Clandestine Meetings

[lennie3]

Thus far her every interaction with Benedict Bridgerton had been unplanned. She had not in her wildest dreams considered the idea of a Bridgerton receiving an invitation to one of Henry's parties (much less accept had they been invited). But Benedict quite obviously had accepted and attended but when she acknowledged his presence it was not with the intention to get involved with the man. Genevieve would admit her opinions of the man before making his acquaintance had been poisoned by her views of his brother, her not so high opinions of Anthony Bridgerton making her less inclined to be impressed by Benedict as well.

The second time had been just as unplanned, in all honesty Genevieve had not been sure if they had managed to scare him off. She had once again been pleasantly surprised to find him prove her wrong. Conversation was easy between them and yet they never discussed how they created a habit of seeking one another out. It was never planned, but in a way it was, while there was no inquiries made to see if the other would be at the next secret soirée Genevieve would find herself looking around for him only to see his gaze travel over the room until he found her.

But this was so very different from those first few times of finding enjoyment and pleasure in one another. It felt they were crossing a line of sorts in their unspoken agreement with this; this time he was invited, this time it was planned. Genevieve had ushered her final client of the day out the door with a warm smile and plenty of praise of what a lovely sight they would be at their next social event.

She knew not to expect him before sunset, both of them wishing to keep what was between them to themselves, though she was sure their reasons for that varied as well, and Genevieve had the chance to take her time to get ready. When it knocked on her door she opened it to greet him with a smile, "Mr Bridgerton."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict had plans tonight but . . . it did not involve a family obligation. Nor was it a party at Mr. Granville's. No. This evening, he would be visiting the Modiste. A strange place for a man, but when the Modiste was Genevieve . . . it made far more sense. The day was filled with the usual tasks, the usual events. Fortunately, there was no grand party or ball that his presence was expected at. While he would have still tried to find way to see her, at least this way he would not have to come up with an excuse. He wasn't always the best liar. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ But what else made this night . . . different, was that it would be the first time he and Genevieve planned to meet outside of Mr. Granville's. This was, just the two of them. In an intimate place. A place that belonged to one of them; to her. Benedict wasn't nervous of course, nor was he overthinking what this meant. He was merely looking forward to getting to spend more time with her, away from watchful eyes and temporary rooms. It added an added, ease and comfort. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Not wishing to show up empty handed, he selected each flower to create a bouquet. Not a large one, but one that consisted of a few flowers. A few, ones he had been very selective to pick the absolutely perfectly formed ones. Perhaps it was an artist's aesthetic, searching for that perfect one, or ones. And when he was satisfied, he grouped them together and managed to keep them hidden when he entered his house once more and when he departed from the house as they remained unseen. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Reaching her shop, the first time he would go to it, he paused outside the door, a smile upon his lips as he knocked. When she opened it to greet him with a smile, his own remained. "Ms. Delacroix," he greeted in response. Once she allowed him to enter, he stepped inside, extending the bouquet of flowers. "A thank you, for the invitation." He was well aware that he was not courting her, that whatever existed between them was . . . undefined. And so shall it perhaps remain as such. Labels were often too overrated. Tag lennie3 Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

She had not expected the flowers, and reached to accept them from him with a surprised hum, "thank you, they're lovely," she stepped aside to allow him inside, locking the door behind him. Leaning her back against the door Genevieve looked down to observe the flowers properly, smiling at the delicate blooms. The gesture was a clear sign of his upbringing; a gentleman did not show up to a woman's home empty handed, on the other hand a gentleman did not show up to a woman's home after appropriate hours unchaperoned either.

Tearing her attention from the flowers in her arms Genevieve's hand found his, silently guiding him through the little shop and up the stairs in the back. She stopped on the stairs, turning to face him where he stood a few steps beneath her, suddenly not a head taller than herself and she leaned forward. Genevieve stole a quick kiss, releasing his hand as she did so, and just as quick as her lips had brushed over his she had turned around once more, slipping up the stairs without looking behind her to see if he followed, leaving the door to the flat open after she entered.

