The single candle left flickering on the end table, illuminated the bedchamber in a delicate glow. One that danced with a soft beam of rich citrine across the surrounding walls of deep burgundy red, while shadows of the night lingering on the other side of the clasped window, trailed behind the cast of light like climbing twists of ivy.
The atmosphere of the bedchamber was warm with a hint of humidity, a comfortable warmth that was welcome across the bareness of your exposed flesh. The heat that touched upon the air you inhaled in soft breaths, was not in part to the season, as the notion of summer had yet to even dance across the thoughts of spring. The late evening still captivated by a brisk chill, that in the early break of morning revealed itself in the softest drops of dew upon the petals of recently bloomed flora. Rain continued to wash over the cobblestone square in the late days of April, in hopes that it might bring forth more budding flowers in May. Spring was very much still in the air, but in the confines of the intimate and cozy bedchamber of Anthony Bridgerton's private lodgings, the darkness of the night outside the curtain drawn window concealed the season from your view. For it could be snowing in the streets and you wouldn't have the slightest clue.
Anthony Bridgerton's previously adorned "bachelor" lodgings, did not differ far from the picture you had painted in your head of such a space. For the walls that were saturated in the deepest shade of burgundy red, did not surprise you, but rather made you smile when your eyes fell upon the bedchamber walls for the first time. It was a masculine shade, a warm but undeniably strong hue that seemed to fit Anthony's personal taste. Along with the deep oak wood furniture scattered around the rooms, and golden accents that swirled itself in locations you were still discovering, the place and more specifically the bedchamber itself, spoke boisterously of Anthony. You hadn't a doubt that this temporary home was his own and that every inch of it was touched by his hand and keen eye.
Although Anthony had assured you on the coach ride over, that the living arrangements were only for the duration of your honeymoon and perhaps a week or two more, you found that you didn't mind much. For Bridgerton House was without a doubt lovely and you knew that the day you both moved in there, that you would be just as happy. Although neither yourself or Anthony had any rush for sweet Lady Bridgerton to move out, even as she objected and tried to explain that she must get out of their now marital space, Anthony hadn't a word of it. But as you prepared to enjoy your newly acquired marital bliss in Anthony's private lodgings, you rather preferred it here for the time being. For every inch of the place felt like him, and in turn, you felt strangely closer to the man you could now call your husband.
The night was nearly silent, as it bathed the city in a soft blanket of black that would surely dissipate at the first sign of dawn. The window was clasped shut, as Anthony worried for even the slightest wind that may leave you with a chill in the middle of the night, and loose linen curtains of a sheer white material covered the glass. The room was relatively small, a smaller space than Anthony had grown up in you were sure, but even as the four walls around you stretched in a wide hug of warming red, the space felt intimate. It didn't feel as though you swam within the structure, but rather you felt anchored in the large bed pressed up against the far wall. Resting comfortably against a pillow that smelled of his cologne, wrapped in thin white sheets that were warmed by the radiating heat of his nearby body and titling your head upwards a mere fraction, your eyes found him in an instant.
Sleep had found him quickly, as your passionate exertions of the hours before, had left him with a creeping exhaustion that curled itself around his bones. A slumber you were certain that you yourself would find just as easily as Anthony had, however when you went to close your eyes as the soft flutters of his stilled breath floated across the nape of your neck, you felt more awake than you were only minutes before. For as he fell asleep, leaving you the only soul in the room awake to your own thoughts, every transpiring event of the day washed over your mind as though they were a collection of your fresh memories, flipping at lightening speed over and over again in ever crevice of your conscious.
From the fresh break of dawn that woke you to your last morning in your mother's home, as a young woman standing on the threshold of marriage and a life far greater than you could ever hope to fathom, to the fall of the night. Casting over the building tops and across the streets, as Anthony Bridgerton clasped your hand tenderly in his own as he walked in tandem with your timid steps into your new and now shared bedchamber. It was a day of endless changes and chances, a day of anxieties and overwhelming joy, a day full of the love you had always envisioned for yourself should you be only so lucky to find it.
