lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 7, 2021 17:24:35 GMT
Genevieve loathed the apology coming from his lips. It was not that she hated it in and of itself, it was merely the fact Benedict felt he needed to apolgize to her she could not accept. The history between them had barely had time to become history yet and despite it all there was nothing she could think of he needed to apologize for. If she was honest they had both used each other, at least in the beginning, and it had become more than simply the physical bliss intended and ultimately Genevieve had been unable to ignore the growing concerns in her mind. They had been going to far, too fast, getting too deeply intimate with one another in ways which would never work out well for either of them; she had needed to be the practical one, the realist forcing them to face the facts of the world they lived in.
But she could still hate his apparent need to apologize.
Her gaze followed his movements, watching as he dipped the cloth back into the bowl of water before wringing it out. She gasped lightly as she watched the water turn a pinkish hue, obviously tinted by the blood he wiped from her skin. Genevieve wondered how it had looked when she made her way to his home in Bloomsbury, suddenly grateful for the protection from view the darkness would have provided her.
It had been such a risk in the first place to even make her way over to his Bloomsbury residence. She had no assurance he had not spent the night at his mother's home, that he had not found his way into another bed. Genevieve had no fanciful dreams she had not shared his attentions with others, and now she did not have the slightest claim to his attention. But the idea of being alone had been haunting enough for her to risk the disappointment of him not wishing to see her on his doorstep. Though whether he had not wanted her there or not Genevieve knew his heart was far too kind to ever turn her away.
She sighed, whispering a quiet, "I'm sorry." She scoffed lightly at herself, she hadn't liked to hear his apology and the irony did not escape her, "blood is not the easiest to get out of any material," Genevieve frowned, and perhaps it was the professional in her who was displeased to see the handkerchief stained this way. But it was not a potentially ruined handkerchief she was sorry for and Genevieve hoped he knew that, that he could read between lines of her whispered words and understand they meant so much more than what was obvious. She realised she must have given him a fright showing up the way she had; after the last time they had seen each other her presence would have been the last thing he would expect, and in this state it could not have been anything but a shock.
The breath she let out when he confirmed to her she could stay was audibly relieved, a small smile, a happy smile, spreading on her lips and Genevieve's gaze found his, "thank you." She had wanted to stay. But it was no longer her place to assume she fit into his life, that there was a space for her in his home this way. All things considered her mere presence in his drawing room should have been intrusion enough but oh how she had hoped he would tell her she could stay. Her heart finally felt like it could settle in her chest with the knowledge she would be able to stay. Genevieve knew nothing between them would be possible to change, there were things in life and society which would always remain the way they were and the impossibility of a shared future between them was one of those things.
But for one more night Genevieve would revel in the bliss of his presence.
Genevieve chuckled softly. She had not expected him to keep many dresses around his bachelor lodgings. "I believe a shirt would be fine," she said, withdrawing her hand from his to pick at her dress, it was dirty and ripped in places and Genevieve scanned over the tears assessing them with a professional eye. From what she could tell it was nothing she should not be able to mend should she wish to do so, at this moment Genevieve was uncertain it was a dress she would ever wish to see again. At this very moment she could not think of anything better than getting out of it, "it would be nice to get out of this dress," the brunette mused, a contemplatory furrow in her brow and she pursed her lips.
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 7, 2021 16:47:59 GMT
Over the years Genevieve had found there were several benefits to keep her past secret, more elusive. Not only did the women of the ton enjoy a good mystery, so to not know everything about the modiste who created their gowns merely added a value to the frocks. Adding onto that a French accent and a past on the continent it had proved to be an even more definite success story, women of London unable to resist the (supposedly) French-born modiste's little boutique, all it had taken was a few of the well respected ladies taking a chance on her and since that moment Genevieve had been alright. She had more money to spend now than she had had as a child, the ability to support herself and the possibility to help her parents out simply because she had the means to do so.
But despite not having everything she had ever wished for her childhood had been happy... had it not? Genevieve had two loving parents who always ensured she had the best they could possibly give her. There had been hard times for them, but they had held together as a family and got through them. Even now she would write to them every now and then, despite her dishonesty and fabricated past Genevieve loved her parents. "I was," she said, the smile on her lips reminiscent of the years long since in the past, "we had times when we struggled, when things were not quite so easy but, we were a family through it all and I would not wish for my childhood to have been any different."
