"We are not yet wed, sir," said Elizabeth in a gentle, yet firm, tone.

It had been five days since their announcement of engagement to the Bennett family. Within a day the entirety of Longbourne were congratulating the young Miss Elizabeth for securing such a match for their family, stating that this would surely open doors to multiple likeable prospects for her siblings. Mrs Bennett was beyond herself, quick to begin planning details of the wedding, including where it would be held. Pemberley was where the ceremony was to take place as it was Mr Darcy's home - and soon to be Miss Elizabeth's home. The entire Bennett family, as well as distant aunts, cousins, and with Charles and Caroline in tow, were soon packed into carriages for the trip to Derbyshire.

However, it soon became clear that Mr Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were the last to arrive at a local Inn of a town they were passing through. Their carriage had been damaged due to a crack in one of the wheels supports, something that was timely to fix, meaning they were now standing in the foyer of the small Inn whilst its occupants slept through the night. An old gentleman had greeted them upon arrival, and he was who Miss Elizabeth was now speaking with.

"I am afraid one room is all I have left, ma'am," the Innkeeper told them for a second time. "Perhaps your soon to be husband can remain down here for the evening? It is already late, only a few hours until sunrise."

"That is acceptable," Darcy interceeded before Miss Elizabeth could speak further. Her eyes flickered towards him in silent annoyance, to which he only gave a small bow of the head, stating, "It is late. I cannot, in good conscious, allow you to remain up for the entirety of the night and then have you travel all day tomorrow. I shall remain down here."

Miss Elizabeth went without complaint, something that Mr Darcy had not been expecting. Her current quiet demeanour has been ongoing ever since the Netherfield Ball. At first Mr Darcy assumed it was due to being overwhelmed by all the gifts, attention and praise she received once the news broke, but as the days went on he began to realise that she was quiet because something was on her mind. He often caught her staring off at nothing, eyes unfocused as her mind wandered. It was a drastic change from the opinionated, quick witted, and easily temperamental woman he had fallen for that very first night they met.

Leaving her to get comfortable in her lodgings, Darcy found himself strolling the quiet grounds of the Inn, not taking notice of which direction he walked. Dawn was still a handful of hours away, and so the small town lay quiet. Afterwards, he found himself standing back in the foyer of the Inn. The lovely gentleman who had checked them in had lain a folded blanket and pillow on one of the wooden chairs in the waiting room. As tiredness eluded Darcy, he decided to slowly meander through the halls of the Inn, making sure to keep his footsteps light lest he wake anyone up.

A thin hallway on the upper level, dark windows hiding the sleeping world outside on one side and two closed doors on the other, is where Darcy first heard movement. Someone was walking back and forth with hurried steps, the soft sound of each foot on the wooden floorboard alerting him that it was a female. Inching closer to the door, Darcy closed his eyes and gave into his other senses, allowing the aromas in the air surrounding him to overwhelm him. Elizabeth's sweet scent mixed with her favourite perfume filled his senses. Darcy snapped a lid on the box the monster inside of him attempted to crawl out of in that moment.

After a light rasp on the door, not wanting to alert the other patrons, he gently opened and peeked inside in time to see Miss Elizabeth freeze. Her brown eyes regarded him with suspicion and barely veiled trepidation. Her luggage was un-opened to the left of the small desk on the far side of the room. How long had she been lost in her own thoughts for? Her travelling dress swas hanging on one of the bedposts, leaving her standing in her undergarments, the thin fabric of her chemise almost see through.

Feeling it was too late to back down, Darcy stepped fully into the room and gave the lady a gentle bow. "Forgive me, but I could hear your anxious pacing from the hallway. I wanted to check that you are alright."

"I am not," she said in a hushed voice.

"Miss-."

"Why did you propose to me, Mr Darcy?" Her tone was tormented, as if the very question had been mulling inside of her mind for some time now. "Was it only to buy my silence? Was it in the hopes that I would one day forgive your transgressions? Your forcefulness or the damages caused? Or was it..."

