Playing Games With Mr Darcy Read online

  Playing Games with Mr. Darcy

  Jane Jaffrey

  Copyright © 2017 by Jane Jaffrey

  All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  The author has asserted her rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book.

  This book contains explicit content which is suitable only for mature readers.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  About the Author

  Prologue

  She shook her head. “It seems I was wrong to think he might be abusing her.” She bit her lip, and her voice became quieter as she fought with her embarrassment.

  “She told me that they ‘played some games sometimes’ and that she found it increased her excitement at their … er, … intimacy.” She stopped, strangled by her shame at talking of these things.

  They walked on for a few moments in silence.

  “Elizabeth?” His voice was deeper, rougher, and she shivered with arousal.

  “Yes, William?”

  “Did you find yourself feeling excited by the thought of ‘playing a game’ with me?”

  Elizabeth knew her face must be scarlet with mortification, but she had set on this course and she wanted to see it through. “Yes, sir, I did.”

  They had walked into the privacy of the trees by now, and Mr. Darcy took her arm and drew her to a halt.

  “Look at me, Elizabeth.”

  She raised her eyes to his, trying to control her trembling.

  He smiled slightly. “Are you afraid of what I might do to you, or afraid I will be disgusted by your admission?”

  Her breathing was coming faster now, and she could really only gasp. “I think — a little of both.”

  “Well, you need not be. On either count, Elizabeth.”

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth was scandalised. “Lydia!”

  “Oh, Lizzy! You were always so high and mighty!”

  Lydia glanced disgustedly around the gracious room. “You might be able to use these grandest of inns and not have to worry about money, but you can’t have as much fun as Mr. Wickham and I do!”

  “Keep your voice down!” Elizabeth didn’t know why she visited her sister. Every time she found herself embarrassed and ashamed of the relationship.

  Marriage hadn’t changed her a bit. But Elizabeth had asked — now she needed to know the answer.

  “But what are these bruises on your wrists, Lydia? Is Mr. Wickham unkind to you?”

  Lydia threw back her head and gave a peal of laughter. “It’s all part of our game, Lizzy.” She leaned forward. “Mr. Wickham tells me what a bad, dreadfully naughty girl I am. He drags me across the room, holds me down over his knee and spanks me until my bottom is so red, I swear that I often cannot sit down.”

  Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “Lydia, you can’t let him do that to you!”

  “But Lizzy, it’s so exciting. Then he puts me onto my hands and knees and takes me like a dog. Last week he bit my shoulders as he took me.” She flopped back into the chair, fanning herself. “I tell you, I have never enjoyed myself more. Except, perhaps …” she eyed her sister, “… the day he took his riding crop to me.” She grinned delightedly at Elizabeth’s gasp.

  “Don’t be shocked, just think about it. Don’t you wonder sometimes what it would be like if your Mr. Darcy would hold you down, force you to let him have his way?”

  She looked away, suddenly bored. “But then he’s so boring and so proud. He wouldn’t worry about doing what you might find exciting. He’s boring.”

  “He is not!” Elizabeth was stung to retaliation. But she couldn’t deny that she had no experiences such as Lydia had recounted. Mr. Darcy was far too respectful of her to dream of doing what she’d just heard.

  So why did she feel an ache deep within her belly and a throbbing sensation between her thighs?

  “It is time for me to go, Lydia. Do you like Nottingham now you have been here for several months?”

  Lydia shook her hair back. “It is all right. I don’t like us having to move with the regiment so often, but at least there is always dancing and entertainment.”

  “I must go. I will visit you again soon now that you are quite close to Pemberley.” Elizabeth pressed a little money from her allowance into Lydia’s hand. She was under no illusion that was what her sister had been waiting for, not the opportunity to meet and to talk.

  As she climbed into the coach with her maid, she waved at Lydia, who set off walking along the road towards the barracks.

  Elizabeth sat gazing out of the window, thinking what her sister had said.

  Don’t you wonder sometimes if your Mr. Darcy would hold you down, force you to let him have his way?

  She swallowed, trying to keep her outward composure. She leaned back and closed her eyes. It was fortunate that it was not too far to Pemberley, but she still had more than an hour to think about what had been said.

  He holds me down over his knee and spanks me until my bottom is so red, I swear that I often cannot sit down.

  She could feel her own face going red and struggled to calm her breathing. But what would it be like? Mr. Darcy would look at her with his serious face. He would shake his head and tell her what a naughty girl she had been.

  Elizabeth felt a damp slipperiness between her legs and her heart raced.

  She must be such a bad wife to find even the thought of it exciting.

  He would indicate his lap to her and she would lie across him. She imagined him lifting her skirts, exposing her bloomers. She felt his fingers tugging her bloomers down, exposing her bottom.

