Enid Wilson - My Darcy Mutates…

He let out a groan and gave in, pulling one of her knees to his waist. When he positioned himself and thrust into her decisively, she was tight. Very tight. He had never felt such intense pleasure before, from the friction and heat of her wet core.

Pushing deeper and deeper, he broke through her virginal barrier and joined with her, as one body. She gasped from the sharp pain, but soon her aroused breathing urged him on. When she wrapped both her legs around his waist, he started the maddening dance, drawing in and out. He savoured her sweet scent, her smooth, tight muscles and her rhythmic cries. As he thrust and pounded, his head was spinning with pleasure, and they both reached ecstasy at the same moment.

When they had caught their breath, he apologised for his initial remark. In turn, she told him her story, explaining the desire to save her elderly father that had prompted her to volunteer in his place.

Darcy laughed out loud when he heard about the rumours of the war.

“But, my love, the River Thames was pink because my bloody cousin, Richard The Blue Wizard, who is warring against me, overturned a ship which contained his pink virility potion.”

“And the remains of the red coats in Hoyden Park?” Elizabeth asked.

“Richard hated me for besting him over a game of darts and in drinking. In a fit of pique, he tore up any uniforms of our army that he could find, and then directed his man to trample on them in Hoyden Park.”

“But where have all the men in the kingdom gone?” she asked, not understanding.

“All are here in Londonland, drinking and learning how to throw darts. They compete with Blue Witch’s men every day and night. I only play him once a year. So far, I’ve won for the past two years.”

“Men and their vices!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“Well, the darts and the drinking war will come to an end soon. Richard the Blue Wizard and I have agreed on a best-of-three-over-five-games rule. I only need to win over him this year and then all of the men can return to their homes. You have such a pair of fine eyes, I am sure you can teach my men better dartthrowing skills. And you can certainly drink most men under the table. I am confident that we can win over the Blue.”

True to his words, General Darcy and Colonel Bennet triumphed over the Blue Wizard, in the end. All of the men were discharged and sent back to their homes. When Elizabeth returned home to her family, she arrived with her husband General Darcy and her baby boy. They stayed for a few days and then went back to Pemberley, Darcy’s estate, where they lived happily ever after.

Lydia blamed her mother for forbidding her to go into the army. She was jealous of her sister’s good fortune, as Lydia now preferred a bare chest and leather kilt to a red coat.

1435BC, Merytum, Lower Egypt

Da, I will not forgive you this time, Elibeth swore as the boat left Merytum and sailed downstream. She was once again been married off to an upper-class husband without her consent, this time to a provincial leader no less.

Brokered into marriage by her money-tight parents at the age of fourteen, and again at eighteen, her two previous marriages had been carried out only by proxy. Her first husband died in a shipping accident, and the second died in a military expansion, before either of them could actually meet their bride. After that, she had thought that she was safely done with having to live with strange families for months on end; she had been certain that she would spend the rest of her life contently at home.

But she was not that fortunate. Her mother was in want of money again, and had apparently set her husband to marry Elibeth off again. Therefore, at the age of twenty-one, she was once again on a journey to the home of a strange family, the Darcymose.

Darcymose was the provincial leader at Pemberlium, one of the richest administrative regions of the Egyptian Kingdom. His family had governed the lush region for hundreds of years and reported to the vizier, the Pharaoh’s second in command.

Normally, the great provincial leader would not have considered Elibeth, a poor engineer’s daughter, to be suitable. But her last two marriages to men of great importance had elevated her status.

Still, she did not understand why he chose her. She had heard that many of the wealthy families in the kingdom had been attempting to marry their daughters into the Darcymose’s family since the provincial leader turned fifteen. He was rumoured to be quite tall and handsome. But he had never married…until now. Her mother told her that he was on business in Upper Egypt, that explained why he wanted them to be married by proxy.

Elibeth would have lashed out at her father if he had been brave enough to face her. But no, she had only learned of the wedding from her mother half an hour before the ceremony, and she had then been shipped off immediately.

She thought back on the ceremony with anger. What an irony that she had been married in the Temple of Isis, the goddess of fertility, with Darcymose’s familial priest presiding…and no sign of a bridegroom. Again. While the priest was praying for her to be blessed with many children, she was praying that Darcymose might greet his god of death, Anubis, before meeting her.

When she arrived at Pemberlium, she was stunned to learn that her husband had returned and was awaiting her in their quarters.

“You!” Elibeth hissed, reeling with shock upon seeing her new husband, for this was a man she had first met nearly three years earlier, at her second husband’s home. At that time, he had been introduced to her as a friend of the family.

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.