Freedom Of Expression

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict was enthralled. His mind frequently replayed the night; a night surely to remember for some time. And a night . . . that Benedict wished would not remain a one time occurrence. Henry had introduced him to a part of society that Benedict had not even thought possible. The sheer freedom and liberation that could be found and felt; radiating from each presence at these . . . parties. How was it possible to crave something so deeply that one could not even name? Until discovery of such events. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He had never been one to enjoy the extravagance of balls and dances but this . . . was an entirely different form of extravagance. He felt for the first time, in a long time, he could breathe. He could allow himself to just let go of the confines of society and live. It was of course what brought him back to the man's doorstep, welcomed as the second Bridgerton son stepped inside. He wondered if the awe of this reality would ever truly subside. Seeing the figures, the intimacy, just, everything. Sheer perfection. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ The host informed him that there was a place for him in the sketching room and Benedict stood in the threshold just watching the others draw. How did they do it so seamlessly? Let their hands glide over the paper so effortlessly? Without any pause or need for self doubt? Could he ever aspire to be such a person? How he longed for it and here, under this roof, in this event . . . was the first time Benedict believed that perhaps, just perhaps it could be attainable. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Realizing that he was in the way, Benedict apologized as he stepped to the side to allow another entrance into the room. It was how he had caught sight of a familiar . . . incredibly welcome sight. His lips curved into a smile as he approached her. She of course, was a big part of what made the first party such as this he'd attended, quite memorable indeed. "Madam Delacroix," he greeted, finding it rather fortunate that he had caught her in a moment alone to . . . converse. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance once more." To say the least. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

The London season came with more secrets than Lady Whistledown had yet to discover. While the ton focused on the debutantes of the season, the young ladies who entered society with one thing in mind. They didn't have time to notice much else, matchmaking mamas and their daughters conspiring together, whispering and glancing, fluttering their lashes and, thankfully perhaps, a new frock was required for each of the official events. So the London season kept Genevieve Delacroix busy and when it wasn't the women of the ton, or her friends appearing on her doorstep for advice. When it wasn't work however Genevieve found away to keep herself busy, where social standings mattered less than in grand ballrooms and inhibitions were left elsewhere.

Genevieve left the conversation with the host of the party with a warm smile, exchanging kisses on the other's cheek. This was where the ton truly showed what they were like, though the mere ideas of those debutantes and mamas whom she dressed in the finest silks and lace ever stepping a foot at an event like this filled her with mirth.

No this was a smoke filled den, a glass of wine in her grasp as she floated through the house with light steps. After departing the conversation she found herself floating from room to room, in search of conversation, in search of more. The unpredictability of what could be found always an appealing reason to show up in the first place.

While his voice hadn't been familiar to her the last time they met this time it was what caught her attention. As the crowd seemed to pass between them and she moved closer, "Mister Bridgerton," the smile remained across her features as she turned to him, dark curls pinned away from her face as her gaze took in his boyishly handsome features. He still appeared in awe of what he was witnessing, not fully comfortable in his surroundings but definitely more comfortable than he had been his first time at one of these soirées. "I'm pleased we didn't scare you away last time," Genevieve Delacroix teased.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict smiled at her tease. How easy it was to converse here. The weight and pressures lifted from ones shoulder so that they could just enjoy self exploration and expression. It was not something he took for granted for it was finally the one place where he felt he could be himself. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "On the contrary," he told her with a continued smile. "I found my last experience at such an event to be quite . . . exhilarating." The words were filled with truth, but the ease in which he spoke evident. Gone was that rigidity and need to be careful of words and to whom one spoke them to. Genevieve was not a woman of high ranking and yet, that mattered not to the second Bridgerton son. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Here, it did not seem like such things held importance as they did at balls and other extravagant affairs. "Besides, how could I possibly be scared when I received such a warm welcome the last time." His words a continued tease, yet there was also a hint of flirtation to them, referencing how she had been a part of that warm welcome indeed. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Widows and wives of the ton earned privileges but they were none compared to those of boys and men. So here he stood in front of her yet again, though this time it was Benedict who had spotted her first, brimming with confidence and looking far less surprised by his surroundings than last time. It would be a lie to say he hadn't surprised her, by appearing at Granville's party in the first place. Though perhaps this really was the second born son embracing the freedoms revealed to him.

"You'll find nothing but warm welcomes here, Bridgerton," her tone echoed his, sultry with flirtation and dark gaze filled with amusement.