  She bit her lip, struggling to stay calm. How she wished she had told her maid to sit with the footmen outside.

  Her muscles clenched as she imagined his hand smoothing over her heated skin. You’re very naughty, you deserve this, don’t you? he’d ask, and she’d mumble into his breeches. She could almost feel his hard length pressing into her side and then he’d spank her bottom with a loud slap.

  She jerked forward. She must not think of this — at least not now. She sat back again and attempted to calm her breathing.

  But she could not stop her mind returning to the subject again and again.

  Could she ever speak of this to Mr. Darcy? One thing was certain, he would never presume to do anything like this unless she did ask him.

  What would he think of her for saying it? Would he think her thoughts disgraceful, would he look at her with disgust?

  She shivered. But dare she say nothing and wonder always if she would have enjoyed it — whatever it was.

  Chapter 2

  Elizabeth returned to Pemberley in the early afternoon. Her heart swelled with love as she saw Mr. Darcy waiting for her as the coach drew to a halt. He was always waiting for her return and she knew he worried when she was away from home without him.

  He assisted her down the step. “Dearest Elizabeth.”

  “Thank you, William.” Even through her glove his hand seemed to burn her. What would it feel like, striking her bottom?

  “What i
s it? What’s the matter?” He had heard her gasp and his face was suddenly concerned, serious.

  “No … nothing,” she stammered.

  He leaned in closer to her. “I don’t believe you.” He offered his arm to her.

  “But we will have tea first.”

  She allowed him to lead her into the drawing room for tea and they sat over it in what she felt as a rather uncomfortable silence.

  Then he put down his cup and came over to sit close beside her. “I think you have something to tell me.” His deep voice sent a shiver of desire down her body. It had always been this way.

  She smiled at him. “May we take a turn in the gardens?” Not for anything did she want to be overheard.

  He stood and bowed. “Of course.”

  They strolled slowly along the gravelled pathway towards the trees.

  “We cannot be overheard here, Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy’s voice was quiet and intimate. “You may speak freely.”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth knew she would only be heard by her husband. But that was her concern. Did she want to risk his displeasure if he thought her wrong in her request? But if she didn’t speak she certainly would never experience that which had exercised her mind so much on the journey home.

  “Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy stopped and turned her gently towards him. She stared at his shirt front, not being tall enough to stare into his eyes. He lifted his hand to her face and gently tipped it up. His eyes burned with love and tenderness.

  She was foolish indeed. He would never strike her, never. She must not even hope for such a thing.

  “I pray you do not feel that there is something you dare not tell me, Elizabeth. I would be most unhappy if I felt that you were hiding something because you were frightened of me.”

  “No, William! Never!” Elizabeth hated seeing him disappointed in her. “I trust you absolutely.”

  “Then you must tell me what you have been wishing to, ever since you got out of the coach.” He smiled slowly. “It might be that I will be happy to hear of it, although I doubt Mrs. Wickham had something I would be pleased to listen to.”

  Elizabeth turned away with an effort and began to walk on, very slowly. Her husband walked beside her, seeming to know she would find it easier to talk when she didn’t have to look at him.

  “I …” she swallowed. She had to do this. “I was concerned for some bruising on Lydia’s wrists,” she said carefully, knowing his features would be darkening in anger at Mr. Wickham.

  She shook her head. “It seems I was wrong to think he might be abusing her.” She bit her lip, and her voice became quieter as she fought with her embarrassment.

  “She told me that they ‘played some games sometimes’ and that she found it increased her excitement at their … er, … intimacy.” She stopped, strangled by her shame at talking of these things.

  They walked on for a few moments in silence.

  “Elizabeth?” His voice was deeper, rougher, and she shivered with arousal.

  “Yes, William?”

  “Did you find yourself feeling excited by the thought of ‘playing a game’ with me?”

  Elizabeth knew her face must be scarlet with mortification, but she had set on this course and she wanted to see it through. “Yes, sir, I did.”

  They had walked into the privacy of the trees by now, and Mr. Darcy took her arm and drew her to a halt.

  “Look at me, Elizabeth.”

  She raised her eyes to his, trying to control her trembling.

  He smiled slightly. “Are you afraid of what I might do to you, or afraid I will be disgusted by your admission?”

  Her breathing was coming faster now, and she could really only gasp. “I think — a little of both.”

  “Well, you need not be. On either count, Elizabeth. But first, we need to walk on just a little further.” He was looking round, a calculating expression on his face.

  She didn’t question him. At least he was still looking at her without disgust on his face. She was only conscious of his warm hand clasping hers, and the strange, heavy ache deep within her.

