Changed my story title based on a line in this chapter I particularly liked! Please review if you enjoyed this, or if ya didn't!
.x.
She had imagined his apartment to be a rather ostentatious penthouse in the middle of the city, and it was but it wasn't. On the elevator ride to his penthouse suite, Lizzie couldn't help but think about what they'd done in the elevator at Pemberley less than an hour before, and a smirk crossed both their lips as she squeezed his hand.
It was crazy to think that she had, at one point, hated this man. The past few weeks had shown her another side to him completely. Whereas before she had seen him as only cruel and condescending, now she realized that Darcy was sweet and considerate, if a bit socially awkward. And apparently he knew a thing or two about sex. Or at least elevator sex.
When they reached his apartment, Lizzie was amazed that they could simply punch a code into a keypad and step out of the elevator and into a real live home. Darcy led her through the small, elegantly decorated parlor and then into the spare hall with its parquet flooring before they entered the very sleek and modern kitchen, where he sat her at a kitchen barstool before opening up the freezer and pulling out a box of pizza. "I'm actually," he assured her while preheating the oven, "a half decent cook, and as much as I'd love to impress you with my culinary prowess, I think that I'll stick with the basics today."
"If by the basics you mean setting the oven to 350 and then waiting for a few minutes," Lizzie quipped. Darcy was rummaging about in the refrigerator now, and he turned around briefly to give her a challenging look in reply. "If pizza isn't to your taste, Miss Bennet, we can always go out."
For some reason, the idea of leaving the apartment did not appeal to Lizzie. Though his use of her last name, sounding nothing like Ricky Collins's use of it, made her giggle while sending a shiver up her spine at the same time.
He sat down beside her at the island counter, sliding a wine glass before both of them before motioning to her with the bottle. She nodded and he poured out two glasses of white wine. "I'm fairly certain you're supposed to have red with pizza," he explained, "but Gigi was just here, and occasionally I'll allow her to have a glass of wine with dinner. She detests reds."
Lizzie raised an eyebrow at the way Darcy acted as if giving his barely underage sister a glass of wine with dinner was a scandal. He definitely knew her sister Lydia had done way worse during her underage years. Before taking a sip, Lizzie raised her glass. "To new beginnings and first impressions," she said, and Darcy met her eye with as straight a face as possible before they each clinked glasses and took a long, smooth sip.
It was an amiable dinner, with lots of conversation. They kept sitting at the bar, talking and drinking wine, long after they'd finished, discussing everything from their childhoods to literature to current events. Lizzie was surprised by how little she actually knew about Darcy, like if he'd ever owned a pet and what his favorite sports were and how he'd come to inherit Pemberley. She didn't want to push about the death of his parents just now, though, and so they stuck to talk about baseball in the meantime.
Eventually, conversation ran slightly dry, or perhaps the bottle did. They moved to the living room with Darcy's big screen TV and started flipping through Netflix, trying to find something to watch. Lizzie wondered if this slight move into awkwardness was supposed to be her cue to leave. I have to water the fern, she thought of saying. That was really her only duty at the house she was staying at.
"You know," Darcy said, focusing on the television rather than on her, "I really didn't think this would ever happen. Even when I couldn't give up on you, I felt like a fool for it. I felt stupid. I had these fantasies of bringing you back here, but I always thought it was just that, a fantasy." He leaned back against the couch now and gazed at her almost dreamily. "And I even feel like that now, like it's too good to be true."
His words pained her. She'd harbored one-sided crushes before, but never anything as intense as his feelings, at least not unrequited. She couldn't tell him she loved him just yet. It was too soon for her. She thought she might, but there was a difference between thinking one was in love and knowing one was. "I'm here," she assured him instead, placing a hand on his to prove that she wasn't just some apparition from his imagination. "I'm real." She paused, bit her lip. "And, ah, I like you too. Like, a lot."
She was worried that he'd be upset that her feelings weren't quite as intense, but he didn't seem to be. In fact, Darcy seemed rather pleased to hear this bit of news, and he leaned in to kiss her for the first time since they'd left the elevator.
Lizzie pulled back from the kiss first and smiled at Darcy. This whole evening was turning out to be perfect in ways she'd never imagined. She'd never thought it possible that she would be here, with him, like this. Maybe once or twice she'd fantasized about it, but now for it all to come to fruition? After all of these months of hatred and frustration? Well, it would be nice, if not perfect, to spend a night in Darcy's apartment watching movies on Netflix and chatting.
