Animals

A/N: Came up with this while listening to Maroon 5's song 'Animals'. I recommend you give it a listen. One shot. WARNING: SMUT. Not very explicit, but still there. Don't like smut, don't read.

The fight was heated, words and hits being thrown around like bullets from a gun. True, there were some compromising positions, and the room was completely destroyed, but they loved it. It was in the nature of both of them, the passion for fight, the lust for anger. They were like wild animals, fighting for survival and to learn how to stay alive. But they enjoyed it anyway. The animalistic need for it overtook them, and instead of ending their fight when the last words were said, they continued. Elizabeth flipped Darcy off her and pinned him, panting, making her body move against his. Darcy gave her a smirk and shoved her off, sending her crashing into the chair behind her. Regaining her balance, Elizabeth circled him and landed a swift kick to his stomach to send him stumbling back into the door. "So I take it my offer has been rejected?" He asked breathlessly, watching her as she discreetly searched for a weapon. "Yes." Her tone was sharp, and she was soon facing him with the poker back in hand.

She lashed out and he caught her arm. He used this to throw her back against the table across the room. "I would never accept you for a husband, and I will never feel as you do!" she spat at him in contempt. He gave her a humourless smile, watching her warily. "It's always nice to know that I am thought of in such high regard." Elizabeth gritted her teeth and glared at him. Who did he think he was? So high and conceited, so proud that it was unbearable. "Of course, why would I think of you in any other way Mr Darcy." she replied sarcastically, advancing on him again, the poker raised to strike. As she went to hit him on the head with it, he suddenly grabbed her arms and spun around so that he had her pinned against the door, her back to his chest and the arm holding the poker twisted behind her. Elizabeth tried in vain to get free of his grip, growling softly when he tightened it. "Unhand me sir!" She snarled at him.

"No." She jumped. She hadn't expected him to be so close; his lips were against her ear. "Why ever not?!" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Because that would make it far too easy. If we are fighting each other, we are opponents, enemies. Me letting you go would be a show of comradeship, and I would not be a worthy opponent." He explained all this while keeping his lips close to her ear, so that she shivered when he spoke. He liked that he had this power over her; it was exhilarating. She resumed her struggling, but to no avail. He had trapped her. "Mr Darcy," she began. "Yes?" She gasped in shock as his lips moved from her ear to where her neck joined her jaw and kissed the spot. "Wha-What are you doing?" He pressed another kiss to that spot, then left a trail down her neck. "Whatever I want. You're at my mercy." Elizabeth felt an anger at his words. She got so het up that it gave her enough strength to shove him back and turn around. However, she did not get far as he knocked the poker from her hands and pinned her against the door again.

"I am, nor never will be at your mercy." Elizabeth growled at him. She tried to get out from his grip, but it didn't work. She tilted her chin up in defiance. Darcy took the invitation that was there and plundered Elizabeth's mouth with his. Initially, she gasped and struggled, but she soon relaxed into it and pulled at his hair. He gripped her thighs and pulled her up so she was straddling his waist, using the door to support her back. She gave a moan and pulled back breathlessly. What was she doing? She just allowed the man that she hated, the man that had called her inferior and admitted ruining her sisters happiness a moment ago to kiss her senseless, to go at her like they were dogs in heat. And she loved it. She wanted more. Elizabeth let all sense go at the window and just follow her bodies desires. She bought Darcy's lips back to hers and kissed him with a passion she didn't know she had. His hands roamed over her, while trying to keep her in place at his waist.

He turned the lock on the door and walked over to the couch on the other side of the room, just out of sight of the window. He didn't know what had possessed him to kiss her, but he was definitely glad that he did. He lied her on the couch, straddling her, her legs still locked around his waist. He wanted this so badly, but he wouldn't do anything without her consent. The kisses grew sloppier and wetter, neither caring if they were caught. The only thing that existed right now was the two of them, how they were moving together. Elizabeth's dress was rucked up around her thighs, showing the legs that Darcy longed to see. Her breasts were straining against the confines of the dress and chemise, so he freed them. He heard a sharp gasp and she pulled him back down. His coat was flung across the room; his waistcoat and cravat deftly removed, his trousers being shoved aside in eagerness. He stopped a moment, making sure it was okay to continue. She nodded her permission, and he continued. When they finally got to that tipping point, she clutched his hair and gave him the most passionate kiss she could muster, allowing him in. He gave a loud groan, feeling her, the heat, the tightness. Never had he felt such pleasure. Elizabeth's eyes flew open, the pleasure-pain overwhelming her senses.

She wrapped her legs back around his waist and clung to him, raking her nails down his back. He shivered and gave another groan, continuing to kiss her. He could just not get enough of her mouth, or her. She was everywhere, filling all his senses. And he was euphoric because of it. She gave a slight whimper and clutched at the bare skin of his back where his shirt had been shoved up. "D-Dar-Darcy!" she moaned, letting him know something. What, they weren't quite sure, but something. Suddenly, he felt a heat and a rush of wetness, and then Elizabeth opened her mouth in a silent scream. He followed, releasing something and groaning into her skin. Sweat clung to their skin, and stickiness, but they didn't care at all. They were to sated to care, to happy, to content with each other.

They would have to talk about what happened, and clean up before Charlotte and Mr Collins got back, but that was for later. The animals in them were finally satisfied.