Darcymose stood and tried to wrap his arms around her waist in greeting, but she pushed him away. “Why did you use the name of ‘Wenamun’ and not Darcymose when we first met?” she demanded.
“Wenamun was my mother’s surname.” Darcymose said. “My father had just passed away, at that time. I did not want women fawning over me.”
She thought back at the grim countenance he had often shown at that time, and felt a tinge of sympathy. “I did not know,” she said. “I am sorry.”
He pulled her with him, urging her to sit on the edge of the bed, and she allowed him to do so.
“But why did you marry me?” she asked in bewilderment. “Did you not say, back then, that my maidenhead might not be breakable because I was cursed? That, since my first husband had died before he could have a taste of my lips, the same would probably come true for my second husband, as well?”
He held her hands and rubbed them gently. Gazing down at her, he said, “I fell in love with you then. Of course I wished your second husband dead.”
A shiver ran through Elibeth’s body. “How could you fall in love with me? We only dined and talked together a few times.”
“We danced once, as well.”
His fingers left her palms and smoothed their way up her arms. She felt a warm current flowing through her body. “But that was three years ago.”
“I had to allow a respectable amount of time to pass before I claimed you. I did not want your previous family to think we had formed an attachment back then. They would complain to the vizier and complicate the matter. But I have been keeping a close eye on your family. Had your mother wanted to marry you off sooner, I would have initiated my plan immediately.” His hands reached her shoulders, and he used his thumbs to make circular motions at the base of her neck.
“I did not wish to marry again.” She trembled, feeling the coarse texture of his thumbs and breathing in his musky scent. “What if I fight you?”
He remembered their last encounter. She had just heard about the death of her husband, and had seemed extremely relieved to know that she would soon be leaving that family. He recalled that, after drinking a few glasses of wine at dinner, her face had turned a lovely shade of pink.
He had rejoiced in the news for he known her husband was a violent man and that she would soon be freed, and so he himself had consumed a bit more than he should, as well. When he met her in the garden later that night, he could not suppress his ardent feelings, and kissed her passionately.
Taken by surprised, she had tried to struggle at first, but his lips soon persuaded her. By the time he parted her tunic and suckled her nipples, she was lost in the moment. She enjoyed his magical tongue and lips, feeling a pulse pounding between her thighs.
Only when he pushed his hands under her clothes and cupped her womanhood did sanity returned to her. She would not cheat on her husband on the day of his death, no matter how strongly she was attracted to this handsome man. And so she pushed him away.
He stood back at once, but extended his hand to touch her creamy mounds one last time. She, however, would have none of it, and slapped his face before running out of the garden.
Thinking back now on her temper and the fiery glint in her eyes, he was eager to provoke her passions once again. “You are welcome to fight me,” he teased. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he grasped the front of her dress and tugged one side of it open. “But in bed only.”
She gasped and raised her hand to strike him.
Anticipating her response, he caught her hand and lowered his head to kiss her wrist. Then he traced his lips down her arm and then across her breast until he reached her exposed nipple.
When he used his lips to pull her nipple taut, then wet the tight-gathered tip with his tongue, all strength left her body, and she subsided onto the bed.
He followed her lush body down and pushed the other side of the dress off her shoulder, baring her white alabaster breasts to his burning gaze. With three years of longing and ardency to fuel him, he devoured her creamy mounds, licking, suckling and squeezing them.
As his mad ministrations continued, the temperature in her body grew. She had never known such passion before. She tore at his hair, pressing him to her chest, then thrashed her head from side to side in sensual torment. She loved his torturing kisses but she wanted more, so much more...
She felt his hands leave her body as he struggled to strip off his clothes, and she whimpered in protest. He caught her nipple in his teeth in response. She screamed in ecstasy and reached her peak in that instant, trembling violently and feeling a wave of honey-sweet sensation at her apex. Then she went limp, as if floating on a cloud.
He quickly stripped off his clothes and returned to her. When he pressed his naked flesh against her hot skin, he felt that he had come home. He rubbed rhythmically against her, calling her urgently back from her bliss.
