“I do trust you.” The words came out quieter than she intended. She took one step closer, then another, until only a few feet separated them. “That is why I am going to ask you something I never thought I would ask anyone.”
He straightened, suddenly alert. “Ask anything.”
Elizabeth held his gaze. Her heart hammered so violently she was certain he must hear it.
“A kiss.”
There, she said it. She could not take it back now.
For a long moment Mr Darcy did not move. He simply looked at her, his dark eyes wide with disbelief. The firelight caught the sharp line of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble, the way his throat worked as he swallowed.
“Elizabeth...” Her Christian name slipped from him, raw and unguarded.
She did not correct him.
He took one slow step towards her, then another, until the space between them had almost vanished. He lifted his hand—slowly, giving her every opportunity to retreat—and brushed his fingertips against her cheek with a reverence that made her breath catch.
“Are you certain?” he whispered.
She nodded, unable to speak.
He searched her face for another heartbeat, then lowered his head.
The first touch of his mouth was impossibly gentle—a mere brush of lips, warm and tentative, as though he still feared she might vanish. Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered closed. She felt the faint tremor in his hand where it rested against her cheek, the careful restraint in every inch of his body as he held himself back from taking more.
Then the kiss deepened—still slow, still tender, but no longer tentative. His lips moved against hers with hunger, tasting, savouring. She felt the warmth of his breath, thefaint trace of brandy, the way his other hand came up to cradle the back of her head with exquisite care.
For one perfect, suspended moment the world narrowed to the press of his mouth, the heat of his body so close to hers, and the thunder of her own heart.
When he finally drew back, only inches separated them. His forehead rested lightly against hers, his breathing ragged.
“Elizabeth,” he said again, her name a vow and a plea at once.
She kept her eyes closed, afraid that if she opened them the spell would break and reality would rush back in. Her lips still tingled from the kiss. She licked them slowly, tasting him. When she lifted her gaze, she found him staring at her mouth with such raw intensity that her breath caught.
“This was my first kiss,” she whispered.
His eyes darkened. For a moment he seemed unable to speak, his gaze fixed on her lips, mesmerised.
Then Elizabeth rose onto her toes, gathered the front of his waistcoat in both hands, and kissed him again.
This time he did not hold back.
His mouth met hers with hunger. One large hand slid to the small of her back, drawing her flush against him, while the other cradled the nape of her neck. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she gasped softly. He took the invitation, deepening the kiss, teaching her with slow, sure strokes how to respond. She learned quickly, meeting him, letting the pleasure of it wash through her like warm wine.
A low, guttural moan vibrated from his chest into her mouth. The sound sent a sharp thrill straight to her core.
His hands roamed—possessive yet reverent—sliding over the curve of her hips, up the line of her spine, pressing her closer until she could feel every hard plane of his body through the thin layers of fabric that separated them. She trembled, clinging to his waistcoat as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
He broke the kiss only to trail his mouth along her jaw and down the sensitive column of her neck, his breath hot against her skin.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice rough and pleading, “and I will. I beg you—stop me, Elizabeth.”
She said nothing. Her head fell back, offering him more, and he took what she gave. His lips moved lower, tasting the hollow at the base of her throat, then returning to her mouth with renewed fervour.
One of his hands rose slowly from her ribs, tracing the side of her breast through the fine lawn of her nightgown. When his thumb brushed the soft swell, she gasped into his mouth. He circled the peak of her nipple until it tightened into a hard, aching point beneath his touch. He pinched it softly. A deep groan escaped him as he felt her response.
“Did that hurt?” he whispered against her ear, his voice sending fresh waves of heat between her legs. “Let me soothe it.”