, to savor every moment.

She smacked the crop against his buttocks, varying the intensity and location until he thought he would explode with the urge to have her. He was panting and sweaty, his body aching for release. Mr. Darcy groaned. "I need to finish."

He unbuttoned his breeches and pulled out his cock, squeezing it, rubbing his thumb over the leaking tip. "Now, Miss Bennet, I need you to use the crop."

A light tap on his buttocks, then he heard a gasp as she walked around to his front. His rod jumped at the sight of her staring as he rubbed it. What he wanted, he did not know if she would do, but they were far past propriety and embarrassment. He grabbed her hand and placed it on his hard prick. "Please, rub me."

He could see the want in her eyes, the need to please. She wanted to give him what he needed, to make him happy. She wrapped her hand around him and squeezed. As he groaned, she looked at him, her gaze steady. Her hands felt soft and sensual on his rod, but the sting was what he wanted.

"I need the crop, Miss Bennet."

She let go of his rod and he immediately regretted his order. Her hand on his prick had been sublime. But then she held the riding crop against his length. He closed his eyes and braced himself. It landed on his cock with a pleasant sting. It throbbed, his balls ached, and he shuddered.

Mr. Darcy moaned at the next stinging blow of the riding crop on his rod that strained upwards. Her hand slowly caressed his shaft as it bobbed at her touch.

"Harder, please harder," he begged.

Smack! This time Elizabeth hit hard, and he groaned. The pain was delicious. It was hard to breathe as she smacked him again and again. His cock was aflame, a sheen of sweat covering it, and finally he exploded, his release spurting out of him coating the stone floor. He fell to his knees before her, panting, his eyes closed. "Oh, Miss Bennet."

Mr. Darcy leaned forward on his hands at her feet, which was fitting, as in his mind she was a goddess. In the clarity of his thoughts, he realized he had been blessed beyond measure. The woman of his dreams, his desire, enjoyed his secret.

His heart caught in his throat as he looked up at Elizabeth. "I want you," he said, his voice quavering. "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Her eyes widened, her lips parted as she took a shaky breath. But she did not speak, and he was loath to hear her refusal. Yes, he had to know.

"Elizabeth, I want you to be my wife, please say you will."

She looked down at him, her mouth trembling. He reached up and pulled her down to him, kissing her.

She leaned back and gazed into his eyes. "Yes, yes, I will marry you."