Her flat wasn't large, it was perfectly comfortable for the modiste however. From the small kitchenette to the little seating area and her bed, it was simple but it was enough. It was home. Finding a vase she set the flowers down on the small table covered in rough ideas for gowns and fabric samples. In fact, all over the flat you could find evidence of her work, passion projects and the result of ideas coming to mind in the middle of the night.

"A drink?" she asked, already fetching glasses and a decanter of brandy she kept around, it was decent enough, a gift from a friend, though Genevieve had not inquired how they in turn had got their hands on it in the first place. Pouring two glasses she offered him one before taking a few sips from her own glass. With a soft hum Genevieve set her glass down, the smile which seemed etched on her features growing playful as her fingers danced over the buttons of his jacket, "do you recall our lessons on dress codes, Mr Bridgerton?"

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

As Genevieve looked at the flowers, Benedict was distracted looking at the shop. Men often had no business visiting a Modiste, and he found himself taking in the sights of her shop. One that was well known in the ton. One that his own mother and sisters surely spent countless hours in. He turned to look at her when she took his hand, following her with ease as she led him through the shop and up the stairs, his movements in sync with hers as he paused when she did. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ As she stood taller than him due to the steps he smiled, closing his eyes for the kiss that was far too brief. Leaving him longing for more. And surprisingly, he was able to show restraint -- though he knew it would not last long. Perhaps because of where they were; of the time and space that they had to just, be with each other. In every sense of the word. He watched her go up a couple of steps, enjoying the sight before he proceeded to follow her through the door, entering her flat and once again, taking in the sight of it. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ It was . . . quaint. And perfect. It felt peaceful. Quiet. There was a great charm to it as it was so far from what Benedict was used to and he did not see that as a negative thing. Not in the slightest. In fact, he found a great comfort in it. Perhaps also because he was able to see more of who she was. Not even realizing the dangerous path that could lead to. When she asked him if he'd like a drink, promptly responded. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Please," he asked, watching her pour it as he met her halfway. "Thank you," words spoken as he took hold of the cup, taking a sip. But the moment she moved closer to him, he could see it in her. The playfulness, the perfect ease that so naturally came to them both. His smiled widened as he watched her. How utterly mesmerizing she was. "Apologies," he began to say. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I may have forgotten, as I was distracted by familiarizing myself with the furniture," he said jokingly, a clear reference to a past conversation he had. Still holding the drink with one hand, he moved his free hand to her cheek, gently brushing it with the back of his fingers, trailing down to her chin where she gently and softly cupped it. "Perhaps you can remind me?" He asked, a playful gleam in his eyes. A readiness and eagerness to enjoy their time together. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Merely a fortnight ago Genevieve would have laughed at the preposterous idea of a man such as him standing in the studio flat above her shop. Not only because the idea of any man inside of a modiste's boutique was unusual, it was not their place, nor did most men care about where their wives and other women in their lives got their dresses from. What surprised her was how simple it was to bring Benedict into her home; it did not feel wrong, and though maybe that was a warning in and of itself. Keeping a smile off her lips in his presence had proven difficult and it remained light and playful on her lips, "I believe perhaps I can," she hummed, parroting his words in a manner of speaking as she set down her glass.

Her eyes fluttered shut at the light carress of his fingers, body moving with the guidance of his touch. It was so much easier than it should be to get lost i him. Genevieve let her own fingers fall to the buttons of his jacket, undoing them nimbly and as her actions exposed the waistcoat beneath it she wasted no time in undoing its buttons as well. She grabbed his glass, setting it down beside her own before slipping her hands up his torso, palms softly moving beneath the unbuttoned jacket Genevieve slid it off. Turning away from him she took care in hanging it over one of her chairs around the small table, his waistcoat followed quickly and Genevieve returned the brandy glass to his hand.

Taking a small step back she tilted her head to the side as she observed him, seeming to inspect his countenance with a playful smirk on her lips, "better," Genevieve teased, even as she untied his cravat letting it remain hanging loosely around his neck. Picking up her glass once more the brunette took a long sip of brandy, her free hand not resting idly but instead cupping his jaw, pulling him down for a soft kiss. He tasted like brandy, or perhaps it was her who did, it didn't really matter, no matter who it was it remained equally addictive. She enjoyed the slow manner of their kiss, her hand continuing to move, from his jaw to his neck, around the curve of his shoulder and her fingers pressed harder into his back for a moment before moving to tangle into his thick hair.