Of course, it was the women of the ton with whom Genevieve spent the most of her time; she saw the nerves clear in young debutantes eyes, emotions ranging concern to determination in the eyes of their mamas. She felt for the young girls, a world of responsibility on their shoulders to secure a future, sometimes not only for themselves. She had seen some of the young girls at parties like these before, the ones that had married men who introduced them to more than the ballrooms and extravagance. Seeing their eyes being opened up to how much more life could be was endearing, to see a kinship form even the most arranged of marriages.


Genevieve returned his smile, smoothing a hand over the lapel of his jacket. "You may want to learn to dress for the occasion, this is not one of your ballrooms filled with blushing debutantes," Genevieve informed him, lowering her voice into a whisper, even as her tone remained light-hearted. Taking a step back from him she lifted her glass to her lips again, watching him over the rim as she sipped the wine, "and now that you've received your welcome, what comes now?"

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Warm welcomes. Yes. Benedict was quickly learning that. The feelings of being so out of place slowly fading with embracing what surrounded him. Embracing who surrounded him. And here he thought that as a Bridgerton, he would stick out like a sore thumb. But no. Genevieve had taken notice to him but he did not feel . . . judged for being here. The surprise merely to know that he would be here. If his family knew however, that . . . would be an entirely different matter. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Something I am quickly realizing," he told her, voicing his thoughts when it came to warm welcomes and sheer enjoyments. His eyes remained on hers, enjoying the caress of her hand over the lapel of his jacket. Where he often kept at a distance when it came to such flirtations at balls and other extravagant events, he did not mind it here. There, so many eyes were upon them. Something else that Benedict did not often like or crave: attention. But here, in these closed walls and under this quiet roof, no one watched one another with intent to spill secrets and spread scandals. Benedict may be inexperienced in this world . . . but it was something he felt, more than could assure through experience. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "A comforting thought," he said, knowing he was admitting that this was a far more comfortable place for him than those balls. "Would you suggest then, that I wear less . . . " Purposely pausing in between his sentence, suggestion in his voice at where he ended before continuing. "Formal attire?" Finishing it, there was a bit of a playful smile upon his lips, continuing and encouraging the flirtation. "As appropriate wear falls in your line of expertise, perhaps you could teach me a thing or do about such a topic." Another tease, made just in time before she stepped back and asked him what came next. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ It was indeed difficult to look away from her. There was something quite . . . alluring about the woman. Captivating. The ease in which she conversed with him, and the mutual feeling of it so . . . refreshing. And desired for the second born Bridgerton. "Is there no more warmth to be had?" He asked, suggestiveness in his tone . . . playing on the words of a warm welcome. He couldn't resist taking a step towards her, despite her having stepped back, as if to further emphasize his words of there surely being more. While he knew that this was the one place he could paint and explore his creative prospects . . . all else seemed to shift from his priority when he was in such entrancing company. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

The unspoken understanding between those who attended these parties was a reassurance to them all. There was no judgement, nothing to fear, the possibility that Lady Whistledown would find out about your activities so small it almost didn't exist. No, under this roof they were all safe to indulge on whatever it was they craved, what they wanted. The writer who had captured the ton with her scandalous columns would surely salivate upon becoming aware of what happened during the rambunctious rendevouzs.

"I'm sure it is," Genevieve tutted downing the remainder of her wine before placing the glass on a table. His disdain for the husband chasing mamas and their prized daughter shuffled about ballrooms obvious in his tone of voice. It was an entertaining sight, the obvious yearning for freedom, to not marry, to find a purpose in something. It was as endearing as it was amusing. One thing the dark haired woman presumed was that this was not the same man who accompanied his mother and sister to a dance; this man had mischief evident in his eyes as his gaze held hers. "That," she began, mimicking his pause as her hand slid further down his lapel, catching onto a button, "would be exactly what I'm saying," her voice turning into a hum as she popped the button, "I'm afraid it is not my direct area of expertise, though I believe a learning opportunity should never be discarded so quickly when one is presented with the opportunity to broaden one's horizons." She let her fingers continue to move over the buttons, finally trailing up over his shoulders, pushing beneath the thick fabric of his jacket as it slipped over his shoulders.

It truly was a place for experimenting, for ignoring the rules of society. Guests all dressed to the level of their comfort, pushing the boundaries as far as they elected to. A half buttoned men's shirt covered Genevieve's frame, a deep red corset beneath it and a pair of breeches finishing off the outfit. Her dark hair was pinned out of her face and yet cascaded down her back in a stream of wild curls. It was practical, despite the love she held in her heart for a satin frock there was no denying the advantages of what she would wear to the parties.

