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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.

He was good with his sisters, and Sophie liked watching him at ease with them. She had to fight to keep from holding his gaze if he looked her way, as it was growing hard not to wish things were different. Not to think about how she felt. It was growing harder to remember why she had to be strong.

She had to protect herself.
She had to protect them both.

The first rain drop hit her cheek, and she looked up at the sky knowing what was about to happen. Hurrying over to the table, she began moving plates around to try to save anything that she could, or at least not let it begin a gopping mess on the table that would be mushy to clean. The rain began to pour harder, and she knew it was going to be pointless. Feeling a hand on her's, her heart skipped a beat as she knew without looking that it was him. The tug on her hand made her leave the dishes, and Sophie was both surprised and not that he pulled her away from the house.

The rain felt cool on her heated skin, and the moment he kissed her the heat turned to fire. Inhaling sharply, her lips parted and let him in. Her hands moved up grasp his arms to balance her, and try to keep from bursting. Without a thought she pressed up on her toes to reach him better, stepping closer to his warmth and touch.

He broke the kiss, resting his face to hers. Her breathing was rapid as she tried to pull in enough air to replace what he had stolen. And in this moment, this perfect stole moment that should never end, and should never have happened--he joked of being ill. Anything left on her lips was kissed away, and her small arms reached up to wrap around his neck, holding him close to her. "Do not joke," she demanded between stolen kisses, "I could not bare you so ill again."

Pain is Weakness

Kiss + 1... in the rain.

Where was he!? He was sick, and should be in bed after the fever he had, and now everyone was looking for him. Sophie left the house to see if he had wondered outside. She knew that he was not still so ill that he would nor know what he was doing--which was why it was so odd that he was missing.

Hearing some splashing, she turned and talked down the path toward what she found was a small--OH MY GOOD NIGHT HE WAS NAKED! Jumping slightly, Sophie froze and then stumbled over to land behind a tree. He was swimming! Naked! Out in the open!

She knew she should leave. She knew it! Yet . . . yet the chance to look once more was tempting. She should make sure he was alright! Yes, he had been ill, she would just check and then leave. Turning to look out from behind the tree once more, she found herself watching him swim in the water.

She was wasn't sure how long she watched for but eventually he seemed to pick up on that he wasn't alone any more. Jerking her body behind the tree, the waited. Even after he CALLED HER NAME! HOW DID HE KNOW?? She stayed hidden! Maybe he would leave and she could sneak back to the house?

She was. Avoiding him that was. She had too. They could not be together like he wished, and letting herself spend that time with him would weaken herself against the need to stay strong. Giving in to him would make her his mistress, and she could not be anything more than that--and she could not be that.

"I am well, and yourself?" Causal words, that masked what she really wanted to ask him. She glanced behind him to see if the door was opened to closed. He wanted to know if she was avoiding him, and Sophie almost did not answer. The longing to ignore it was strong, but if she did, the he would not know why. "You it is best that I do." Her eyes moved over his face. "For us both."

Her escaped (however feeble it was) was foiled when he grabbed the sheet and pulled her back! Laughing silently, she soon founder herself with more kisses, and his lips once again moving over her skin. Memories of where that had just led too, and where it could led too again, caused her to lean into the kisses, and almost (almost!) lift her knee up to the bed and let him make them late.

It was so tempting!

"Your reward, husband, will depend on how quickly you find me . . . and where you find me at." Her words came soft, and almost whispered as his lips reached her ear. It felt so wonderful to be in his arms, and have his hands on her. She almost (almost!) forgot about the ball. However, she could not let herself be anything less than perfect tonight. Lady Whistledown and his mother would be there! She wished to impress them both. "Benedict, we will be late." She protected, and forced herself to move back once again, though it was clear it was harder to do this time.