"And how is that process of familiarization coming along, Bridgerton? I may be inclined to believe any proper familiarization can not be done simply by observation," she picked up on his previous words with a playfully teasing remark, fingers brushing through his hair as she spoke. She made no other indications of move, instead continuing to sip on her brandy, the slightly challenging element of her words lingering in the air between them.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict was quite looking forward to what her confirmation entailed. He stood still, his eyes following her movements as her fingers started at the buttons of his jacket. She made her way over them, as well as the layer underneath. When she took his glass, he made no objections, uncaring of where it ended up. After all, he did not come here for the drink. He let out a slow breath when her hands slid over his upper body, lowering the now opened jacket. He was rather enjoying the way she took her time; the tender touch she held. The ease in which she moved. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ The familiarity between them having grown immensely and it simply added enjoyment each and every moment they were together. Past times, he had often divested himself of his clothing, tossing it to the side rather caught up in the moment. But seeing her treat it with care, in her home, Benedict found it quite charming of her. And he enjoyed the sight as she moved to carefully set it away. A clear indication that it would be unneeded for some time. Taking the glass in his hand once more, he continued to remain silent and still . . . as she took a sip. He closed his eyes, relishing in the embrace, the soft sensation and the pleasure of knowing what it would lead to. His free hand wrapped around her, gently pressing her closer to her as he enjoyed the feeling of her fingers within the locks of his hair. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Once she eased out of the kiss, he belatedly opened his eyes, lips immediately curving upwards into a smile. "Quite right," he told her. Yes. He merely couldn't stand here like a statue and expect not to express any memory of past lessons. "One must learn through demonstration as well." With the arm he wrapped around her, he shifted it a little, fingers slowly and carefully starting to pull each tie of the dress she wore. Doing it once handed as the other held the glass of brandy, made him unable to touch her, using only the fingers of his free hand to pull the ties, causing it to loosen around her bust first, and then looser on her upper body. He leaned closer to her, lips kissing her cheek, her jawline, moving down her neck . . . his lips caressing her soft skin, taking in her glorious scent. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ When he felt that he ran out of ties, he leaned back a little, setting his drink down so that he could properly lower the upper part of the dress. However, with the same care she treated his attire. With his drink in hand, he then took the drink in her hand . . . holding it, so that each of his were now filled with a glass. He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip. "Your turn," he told her, as if that was his reward for removing the clothing, a playful challenge, his eyes moving over her to thoroughly appreciate what his work revealed. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Genevieve chuckled softly as he shifted her closer to him, smile settling onto her lips. She liked this, his strong hand on her back pulling her into his embrace as her fingers brushed through his dark hair, it was nice. There was a comfort in what was familiar and by now Benedict was, there was a purpose to their touches, a knowledge of each other's bodies and it seemed he had figured out exactly how to touch her to cause her to shiver. Feeling his fingers move across her back Genevieve exhaled sharply, her body arched into his touch as he pulled at the strings tying her dress together.

The brunette did not protest as she relinquished the hold on her glass, watching with amusement as he held the two glasses in his hands. "So it seems to be," Genevieve agreed, small smile bursting into a laugh. His challenge was as clear as hers and in a manner of ways it was comforting, this evening felt like taking a risk, of taking what they had found out of the safe space where it had developed and yet they were managing to keep the quick teasing going and back and forth between them. But instead of choosing an article of his clothing to remove Genevieve co ntinued what he had started; moving her fingers to the ties of her dress she unlaced them, removing her dress fully to leave her in her chemise and stays. Without her experience there would've been a vulnerability to her state of undress compared to him still in his breeches and shirt. But it wasn't, it'd take more to leave her vulnerable, infact Genevieve relished in the power she had learned her femininity could provide for her instead.