And you found it, residing right there in the beating heart of Anthony Bridgerton himself, and you couldn't help but begin to wonder how you ever lived without it.
Shifting slowly to lay on your side as you rested your left cheek against the soft pillow, feeling as the thin sheets pulled around your bare body, your eyes peered up at his sleeping form. Anthony rested still upon his back, the linen sheets that bunched around your chest fell lower against his own bare frame. Loosely sprawled across his lower abdomen in a nearly sheer curtain, as his chest lay exposed to the warm air that swirled around you and the steady rhythm in the rise and fall of his sternum was clear to your wandering eye.
It was the very first time you had the chance to witness Anthony's state of slumber and it took you by surprise at first, how utterly peaceful he appeared to sleep. For even as relaxed and affectionate as he was with you, Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was indisputably wound tightly. Stress and intensity wove its way into the faint lines against his face and the emotions he hid away from the world were worn right there on the sleeve of his arm, lingering just below the surface for any opportunity to appear in a burst of fervor.
But here he was, bathed in the delicate glow of the low flickering candlelight, sleeping as though the world itself had left him unscathed. For the creases that had begun to bend the skin in the corners of his eyes, smoothed as if they had never touched down upon his flesh to start with. The furrow that seemed to be an integrated foundation for his deep set brows, slacked and they were finally released from the tight and unrelenting bend. The stilled line that captivated his sculpted lips more often than not, were relaxed with the soft parting that flittered light breaths between them. And as you stared at the face of your peacefully sleeping husband, you swore the edges of his lips were curved in the faintest ghost of a smile.
Stretching your leg beneath the sheet, feeling as the pads of your bare foot grazed against the warm flesh of Anthony's calf, an unaccustomed ache soared through the lower half of your body. A soreness that resulted in an immediate rush of bright burning red into the swell of your cheeks. Your eyes shut tightly at the memories that instantly flooded back into your mind like a crashing tidal wave, as your face proceeded to roll further into the welcome downy feel of your pillow. It was not only the first time that you were able to witness Anthony's sleeping form, but rather your first time for everything.
Your wedding night was a notion that lingered in the air like an impending storm cloud, all throughout your season it hovered as a topic obvious across the horizon, but never once acknowledged. Not until the very night before you said "I do" did your mother finally broach the subject, with the softest hands and rather frightful apprehension. What she believed she could pass on to you as knowledge upon the topic, the things she thought you may need to know, never even skimmed the surface to the physical pursuits your new husband introduced you to. You were not as innocent as some debutants, with brothers who divulged things in moments they weren't aware your ears were listening, but knowing the ways of men and the acts that followed marriage, was in no way the same as feeling them for yourself. Staring up at him, as you peeked your eyes open and lifted them slowly from the safety of your pillow, the flush in your cheeks was relentless in it's strong burning hue of a beaming cherry red.
Anthony's eyelashes continued to flutter in soft bounds across the slightly tanned skin of his cheekbones, a minimal movement that perhaps spoke to the dreams that ensued in the deepest cavity of his beautiful mind. His neck twisted in the faintest fashion, as his cheek rested with the softest brush of his ear against his own pillow as his face overlooked in your direction. As though even in sleep, he was drawn to look at you. It was a position that was bound to leave him with an unwelcome kink of two in the crook of his neck, but you let him continue to sleep, not having the heart to dare wake him from such a tranquil slumber.
The flickering candlelight casted a timid glow against his skin, illuminating the softness that etched itself across his peaceful expression, a tenderness that somedays he so desperately needed. It wasn't always easy for people to see Anthony's heart, as his exterior appeared jaded and rather intimidating, but you had. It was a beautiful heart, one that beat for his family harder than any other heart could possibly beat. It bled for them, with emotions that were so deeply rooted in the very muscle, it was as though the emotions that were somedays too strong for his own good, were a very part of his foundation. It was a protective heart, generous and compassionate, but you realized today that your favorite thing about it, was that you now owned a piece of it.
