The first scene in a series of erotic narratives that are meant to be inserted into the novel "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen. This scene belongs at the end of Chapter 6. Darcy spurned Elizabeth at their initial meeting at the Meryton public ball. He was not impressed at first, but slowly he has begun to admire her. He has now spent four evenings with her in company as he has attended various dinner parties with some of the families in the neighborhood. During a dinner party at Lucas Lodge, Darcy offers to dance with her, and she refuses. This rejection sets in motion an attraction that will grow beyond his control.

When he was alone Darcy reflected further upon the events of that evening. Despite his many repeated denials to Miss Bingley's teasing remarks, he could not dismiss his interest in Miss Elizabeth Bennet as he had claimed. Darcy did not fully comprehend what it was about her that intrigued him so. He attempted further study of this strange sentiment by making a point of venturing near her whenever they were in company together. The best he could conclude respecting her opinion of him was indifference. She only spoke to him when propriety demanded it; and so speaking, returned nothing but curt remarks which he suspected were designed to curtail further comment on his part. She had little talent, and no refined accomplishments that distinguished her among her peers. He allowed that her figure was pleasing, but she was no great beauty. Yet still, there was something about her that he could not ignore.

He watched her with a critical eye as she crossed the room, approaching the spot where he stood conversing with Sir Lucas. She had just concluded a mediocre display at the instrument. One of her younger sisters had taken her place, and though her skill exceeded that of Elizabeth's there was little to be enjoyed in the performance. A group of officers and some of the young ladies were beginning to form a dance. The idea of dancing at an informal party such as this was insupportable. He intended to express this opinion to Sir Lucas when that gentleman interrupted him by calling out to Miss Elizabeth.

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."

Out of politeness Darcy extended a hand, surprised to realize as he did, that he was beginning to anticipate the excitement that the next quarter hour spent engaged with her would afford. But to his utter astonishment she declined. She refused his hand, placing her own behind her back, and claiming she had no intention of dancing. Her face flushed with color as her gaze shifted between the gentlemen, embarrassed by Sir Lucas's implication that that was her design in approaching them. Darcy was taken aback, he could not recall ever being thus refused. His general disdain for dancing stemmed from the accustomed incessant application of young ladies and their over enthusiastic plotting mothers. It had never occurred to him that she would decline.

He stood there so stunned that he was unable to reply to Sir Lucas's remarks as they watched her walk away to join her friend. The opportunity having passed, he found himself mourning its loss.

He wondered what it would have been like to lead her onto the floor. He saw her then, in fancy, smiling at him as they advanced up the set. Losing her as she moved amongst their fellows only to come together to finally face one another. Taking her hand in his, he would acknowledge her with a bow, and she would return a curtsy. Her eyes suddenly flashing up as she raised her gaze from the floor to his face.

Those dark eyes of hers, they were truly captivating. They were beautifully expressive, and above all intelligent. Her gaze was direct. She examined him frankly, and sincerely. She made him inexplicably self conscious in a way he had never felt before. She used no artifice, no coy smiles, or stolen glances that were the usual means employed by those of her sex. Her manner was light and pleasant with those she esteemed, but for Darcy she maintained a cool reserve. What he would give to have her bestow one of those genial smiles upon him.

Darcy rubbed a hand over the growing hardness in his loins, ignoring that stern voice of conscience that reminded him such acts were forbidden. He imagined those eyes, baiting him, staring up at him from beneath hooded lashes. A knowing smile on her lips that was only for him. Fully hard now, he freed himself from his breeches and slowly stroked his cock. He wanted her on her knees. She would have no biting remarks now, she would be eager, compliant, longing only to please him.

He grazed a thumb tenderly over her cheek, cupping her chin as he tilted her head back and surveyed her. The tops of her pale white breasts were exposed above the neckline of her modest evening gown. He watched them rise and fall with each breath. He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip, bidding her to open for him. He slid his thumb into her mouth and stroked the velvety warmth of her tongue. She sucked eagerly, desperate to obey, impatient for his cock. He stroked himself before her, taunting her with his arousal, making her wait for it. Slowly he rubbed his cock against her cheek. She nuzzled her face against his hard length but dared not do more without his command. Finally, he bid her to open, and he gasped when he felt that first little thrill of sensation, as she wrapped her lips around him, taking him in. She sucked his cock, moaning with gratitude as she tasted his skin. Her hand encircled him as her tongue continued to tease. She took him deeper, treating him with slow measured strokes.

He groaned aloud as he imagined the sensation of her lips, her tongue sliding along his length as she worked him with her mouth. He stroked himself firmly, quickening his pace as the fire began to build. He pictured her mouth taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke. His fingers lightly combing through her hair, gently coaxing more from her. The steady flame consumed him, engulfing him until his passion rose to a raging inferno. He fisted her hair in his hands. He held her still and forced himself deeper, pushing into her throat until he could hear her sputtering. He used her, fucking her throat, watching those depthless eyes fill with tears, staring up at him as she choked and gaged on his cock. His breath hitched in his chest, and his member spasmed as he began to peak. His seed poured from him in glorious waves. He groaned in ecstasy as he lost himself, imagining it falling in thick spurts upon her lips and into her waiting mouth.

Far too soon the shame he knew would come overtook him. He closed his eyes against the fierce self-loathing that permeated his soul. Why did he continue to abase himself with these degrading carnal desires? Pitifully touching himself, with no more control than he'd had in his youth. His memory instantly transported him to his father's library. Standing before him with his head down, unable to look the man in his face. He could hear his father's chastisement as he was presented with his soiled bedclothes, the evidence of his wickedness bared to the harsh light of day. Darcy quickly cleaned himself with his handkerchief, then moved to the hearth. He threw the offending article into the flames.

Now he had not only defiled his own body with his sin, but he had dishonored Miss Elizabeth as well. Though her social standing was decidedly inferior to his own, she still deserved the respect owed to a gentleman's daughter. A lady such as she would never submit herself to act as he had imagined. It would never do to think of her in that manner, it was disgraceful to her and to himself. Even more so when he considered that he could never allow himself to entertain any real feeling for her. He thought of Pemberley, his duty, his responsibility to uphold the distinction of his father's name. He could not even begin to imagine what his Aunt Catherine's displeasure would be if he presented Elizabeth to her as his wife. And then, there was the unwholesome prospect of her family.

He recalled Caroline Bingley's mocking comment.

"You will have a charming Mother-in-law indeed."

If Caroline could perceive his interest well enough to tease him, then others might observe it as well. He must put a stop to this fleeting infatuation lest he expose himself.

He resolved to put her out of his mind. He would not allow himself to dishonor either of them with his impure thoughts again.

As always comments and corrections are welcome and appreciated.