She turned away from him, folding the fabric of the dress neatly in her arms before she put it down with their other clothing. She didn't take her glass back from him as she turned back, instead pulling the cravat away from his neck, the material soft between her fingers. Moving to the buttons of his shirt she moved slowly, fingers brushing against his chest as she unbuttoned it, stepping closer to offer him a warm smile and as her fingers fluttered over his skin her lips moved over his jaw.

Pulling back Genevieve finally did take the glass back from him, taking a final sip of her brandy before she abandoned it on the table. It wasn't the brandy she wanted, it wasn't what made her feel intoxicated as Benedict stood so close, not touching her and she felt herself ache for the feeling of his hands over her skin. Keeping her eyes on his Genevieve tangled her fingers into her own hair, pulling out the pins keeping her hair in place to let wild curls fall down to frame her face, dark locks cascading down her back.

She still couldn't believe of right it felt to have him standing in her home, how he didn't feel completely out of place, having him there with her made sense. It took some concentration put with some maneuvering Genevieve eased his suspenders past his shoulders and over his arms to hang at his sides. Her hands repeated a similar pattern to when she had removed his jacket and waistcoat, but this time her light touch moved over his skin as she nudged the fabric over his shoulders.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict quite enjoyed the sound of her laughter, feeling a certain sense of pride that he could draw such a reaction from her. Relaxed. Eased. A sound that was not feigned out of a need to be polite, or exaggerated when one truly felt no sense of amusement. It made Benedict smile, glad that he could amuse and entertain her. For she often drew the same reaction from him when they had the playful air between them, filled with teases and jests. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His smiled became less amused, softening as he watched her remove her dress. Benedict wasn't entirely certain as to how he was able to exercise so much self control at the moment; so much restraint. He did not even feel as if he was fighting the urge . . . for as before -- many times before -- he was utterly enthralled by her. Simply watching her sensual movements, that seemed to come both from experience and natural charm. And all he could do was watch. Watch, with silent praise of her. A praise that he would soon express through touches and closeness. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His eyes never left her for a moment as she set the dress to the side before returning and starting on him. One hand still held the drink, the other fell at his side, his eyes holding a soft gaze as her hands starting to unbutton his shirt, her lips moving over his jaw, prompting him to close his eyes. The warmth of her touch sending a warm sensation coursing through his body. Once it stopped, he opened them, heavily lidded with all she was stirring within him. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Just as he was surprised that he had exercised restraint, he was equally surprised that the glass of drink remained in his hand. As if she had read his mind, she took the drink from him, grateful to be rid of it so that he could use his hand for far more . . . purposeful actions. Letting her beautiful curls loose, she proceeded to lower his suspenders and then his shirt, his body moving only with her direction . . . arms falling to the side when needed, moving back to ease the removal of each article of clothing. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ There was something . . . intimate, about their current position. The act of slowly undressing one another, rather than overpowered with lust where patience was hardly a consideration. While he felt intense desire for her, he also desired this. This gentleness, this playfulness, this . . . intimacy. While his mind did not yet think of the word, nor did he let it overthink. But each moment to build what they knew would soon come, simply added on to the euphoric feeling that always arose when in her company. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Leaning forward, he kissed her . . . slowly, deeply, coaxing her mouth open and carefully slipping his tongue between her lips to explore her. To taste her. To drink in his thirst for her. His hands went to the small ties of her chemise in the front, slowly pulling them to loosen the garment. Easing out of the kiss with a slow breath, he rested his forehead against hers, breathing against her lips with less than an inch between them. With the chemise loosened but not yet removed, Benedict's hand went to the back of her head, now enjoying a feeling that he so often enjoyed from her. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His fingers weaved through her loosened curls, gently and carefully tilting her head back as his lips found the front of her neck, slowly kissing down it's perfect form. The trail of kisses continued along her collar bone, while his free hand slid from the ties to slide along her stomach to her waist, spanning over it from the side. His mouth continued to work its way along her soft skin, reaching the top of her breast exposed from the design of the dress. Kissing whatever skin peeked out from the now loosened chemise, moving from one side of her chest and slowly making his way to the other side of her chest while his hand around her waist slid to the shoulder of her garment, starting to pull it down. Tag lennie3 Note: That was a freaking long post for Ben not saying anything at all! Hahah! Sorryyy!!