Apparently, though, that was now what Darcy wanted at all. And Lizzie was not about to complain.
He leaned in to kiss her again, passionately this time, and she knew immediately that again this would be a point of no return. Was there any use prolonging it? The moment he kissed her again she felt just how much she needed him and so much like lightning, desire shot through her, hot and urgent. She kissed him back passionately, sucking his tongue into her mouth, sitting astride him and grinding against him, feeling his erection pressing through his pants and against her panties, already damp from their earlier escapades and her growing excitement.
He pulled away for a moment, marveling at the sight of her bandage skirt, an office-appropriate length, now ridden up high and tight against her thighs. He massaged them while kissing her again, teeth clashing at first, but there wasn't even time to laugh about this. Apparently the elevator had not been enough to release months of pent up passion.
She thought that everything might happen there and then, on the soft suede couch, Darcy's Netflix cue casting them in a soft white glow. And he thought the same, too, but realized what was happening and pulled apart from their kiss, still languidly stroking Lizzie's thighs. "Come to bed with me," he whispered. "Let me show you how I really imagined it, all these months."
All these months. His words sent another jolt through her, and at once she felt she might melt then and there if she didn't join him in the bedroom, yet on the other hand she felt so guilty about not caring for him until now, so strange about how quickly (slowly, for him) this was all happening. "Okay," she managed to croak out before he helped her up and took her hand with an enticingly boyish smile.
The walk to the bedroom felt so slow. They passed through another hall and then there they were. It was a simple affair – a dresser, a rug, a nightstand, a bookshelf, a closet, a large window with amazing nighttime scenery, though he moved to shut the drapes, letting go of her hand to cross the room. And then, in the center of the room: the bed.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Darcy quipped, messing around with the lamp by his bedside so that the lighting was dimmed, "but I don't have the family crest above my bed. I'm not sure if we even have one, come to think of it," he said with a musing expression that sent Lizzie's heart aflutter. How could he be so damn cute? How had she never noticed it before? "And it doesn't say 'Vanity & Pride' either."
Lizzie threw a hand over her mouth and then rubbed her forehead, unable to look Darcy in the eye. "Oh, God, did I say that?" She raised her eyes to his after a beat. He was smirking. "I did, didn't I?"
He shook his head apologetically and crossed the room, taking her into his arms and locking his fingers against the small of her back. "You didn't say anything I didn't deserve, I assure you." He kissed her chastely before gazing into her eyes. "I've tried to much harder since I saw those videos. It made me a better person."
And he'd made her a better person too, hadn't he? Perhaps it had been her struggle with Lydia that really made her realize how judgmental she really was, but Lizzie had learned that there was more than there seemed, always. She had learned that even if a person held all the appearances of charm, they might not really be a great person. She had learned that Darcy, deep down and not so deep down, was a good man.
And a fucking great kisser, she added with a little nod and smile to herself. Darcy noticed her grin. "Why are you smiling?" he asked gently.
"I'm just…happy," Lizzie admitted, and then she kissed him, eager to find out exactly what he had had in mind all these months.
While kissing, he maneuvered them to the queen-sized bed so that they sat perched on the end. It wasn't long before he had Lizzie lying down on her back, though, and she admired how soft the comforter felt against her back. He removed her shoes, and she remembered the way one had fallen onto the floor in the elevator earlier and shivered at the realization that this was just a continuation of that moment, a sensual release after such a passionate encounter. Next, he slowly lifted her hips off the bed to remove her skirt, and she enjoyed how long he took to pull it off, how he caressed her legs the entire way down.
It was her shirt next, a simple button-down affair. She sat up next to remove it but he shook his head. "No," he said, "let me." But this time, the reverent nature of his task was lost on her. She was anxious to feel his skin on hers like she hadn't been able to in the elevator, and she interrupted his slow task of unbuttoning her blouse to yank off his bow tie and move to his own buttons. Darcy moved his hand to stop hers, holding it against his chest. "Eager now, are we?" he asked her in a slightly mocking tone.
Lizzie realized that she was blushing, and glared at him. "Fine, but at least take your shirt off, too. I'm not sitting here in a state of undress alone."
