Mr. Darcy's Kiss: A Contemporary Pride and Prejudice Romance Read online

  All my thoughts scattered when Mr. Darcy pressed himself to my back. He still had on his dress pants, but his excitement was evident. His bare chest was hot against the skin of my back, and I gasped. He slid his hands up the front of my thighs, nudging them apart with his knee.

  I gasped with raw desire when he ran a fingertip along the lace edge of my panties. I shivered with want as he played with the soft fabric, cupping his hand over the flimsy material. His other hand slid across the skin of my stomach and up to a breast.

  His fingers were gentle yet insistent as he played with the fabric. He teased me through it, his hips pinning me in place to the table as he worked his magic. My back arched into him, and he used his mouth on my shoulders and throat.

  “Please,” I moaned, hanging on the edge of pure pleasure. I just needed a little bit more of a push.

  “Tell me what you want,” he whispered. His voice caressed me in the dark of the room.

  “Touch me. Take me.”

  He nipped at the soft spot where my shoulder met my neck just as he slid his fingers under the fabric and touched me directly.

  The electricity of skin to skin was nearly enough to do me in, but he pulled back before I could find completion. I whimpered He kissed my shoulder and spun me around.

  “I want to watch you,” he told me, a devilish grin crossing his face. He looked me up and down, his pupils going wide. “Damn, you're beautiful.”

  The authenticity of the compliment made me freeze for a moment, and he took advantage of it. He lowered his head to a bare breast as his hand went back to the small triangle of lace and pushed it to the side. His thumb made tiny circles as a finger slid in deep.

  He moved in slow stroking motions, working his thumb and his fingers in perfect harmony with my body. Every nerve ending started to tingle as he stoked the fire deep in my belly with his touch. His tongue worked my nipple, teasing it as he worked.

  One hand threaded through his dark hair, holding him in place to me as my breath came hard and fast. The room spun until all that was left was Mr. Darcy and the pleasure he gave me. The pleasure I craved.

  Everything hummed and throbbed as I crumpled into him. Exquisite pleasure ripped through my body, pouring out of every nerve as I froze and writhed at the same time. I would have fallen into a helpless puddle of vibrating pleasure on the floor if he hadn't held onto my hips.

  “Damn,” I squeaked, my voice unsure of how to work after such an intense orgasm.

  He grinned, his smile cocky as hell and pupils wide with enjoyment. He rubbed his thumb in a tighter circle making me whimper with the pleasure of his touch.

  But now I wanted more.

  I reached down and caressed the hard length of him through his pants. He jerked into my touch, moaning with pleasure. I felt like the queen of sex knowing I had this effect on him. He looked up at me with those blue eyes, and I knew that it was true.

  Lust, desire, want- they all burned there in blue fire. My breath caught at the intensity of it. He wanted me in a way I'd never seen anyone want me. It was pure and unbridled. My body lit to his touch, eager to play with that fire.

  “More,” I whispered again. “More, please.”

  He smiled a predatory grin that made my knees go weak as he put his hands on my hips and lifted me up onto the table. It was cold on my bare skin, the tiny string of thong not providing any protection. I gasped but didn't pull away. If anything, I simply spread my legs.

  I reached for his belt and tugged it free while he undid the button and zipper, kicking his pants to the side. He was a boxer-briefs man, and they did him credit. I reached for the waistband, wanting to see what was underneath causing his poor underpants to nearly explode.

  That's when the doorknob twisted.

  My eyes went wide, and my hands went to cover my naked breasts, but if someone walked in, there was no place for me to hide.

  Mr. Darcy moved like a cat, his hand on the back of the door holding it in place. The handle moved up and down, and I held my breath.

  “Try another room. This one's locked,” a male voice said. “There's got to be one around here.”

  A female voice giggled. It was just another couple looking for a room in the new hotel.

  Mr. Darcy held the door still. The voices faded, but he kept his hand on the door until he was sure they were gone. I didn't know how much longer we would have before we would be interrupted again. Without a lock on the door, there was a very good chance that we could be caught.

  At this moment, I didn't care. Not with him standing there looking hotter than sin and me ready to drown in him.

  If there was an upside to almost getting caught, it was the fact that he now had to walk back toward me. The man was all long, lean lines that my fingers itched to touch. I wanted to lick the paths leading to a V above his legs. It was incredibly lick-able.

  I grinned as he pulled off his underwear before casually crossing the room. He was the embodiment of cockiness and confidence, and my body shivered with anticipation. He stopped at his pants, pulled a condom from his pocket, and carefully slid it on.

  He took two measured strides before he was back between my legs.

  I spread my legs wider, tempting him into me. He waited, his hard parts pressed deliciously up against my soft ones, teasing me with what came next. One hand moved the tiny bit of fabric to the side, and there was nothing left to stop him. His finger traced my cheek in a gentle caress. It was so much sweeter than I expected and my throat tightened.

  Was this more than just sex? It suddenly felt like it could be.

  He kissed me, and I forgot everything else. Everything except him and the promise of wrapping myself around him vanished. My body took over, and I arched my hips, drawing him into me. His hand tightened on my hips, and the low, male noise nearly sent me spiraling into orgasm.