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

Slipping his shirt off his arms Genevieve hung it over a chair, still taking care to do it but she didn't turn away from him this time. The intimacy of them was natural, following along the ease she felt in his company, slowly removing each other's clothing. There was no need to rush, no risk of anyone pushing the door open and disturbing them.

For the first time they had one thing they had never had before - time, and based on their deliberate movements it seemed they were both in agreement on taking advantage of the benefit of it. Whatever time they did have Genevieve knew it was fickle. The one thing that remained sure and constant in this was how what they would only share was the very moment they were together, it would not be more than that, Genevieve was sure they had both understood that.

So nothing about it should have felt as simple as it did. It should not have made as much sense. But somehow it did, somehow his company had always felt comfortable and easy. From their first meeting where she approached him with mistrust and disdain of his character based entirely off of what Siena had told her about his brother now, conversation between them had come easy. She did not conceal her words around him, speaking openly with confidence. It had been unfair, she had known from the beginning, but her own prejudice and curiosity too strong not to voice her opinions.

There were many things about this meeting between them she could have ended up overthinking, the risks of what it meant could easily come to mind if she allowed them. It was different in so many ways before even considering the fact of him being in her home. They had always met on neutral ground before, never acknowledge any intention behind their meeting, both content in the pretense they had not sought out the other at a party. What they were doing now risked the simplicity between them but something about him made the risk worth taking.

Genevieve sighed into his kiss, pushing herself up onto her toes, tempted to mold herself against him before she felt his fingers pulling her chemise loose. One of her hands moved from his hair to cup his face as their kissed progressed slowly. The slow exploration of each other beginning, soft touches and passionate kisses guiding their way to discovery of one another. Letting her eyes open as he pulled back she felt his breath warm against her lips, fingers dragging softly across the side of his face and she offered him a small smile.

His fingers eased their way into her hair and Genevieve moaned softly, leaning her head back in his touch to expose her neck to him, breath hitching as his lips moved over the column of her throat. Her eyes fluttered close as his kisses trailed over her skin, her own fingers tightening in his hair as the other grasped his shoulder. It was so easy to just melt into his touch, to shift closer to him as the pleasure of his kisses drew moans from the brunette.

The loosened fabric fell from her frame with ease as Benedict pulled at it, bunching at her hips before falling to pool at her feet. Just as it did Genevieve stepped closer to him, her body pressing against his and her forehead dropping to his shoulder. Breathing slowly she placed a small kiss over his skin, smiling against him. Pulling slightly on his hair she guided his lips back to hers, this time it was her coaxing his lips open, letting her tongue explore him as she relished in the feeling of his skin against hers. Genevieve nuzzled her nose against his when she spoke, her voice gentle as she practically sighed against his lips, "take me to bed, Bridgerton."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict parted his lips to grant her ease of access when she silently urged his mouth open. Her grip in his hair moving his head where directed and he made no objection. So long as he his lips could touch and taste any part of her. His hand fell from the back of her head, trailing down her now bare back with the chemise fallen to the ground. Breathing into the kiss, and finding himself unable to get enough of it . . . or her. She eased from the kiss, only to tell him to take her to bed. The words sent a thrill through him, the idea of having a bed at their convenience. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Ironic, considering the number of times they did this, but a bed added an entirely new level to their actions. For it was not just the comfort of one -- as he remained mindful that their required creativity on where to be together sometimes led to rather, unique positioning. But a bed . . . would grant them more than comfort. It would allow them the time to explore one another, and be together. It would allow them those moments after the bliss, where they could just lay next to each other and bask in the aftermath. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ It would allow him to be able to hold her and enjoy the warmth of her body. All dangerous things to consider if Benedict was considering the dangers at all. But, he was not. He only felt the longing, the urge for the bed . . . so that they may be granted more time. So that they could be here, together without the haste of having to leave or the threat of another entering. So when she told him as such, telling him to take her to bed, Benedict did not wish to waste a moment fulfilling the command. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Kissing her again, allowing the feeling of it pour into the kiss, he let it linger and build, before parting, a playful smile forming on his lips. Without saying anything, he kissed her bare shoulder, his hand gliding over her stomach as he stepped to the side and behind her, bending down to pick up her chemise that she had stepped out of. He then carefully placed it on the back of the chair, having taken notice of the care in which she handled their clothing and couldn't resist the tease of returning the favor with the garment they had let fall to the ground. Even if it was just her under dress. Not wishing to waste another moment, he immediately returned to her, lips eagerly seeking out hers in another kiss as his hands went to her waist, lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around him. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Promptly," he breathed against her mouth, familiar words he had once said to her. He made his way to her bed, anticipation building within him, as he set her down upon the soft surface. His lips continued to hungrily move against hers, laying her down on the bed while he still sat near the edge, his upper body lowered so that he could continue to kiss her, his hands braced on the bed on either side of her body. He missed the warmth of her chest pressed against him, but such a position was necessary so that he could kick off his boots. This time, he did not bother taking any care to line them up properly. Once they were removed, he shifted his position so that he could properly settle himself on top of her, renewed sensation of their bodies pressed together while his hand went to her thigh to wrap a leg around his waist still clad with his breeches. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