Arching a brow she took a step towards him, a hum on her lips, fingers working over his cravat until she had untied it, leaving it to hang loosely around his neck, "I believe that remains to be seen, Bridgerton," she mused, goading him into action, pupils blown and this time it was her who took another step towards him, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "Perhaps a demonstration would be in order? Of this warmth you speak of," she teased him, lips curled into a teasing smirk, tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict watched her intently as words slowly became action. The key word being slowly. For each move she made was filled with sensuality. A sight that continued to leave him nearly mesmerized by her actions. He had always wondered about men at balls and how their gaze fixated on one of the women present. How they had been so drawn toward them. Of course Benedict as any other, found some to be attractive . . . but he had never felt captivated by them to the extent of drowning out the rest of the world. It was not love. He was well aware of that. But rather, a magnetism that could not be entirely explained he supposed. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Right now, he felt as if he was experiencing a version of that. Being so enthralled by Genevieve. Not because she was dressed to lure a husband . . . but because of a more authentic beauty and charm. His eyes watched her, not moving from her gaze as her fingers made productive work with the buttons of his shirt, before sliding off his jacket. Oh how glad he was that she had decided to put down that glass of wine so that she may free her hands to do . . . well, precisely what she was doing. Making work of relieving him of the clothing that had been a primary source of conversation. "I could not agree more Madam Delacroix," he teased as she spoke of seizing learning opportunities. His eyes did not leave hers, though he instinctively drew his body closer to hers, attempting to minimize the distance between them. Which was of course, adding to the convenience of her hands upon his clothing. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But simply standing idle was becoming increasing difficult, as she loosened the constraints of fabric upon him, and spoke words that brought desire with them. Within him. His eyes fell to her mouth as he watched her tongue quickly slide over her lips before he met her gaze once more. His hand moved to slide under the oversize shirt she wore, feeling more than seeing the corset underneath, if only to feel her perfectly formed figure. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "But where exactly . . . shall this warmth be found?" He continued to tease, his hand slowly moving up her side under the shirt that raised with his hands movements. He leaned forward, as if to kiss her but paused when they were hardly an inch apart. Close enough to feel her warm breath upon him. He did not even know how he was able to demonstrate such self control. Perhaps it was due to the ease in which they flirted. The playfulness adding a comfort. "Perhaps a demonstration," he saw in a quiet voice, the need to speak up lacking considering their close proximity. "Would indeed be most effective." The temptation became too great for the second Bridgerton and upon his words, he captured her lips with his own. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Making a habit out of such activities with Benedict Bridgerton would surely spell out nothing but trouble. However, as his hands splayed over her sides, fingers moving beneath the loose shirt Genevieve felt herself shift towards him, smiling as she leaned into him. Her fingers found his untied cravat yet again, twisting into the soft fabric the professional in her could not help but admire the feel of it against her skin. His actions were bold now and Genevieve hummed in appreciation, he was learning, was letting himself relax from the rigid rules placed upon him, and she laughed as he stopped himself from leaning in fully.

It was perhaps this boyish charm, this playful nature that drew her to him, and it made it all so simple. One thing she had never believed she would ever associate a Bridgerton with was simple. In her world the only Bridgerton man she had previously dealt with was his brother, and they were so very different, and yet the appeal Siena spoke of was becoming more apparent.

He kissed her and one of her hands slipped into his hair, weaving in between dark chestnut locks, a soft moan swallowed between them, "an excellent demonstration," she hummed, pausing, the previously playful gleam in her eyes darkening, "though I believe further elaboration would be encouraged, this is all about learning after all," she teased him, flirted with him, and here it was all so simple. While they were here there were no demands of them and Genevieve would relish in the fact. She did not long for a future with the man, did not yearn for saving from her life, no she was content with her life, happy with what she had created for herself. What Genevieve Delacroix wanted to do was enjoy this, enjoy this man and the journey he was daring to set off on.