When it was clear she would not continue her list of accusations, he asked, "'Or was it' what, Miss Elizabeth?"

Stormy brown eyes glared into his own at his less than friendly disposition. "Or was it so that I would be bound to you, with no reason - or say - to decline your advances."

In one swift movement the door to the room was closed, the latch clicking softly into place. Darcy spun on one heel to face Miss Elizabeth, though he made sure to keep the distance between them, not wanting to frighten the lady.

"I recall stating that I would never touch you in such a way without future consent," he reminded her. "My words are a promise that I intend to keep. I did not propose so that I may own you."

"No, you proposed only to make yourself feel better," she snapped back.

"Then why did you accept?"

"I -."

Anger was beginning to creep its way into Darcy's voice when he cut Miss Elizabeth off. "If this is what you truly believe, then why did you agree to the engagement?"

Seemingly caught off guard at the knowledge that Darcy had questions of his own, she fumbled for an answer. "I... There were... It was a better alternative than-."

"Mr Collins?" He sneered the name, not at all fond of the small man who once believed he would be a good match for a woman such as Miss Elizabeth.

"Yes."

"So it would seem, in your mind, that I proposed for my own selfish reasons, however, you accepted as it proved to be a better arrangement than if you were to marry Mr Collins? That, in its entire definition, is selfish."

"It would seem that we lack the most basic thing in an engagement, Mr Darcy," she countered.

Deciding to take a deep breath to relax, knowing that if he continued arguing and adding to his anger the monster inside would win, he humoured her by asking, "What might that be?"

"Trust. I do not know your mind, nor do you know mine." Miss Elizabeth took a single step forward, her shoulders set. "This entire predicament is based on our own selfish reasons and what we stand to gain from one another."

"You could never trust me, Miss Elizabeth, not after what I have taken from you. I do not expect you to ever let down your guard around me; something I will forever be daunted by. If anyone deserves to use this marriage to further their own means, it is you."

At his words, the lady took another step forward, and then another. Her brown eyes softened until they were pools of chocolate, their depth knowing no limit. "That is not the reason I agreed to your proposal. And it was not Mr Collin's abrupt declaration of his affection towards me that decided my hand either."

"Then what-."

"I see something in you - beneath the layers of false pretense you show the world. And I cannot forget the story of your early childhood that was filled with pain, terror, loss and so much more than I can ever hope to comprehend. Whilst this arrangement I find myself in will benefit my entire family, saving them from being in the servitude of my cousin, it was never my intention to choose you because of your wealth and standing alone." A very brief pause before she continued softly. "Have you ever hurt anyone other than myself?"

Light from the few candles scattered about the room flickered in the silence that followed her question, casting dancing shadows in the otherwise still room. There was tension in the air as Darcy pondered the question. Miss Elizabeth had every right to ask such a question; her agreement to the engagement meant that they would soon share the rest of their lives together.

"Once. I recall telling you that I was young when my parents died - my sister younger still." Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth's gaze softened at the mention of his childish age at the time this misfortune befell him. The two held their positions as he went on to answer Miss Elizabeth's question, painting a surreal picture in her mind. "Upon returning to England, I was unable to control the urges of my changing body and mind. Suddenly I could see every thread in the tapestry on the walls, hear bird songs from yards away, smell a home cooked meal in a hearth from a house in the next town over. Everything was different - and yet the same. I was still Fitzwilliam."

"You can hear... Is that why you came to check on me this evening?" She asked gently.

"Yes. No normal person could possibly have heard your footsteps. I was..." Darcy paused, the words to express his feelings suddenly eluding him.

Saving him from his lack of words, Miss Elizabeth gestured and said, "Your story?"