It was dangerously easy to talk to him like this, she felt comfortable opening up and Genevieve was not quite sure how he had managed this in the first place. His original question had been so simple and now she felt as if revealing most of what he'd ever want to know about her would not be so bad. "You don't need to apologize, Benedict," Genevieve insisted, fingers continuing to brush through his hair, it was soothing, the repetitive motion and perhaps even more so the knowledge that in this moment he was hers to touch so casually yet intimately.
"I'm flattered you want to know me," it was the truth, the dangerous and far too risky truth but it did not make it any less honest. She pushed the thoughts of how terrible it could be aside to smile, her voice warm with feeling as she spoke, "it would be terrible if you did not, as I wish to know you."
She felt her skin flush as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, pulling her lip between her teeth feeling the need to suppress the grin threatening to break onto her features. She was not sure if it was his actions or his words which had been the cause to the flush in her cheeks, but it was undeniably there regardless. |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 7, 2021 13:19:40 GMT
"I assure you, no one will hear a word from me," Genevieve smiled warmly, like Daphne she was well aware of the talk which took place in London, and like Daphne Genevieve knew how much women tended to talk when they visited her shop, taking offense to her concern was of no use. The last thing anyone would ever want was a woman like Portia Featherington spread such news around the ton, if Lady Featherington knew something soon everyone did.
"This is a joyous event of your lives and something a wife and husband should have the chance to tell the world," she meant it. The joy on Daphne's features over the development was quite obvious, and it seemed far too cruel anyone would think to take away her opportunity to share it with the world in her own time.
But Genevieve could at the very least ensure she would be far more comfortable in gowns which fit her growing form. Pregnancy was not state which needed the aid of becoming more uncomfortable through the assistance of tight clothing. "Did you have a number of items in mind you were interested in today?" The brunette asked, offering Dapne a smile as the young Duchess lamented over the dismissal of her maid for the day to take care of other errands, again rather understandable, time in London had to be limited with the duties she now had in her new role not only as a wife and expecting mother.
Genevieve nodded her understanding, "should you allow me to assist you I'm sure we can manage without her?" she offered, measuring tape over her shoulder. She guided Daphne towards the platform, "if you would please step over here, Your Grace." |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 6, 2021 20:02:39 GMT
She felt the bodice of her dress loosening and exhaled in relief; dresses were tied far too tightly for it to be comfortable in injury. It was something she perhaps should take into consideration in her profession, then again Genevieve was rather sure she did not make many dresses for women who found themselves in the situation she had, or at least she hoped she did not. She knew she was lucky her injuries were not worse, that she had merely been mugged, but it did not make the ache in her bones feel any less painful.
Even as Benedict insisted she did not need to thank him Genevieve was happy she had done so, because despite his words she felt the need to. Appearing on his doorstep was awkward at best. There was no way Benedict wasn't feeling the tension between them and it was such a difference from the playful simplicity which they had always shared in one another's company. Despite the strange feeling between them she did not wish she was anywhere else she would want to be. In this moment Genevieve wanted to feel safe, and for a long time Benedict had made her feel safe, made her feel happy.
Genevieve's eyes fluttered close as Benedict pressed a kiss to her forehead. The casual show of affection was so familiar between them but after all which had happened it caused her heart to clench painfully. Pressing her lips together tightly she forced a faint smile, keeping her eyes closed to avoid the evidence of the ingenuity of her smile. She couldn't help but feel relieved as he drew back to prepare the cloth with water, opening her eyes as she felt it dabbed against her brow, wiping across her skin and Genevieve hissed softly as it brushed over the cut.