  It started slow, with just a gentle rocking of his hips. Every slow inch, by inch, by aching inch until he filled me to the point of almost pain. Still, I wanted more. I needed it over and over again. He retreated, and I whimpered until he moved forward and filled me once again.

  I watched as he tucked his head into my shoulder, watching himself fill me again and again. I loved watching it too. I reveled watching him take me, feeling the pleasure of him overwhelm me yet again.

  I'd never had anything like this. I'd never ached to have someone go deeper than before or to crave just another inch of skin to press into mine. I'd never felt this hot and full of intense need. I craved him like I craved oxygen and he delivered.

  Desperation forced me to buck my hips, wanting more than this slow and sensual torture. The pleasure building deep in my core needed a release, and the slow burn wasn't going to do it for me.

  "Harder," I whispered, looking into his eyes. The blue fire flared, and he pressed deep.

  His hands gripped my hips, my legs wrapped around his ass and my hands pulled him into me. The weight of his muscled chest and abs pressed into me. His muscles strained with the effort as he tried to maintain control.

  “Elizabeth,” he groaned, struggling to keep himself from losing himself. It was my name that undid me. The sheer urgency and desire in every syllable skyrocketed me into coming so hard I couldn't tell up from down. All I knew was that he came with me.

  He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his body shaking with mine in the ultimate pleasure. I couldn't let go. All of the passion, all of the fight, all of the anger had turned into sheer pleasure that rocked through both our bodies.

  We both were breathing hard. I knew that at any moment someone might walk through that door and find us. I didn't want to move. I didn't want this perfect moment to end. We were one, and it felt more right than anything ever had.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispered, his voice ragged and raw. It made me shiver and start to heat all over again.

  I whimpered, keeping him pulled into me. I wanted his skin against me. I wanted this all over again and again.

  From across the room, his pants start
ed to vibrate and hum.

  “Don't go,” I whispered, locking my arms around him.

  “I have to at least check it,” he replied, kissing my temple. I sighed as he stroked my hair back and kissed my forehead.

  Reluctantly, I released him. The loss of his touch was a physical pain. It was cold and sharp as I waited for him to look at his phone. I grinned as I thought of us getting a room. It didn't even have to be a nice room. Just someplace with a bed. Oh, the things I wanted to do with him in a bed.

  The table was good, but a bed would be even better.

  Maybe the shower, too.

  I looked over to see him putting his pants on as he held the phone up to his ear. I frowned but didn't say anything. Maybe it was just a quick phone call. He did have a business to run. A quick phone call, followed by a trip to a real room would be fine.

  “This is Darcy,” he said, his voice calm and in control. It was the same and yet so different than the voice that had just gasped my name.

  He was nearly fully dressed again. His shirt was still unbuttoned, but other than his shoes and jacket, he was dressed. I still sat practically naked on the table.

  He paused at whatever the other person on the other line said. He held still for a moment before looking at me.

  “Is it absolutely necessary?” he asked. His face went hard at the answer. “One minute.”

  He kissed my forehead and then walked out of the room.

  I watched the door swing shut and click softly behind him. His voice disappeared down the hallway.

  Still, I waited. I waited until I was cold and shivering. I stood up, the heat from before no longer there. Now there was just emptiness.

  I struggled to put my dress back on, fighting with the zipper until I had it most of the way back up. I kept hoping that every footstep outside in the hall was him, but they always kept going.

  I looked around the room once I was dressed again. It seemed sad instead of romantic now. The shades were cheap and the missing chairs obvious.

  My throat tightened as I realized he wasn't coming back.

  He was gone without saying a word.

  My chest clenched and I fought back the tears. I was better than this. I was so much more than this. Was the connection, the intensity of it, just in my head?

  I sniffled. I had nothing to show that there was anything between us.

  I was nothing more than an easy shag. One I did for bragging rights.

  I picked up my phone and messaged Jane that I didn't feel well and was heading home. The party was over.

  Chapter 11

  “I feel stupid, oh so stupid, it’s amaaazing how stupid I FEEEEL,” I sang softly to myself. No one on the subway even looked at me strangely. People singing on the subway wasn’t considered weird in New York City. I half expected someone to throw me a dollar.

  I pressed my forehead into the cool glass of the window and watched the dark brick walls of the subway pass by. I felt so stupid.

  Why in the world did I sleep with him?

  I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I could understand that he was the most attractive man I knew. I could see how that might make me do something I now regretted. I wanted to pretend that I’d had some whiskey and some champagne, so I probably wasn’t in full control of my faculties. I knew that was a lie.

  I’d known exactly what I’d been doing when I slept with him.

  I’d wanted it.

  And now I was paying for my stupidity.

  I checked my phone again, but there wasn’t a single message from him. He’d slept with me, walked out on me, and then didn’t even have the decency to call me the next day.

  He just didn’t want to talk to me. He’d gotten what he wanted. A shag.

  I was an idiot, and he was a total ass.

  I sighed and hummed my stupid song to myself again. I’d been singing it all day at work. I only had one patient, which meant that I had way too much time to sit and think. I kept hoping that a difficult patient would arrive, just so I could concentrate on something else, but everyone stayed miraculously heart-attack free.