Sometimes Anthony Bridgerton didn't quite seem real, as though the way he loved you was more than this universe could ever create. Today, appearing as the biggest example to such a notion. From the dawn that woke you to the moment you found yourself awake for now, as you rested in bed beside your husband, it felt as though you had strolled through the entire day in a dream. As though if your lashes were to flutter shut and the dreams Anthony dreamed beside you were to find you as well, that when you woke with the new dawn everything of this day and everything shared with Anthony would simply disappear.
Lifting your right hand that laid on top of the sheets nestled tightly around your bare frame, your fingertips abandoned the shadows and slowly entered the single beam of glinting candlelight. Feeling the slight growth of heat from the burning flame, as the pad of your index finger gingerly touched upon the illuminated skin of Anthony's cheekbone. The softest pressure you could muster, as though the very brush of your fingertips were that of a butterfly landing upon a freshly bloomed lily. Careful not to wake the man who slept beneath your tender touch, but unable to withhold your chary caress.
For you stared up at Anthony's sleeping frame and simply couldn't help but reach your hand out towards him. Perhaps, it was your way of reminding yourself that he was real and right there in bed beside you. As though by the timid touch of your fingertips grazing against his warm flesh, the dream like essence that Anthony had exuded throughout the day, would suddenly be solidified in reality by a single touch.
The softest smile slowly expanded across the curled corners of your lips, pulling the bottom one inward by the slight grasp of your teeth, beaming at not only the pure sight of your sleeping husband, but the way his face looked when your fingertips danced upon it. Anthony Bridgerton had ravaged your body in the low waning hours of the evening, as though an animal was unleashed from it's restraints. But now, as you watched the softest flutter of his breaths passing through his parted lips, as his eyelashes danced in faint movements across his cheekbones, it was as if he was suddenly the gentlest creature to ever inhabit the Earth.
As the soft pads of your fingertips slowly glided down his cheek, trailing down his smooth flesh and brushing against the thick nature of his soft sideburns, your thumb halted when it fell against the edge of his lips. Feeling the nearly imperceptible crease of a smile shadowing beneath the touch of your hand, as the pad of your thumb pressed ever so delicately against his full bottom lip. Allowing for the heat of his breath, that funneled through the parted crack of his softly tinted pink lips, to absorb into the skin of your thumb. The small ridges and chapped edges of his lips smoothed as you gingerly ran your thumb against the swell of his bottom lip, watching with an attentive gaze at your tender movements, in an effort to keep him from waking. Feeling the warmth of his lips and the fullness that had captured yours barely an hour before, made you ever the more aware to the burn that swelled beneath the surface of your own.
For as you released your bottom lip from your gently biting grasp, the fervor in which Anthony had kissed your lips, still tingled as though they were still there. The blood rushing with a strong thumping sensation, that made them swell with the similar shade of red still flooding throughout your cheeks. The memory of his kiss was seared against the surface of your lips, but the power of his touch was burned far below.
A low rumble startles you, shaking you from your thoughts that had slipped into the form of a daydreaming haze, as your eyes refocused on Anthony's face. Your thumb that had been pressed gently against the swell of his bottom lip, faltered but just as your hand was about to drop back down against the linen sheets, a much thicker set of fingers curled around your wrist. Halting it's quick paced abandonment, with the slow and steady guide of your hand down upon his chest. Anthony's fingers released their gentle grasp around your wrist as soon as the very tips of your fingers touched down upon the incredibly warm skin of his bare chest, relaxing his hand by gliding it across the top of your own, until your palm rested flat against the skin just above his beating heart.
You watched Anthony's face the entire time, never once seeing his eyes flicker open as he moved your hand with an almost second instinct. The only shift in his tranquil expression laid in the closing of his barely parted lips with a soft press, feeling the softest gust of an awakening exhale blowing across your cheek. It was only as the seconds ticked by like the thumping beats of his pulsing heart, as a comforting silence settled in the warm atmosphere of the bedchamber, that Anthony's eyes began to move. The soft bend in his brows returning as his lashes flickered with quick bounds, peering his eyes open one at a time. The candlelight was low as it illuminated the room, gentle rays of a burning citrine glow that became dimmer with each passing hour. But it was still enough light that when it grasped hold of Anthony's now revealed irises, that you felt the steady breath you breathed silently hitch.