A line was crossed the moment she invited him into her bed, or rather commanding him into her bed. There had been a line crossed when she invited him, when he accepted her invitation, when they undressed each other, and now once again. This was pushing what they had to entirely new levels and Genevieve found herself longing to see just how far she could push, what the limitations of the bond they'd created truly was.

If she was truthful she had wanted this more than she dared to admit to herself. Had she not wanted to explore him, to figure out every part of him, to truly take her time with him? This was her chance. Genevieve knew very well this was not something which would last. She didn't fear the day their bond would be severed, as much as she enjoyed his company it would really only ever be that, something which she could enjoy. Genevieve could not allow it to be more.

She couldn't help but laugh as he stepped away from her, picking her chemise off the ground to place it with their other clothing. The care he took with their clothing was endearing, and endearing was a way which she could not afford to think of Benedict Bridgerton as. But if she was truthful with herself then she found him to be far more than just endearing; he was intelligent, quite obviously open-minded enough to be where he was with her, handsome of course, but perhaps most importantly he was kind.

"I don't believe you could call that promptly," Genevieve teased him, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her off the ground, her lips still attached to his as he walked them towards her bed. Despite the eagerness of the kisses shared between them the calm in their actions remained, not clinical but controlled, purposeful in every kiss and every touch. She felt the plush mattress beneath her moments later, the soft quilt covering it far gentler against her back than the wall in Henry Granville's home had been.

He pulled away from her and Genevieve shifted up onto her elbows to watch him, the smile on her lips joyful and yet serene. She observed him with dark eyes as he kicked off his boots before returning to her, "you seem to be a lot less careful with your own footwear than my undergarments," her words remained full of mirth, the smile on her lips only just containing her laughter and even so as he returned to her a giggle escaped her. Genevieve brushed her fingers over his face, pad of her thumb trailing over the bridge of his nose and down across his lips, she smiled whispering quietly, "I feel the need to confess this is more comfortable than that wall."

The fact that what was between them would one day need to end did not mean she could not have him now. But the thoughts were dangerous. Even so, here and now, when he was in her bed, Benedict was more hers than he ever would be.

But the feeling of him pressed against her now, the distinct difference of the soft bed beneath her and the hard body on top of her so very enthralling. Genevieve moved with him as his hands guided her leg to wrap around his waist pulling him closer to her as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Lifting off the bed she kissed him, lips moving languidly against his and she sighed contentedly. Oh this was definitely dangerous, and tempting danger may have become her new favourite thing to do.