  Great for patients, bad for me.

  My phone stayed silent in my hand, just like it had all day.

  It wasn’t like it would be hard to get my number. He was a billionaire, and his best friend lived in the same building and was dating my roommate. Hell, he could have just sent Charles down to say something.

  I sighed and knew that was stupid too. What in the world would he have Charles say?

  “Hey, thanks for shagging my friend.” Or perhaps, “He wants to marry you and have your babies, but he had something really important come up last night. Sorry. All the apologies.”

  Any way that I looked at what happened last night, I was an idiot. I knew he was terrible, although sexy as hell. I should never have gone upstairs with him. I should have stayed away.

  I got off at my station and stomped my way home. It was dark now, but in New York City, it was never really dark. The lights were everywhere in the city.

  I grumbled the whole way up the elevator to my apartment. I wanted to talk to Jane. I wanted her to tell me that I had simply given into my passions and that I wasn’t a complete moron. I wanted her to tell me that he was a terrible human being and that she would have Charles beat him up for me.

  I needed her calm and sweet approach to this.

  I threw open the door, ready to tell her what had happened the night before. I hadn’t seen her since I had to go to work early and had beaten her home last night.

  I found her sitting on the couch, staring at the “Are you still watching?” screen on the TV. A half a container of ice cream sat melting on the couch next to her. Jane’s face was covered in tear stains.

  “Jane, what’s wrong?” I asked, forgetting my problems, dropping my purse, and running to her side.

  Whatever kind of trance she was in broke as soon as she saw me and she burst into tears. Giant sobs racked her body.

  “He’s gone,” she cried. I had a hard time understanding her.

  “What?” I moved the ice cream off the couch and opened my arms to hold her.

  “He’s gone,” she told me, putting her head on my shoulder and letting me hold her as she cried. “Charles is gone.”

  “What do you mean Charles is gone?” I asked, rubbing her back. “Why would he leave?”

  Jane shrugged. “He says he has to build a hotel in New Jersey and that we shouldn’t be a couple while he’s gone.” She took in a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose herself but failing.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “He was supposed to be in New York all winter for the opening of his new buildings. Did that change?”

  “No, he’s still here. He lied. I don’t know why, but he lied to me. He just doesn’t want me.”

  “Jane, I’m sure that’s not true,” I replied. I thought of the goofy happy look on his face whenever he saw her. “He loves you. He must have something to do in New Jersey.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” Jane sniffled and handed me the newspaper. “He just wanted an excuse to break up with me. He said we’re not a couple anymore.”

  I looked at the article she was pointing to as a fresh wave of tears overtook her. It was definitely Charles, and he was definitely in New York City. The worst part was that there was a beautiful blonde woman hanging off his arm and looking up at him like he was the light of her life.

  The caption under the picture said “New love interest? You decide!”

  My heart broke for Jane. My own problems seemed so much smaller right now.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, hugging her close to me. Poor Jane simply cried, her heart completely broken.

  I looked over at the article. I could hardly believe it. The article continued that Charles Bingley had recently taken up a new residence in Manhattan. I shook my head. Manhattan was not New Jersey.

  I had thought the two of them were happy. I had thought they were the relationship that would make it. I was wrong.

>   Yet another thing I was wrong about.

  “You know what?” I said, an idea coming into my head. “Tomorrow is my day off. I’m taking you out for some shopping. We’re having a girl’s day out.”

  “A girl’s day out?” Jane wiped at her cheek. Her beautiful face was splotchy and so sad.

  “Yup.” I nodded, liking my plan more and more. “Just the two of us. We’ll talk smack about men and get our nails done. We’ll eat carb filled, fatty, clog-our-arteries-bad-for-us food and try on beautiful dresses just for fun.”

  “I don’t know, Lizzie.” She sniffled. “It hurts so much. I loved him.”

  I hugged her tighter. “I know. And I don’t know what he’s thinking. He’s an idiot for letting you go.”

  She sniffled and cried into my shoulder.

  “You know what, I’m going to go beat him up,” I announced. “Do you have a baseball bat I can borrow?”

  “No, Lizzie, don’t do that.”

  “No? I guess it would damage your baseball bat, and that’s not worth it,” I agreed. Jane chuckled a little, and it made my heart ache for her that much more. “Please let me try and cheer you up a little?”

  “We can go out tomorrow,” she agreed. “I spent all day home today. I should find a way to get over him.”

  “Good,” I told her, trying to keep my voice light. “Now, let’s put you to bed. Some sleep will do you good.”

  Jane didn’t protest. She didn’t object when I gave her some sleeping medicine and sent her to bed. She went quietly into her room and turned out the light without a fight. Which only made my heart ache for her even more.

  Love didn’t exist, I decided. It was all fake. It was all just a lie to get us into bed and break our hearts.

  I took Jane’s spot on the couch and finished her ice cream because I needed the comfort.

  Chapter 12

  “That one makes your butt look amazing,” I said to Jane, checking out her form in the mirror. “Seriously, your booty is out of this world in that dress.”

  Jane laughed and turned so she could see herself better in the mirror of the dressing room.