Slipping out of his hold she flashed him a grin, hand grasping his and she spun around picking up a bottle of wine in her other hand as they walked through the crowd, pushing through an unlocked door and as it shut behind them she shrugged out of the shirt covering up her corset, "now, I believe, speaking from a professional point of view of course, chérie, that that waistcoat should be disposed of next."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict quite enjoyed the sensation of her fingers tangling in his hair, though the kiss was far too short lived. And yet, he did not lean in for more when she pulled away. Opening her eyes to see the gleam within her own was indication enough that this was far from over. She spoke of how it was an excellent demonstration, though more was required. Before having a chance to counter, she moved out of his hold, taking his hand instead and leading him to what he hoped would be a vacant room. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ The last time he had pushed open the doors at this kind of party, he had walked in on Henry and his lover. A sight that had been surprising for Benedict to witness. But he was hardly thinking of the two entangled men right now. His attentions were focused on Genevieve. Following her lead -- and feeling relieved at the empty room -- the door shut behind them and he watched her as she divested herself of the shirt that mostly concealed the corset she wore underneath. His eyes moved over her body, taking in her sensual figure as she gave further instruction. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Promptly," Benedict complied, removing the wastcost that he wore and allowing it to fall on the ground, uncaring of where or how it landed. "I do make an excellent student," he playfully remarked, taking these 'lessons' quite seriously. "So much so, that I may even suggest that the next removal should be of that corset." Taking a couple steps towards her, his voice flirtatious with a smile to match. "And I would be happy to assist with the endevour," he further remarked, already moving his hand to one of the ties, placing one end between his fingers and slowly pulling it loose. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Her eyes sparked as she watched him discard the waistcoast with haste, a smug smile across her lips at his easy compliance. Different rules applied these nights, and Genevieve had a feeling Benedict was starting to comprehend the rules far better than she had expected him to. He stalked towards her with the grace of a cat stalking its prey, all charm and that little hint of kind mischief in his eyes.

Genevieve held his gaze as she felt Benedict's fingers grasping at the ties of her corset, feeling it loosening around her torso as he tugged and she hummed in agreement, "I believe taking charge and your own initiative does show potential for your future studies, Bridgerton," she teased him, her own fingers finding the buttons of his shirt.

This, whatever it was, a dance of sorts between them, Genevieve knew she needed to be cautious of it. Getting involved in any sordid affair with a member of the ton held its own risk. Benedict Bridgerton came from a family not only influencial in their society, but his female relatives were all important clients. No, whatever this was it had to take place here, in the protective secret circle of London's hidden society. It was enjoyable, of course, but she would not, could not, allow it to become known to anyone else.

Leaving his shirt unbuttoned Genevieve's fingers skimmed back up his torso, taking a small step closer to him as her lips ghosted over his neck, fluttering touch brief before she stepped back. The corset loose around her now, and her fingers reached for the clasps at the front, unhooking them with ease. While Benedict had discarded his waistcoat without care and while she had unceremoniously dropped her shirt by the door this time Genevieve took her time, turning away from him to place it on a chair in the room. "And now," she hummed, nudging his suspenders off his shoulders before his shirt followed, "what would an excellent student suggest?"

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

His eyes never seemed to leave her, averted only to watch her fingers graze over the material of their clothing, but she was quite a sight that he was rather enjoying -- to say the least. The last time they jumped right into it, allowing the natural passion to direct them. But now, the playful build up and ease in which they were able to do so . . . well, Benedict had not though it possible to be so casual with another. Especially one that he barley knew. "Well, I am under rather inspiring tutelage," he said, offering praise in return to her own complimenting words. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Benedict took a slow breath as she let her lips hover over his neck, the touch too brief and yet perfect at the same time. Their teases did not remain solely verbal; it was quite evident in their actions as well. Clearly. He did not move forward as she pressed back, but rather, just watched her complete what he started in the removal of her corset, turning to set it on the side as he left his shirt on and unbuttoned. As if waiting for her; a silent understanding as she moved back towards him, lowered his suspenders and proceeded with his shirt. His arms moved to ease the action as his shirt joined his coat on the floor. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He pretended to think over the respond, as if putting time and care into what he would say. "I suppose a good student would comment on the need for balance," he began to say. He moved his hand to her back, the tips of his fingers gently grazing up where her skin was bear, the soft sensation of it certainly a pleasure to touch. Leaning in his lips brushed against the corner of her mouth without properly kissing her. "That the amount of clothing should be in proportion when it comes to the top, and bottom." His voice holding the same teasing tone that seemed to be consistent with most of his words spoken to her, as his finger trailed along the rim of her breeches. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

There was chemistry between the two of them, and oh how much easier her life would have been had there not been any. But there was, that much Genevieve had discovered their previous meeting and this was only cementing the fact. Their first meeting had been rambunctious, passionate and in an odd way simple. This was playing games, this was pushing and pulling for reactions and God help her but she was enjoying playing this game with him more than she should've. Her assumptions of him when they met had been clear and yet he had proved them wrong, and there was an undeniable danger in their actions because of it.