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict chuckled when she told him that it was not prompt, recognizing the contradiction of his words versus his actions and delay in complying with her request. Or demand. It made no different to him. He quite enjoyed her directness. And he was not one who felt the need to take lead and subdue any woman. He would be a fool to do so. Quite the opposite in fact; he relished in it. Once they got on the bed she further teased him when it came to the way he hadn't even looked to see where his boots ended up, and another huff of amusement escaped him. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Ironic," he began to say, kissing her between his words. "For I have a great deal less care for a garment that conceals you than for my footwear." Another playful remark before capturing her lips once more. Despit his actions of picking up her chemise, he hadn't been able to resist the tease -- one that held truth in saying that he cared little for it. He'd much rather she do without anything to cover her body. His eyes met hers, soft intent in his gaze as he silently praised her in all her beauty as her finger trailed over his nose and lips. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His expression only changed when she joked once more, prompting yet another chuckle from him. How was it so . . . easy and comfortable to be with someone? How was it so easy to shut out the rest of the world and focus only on this, on them in the time they had together. "I am relieved to hear that," he told her. "And that I need not worry about the state of your back at a later time." He paused for a moment, a playful expression of contemplation upon his features. "Well, not as much anyway," he added on, a suggestive tease as if implying that their relations may indeed still be vigorous. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He lowered his head, placing a light kiss on her lips, lowering to her chin, and moving across the side over her cheek, towards her ear. "Tell me what you desire," he breathed against it, pressing his cheek against hers in this position. His hand refusing to remain idle, moved in a repeated motion up and down her thigh to caress her skin, his other sliding down her chest to cup her breast in his hand. She had asked him a similar question during one of their times together and now, he wanted to hear her say it, the mere thought causing his arousal to build and yet . . . his thoughts remained in this moment of only pleasuring her. Giving her what she wanted. After all, as he previously recognized . . . tonight, they had time. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

"Is that so?" She questioned, a joyful lilt in her voice as she spoke, it felt carefree, easy, like so much else between them simplicity concealed the complicated nature of what happened between them, "and what would you have me wear then?" Her words were teasing and she smiled before pressing her lips to his neck, placing slow kisses along the column of his throat, mimicking how he had kissed her as he loosened the ties of her chemise moments earlier.

Genevieve had held arrangements similar to this with men and women alike before; but it had never felt quite as simple as this did. The way she felt she could speak with him without worry, without the need to guard her every word it was liberating. They both spent so much of their time concealing truths of themselves and with him she felt she could be who she was. She wanted to be right where she was, in the safety of his embrace where the world could not see what they had found. No matter what the future held for them Genevieve felt a need to protect what it was they had.

His laughter brought a smile to her lips, satisfaction filling her knowing she was the reason for his joy. "I'm flattered you were worried about me," Genevieve murmured agains this kiss, but the feeling which filled her was dangerously affectionate. This was becoming so much more than what it had once been and perhaps it was time for her to acknowledge it. But simply because it was time it did not mean she was ready to do so. Genevieve could not in good faith acknowledge what had changed and also let it continue. So confronting the joy which swelled in her heart as he laughed, as his playful words countered hers, as he kissed her... she was not ready, not yet.

She sighed softly feeling his lips move across her skin. Genevieve turned her head slightly, kissing his cheek, "You," she hummed, her voice low, the realisation of her words causing a brief furrow in her brow to appear and Genevieve exhaled, "I want you to kiss me, to touch me..." she pressed her lips to his cheek again, her fingers exploring his back pulling him closer towards her. There was a simplicity to her next words, a fondness in them she didn't try to push out of her voice as she spoke, it felt sincere, real and Genevieve sighed against his lips, "I desire you, Benedict."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