Obliging, Darcy lept back into his retelling of events. "Soon I learnt to hone everything, to not let it overwhelm me, controlling it enough so that I may carry on with some semblance of a normal life. I made a friend in Charles Bingley, our Aunt good friends with his mother. The discovery that I was... something else became known to Charles a few years later when we were teenagers. A house maid had dropped a vase, slicing open her hand in her attempt to pick up the scattered, broken pieces, the deep gash allowing enough blood to flow out for me to smell from the opposite end of the estate." An intake of air was the only indication of worry that Miss Elizabeth allowed for the maid she had never known. "It all happened so fast. I was there - in that room - before I could register what was happening. My mind was no longer my own. All of my senses drowned out the screaming thoughts that tore through my head, shouting at my legs to stop walking forward, for my hands to not grab the lady's arm. I still remember how sickly sweet her blood was as it hit the back of my throat."

"Her blood..." the lady murmured to herself, too low for any normal human to hear, so Darcy ignored it and continued on.

"It was not until Charles caught up with me, sitting on the floor beside the now lifeless maids body, that I had the sense to realise what I had done. He helped me clean myself off, throwing my bloodied clothes into the hearths fire before anyone could see, making sure nothing could be traced back to me. I was thankful for his quick thinking and strong stomach. Together we buried the body on the boarders of my estate, never to speak of her again lest someone question her sudden disappearance. Without Charles's steady presence all these years, and his willingness to forgive what I was, knowing that this way of living was thrust upon me without consent, it has kept me sane. Knowing that there is one person who sees the real me and stands by my side is more than I deserve."

When it became apparent that his story was at its end, the lady moved to sit on the end of the single bed, eyes drawn to the cracks in the floorboards. Darcy remained where he was while Miss Elizabeth gathered her thoughts. The story had been macabre so it was little surprise when the silence dragged on for minutes after the retelling of his early teen years.

"You drank the blood of that maid - just as you did me?" Her whispered voice finally broke through the stillness that had befallen the room.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Darcy's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Had he not just explained how his senses - the need and want to drain every last drop of life from anyone who is so unfortunate as to injure themselves in his presence - overpowered every other thought? "I do not know the monster that has turned me into what I am today, so I have never been able to determine why my body craves blood."

"You've managed to hid amongst society without incident," she pointed out. "If you've gone so long without giving in to your nature, then why now? Why me?"

Miss Elizabeth's reasoning was sound, her mind having clicked all the pieces together swiftly so that she could formulate questions and give correct responses. Her intellect was alluring to Darcy. Yet was she to shy away from their conversation out of fear or unease. She wished to know everything so that she could make an informed decision of her own. It was a most respectful trait.

"It is easy to resist the blood of others, even when they are injured. That time at Longbourn Ball, for instance, when you sliced your hand," he reminded her. Darcy slowly walked over to the window, giving him an excuse not to meet the young lady's eyes as he continued. "Your blood smelt so sweet in a way I cannot explain. But it was not your blood that caused me to begin thinking of you every moment of every day. Your bright eyes, so intelligent and confident, the way in which you faced the world and its prejudice head on, never giving up your beliefs despite ridicule. These are just a few of the reasons I found myself enamoured by you, Miss Elizabeth. All of this was caused by my own stupidity for allowing myself to grow so close to you."

Through Darcy's admittance of his obsessiveness over Miss Elizabeth, she remained still, taking in every word. When she spoke, it was in a soft voice.

"But I was uninjured the night when you..."

This direction of conversation was not something he wished to speak of, but Darcy knew that Miss Elizabeth would not let it drop. Perhaps speaking of hs treacherous actions that night was a way for her mind to come to terms with the events? So he obliged, not allowing himself to spare any details, giving her exactly what she wanted.

"Having you beneath me, succumbing to my every touch, those small sounds you were making, and how you wanted it as much as I did." With one glance at her frozen expression, Darcy correct his statement swiftly by adding, "At least at first." He moved to stand just a few feet away where she was still sitting on the end of the bed. "All of it was too much; my desire and lust allowed the control on my urges to slip. Miss Elizabeth, it was a mistake that I can never take back, but you have my word that it will never happen again."

