peak of interest • benedict bridgerton

fifteen • a tribute to beauty

"Oh, no." She said, more out of reflex, than anything else. "You can't."

"Oh, but I can. I assure you."

"But- ohhhh." Her brain seemed to fly out the window, fixing her thoughts on the mans fingers. She began thinking of how utterly naughty this was and how she very much did not want him to stop. "What are you doing to me?" She gasped, her every muscle tightening as he moved his fingers.

"Everything." He returned, capturing her lips with his. "Anything you want."

"I want- ohh!"

"Like that, do you?" His words were murmured against her cheek.

"I don't know what I want." She breathed.

"I do." He moved to her ear, nibbling softly on her lobe, "I know exactly what you want. Trust me."

And it was as easy as that. She gave herself over to him completely- not that she hadn't been nearly to that point already. She was ready for this. She trusted Benedict Bridgerton.

His clothes finally gone, he lay back on top of her, pausing for a shuddering moment to just feel her beneath him. He was hard as a rock, harder than he could ever remember.

He snaked a hand between them and touched her. She was ready- more than ready for him. He slipped one finger inside of her- grinning with satisfaction as her entire body jerked and tensed around him.

"That's very-" her voice was very raspy, her breathing labored, "very-"

"Strange?"

She nodded.

"You'll get used to it." He promised. "I plan to get you very used to it."

Gently parting her legs with his thigh, he kissed her neck, roughly squeezing her leg as he positioned himself between her thighs and nudged at her entrance.

Noticing her parted lips, "trust me." He said, the words mumbled against her lips. Slowly, she felt him entering her.

She was being stretched,

invaded,

and yet she couldn't say it felt bad.

He touched her cheek, "you look serious."

"I'm trying to decide how this feels." She admitted.

"If you have the presence of mind to do that, then I'm certainly not doing a good enough job." Startled, she looked up. He was smiling at her, that crooked grin that never failed to reduce her to mush. "Stop thinking so hard." He whispered.

"Oh!" and then her eyes rolled back as she arched up beneath him.

Benedict buried his head in her neck so she wouldn't see his amused expression. It seemed the best way to keep her from over analyzing was to make her feel the pure sensation- to keep moving.

He winced- he had never been with a virgin before. He heard it hurt, but surely if he was gentle, it would go smoother for her.

He moved inexorably forward, sliding in and out till he reached the fragile barrier of her maidenhead.  He looked down. Her face was flushed, and her breath was rapid.

"This might hurt," he warned.

"I don't care."

Benedict leaned down for one final, searing kiss as his hips surged forwards. He felt her stiffen beneath him as he broke through her maidenhead, and he bit- he actually bit his hand to keep the whole house from hearing him, and to discourage climaxing at that very moment.

She did this to him.

Only her.

Gritting his teeth against him baser urges, Benedict began to move within her. "Sevyn," he kept groaning to remind himself that this time was for her. To please her needs.

It would be perfect.

It had to be perfect.

He needed her to love this.

He needed her to love him.

She was quickening beneath him, and every wiggle, every squirm whipped up his own frenzy of desire. He was trying to be extra gentle for her, but she was making it so damn hard to to hold back.

Her hands were everywhere- on his hips, on his back, squeezing his shoulders.

"Sev..." he moaned again. He couldn't hold off much longer. He wasn't noble enough. He wasn't-

"Ohhh." She convulsed beneath him, her body arching off the bed as she screamed. Her fingers bit into his back, nails raking his skin as he quickly moved to cover her mouth with his hand.

Without thinking, and noting her release, Benedict could no longer refrain.

He exploded. There was no simpler word for it.

He couldn't stop moving. Couldn't stop shaking, and then, in an instant, he collapsed.

Unable to move a single muscle.

He should say something, tell her something about how wonderful it was. But his tongue felt thick and his lips felt heavy, and on top of that, he could barely open his eyes. He was only a man.

"Benedict?" She whispered.

He ran his thumb along her waist, signifying that her heard her.

"Is it always like this?"

He shook his head, hoping that she'd feel the notion and know what it meant.

She sighed, and seemed to sink, "I didn't think so."

Benedict kissed the side of her head, which was all he could reach. No, it wasn't always like this. He dreamt of her often within the passed month, but this... this...

This was more than dreams.

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*credit to Julia Quinn*

From "An Offer from a Gentleman"