What would he have her wear. Oh such a question could not be helped but to be answered with sheer honesty. "Exactly what you are now." Which was, nothing at all. His voice was of course flirtatious, the same playful tone that was so easy to bring forth when in her company. There was more irony in his words . . . that she was a Modiste and that he preferred her in no clothing at all. "Does that hold too much irony?" He asked jokingly, silencing her to any immediate respond as he kissed her again, speaking aloud his previous thoughts. Something else that he was able to do with ease: not have to guard himself or his thoughts. Speak freely in front of her without fear of judgment or that she would spread word around the ton. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He let out a breathy moan of pleasure at the feeling of her kisses along his skin, enjoying every one as it left a trail of heat wherever she touched. He rather liked flattering her, knowing that he could flatter her as he obviously was not the first one who tried. But it was true. He did worry for her, though he may not voice it. It was her next answer to his question that he remained focused on, intently listening to what she would reveal about her desires. The response made his body build in anticipation, an eagerness to fulfil what she wanted for they would both derive pleasure from it. But it was her last statement that truly flooded him with sentiment, the seemingly simplistic phrase and yet it entailed so much. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ She desired him . . . and she spoke his name. Yet even in doing so, it did not feel unusual or unnatural. It sounded both foreign upon her tongue and familiar at the same time. The ease with which is escaped her lips, intentional and unapologetic. And he would not have it any other way. If nothing else, her words of wanting him to touch her, and kiss her and desire for him . . . just spurred him on. The way she said his name, spurred him on. And he longed to hear it repeated from her lips in the same unguarded fashion. He could find no words to respond for the reaction to her own had caused this building need to flood through him. He aligned his head to hers, capturing her lips yet again with fervent desire as a start of compliance. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ His hand holding her breast massaged it, eliciting a moan amidst the kiss at the pleasure it prompted. His other hand went between her legs, finger caressing the folds of her skin, his own chest heaving with desire as his breeches were filling out more from the desire that manifested itself and was made known in physical form. Breaking the contact of their mouths, his lips did not stray far from her body as he lowered his head, kissing over her collarbone towards her chest, resuming his earlier work when they were still standing. Only now, her entire body was exposed to him. His lips took the place of his hand upon her breast, kissing and capturing it between his lips, while his hand continued to remain between her legs, caressing her so that she may be slick with desire. Tag lennie3

                        the rules of society.

[lennie3]

It was most definitely ironic but her chance to confirm his suspicion did not come as he claimed her lips, causing her to gasp against him, lips parting to allow him access to deepen the kiss. They parted and she smiled, "I think there is a level of irony to your wish, but that does not mean I am opposed to giving you what you wish for," Genevieve mused, smug smile on her lips showing just how pleased she still was with their conversation. Her fingers moved from his shoulders to trail down his chest, over his abdomen to the ties of his breeches, "and dare I say it, rather unfair things considered," she pursed her lips, blowing out a small huff she pulled at the string tying his breeches around his waist.

Genevieve relished in the reaction she could bring from him, the way his moans rumbled in his chest, his breathing hot against her. Every bit of her skin touching his felt hotter than it ever did before, her body burning for his. The voice of reason in her mind was long since silenced, she didn't want to hear any thoughts of doubt now, she just wanted this moment with him. Moments with Benedict was all she'd ever had and Genevieve knew to cherish brief things, to hold them close to her heart and enjoy them while they were hers. In these moments, it was all that mattered.

Her words had been completely sincere, it was him she desired, his touch she wanted to feel against her skin, him. It surprised her with what ease his name fell from her lips. She had refrained from using his given name until now, he'd always been Bridgerton never Benedict. But it had felt simple, right even, as the name rolled off her tongue, and Genevieve could not explain what it was which had changed. When she saw him outside the safe confines of her home and the parties he frequented he could never be just Benedict but here, Genevieve found herself wanting him to be nothing more.

She knew nothing but him as he touched her. Benedict's hands moving across her skin; kneading and squeezing her breast as his other slipped between her legs. Her body responded to his touch, back arching into him as her legs parted ever so slightly and she clung to him, head falling back against the pile of pillows on her bed. She had told him what she wanted and it seemed he was no less inclined and giving her everything she had wished for and more. A quiet moan fell past her lips, it was a sound soon joined by many more as his fingers glided through the slick heat of her arousal.

"Benedict..." his name fell from her lips one more time, this time she was not as surprised by the ease of which she spoke it, of how it just made sense; this time it was a soft plea, a sigh falling from parted lips trapped between moans as one of her hands tangled in his hair, pulling lightly at his chestnut locks. Her other hand was still between them, slipping beneath his loosened breeches to touch him, light touches of her fingers brushing over his desire and Genevieve moaned, shifting slightly in his embracce to she could urge his breeches to slide off his hips, "I need you."

tag Benedict Bridgerton .