"I am comfortable, please do not go out of your way to accomodate me more than you already are," Genevieve said, her voice wavering. They had grown so much closer during their time together and now she hated to space which existed between them. She twisted in her seat and winced, "or perhaps not that comfortable," she changed sheepishly, grimacing and instinctively Genevieve grabbed his hand, squeezing it. She didn't want to leave, while she didn't wish to burden him the thought of leaving his home tonight made her feel cold inside. Lightening her hold on his hand but not letting go Genevieve furrowed her brow, casting her gaze onto her lap, "can I stay? Just one night, I... do not wish to be alone after tonight." |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 6, 2021 19:16:56 GMT
Talking to Benedict about herself, about her past, it was all so much easier than she had ever expected it could have been. It was easier than it should've been. Genevive felt comfortable around him, blissfully content and unafraid to be herself around him. They lived in a world where expectations were based on your social status rather than anything else anyone would ever accomplish. So, for Benedict to ask her about her accomplishments, whether his intentions were genuine care or curiosity Genevieve was touched by it. She enjoyed this, this calm and undeniable sense of security they had found with each other, it was nice and Genevieve wanted to have nice for a while.
But it also got her thinking and the brunette pursed her lips, her finger stilling in his hair as she seized combing her fingers through it. From the moment she had been able to walk she had also been able to thread a needle. Genevieve had spent as much of her childhood as she could remember helping her mother mend clothes and sow hems, the only difference from the stories she'd tell about her supposed past was the location, most of the rest remained true. But she had always had a path laid out so very clear ahead of her, and while her mother had never pushed her into her profession it had always been the only future she had been able to see for herself. Now that he posed the question she didn't know for sure, whether it was her dream or if she had simply done what her mother had not been able to do.
"That is a wonderful way of thinking of it," Genevieve said with a small smile, "I suppose I never considered it like that before, I like to think she was happy with the business she had, perhaps she wanted more but I do like to think she was happy with the life we all had together," opening up the way she was felt strange, she was so used to dropping little secretive facts about a childhood in France to charm her clientele. But while it felt unusual to not do it for the purpose of charming anyone, it was nice, talking to Benedict like this was nice, "I don't know if it was my dream then, but it became my dream with time."
Genevieve smiled, twisting to drop a kiss to his cheek, "thank you," she hummed, "I believe coming from you those words mean far more than from anyone else." She meant it. Genevieve valued his opinions, quite possibly more than she should've; his company, his thoughts, what he wanted and needed in life, she cared about it all and it was all of importance to her.
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 5, 2021 19:40:57 GMT
Sinking into the couch Genevieve watched him with heavy eyes as he darted around the room; had she had the energy it might have even caused her to laugh as she saw him empty out a bowl of potpourri onto the table in his rush to tend to her. She was touched by it, truly, after all which had happened between them her presence in his home was not what she was sure either of them had expected. Genevieve had not intended to see him again, when she ended things between them it would simply be the easiest thing to not see him. But tonight, after what happened, all Genevieve had been able to think of was his eyes, the kindness in his words and gentleness of his touch, and all her previous intentions had become irrelevant.
Genevieve watched as the look of gentle concern in his eyes hardened, and it felt nice in a way to see the hint of anger in his eyes as she concluded her retelling of the events that had occurred. She had gone to him because he'd always made her feel safe, because there had been a level of comfort and ease between them since the moment they met. Now, even as it was over, it was difficult to part from the feeling of security when she needed it so. Genevieve had never been frightened to conduct her own business, to lead her life without allowing fear to dictate her actions and she had never watched for threats in dark alleys. Now her own recklessness had brought her back to Benedict.
She shifted on the couch, teeth sinking into her lip to stop a wince from slipping out as she sat up. The feeling of his fingers tugging against the ties of her dress felt like second nature and there had been a time when she would respond with a coy smile while arching into his touch. Now her body seemed to want to move away from his touch, even as she nodded, "of course," Genevieve whispered quietly, feeling the tension between them was foreign and quite frankly she didn't like it. But wishing things could have been different between them had not been a solution for any of the issues standing between them and it would not aid her to slip back into hopeful wishes now. Letting her hand fall to cover his she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, smiling softly, "thank you, Benedict, for this... for helping me." |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 5, 2021 18:59:04 GMT
Goosebumps rose across her skin as he brushed his fingers over her, her head tucked in the side of his neck as a soft laugh erupted from her lips. This was comfortable, not only lying on here bed, but lying there with him sharing gentle touches and whispered words simply because raising their voices any louder wasn't required. It was all dangerously perfect as she remained closely tucked against him, feeling nothing but content to just be in his company.