His hands kneaded her, dispensing with her gown, awakening every inch of her gorgeous body. Her breathing quickened again, and she parted her thighs instinctively to welcome his body.
He needed no additional encouragement. Guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, he pushed into her hot core with a forceful thrust, claiming her.
She moaned aloud as his hard shaft tore through her maidenhead and continued inward to press against her inner muscles. Panting hard, she felt him drive deeper and deeper, until he had reached her very hilt. Then he pulled out quickly, almost to the entrance, creating a burning sensation on her skin, before pounding into her with vigor once again.
She screamed in ecstasy as her inner muscles were stretched and rubbed by the passage of his throbbing manhood, in and out, on and on. Her hands dug into the muscles of his back, squeezing them hard when he was deep inside her and caressing them softly when he retreated to her entrance.
His muscular torso pressed and tantalised her twin peaks as his body drove up and down against her own. His lips kissed her earlobe as her teeth bit into his shoulder. Sweat against sweat, moan against moan, kiss against kiss, they strove.
He plunged into her for what seemed like ages, continuing long after she reached her peak of delight. Only when her fingernails traced his bottom and then teased at the juncture of his laboring thighs did he surrender and explode, crying out in utter satisfaction as he filled her with his seed. Completed, they trembled and convulsed together as one soul.
Was Elibeth’s prayer in the Temple of Isis answered? Fortunately not.
Her third husband, Darcymose, lived to an old age and blessed her with many children. He could be rough and wild at some times, yet gentle and deeply tender at others. Although she did not love him in the beginning, she soon learned of his good character and became happy in her love of her husband soon thereafter.
As time went on, there could be seen in the gallery hall of Pemberlium many touching portraits and statues of their family, including children and grandchildren, revealing their marital delight and the warmth within their entire family, a happy history on display for the delight and inspiration of future generations.
The Dragon Gentleman
What if Mr. Darcy was cursed?
Colonel Elizabeth Bennet surveyed the number of offerings with keen interest. Although her job was well remunerated, she still loved a bargain. She wanted to buy a robotic pet, this time. Since her sister Jane had married and moved out, she felt that her space station was a bit too quiet.
“Eliza!” The high pitch voice of Lt. Colonel Bingley gave her a shudder. “Did you have a good Christmas break?”
“Yes, great. And you, Lieutenant Colonel Bingley?” Elizabeth inquired politely, making a mental note of the fact that Caroline didn’t address her as ‘Colonel,’ as she should. On the other hand, Elizabeth’s sister Jane was now married to Caroline’s brother Charles, making them sisters-in-law.
“Looking for a Christmas bargain? How about this miniature laser gun? It’s cheap enough to be within your budget,” Caroline said with a smirk.
Elizabeth’s lips thinned. The lower-ranking officer came from a wealthy family, and she never let Elizabeth forget that her brother had ‘lowered’ himself to marry Jane.
“I don’t need a gun, off duty.” Elizabeth said, and moved on as a robotic green dragon some ten feet in height caught her fancy.
“What can this dragon do?” Colonel Bennet asked the captain in the sales ring.
“This is Dragon Wickham, made of titanium alloy. It can fly, and it can also arrange laundry or papers, due to its colour differentiation IQ.”
Elizabeth pressed the muzzle of the dragon and it spoke. “Good day, Sir.”
“It’s not very intelligent. It can’t distinguish my gender,” Elizabeth remarked to the captain.
“Maybe because you don’t look like a woman,” Caroline said, intruding upon the conversation. Elizabeth had to admit that her sister-in-law dressed more femininely and provocatively, in leather vest and matching skirt, laced together. The flesh of Caroline’s medically perfected breasts and hips was on display.
Elizabeth was traditional. She had never gone through plastic surgery, and so her body was not in symmetry.
Caroline pressed the muzzle of Dragon Wickham, and it greeted her by saying, “Lovely day, my dear.” She snickered at Elizabeth with a triumphant smile.
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