Darcy smirked and dropped her hand to oblige, pulling off his own, and the undershirt, before finishing with her buttons. This time his pace was quicker, but Lizzie barely noticed. She reached out her hands to smooth over his arms. Darcy wasn't exactly a George Wickham when it came to physique, but that didn't mean he wasn't something to admire. A sudden silly desire to lean forward and lap at his abdominal region overtook her, but she held back and simply lay back down once her top was removed.
She was self-conscious about what came next. Not the removal of the underwear, necessarily, since that was going to have to happen. But Lizzie was small-chested and she'd been teased about it many times growing up, and she was really hoping he wasn't going to take off her bra just yet. She was too busy staring at the ceiling and worrying about this to notice that Darcy had removed the white silk panties and was now looming over her. She let out a sharp cry of surprise when she felt his finger sink into her, and then a moan of pleasure as the feeling overtook her. He sank another finger inside, using the pad of his thumb to gently stimulate her clit as he did so. Her head thrust back against the bed as he increased his pressure and dove his fingers in deeper, lightly motioning in just the right away against her front wall. She felt like she was close, so close, and so she let out a groan of frustration when he felt it too and pulled his fingers away.
He sat up then and she leaned up on her elbows, certain that he was up to some cruel game. Is that what this is? I was a bitch for a few months, and somewhat rightfully so, so now he's going to play the orgasm denial game? He saw the hurt look on her face and crawled over to kiss her on her lips. Immediately she relaxed and pulled him to her so that she could feel the glorious feeling of his skin on her own. She even quickly pushed him back to yank off her bra and throw it aside and then pulled him back, relishing in the feeling of having him pressed so close, but he pulled back, causing her to yell out another cry of frustration. "Please!"
He smiled and kissed her lips, groaning against her as he took her bottom lip between his teeth. "Trust me, Lizzie," he murmured to her. "As much as I want to fulfill your every desire, there's something else I want to do first."
He moved down to kiss her neck, then her collarbone, sucking on it and lavishing it with his tongue. Next were her breasts, and he admired both at once, licking one nipple before taking it into his mouth while simultaneously kneading her other breast, and then switching. He removed his hand but kept his mouth on her, nipping her lightly so that she cried out before admiring the swell where her breasts ended, using his hand to stroke her thighs and another to clutch her bottom. When he reached her belly, he surprised her again by sinking his fingers deep inside her, and she was lost in the sensation of it all. "God, you're so wet," he whispered against her skin as he kissed his way across her hips, saving a soft bite for her left hipbone.
She knew what was coming next, but gasped all the same when he removed his fingers and used his tongue on her, lapping at her while stimulating her with this thumb. The sensation was so perfect, so heavenly, and while she didn't want him ever to stop, it also filled her with an incredible, desperate longing to have him inside her, all of him. It wasn't long before she brought him to the edge, and she did not hear the noises she made when she came, her back arching up, her hips rising to meet him.
He trailed urgent kisses up her skin while the aftershocks took her, but she pushed him up and urgently removed his belt, his pants, then lay back down, knowing that now he would not toy with her. He was certain to want this even more than she did now, and so she pulled him down to her by his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his, cupped her hands to his ass, pulled him inside her desperately. He let out a soft gasp as if this was the first time, as if they had not passionately fucked in the elevator just a few hours ago, and now he was moving inside her, all slow sensual rhythm that she matched beat for beat, lifting her hips to his. She was lost in the feel of him, of his skin, of him inside her.
She realized, then, that they'd forgotten the condom, and he must have too. His eyes were shut, and she heard him say, "I'm gonna come" before he wrapped a hand around himself and moved to pull out, but she stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, realizing just how much she wanted to feel him finish inside her.
"It's fine," she whispered, breathless. "I'm… I'm fine, and I'm on the pill. I trust you."
"Are you sure?" he checked, and she nodded and he said, "You'd better be, because God I can't hold back much longer." And with a few more thrusts he came undone, and at the sensation of him throbbing inside her she did as well, and they lay there, spent, for some time.
.x.
Hah! Had to let Lizzie make a "poor sexual decision" in the name of almost love and horniness. Just thought it would be interesting to see her lose her head, knowing she's not always pleased by others' bad or rash decisions. (Though it won't be a bad decision in the long run, don't worry. No STDs. Or babies – in this story, that is.)
Anyway! Please review! I love reviews! And guess what? I could totally write more smutty chapters about Lizzie and Darcy being romantic and getting it on all weekend if ya want. If you're down to read more, let me know!