Ever so softly, with only a few seconds of silence, Miss Elizabeth started talking, fumbling over her words. "So you cannot... I mean, we cannot... Do you believe you will lose control again, Mr Darcy? As you stated, that night I did give you my permission."

"I - why do you ask?" His mind had began racing in different directions, trying to decipher what she was thinking.

Miss Elizabeth's cheeks turned pink, something Darcy's eyes noticed immediately in the low light of the room. The floorboards gave a small groan as she rose to her feet, drawing nearer to where he stood motionless. The perfume of her skin was alluring, and the memory of the tingling sweetness of her blood as it coated his tongue filled Darcy's mind.

She began to speak once their bodies were only a foot apart. "Usually the intimacy comes after marriage, to protect the woman's virtue. Mine is already gone, and with it my innocence." If at all possible, her cheeks grew darker as blood pooled in them. All Darcy could do was remain perfectly still as she continued in her soft voice. "I would be lying to myself if I told you that thinking of that night did not cause me some trepidation, but my body seems to respond separately to my mind. I get hot flushes, as well as carnal desires. Then there is also the matter of my heart, Mr Darcy."

"Your heart?" He repeated in a husky voice, pitched low to match her own.

Not giving him any warning, the young lady reached out to place her palm against his chest, right where his heart was steadily beating. How he wished there were no clothes between their skin. To feel her warmth against his flesh would surely be the most pleasant of feelings. Not wanting to cause her distress if he were to reach for her, curling his fingers over hers, Darcy let her hand linger on his chest, instead watching her face for any indication of fear.

"It beats like a drum whenever you look at me," she admitted. Miss Elizabeth's eyes flickered up to meet Darcy's own and he did not know what she saw written in his expression, but her shoulders squared slightly as confidence washed across her features. "At first I thought it was fear that made me so aware of you whenever we stood in the same room. These last few days on the road, however, gave me ample time to mull it over."

No doubt she could feel the leaps his heart had began taking at hearing her words. "And what did you discover, Miss Elizabeth?"

"It beats in anticipation. Your hands roaming my skin, touching me softly in places whilst firmly holding me in others." Moving slowly, she trailed her fingers down his arm, stopping at his wrist. Darcy allowed her to lift his arm and guide his palm to rest over her own heart, the thin fabric sitting there doing nothing to stop the heat of her skin from warming his hand. "That is why my heart is erratic whenever I lay eyes on you."

It was hard for him to gather his thoughts enough to form a sentence, so it came out slow when he did. "What if I... I do not wish to cause you pain again."

"I believe you - and trust that you will not harm me," was all she said before stepping forward with no warning.

If he hadn't already forced his body to remain frozen, then her sudden actions may have startled him enough to fall back a few steps. Miss Elizabeth had stepped close enough for their bodies to touch and raised herself onto her tippy toes to press their lips together. If Darcy compared the feeling of her skin under his palm to a fire, then this was an explosion. Her too-soft lips yielded to his own as he returned the lustful kiss, noticing all too quickly how she leaned into his touch rather than away from it. Every sense in his body became focused on Miss Elizabeth - something that scared him.

Using the hand that was still between them, Darcy gave a very gentle push against her chest that made their lips part as she stepped back. There was confusion and hurt in her chocolate eyes, so he rushed to speak before she started to believe that he was rejecting her advances.

"Elizabeth...this... we cannot-."

"I wish to know, Mr Darcy, whether my feelings towards you are simply a want from my body or a need from my heart," she explained quickly.

"I-."

Cutting him off again, she said, "You have my permission. Just... don't bite me."

The expression of determination on her face told Darcy that she was telling the truth. Miss Elizabeth wanted him to touch her, wanted him to be close to her, and wished for him to help her with this insane test. Did she truly believe that this would give her the answer to her question? Was her heart so easily swayed that she would make love to a monster? Could he trust himself as much as she seemed to?

