Symbol Meme for Sophia

[Benedict Bridgerton]

                                              I'm not bound by the rules of society                                 

◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ [ ✪ ] our muses are stuck in locked room together. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Tag Sophia Beckett

                    

[Sophia Beckett]

How did one go about asking her husband to for more? Not to say Benedict did not give her everything she could ever imagine, and so much more! He had given her safety, and stableness, and kindness, and love--more love then she thought she could know. Yet he had also show her passion, and bliss! And now she wanted more.

Walking into a room he was using to draw in, Sophie softly shut the room. Watching to make sure that he was engrossed in his drawing, she slowly turned the key--flinching softly (and a little amused) when it made a locking sound that she thought the neighbors (whom lived very, very, very far away) had heard. Pulling the key out she slipped it on to a bookcase near by, where it would not be easily seen.

Walking over to her husband, she smiled when he looked up at her. "The door is locked," She told him, "I shut it behind me, but I cannot open it back." Which would mean they were locked in this room. Alone. Together. With nothing else to do. She would need to build up to that, but for now.

_{Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton
PS:you asked!}

[Benedict Bridgerton]

Tag: Sophia Beckett

i' m    n o t    b o u n d    b y 

THE RULES OF SOCIETY

Benedict had not believed that happiness such as this could ever exist. The time he spent agonizing over both the Lady in Silver and Sophie -- not having realized they were one in the same -- had been worth every ounce of pain if it resulted now in this state of perpetual bliss. He was finally able to be with the woman he loved, in every sense of the word. Joined by heart, bound by marriage, souls united. Benedict, had truly never been happier nor expected he could love someone as strongly as he did her.

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This state also was truly inspiring him with his art, never having felt more muse than he did now. Which, led him to his current position. He was seated on the sofa, his body too long for it, so his legs were hanging off the other end as he was outstretched on it, his back against the other end of the piece of furniture. His mind, was completely engrossed in what he was doing. The charcoal in his hand making swift lines with such ease and focus . . . having nearly shut out the entire world around him. Nearly. Because it was always fully impossible to do with Sophie nearby and he must preferred her to be after all.

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So when he noticed her start to approach, while he did not move his eyes from his sketchpad, he was indeed listening to her words, revealing that the door was locked and she could not open it. Taking a moment or two to finish the section of his sketch, he raised his eyes to look at her, a slight flicker of curiosity. "Truly?" He asked, finding that odd. Assuming she needed to get out to do something,

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Benedict set down his sketchpad and charcoal, swinging his legs over the side and to a stand, and making his way to the door. Making an attempt -- a futile one -- to turn the handle. He tried a bit harder, and harder but it seemed to be locked, or jammed. Looking around in the near vicinity, but not thoroughly enough to change his position, he turned his attention back to the door, making a bit of a face. "The key must be on the other side," he concluded. Which, would not help the current situation. "Most odd indeed," he thought aloud, a little perplexed by how it had happened.

[Sophia Beckett]

Most odd indeed. Yes it was. He assumed the key was on the other side, and Sophie looked at where she had hid it, just making sure it was there. Even though she knew it was. "We appear to be locked in." She told him, walking closer, and moving to lean on the door so she could look up at him. Her tone was not worried, but then being locked in was not something that worried her.

"We shall have to find something to keep ourselves entertained with we can leave." To which they did not have to wait on anyone, as she knew where the key was. Moving from the door as if she was giving up so quickly, Sophie walked over to look at his drawing. She knew she should feel guilty for distracting him from something he enjoyed, but she was attempting the first seduction of her husband. "What are your drawing today?"

_{Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton}

[Benedict Bridgerton]

Tag: Sophia Beckett

i' m    n o t    b o u n d    b y 

THE RULES OF SOCIETY

As she moved in front of him, leaning against the door, Benedict slightly raised an eyebrow in curiosity. She did not appear to be bothered or concerned about this. Granted, he was not concerned per say but he would have thought that she would wish to have the option to escape. To Benedict, he could think of no one he would rather be locked in a room with than his wife.

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"You say that as if you have something specific in mind," he told her teasingly, not entirely certain she did but there was just something about her tone that made him . . . curious. As she made her way over to his sketch, Benedict trailed behind her, making a bit of a face as he fought the urge to cover his drawing from her sight. Though he knew he was improving, he also knew he had a long way to go . . . and a lot of confidence to build when it came to his artistic capabilities.

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"Nothing significant," he said in a slightly self deprecating tone of voice. It was just a series of eyes, in attempt to capture ones soul in the way the eyes were created. Reaching over for it, he inspected it for a brief moment before tossing it on the table. "Are you not in haste to leave?" He asked, wanting to make sure there was no urgent need for her to get out . . . for if there was not, then they may as well get comfortable. Though Benedict would ask first in case he would have to be more, forceful in finding an escape for them.

[Sophia Beckett]

She did have something in mind, and she was of mind to tell him; yet before she could he once again down played his art. It caused Sophie to teach forward and touch his wrist, as if to stop him from tossing it to the side. While she was not fast enough to stop him, she still held her fingers there. "I liked them," She told him, before reaching around him to pick it up once more. Looking down at the art she smiled softly. After a few moments she looked up at him and smiled "They are amazing."

