From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 67

13 DAYS IN PARIS

Nat

"I can bear it no longer."

Darcy didn't knock. He didn't have to. We both knew neither of us was asleep. It had been yet another amazing day. Ethan had granted us a private tour in a storage facility owned by no other than the Louvre. Since I'd read somewhere only about ten percent of the museum's permanent collection was actually displayed within its walls, I always wanted to see whatever they were not showing.

One might think Ethan was the most attentive brother in History, planning all those things from over two hundred years in the past. I knew better, though; he was probably bored to death in the eighteen hundreds.

As we came back to the apartment, our sexual tension (she became so familiar to me now, I nicknamed her Nora) was on the top of the Eiffel Tower. We pretended not to notice Nora's screams of despair, as usual, and went to sleep. All of a sudden, when I was dozing off, Darcy came into the bedroom, shirtless, and with a very impressive protuberance in his shorts.

"I physically need to touch you whenever you're near. It hurts tremendously not to do so. My heart beats so hard with desire every time I see you, I'm afraid it will escape my chest. I cannot sleep, Nat, with the memory of your soft lips against my own, how delicious you taste, how perfectly our mouths fit." For every sentence, he took a step closer to my bed, until his knees touched the mattress. "I am certain I will lose my mind if I do not–"

I sat on the edge of the bed with a Ninja move, grabbed his neck and pulled his face to mine, until our mouths found each other. He kissed me hungrily, his hand a fist in my hair, the other pressed against my back, forcing me closer.

My mouth opened to him when I felt his tongue tracing my lips tentatively. He tasted of honeysuckle, the warmth of his hard body making me moan in his mouth. He bit my lower lip and sucked, earning yet another moan from me. Darcy then made a trail of kisses through my jaw, my neck, and my collarbone, effectively giving me goosebumps.

The special place between my thighs sang "Crazy in Love" for him, but unfortunately, he couldn't hear it out. I was in paradise. When his irresistible lips reached the limits of my nightie, he moved a millimeter away from my skin. "No!" I complained emphatically.

"We are not properly dressed for the occasion, Nat", he offered me as excuse. As far as excuses went, this was a lousy one.

"What the shell do you mean? What should we wear?"

"That is precisely the issue here, Miss Nathalie", he was bearing one of his devilish smiles on those perfect lips of his. "We should be wearing nothing at all."

Oh, Mr. Darcy could be naughty. Nat liked it. A lot.

He found the hem of my nightie and pulled it up, and there I was, wearing nothing but my lace panties. I moved closer, but he held me back by the shoulders, pushing me until I was laying on the bed again. His fingers went to each side of my panties, and he took them off slowly, savoring the moment, his gaze never leaving my eyes.

When I was naked as I came to this world, he took his time admiring me, licking his lips as if I were dessert. Well, you can eat me away, Mr. Darcy. After staring at me like an artist studying proudly (and quite turned on, I might add) a masterpiece he'd just finished, he said hoarsely, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Nathalie. May I kiss you?"

Flock, yeah! "Sure", I whispered.

He spread my legs, went on his knees on the bed, and his mouth found the place over the rainbow (in that case, just the spot between my thighs). Holy flocking sheet! It felt perfect! Right there! Oh, yeah!

"OH, DARCY!"

I woke up. Nooo. Had it been just a dream? Wait. Had I just yelled his name out loud?

NOOOOOOO!

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