Page 42 of Love Drunk for Mr Darcy

He noticed and looked stricken. "Forgive me. That was too plain."

"No," she said quickly. "I think the plain honest truth is what we need at this moment."

Darcy looked at her for a long moment. His eyes were dark in the candlelight and she could see his pulse thrumming at his throat. The heat from his hands on hers radiated through her and she leaned towards him, unable to bear any distance between them.

"What would you have me do, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth?" His voice had dropped to a murmur, a low rumble that seemed to travel through every sinew of her body.

Elizabeth tightened her fingers around his. "I think, William, that I would very much like you to stop being my friend."

Something seemed to snap within him at the use of his name and he pulled her to him, his mouth meeting hers with ferocious intensity. There was no misunderstanding or caution now, only an overflow of everything that had built between them since that night in Lady Catherine's wine cellar. His mouth burned over hers and she met him hungrily, eager for the taste of him and the feel of his arms around her. When he finally drew back, both of them were breathing hard. Darcy rested his forehead against hers, a smile beginning at the corner of his mouth. "Still friends?"

Elizabeth opened her eyes and gave him a look. "Never," she breathed.

He stood, pulling her to her feet with a laugh before sweeping her into his arms. Elizabeth gave a startled little cry and caught at his shoulders, but Darcy only held her closer, burying his face in her hair and breathing deeply. "The scent of you is intoxicating, my love," he murmured.

His lips found the place beneath her ear and moved slowly down the side of her neck. Elizabeth tipped her head without thinking, giving him greater access, and his hand spread warmly across the small of her back as he kissed the delicate hollow above her collarbone. She gasped and felt his smile against her skin.

"Mr Pemberley," she whispered, somewhat breathlessly. "I believe you are taking liberties."

She felt him smile against her skin, while continuing the trail of fire back up her neck before taking her mouth in his. He pulled back and brushed a loose curl from her face, drinking in the sight of her before commanding, "Turn around, Elizabeth," in his best Master of Pemberley voice. It should have been vexing, but it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine and she complied.

Darcy moved behind her and reached for the pins in her hair. The first came free with a gentle tug, then another, his fingertips occasionally brushing her scalp as he worked. Elizabeth closed her eyes. There was something wonderfully intimate in standing quietly while he dismantled the careful arrangement her maid had spent so long creating. One by one the pins landed upon the small table beside them until the weight of her hair began to loosen and thick curls tumbled down her back.

His hands slid into her hair, spreading it between his fingers before gathering it together and letting it fall again. "I have wanted to do this since Netherfield." He buried his face in its mass before letting it loose once more.

Elizabeth turned her head enough to look at him over her shoulder. "You have been thinking about taking down my hair since Netherfield?"

"Among other things."

"Mr Darcy, you are quite the romantic," she said teasingly.

"William," he corrected, bending to kiss her shoulder. His arms slipped around her waist and drew her back against him, his cheek brushing hers. For several seconds neither of them spoke. Elizabeth rested her hands over his where they were clasped at her middle and felt a bone-deep contentment she had never known.

She turned in his embrace and touched his face, running her fingers over the roughness beginning to shadow his jaw. He leaned instinctively into her palm and she smiled before drawing him down to her. The kiss began slowly this time. His hand slid into her loosened hair, drawing her closer while the other trailed up and down her spine. Elizabeth curled her fingers into the soft curls at the nape of his neck and Darcy made a low sound against her mouth. She smiled into the kiss. "You made that sound in the cellar. I have heard it often in my dreams." Darcy kissed her harder for that, his arms tightening around her.

By the time they parted, his hair was thoroughly disordered beneath her fingers and Elizabeth smiled up at him. "You are entirely undone, William."

"That I am, my Elizabeth. My love." His hands remained at her waist as he searched her face. "Are you certain this is what you wish?"

Elizabeth slipped her hand into his. "I am."

His fingers closed around hers and he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss against her knuckles before leading her towards the other door of the sitting room, the one she had spent more than a week listening to him disappear through each night.

At the threshold he stopped. Elizabeth looked from the open doorway to him. "Do not tell me you intend to become gentlemanly again now."

His mouth curved. "I was giving you another opportunity to change your mind."

She stepped into his room and tugged firmly on his hand. "Come along, Mr Pemberley. You have wasted quite enough time already."

His laughter was warm against her neck as he followed her through and closed the door behind them.

✽✽✽

Darcy lay on his back staring at the canopy above his bed and wondered whether it was possible for a man to die from excessive happiness.

Elizabeth was curled against his side, her head resting upon his chest and one bare arm lying across his stomach. Her hair was everywhere, spread across his pillow, over his shoulder and tangled around his fingers. It was glorious.

"What are you thinking on, William?" she asked, her fingers trailing lazily over his chest.