Ever so carefully, keeping their eyes locked so that she may see the silent message of acceptance on his face, Darcy drew her back to him. She eagerly reached up to place her hands on his shoulders as their lips once again came together. He controlled the urge to pick her up and throw her onto the bed, instead letting Miss Elizabeth set the pace.

And it would seem that she, too, was just as impatient.

Her fingers tugged at the hair on the nap of his neck as her lips parted, allowing their tongues to intertwine, a soft moan rising from her throat. When she took a step back, and then another, Darcy followed, keeping his hand on her waist in case she tripped over. Miss Elizabeth's legs hit the base of the bed, and that's when she broke their kiss, chest rising heavily with each breath of air.

The soft chemise she wore was stripped off in the next moment, tossed aside to a darkened part of the room. Darcy was spellbound, unmoving, as his eyes lingered across her bare skin, taking in every curve and texture. He didn't allow himself the chance to study her wonderful body the last time they... The sudden onslaught of memories from when he stole her innocence was almost too much to handle.

"Fitzwilliam?" She said his name with such tenderness that he broke from his thoughts, focusing on the way her eyebrows were drawn together in concern. "Do you not wish too...?"

It was clear that she had misread his hesitation as rejection. "I do not wish to hurt you, Elizabeth. If this is too much - if I become too much - I fear you will not be able to escape."

Her response to his inner turmoil was to skip forward a step and give him a soft peck on the lips. "Then don't give me a reason to feel the need to escape you."

Was it really as simple as that? Did Miss Elizabeth fully understand the gravity of what she was saying? What she was allowing him access to? Darcy pondered for a moment if he should simply refuse and walk out into the night. That would surely hurt Miss Elizabeth's feelings, though, and he could not cause her such misery.

So instead of listening to the more reasonable side of his mind, Darcy shoved them aside so that he may have complete focus on the lady standing naked before him. This is what she wanted, and he would ensure that every touch upon her skin was painless. Darcy slowly unbuttoned his own shirt, using the added seconds of stillness it afforded him to make sure that the monster was locked away deep within him. There would be no mistakes tonight.

"Lay down," he muttered softly.

Elizabeth followed his orders, shifting higher on the bed so that the pillow was under her head as she laid back. It was hard to believe that someone with such a delicately small, soft body was so unafraid and defiant. Darcy's weight caused the bed to dip slightly as he moved to hover over her, keeping his hands on either side of her head so that his body did not crush hers. He allowed her a few short breaths more before leaning forward and trapping her mouth with his own.

Their kiss started slow before they both felt the effects of their lust. Elizabeth's arms moved to caress his skin before wrapped around his waist, pulling him down so that their bodies were laced together. Still keeping one arm steadily beside her head so that he didn't crush her lungs, his other hand every so gently moved to rest upon her breast. His thumb ran over the pink tip of her breast, marvelling at how it hardened under his touch. A barely audible gasp left her lips when Darcy caught it between two fingers, teasing it as he continued their kiss.

The strong scent of her arousal hit him hard, and it was extremely difficult for Darcy to remind himself to take it slow, to remain gentle. He would not force himself into her until she gave the signal that she was ready. Elizabeth was trusting him, so he would be the man she needed him to be.

However, there was still other ways of pleasing her. Breaking their kiss, giving her a chance to draw in air, Darcy kept his eyes on her face as he moved himself lower. He stood from the bed, not giving the lady time to object as he grabbed her legs and slid her down to meet him. She giggled a little, the most beautiful sound in the world. Darcy kneeled on the floor, leveraging Elizabeth's legs over his shoulders, shifting her core further towards him.

"What are you - oh!"