As Benedict shifted, making himself more comfortable, Genevieve's body followed as if it was second nature to move with him, to rest her head against his chest. With a small smile she drew patterns across his skin with her fingertips, tilting her head back to press a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, "I mean exactly that," she hummed, her tone of voice fond and warm, "trouble," Genevieve declared. He and his charming smile may definitely have been sporting a danger to her sanity but sacrificing beforementioned sanity did not seem like amuch of a loss.
But giving up her sanity felt safer than the question he posed and Genevieve hated to admit she froze in his arms for a moment. it wasn't that she didn't want to tell him, but sharing details about herself had never been something she'd been good at. Genevieve hid so much, concealed every part of herself which was not carefully constructed. Here with Benedict however she was surprised by how easy the idea of telling him everything he would want to know really was, how much she wanted him to know her beyond how her body responded to his touch. Genevieve sat up, somewhat reluctantly, fluffing up the pillows as she settled back against them. She smiled, "it's been six years now," she pushed her fingers through his hair as she spoke, combing through chestnut locks, "a shop like this was all ma mére ever talked about when I was a little girl."
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 5, 2021 0:37:53 GMT
A gasp passed her lips as his door swung open, she had expected to see him of course, it was his home, and yet the moment she laid her eyes on him she felt the emotions rush through her. “Benedict,” she echoed his sentiment in a soft voice, nerves that didn’t quite suit her apparent. Genevieve held back, not moving until he pulled her inside, until she was in his arms yet again and tilting her head back she met his gaze finding nothing but gentle concern in his eyes and she forced a small smile, fingers grasping at his shirt. Genevieve opened her mouth, trying to speak and instead she shook her head, dropping her forehead to his shoulder as her eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
Showing up like this on his doorstep was not something Genevieve was sure of even as she had made her way there, even as she had knocked, and even now as she was in his arms. It was not an embrace, not a tender moment where he held her like he once had, this was concern for her wellbeing. But she’d take it. Somehow instinct had brought her to him and Genevieve simply knew she had needed his presence regardless of the pain and complication it brought around to see him again.
Benedict swooped her into his arms and it felt like muscle memory as she settled against him, hands holding onto him as he cradled her, carrying her further into his home. He set her down and her hands loosened around him, brushing over the material of the soft shirt as she did so. Genevieve reached for his hand, forcing her eyes to stay open, to remain on his, “I was doing some business by the docks, picking up a few items I need for the shop,” she began carefully, choosing her words delicately, “I have done it so many times before, and yet now... I believe this is more a result of their displeasure I did not have much on my person for them to take from me,” the words, the insecurity of them, it all sounded so very unlike her. She did not provide much details on the physical harm she had endured, it felt too difficult to put into words and taking the concern etched onto his features into account Benedict seemed able to tell. |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 4, 2021 23:33:29 GMT
From the first moment she acknowledged his presence at Henry’s libertine party Genevieve had reckoned with the fact Benedict Bridgerton would never be hers to keep. For a period of time he had been hers to enjoy and she had most definitely enjoyed him. The connection between them had been physical at first, a shared wit and attraction pushing them together in a way which had never felt forced. But somewhere along the way it had grown, they had grown comfortable not only with pleasure from sharing a bed but in their conversations, in silent bliss and honest truths. Through it all Genevieve fought with the knowledge he would not be hers to hold onto, she would perhaps marry but it would not be him, and when it had ended a sensible part of her had always known it had been the only possible outcome.
Benedict was not hers to want and need, and yet tonight he was the only person on her mind. Her entire adult life Genevieve had prided herself on her independence. She approached life with a carefully constructed air of invincibility. And tonight she had become so aware of just how faulty and far from the truth that really was. The seamstress knew very well how much worse the situation may have been had it been slightly different. But she had done business late in a part of London which did not do well to dwell in as the darkness began to set and yet in her own feelings of grandeur it was exactly what she had done.
But oh if she had not paid the price for it when she encountered the pair, their desperation for more, for something better driving them to violence as they took whatever valuables she had on her and seemingly punished her for not having more before they disappeared into the night.