Genevieve sighed, her hands moving over his shoulders, fingers curling around the back of his neck and slipping into the hair at the nape of it as he kissed the corner of his mouth. It felt a lot like payback for the butterfly kiss she had placed on his neck mere moments ago. She held steady, her lips barely touching his and yet they stood so closely together that when either of them spoke Genevieve was certain their lips would brush. Humming softly at his words, the sound but a soft purr in her chest she clicked her tongue. "That sounds much like an artist's observation, Bridgerton," she mused, shivering at his touch and yet her voice remained steady and her fingers moved teasingly over his shoulders, touch soft across his chest and abdomen before mimicking the same teasing pattern along the hem of his breeches.

Her touch left his body, moving to her own hips and for a moment her hands covered his as she toed off her shoes, kicking them back further into the room. Her fingers hooked into her breeches, undoing them with ease to nudge them over her hips and derrière until she was able to step out of them. "I must say, you are an impressively quick study," she teased, her touch returning to him, teasing the ties securing his breeches.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

An artist. Had Benedict not been in such a position with such company, his mind would have fixated on the word. Because, it was undeserving. To be an artist one actually had to produce art, and Benedict knew that he was very far off from that point. He merely dabbled. Creations unworthy of being called art; to be placed in the same category as creations from those so skilled like Henry. So, yes. It was indeed truly fortunate that Genevieve was distracting his thoughts, and the word was able to be taken as what he presumed she meant: a tease. A playful remark. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Her touch across his now bare chest caused a surge of heat to course through him . . . desire building yet not yet willing to give up the moment. He still had his senses . . . mostly. Though it was becoming increasingly difficult when she stepped away and began to remove her shoes, and then breeches as Benedict watched, enjoying the sensual display. Oh the conflict; of whether he'd rather touch her to do it himself, or simply watch her do it on her own. Right now, he had no complaints in the alluring sight. His eyes slowly moved over her, taking in every curve, every part of her that was released from the constraints of clothing. Longing to touch her with his hands where his eyes soaked her in. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ She offered him another compliment, his mind refusing to reject it in fear of spoiling the moment. So instead he did all that he could in this moment: play along. "It truly does please me then," he told her. "To know that I can impress you." Her fingers on the ties of his breeches, all too aware that it was the last part between them that was largely covered. Desire soon to manifest in a more physical form. His hand returned to her back, moving down the plain of it and stopping just before touching her behind. He leaned forward instead, placing a light kiss along the side of her neck, before slowly placing another. "Tell me," he said quietly between each touch. "What else impresses you?" His hand moving to join hers along the tie of one of his last worn articles of clothing. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

The slow sensuality of it was so very different this time. Where there had been rushed hands pulling at clothing, combatting kisses and feverish touches there was a calm to their actions now. The playful nature didn't feel strained, neither of them pushing or pulling to speed up whatever game they were playing; Genevieve did not know if it could be defined, and if it could whether she would want to. No, keeping this, whatever it was, just like this was how it should be, unspoken and undefined, was much safer and that way she could allow it to continue. Even in her current state, flushe with arousal and nude she was determined in her decision that this did not more than acting on desire and passion, on a strangely compatible passion they've discovered.

Not acting on it would've been idiotic she decided as Benedict kissed her neck.

Her fingers tightened around the ties of his breeches, pulling at them as his hand covered her own and she moaned at the touch of his lips along her skin. The heat of desire rushing through her, blood boiling in her veins. As reckless as it may have been Genevieve desired him, and oh it was most definitely reckless. She liked to think of herself as rational, as making decision based on thought and ration but this was nothing of the sort. No this, with Benedict, it was desire and passion and despite their actions being anything but innocent there was an innocence to them she found comforting in how they could slip into such an easy tête-à-tête.

She responded to his words by giving the ties another pull undoing them, "I believe you spoke of balance in states of undress," Genevieve playfully remarked, one of her hands abandoning his breeches to brush through his chestnut locks, thick between her fingers and she guided his lips to hers for a kiss, "shoes, breeches, Bridgerton," she demanded, whispering the words against his lips.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

He felt more than saw his pants loosen as he was preoccupying his lips elsewhere, shielding all sight as he focused solely on the sensation of her skin, and the intoxicating scent that filled his senses. When she drew his head back, he made no objection, moving with ease as directed. Which was indeed good, for it resulted in his lips against hers. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He deeply, slowly breathed into the kiss, closing his eyes and allowing the long drawn out moment to pour into the embrace. She spoke against his mouth giving further instruction. Once more -- as always -- he held no obection, complying as he moved to kick off one shoe and then the other. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Gladly," he breathed against her before capturing his lips once more. His hand behind her skimmed down to her behind where while his other pushed his pants down, stepping out of them while his now free hand moved to her cheek. Once free of the barrier of clothing he began to slowly step forward causing her to move back . . . moving towards the wall. "I believe we have now achieve balance," he teased, breathing against her. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.