  She knew that feeling, after all, she was a married woman of many months now. And she loved her husband, who spent all his time pleasing her. But this seemed to have deepened her feelings and she found herself wondering when she might discover what it was like to have him take control, perhaps administer a little discipline.

  As they reached a small clearing, Mr. Darcy’s grasp on her hand grew a little firmer. He drew her over to the opposite side, where a fallen log lay in the dappled shade.

  He sat on the log and pulled her towards him, until she was standing between his spread thighs. At no point did he let go of her hand.

  He sat there, appraising her expression carefully. She stood there quietly, but her heart was racing. What had she done?

  He smiled at her and lifted her hand to his lips. His kiss seared the skin on the back of her hand.

  “First of all, Elizabeth, you must remember that I love you. I will never do anything you don’t want me to, and if you change your mind you must say so and I will stop immediately. Immediately.” He drew her even closer. She could feel the firmness of his thighs on the outside of her own legs, and her own arousal rose.

  “Elizabeth, if you want me to stop, you must tell me. I will be very unhappy if you don’t tell me and I hurt you.”

  Hurt you. His words echoed in her mind. Did she want this? The throbbing desire in her belly told her yes.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “I assure you I will.” She bit her lip. “Quite possibly before I have discovered why I am so excited by my thoughts.”

  “I understand, but we will then be able to talk and decide what to do.” His expression was hungry and his voice hoarse.

  “Remember, say stop if you want me to stop, but if you do not, then I will make the decision as to what I do.”

  She stared at him. “Yes, sir.” She struggled to control her ragged breathing.

  He squeezed her hand. “All right then, we have a game to play.”

  Chapter 3

  He drew her closer and his hand tightened over hers. His thighs closed around her, trapping her as she stood so very close to him.

  His voice was rough. “I think you have behaved scandalously, Mrs. Darcy. You have brought shame on me.”

  She looked up, startled, but he did not allow her to interrupt, and raised his other hand.

  “No, I will not hear another word. I think you need to be chastised, Mrs. Darcy. I think you need to learn your place.” His hands closed around her waist, his thumbs caressing little circles through her gown.

  He was playing, she realised, and she relaxed — just a little.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I’m very sorry.”

  “Well, that’s not good enough, Mrs. Darcy. I think that this time you need to learn that such behaviour has consequences. I am your husband and it is my duty to teach you how to behave.”

  She lowered her eyes, hoping he hadn’t seen how already her body was responding to his rough manner.

  “Very well, come here.” He moved her aside and closed his legs.

  “Lie face down over my lap, Mrs. Darcy.” The coldness in his voice was rather daunting.

  It’s a game, she told herself. It’s a game. I asked for this. She bit her lip.

  “Out here, sir? We might be seen.”

  “Yes, we might.” His voice was unmoved, and she felt her excitement rise to another level. “Over my lap now, Mrs. Darcy.”

  They were most unlikely to be discovered, she knew that. But the slight possibility made her throat close up.

  She couldn’t believe she was doing this as she found herself bending over him until she was lying across his long, lean thighs, feeling a damp slipperiness between her own legs.

  His hands were on her and he pulled her body up closer to his. She felt his manhood, rock hard, pressing through her gown into her side. His left arm pressed down on her back, pinning her to him.

  Her bosoms were pushed i
nto his thigh, his hard muscles painful against her nipples, pebbled with her excitement.

  She bit her lip, her breathing harsh in her ears, as she felt his right hand pulling the skirts of her gown aside and sliding up her leg.

  She knew him, heavens, she’d been his wife for months, and was accustomed to feeling his hands on her body. But this was so different. The heavy aching throb deep in her belly, the cool breeze riffling along her sensitive skin, never before exposed to the elements like this.

  Her skirts were up over her body now and she knew her bloomers were on show to the world. Goodness, no one was looking, were they? His hand pressed over her bottom and she felt his hand slip inside the opening of her bloomers and he explored her secret parts.

  His chuckle was warm as he felt her wetness. “I think you are enjoying this far too much, Mrs. Darcy.”

  She moaned with shame that she had been discovered. She was indeed very much aroused by his actions, although she didn’t think she would use the word enjoyment to describe her state of mind.

  He bent over her. “Have you ever experienced chastisement this way, Elizabeth — as a child, perhaps?”

  She moved her face sideways a little. “No, sir.”

  “Well, then, I will be rather more lenient than I otherwise would be — as this is the first time.”

  He straightened up, back in character. “Now, Mrs. Darcy. Your punishment.” And suddenly, his hand ripped her bloomers down her legs and she was completely exposed to the air — and any observers.

  She began to struggle a little, but without any expectations of being released. She was right.

  “Keep still,” he said roughly and his large hand began rubbing firmly over her buttocks and she froze. How had she never even considered that she might find this whole … game … so amazing.