Never in a million years had Genevieve expected this was how her night would end, that she would find herself on her former lover’s doorstep wincing in pain with every step she took. For a moment she considered turning away again, of catching a carriage and making her way to her own flat, to not open this door. But aside from the ache her injuries brought her mind, her soul, ached for him. Genevieve flinched, body aching as she walked up the steps to his front door, flexing her hand in hesitation before knocking on the heavy door. Blood trickled from her eyebrow down the side of her face, she felt her jaw throbbing most likely already swelling, ribs aching and she favored her right side. But more than anything as she waited for the door to swing open she felt her heart beating hard and quick in her chest, anxious need swelling inside her.
No Benedict Bridgerton had not been hers to keep, but right now she needed him. |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 3, 2021 22:12:33 GMT
Her mind did not need to understand his because her body quite clearly understood his, and that was all they needed. This thing between them needed to remain physical. Standing invitations and flowers aside this was what they had, a mutually beneficial physical arrangement. Genevieve was sure they were on the same page and yet while she was very much on that page she had been charmed by the flowers, she had been nervous to know he’d be in her home, she had looked forward to seeing him. She had even started searching him out consciously in crowds at parties and perhaps it was all that causing her to insist to herself this was just physical need.
None of her concerns mattered as he spilled into her hand and Genevieve kissed his neck, whispering soft words of encouragement against his skin before taking her hand off him. She reached for the sheets, wiping her hand over them before settling her head against his heaving chest and she smiled, feeling the smug grin taking its place across her features.
Benedict spoke and Genevieve lifted her head to look at him, laughter bursting from her lips and she pressed the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip as she laughter morphed into a fond smile, “that smile is trouble,” she informed him, her voice reverent as she spoke. She would have insisted she was right had anyone protested, it was roguishly charming, a hint of boyish carefreeness in his expression she was quite sure she could get high off of given the chance. Feeling a smile form on her own lips Genevieve kissed the corner of his mouth before speaking, “in part, I was thinking we’d save something for later,” she teased lightly, curling against him, she just wanted to enjoy the comfort of his company for a moment.
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 3, 2021 21:40:37 GMT
Genevieve sighed softly, her other hand curling into his hair, soft chestnut locks like silk between her fingers. Benedict pulled away slightly to speak and she hummed softly, not relying on words to answer him as her hand continued its motions. She forced her eyes to open, yearning to see the expression on his face, eyes hooded and lips parted close to her own. Smiling she leaned in to close the small distance, pressing quick and small kisses to his lips as her hand continued to stroke his length. The need felt between them was reckless and perhaps even enhanced by the dangerous risk it came with. He had no future in the bed they currently occupied, Genevieve did not want him to have one. She stood by her claim that Benedict Bridgerton was a fun way to spend her free time; she could not allow him to be more.
The brunette whimpered softly against him, melting into his touch. Genevieve could feel her pleasure build, fingers tightening in his hair as she gasped against his lips. Her own strokes over his length slowed down, became lighter in touch for a moment as her kisses grew more urgent. Her own pleasure filled release was approaching fast, her body melting into his every touch, moans spilling from her lips each time his fingers curled lightly. The euphoric release washed over her and Genevieve tucked her face into his neck, lips pressed against his skin as rocked her hips against his touch, her soft moans urging him to let go.
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Tag me @genevive
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 3, 2021 16:47:25 GMT
If they could stay in this bed for the rest of their days Genevieve was quite sure they would find a way to occupy their time. It was becoming increasingly easy to simply just be in his company and that frightened her more than anything else developing between them. Even now as her touch was almost lazy, drawing moans from him she never wanted to forget hearing, it was all so very simple. Genevieve had never suspected simplicity would be something so dangerous in her life, but the comfort and joy she simply felt from his presence was proving her wrong at an urgent speed.
Feeling his hand slip between them, fingers brushing over her skin and she sighed, a small shiver running through her and Genevieve dropped her head to his shoulder with a sigh of his name. "So touch me," she hummed, her voice soft, pleading, as his fingers teased at her folds and Genevieve inhaled sharply. She hadn't intended to let him touch her now, had wanted to touch him, to take her time, tease him, pleasure him, but she was learning quickly resisting Benedict was not as easy as it should've been. In fact everything would have been much easier had he been easier to resist. Her body responded to his touch immediately, a soft mewl of a moan falling from her lips and Genevieve's mouth find his, kissing him eagerly as her fingers wrapped to pump around him eagerly. |
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lennie.