Elizabeth's words turned into low moans when Darcy's tongue met the wetness between her legs. The taste was sweet, something he had no expected. Never having done anything like this before, he made sure to be careful, not wanting to accidentally hurt her. When his tongue swept up, bumping into a small nub, her cry of pleasure froze him to the spot. As if discovering an unknown animal, he carefully traced his way back up again, finding the little pink nub sitting above her core. Darcy ran his tongue over it once more and, sure enough, Elizabeth's body reacted. Her hips rose slightly, and Darcy placed his hands on either thigh, holding her still as he experimented.

She was stronger than he looked, with Darcy having to put in an effort to keep her legs still as his tongue played with the sensitive area. At one point he gave the little ball a suck, nearly losing his hold on Elizabeth as she bucked her hips. It was another few minutes before he was finished pleasing her, the loud cries coming from her like music to his ears. Elizabeth had reached her climax then, the muscles in her legs and core tightening before fresh wetness covered his tongue and she slumped onto the bed.

There was only a brief window for her to catch her breath before Darcy was above her once more, moving her so that she was once again comfortably positioned with her head on the pillows. His lips crushed into hers with little concern about whether she had enough air in her lungs. His entire body was tingling with anticipating, the sweet taste of her core still in his mouth. A part of Darcy's mind told him he was being too forceful and not taking enough care, but he refused to listen, giving in to the most carnal urges.

When Elizabeth's hands moved between them, giving his chest a small push, he reacted by trapping her wrists with one of his hands to pin above her head. His other hand found the tip of her breast again and he squeezed it hard enough that she gasped in pain. That small sound broke through whatever trance had befallen him, and Darcy broke away from her. Releasing her wrists, he remained hovering above her, though gave her enough space to breathe.

Tormented by the prospect that he had almost lost control, Darcy whispered, "Elizabeth, are you alright? I am-."

"No, no. Don't be sorry. I am fine." Though her words were spoken softly, he could hear the slight edge of fear in her tone.

He knew that their intimacy had come to an end. Darcy's own body was no excited at the prospect of feeling Elizabeth's naked skin pressed against his own, not if it meant losing control and harming her. Seemingly aware of this, the young lady moved to sit up, dragging the quilt up to cover her exposed chest. Darcy hesitated at the end of the bed for a single moment before grabbing her forgotten nightgown and silently handing it to her.

"Mr Darcy," she started, returning to formalities, "will you stay with me?"

"I do not believe that would be a good idea," was all he replied whilst buttoning his own shirt.

"No-one will-."

His voice came out low and he was unable to hide the anger that course through his body - anger at himself. "I was so close to hurting you. Don't you see that? For a moment I... It was all too much, Miss Elizabeth."

"But you did not."

"I never should have allowed myself to get that close to you," he told her in honesty.

An expression flitted across her face for a brief moment, and if Darcy had to describe it, he would say she was hurt by his words. They were true, though, and so he would not take them back. He could have easily hurt her in that short time his control slipped, sunk his teeth deep into her delicate skin to taste the richness of her very life that lay beneath. No matter the level of trust she claimed to instill in him, part of Darcy believed he would never be able to draw close to her without placing her in danger.

"Stay with me?" She asked again.

Unable to refuse her for a second time, hearing the sadness creeping into her tone, he sighed and moved to the side of the bed. Miss Elizabeth shifted over so he had enough room to lay down beside her, the frame of his body taking up most of the single bed. She waited until his head was on the pillow before moving back to his side to carefully rest her head on his chest. Darcy moved his arm under her head so he could draw her closer into his side, seeing this as a perfectly safe action.

"It is still a few hours until dawn," he muttered against the top of her hair, giving her a gentle kiss and breathing in her scent. "Try to get some rest."

Snuggling in closer to his side, her small body tangling with his, Miss Elizabeth fell into a deep slumber. He found himself stroking her bare back, marvelling at the softness of her skin. She hadn't put her nightgown back on and he was afraid she would catch a chill. Ever so carefully he leaned over her sleeping body to pull the quilt up to her shoulders, giving her a another kiss to the head before laying down to stare at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.