She knew a bit about his feelings toward his art, and wanted him to know that he did not have to hide it from her. "Why should I be hurried when I am trapped with the man I love?" She asked slyly, ignoring the fact that he seemed close to figuring out what was happening here. At least partly--he was clueing to the fact she was not worried about this. The next logical idea would be that she'd locked them in. Looking once again at his work she reached forward to sit it back down on the table. "Draw me," she asked of him suddenly, smiling up at him. Moving to face him, her hands moved up to his shoulders as she leaned forward to kiss him.

_{Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton}

[Benedict Bridgerton]

Tag: Sophia Beckett

i' m    n o t    b o u n d    b y 

THE RULES OF SOCIETY

Benedict felt a strong sense of pride and honor when she said that she liked his sketches; that they were amazing. He was not confident enough to feel the same, but nevertheless he felt a sense of pride when she complimented them. Because, he trusted her. She was always honest with him and he knew that she would not say it, if she did not believe it. "You are amazing," he told her playfully, though his words thick with sincerity.

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Uncomfortable to let the conversation rest on praise for him and his work, he welcomed the shift as she then asked a question that caused his smile to grow. "Well when you put it like that . . . it seems most convenient." He paused for a moment, slight suspicion arousing within him and making no secret of it upon his expression -- not that he was often able to withhold his expressions.

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"Perhaps, too convenient," he added with tease. She then asked him to draw her and before he could answer, allowed himself to fully embrace the kiss. No matter how many times they kissed, or touched . . . it never failed to touch his heart, body, mind and soul. Consume every ounce of him utterly. Easing out of the kiss only long enough to speak, he rested his forehead against hers. "I could never do your beauty justice," he told her, not even wanting to try for he would fail miserably. And yet, he seldom could deny anything that his wife asked of him.

[Sophia Beckett]

Why could he not see himself the way she saw him? There was wonderful man before her, and it seen him in doubt of his skills always humbled her, and at the same time made a fire grow inside her heart. Because he if would not admit his greatness, then she would do it for him. No matter toward whom. Forever.

"Of that I doubt," she told him, when he told her that he doubted he could draw her the way he wanted. "You are always your hardest critic. Even when you bring paper to life." Leaving the topic of of him drawing her, for she had other plans while here, and while she would love to see herself as he saw her--that was not her priority in his endeavor.

That belonged to removing his pants. Which was why she had also cleverly not commented toward his words on the door being locked too convenient. She only had to tilt her face up to let her lips find his. Her hands finding his ribs, and sliding up to his shoulders, and then around his neck. He had told her once, that by touching him once, he had needed to find a cool lake to stop his desire. With this story in mind, with the thought bold in her body--her hands moved down this time. Moving lower, over his ribs, and lower over his belly, and lower, to hold his hips--and make her intentions clear.

Or she hoped--for if not then she would have to grow bolder still.

_{Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton}

[Benedict Bridgerton]

Tag: Sophia Beckett

i' m    n o t    b o u n d    b y 

THE RULES OF SOCIETY

Her words though undeserved -- believing himself unworthy of such praise -- never failed to fill him with such a strong honor. Such strong flattery. For the way she praised him . . . was unlike any other. Words of such confidence and certainty . . . yes. It was most flattering and touching indeed. And aided him in believing in himself, as she believed in him.

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Fortunately however, the conversation moved along to . . . none at all really as their lips found one another instead. A welcome distraction indeed. He softly kissed her, his hands sliding to her back to wrap his arms around her small frame. Her own hands starting to slide over his body; first sliding up towards his shoulders and neck . . . before sliding downward. Over his ribs, his stomach and . . . further still. Enough to cause Benedict to pause in his lips moving against hers as he began to smile.

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He took a slow breath as he eased out of the kiss, looking at her with soft intent, one of his hands moving from her back to her cheek as he gently caressed her soft skin. Feeling her touch him in such a way . . . a flicker of realization crossed his features. "Sophia Bridgerton," he began to say. "What did you do?" He questioned with playful accusation in his voice. For suddenly, it was becoming more clear, more evident of the circumstances that led them to be 'locked' in this room . . . and it was evident that the second son had no issue with it. If nothing else . . . he wanted her to continue. He wanted to feel more of her, to be with her. To, encourage her to continue in her forward actions which were most enticing. Most welcome. Most wonderful.

[Sophia Beckett]

It seemed that as clever as her plot was, her husband was more clever--as he figured to out with some amusement and glee. He even used her full name. "Nothing regretful," She told him, without telling him more. She did not regret doing it, and she felt no guilt in doing it (only some minor ones of taking away his drawing time).

"I was attempting to seduce my husband, however it is not going as planned." Her amusement told him that she was not disappointed in it thus far. Since she had let the news slip, or as the servants used to say 'let the cat out of the bag', there was no longer a reason to be subtle. In fact she was feeling rather bold, now that she had admitted to wanting him.

"Perhaps I should follow your lead?" She teased, reaching up to kiss him, like he so often kissed her. Letting it deeper, and linger, while she pressed her body into his. After a long moment of just kissing him, her fingers moved to his buttons of his shirt; as she began to free them. She had afterall learned from the best.

_{Tagged: Benedict Bridgerton}