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Jun 18, 2021 14:45:04 GMT
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 3, 2021 16:08:12 GMT
Genevieve sat back, she watched with a kind smile as Daphne struggled with her words and it was easy to see the youth in the woman sitting before her. Their society had a way of thinking of women as suddenly grown the moment they married, they never considered it might take some time for girls to grow into their roles as wives, as women and caretakers of a household. She was sure their mothers prepared them best they could but it seemed cruel to assume preparation without real practice, tossed out in the world without their mama, would be all they needed.
At Daphne's words she offered a smile, "I see," she hummed, the smile warming further as the genuine reason for her visit to the shop was revealed. She smiled at the sight of her swelling middle, the bump was barely noticeable and yet Genevieve could see how the fabric tensed around her. "I believe first of all congratulations are in order," she smiled warmly.
"Now I believe we need to do something about those dresses," she said, standing up to fetch her measuring tape, she had old measurements of Daphne Bridgerton written down somewhere but those would hardly be a match for Daphne Basset in this state, "first off I will need some measurements and then if you would please choose a few fabrics and we'll make sure you can be comfortable while expecting." |
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lennie.
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 1, 2021 20:21:14 GMT
Protecting the secrets her clients wanted to keep from each other, and sometimes their husbands as well, was important to Genevieve. So when Daphne lowered her voice into a soft tone, her voice only just above a whisper Genevieve knew exactly how delicate she would need to handle the situation. With a warm smileon her lips she ushered Daphne further into the shop, "If speaking privately is what you require, then privately we shall speak," Genevieve insisted, guiding her to a couple of seats, "please, have a seat and I will be right back with you."
Genevieve returned to the front of the shop, it took her a few minutes and far more compliments to ensure the shop emptied of people. Escorting a young lady and her lady's maid out of the shop with a polite smile and promise to ensure her new gown would be ready by the following weekend. The brunette exhaled deeply, turning the lock on the door before returning to the back.
While Genevieve cherished all of her customers a duchess held a slightly larger edge towards many other ladies of the ton. It carried a little bit more weight, not to mention while she had been Daphne Bridgerton the young woman sitting before her had been nothing but gracious and polite, so if she required a little bit of privacy and Genevieve had had to more or less kick a few women out that was not the end of the world. Besides, dressing a duchess would make up for any tiffs she may have just caused. So smiling warmly at Daphne she asked, "what can I do for you?" |
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lennie.
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Post by lennie3 on Apr 1, 2021 17:56:03 GMT
This here was what she had desired for longer than Genevieve would care to admit to either herself or anyone else. She had wanted time with him. Time to lay next to him, to talk to explore his body and mind, and just time to be with Benedict. They hadn't quite had only stolen moments, their moments had just not been so serene, so simple in a sense. There had always been a rush, something else to get to, a something which pushed them to get dressed and leave in separate directions. Now he was in her bed and there was no rush, it was just them.
Genevieve sighed softly against his lips as his hand tangled in her hair, holding her close to him as they shared a kiss. She wouldn't grow tired of doing that, possibly ever. Her hand continued to move around his length, fingers curling around him as she stroked him slowly. Leaning back slightly she watched him with a small smile, eyes closed and lips parted to moan her name. Feeling her breath hitch in her throat as he moaned her name, if she could only hear that sound in her life she'd be fine with it, and with a joyous smiled on her lips as she leaned in, closing the small distance between them. Genevieve could feel his length thickening in her hand, and she brushed her lips against his, moaning his name as she did.
She had never had time like this with him before, it was always rushed hands tearing off their clothes and quickly sating their passions. This was different, they were both taking their time and Genevieve would have argued it was close to addictive. Every other little moment they had chased felt like just that, a chase. This felt like finally reaching the end of the chase, and she had never considered time to be of such importance to her. Time with Benedict did matter to her, it was far more fun to not have to dash out of a room to enjoy a drink with a friend; when it came to him she'd rather stay. |
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