The incandescent light of rich citrine, made Anthony's glisten as though they themselves were simply orbs carved from the most mesmerizing slabs of amber. For the shade of brown that captivated his widened gaze, was soft and rich as though it oozed with honey. A gentle swirl of sweetened amber amongst the strong burning presence of a deep whisky shade. And each time you gazed up into his brown eyed stare, you felt breathless all over again.
Anthony Bridgerton opened his eyes to the timid light creeping into the shadows of the bedchamber, but you watched as they looked downward immediately. Instead of taking a moment or two to accustom his eyes back to a small sliver of light, by gazing at the window behind your shoulder or perhaps the ceiling above, his eyes looked to you. As though Anthony's first waking thought would always belong to you.
You felt as Anthony's muscular arm snaked its way around you waist, coiling against the thin linen that concealed your bare frame from his view, but as his fingertips grazed just above the surface it felt as though his touch was right back against your naked flesh. His palm flattened against the small of your back, as his hold softly tugged your body closer to his chest, and the heat of his body overwhelmed you. For it seeped through the nearly useless bundle of sheets, straight through to your skin that soaked it up as though it was the warmth of fresh beaming sunlight. Your own palm flattened further against the swell of his chest, as he pulled you closer to allow barely a breath to breathe in between your bodies. The heat radiating against your hand, feeling Anthony's warmth seeping into the lines swirled across your palm, as your fingers absentmindedly traced gentle hearts upon the space where his own laid beating furiously underneath.
"You are so beautiful," Anthony mused in the softest breath, breaking through the void that had settled in the bedchamber since the moment rest had found him. His voice was husky with the sleep that lingered in the breath of his words, a low but incredibly sated tone that traveled upon a whisper as it fluttered across the blushing swell of your cheeks. His amber brown eyes that glinted with the softest flakes of something golden, stared intently down upon your red flushed cheeks. Feeling as his sight danced across your flesh, and you couldn't help but wonder if the remark he had whispered with his very first audible breath, was meant to be spoken aloud. But as Anthony stared at you with the faintest hint of a smile toying at the corners of his lips, you blushed harder as you knew it was exactly his intent for you to hear his words.
Anthony's soft smile shimmered bright in the honey glow of his gaze, as the grin itself turned rather boyish in nature as it spread with a glint of mischief and undeniable allure across his softly tinted lips. You knew he smiled in amusement at the sight of your face running red, watching with a sense of mirth as you wanted nothing more than to bury your face back into the comfort of your pillow, suddenly self-conscious underneath the weight of his scrutiny and the power of his softly spoken words. But Anthony didn't tease you, he didn't push you to unveil yourself like a butterfly, but rather lifted his hand and ran the pad of his thumb gingerly against your cheek. As though the gentle strength of his hand's pressure, could in some way expunge the bright staining hue from your cheeks.
Smiling against his touch, a slow but gradual curl of your warmed lips, you peered up at Anthony through your sprawl of gently fluttering lashes. Studying the cast of timid candlelight bathing over his face, as his whispered words echoed in the base of your mind.
"Is that what you tell all the women?" You smiled with a cheeky response, before pulling your bottom lip inward again with the harmless bite of your teeth. Your fingers continuing to trail vague shapes against the warm flesh above his beating heart, through the soft mess of dark chestnut curls that lined his bare chest, but they faltered as you began to feel the muscle beneath your touch tense and the thumping of his heart pick up an extra beat or two below your fingertips.
You recognized immediately that the coy remark that had fallen from your smiling lips in a breath of playfulness, attempting to match the glimmer of mirth shimmering in the depth of Anthony's own eyes, was taken the complete opposite as you had intended for it to land. Your words were practically weightless, a teasing tone that had simply failed to touch Anthony's ears with such a breath. For the relaxed nature of his bare body disappeared just as quickly as the rarity of such a finding had appeared, feeling the tension seeping back into every muscle and thick running tendon in his body.
Anthony's thumb that had brushed against the flush of your cheeks, slid down until it pressed firmly against the crease of your chin and with the simple motion of his fingers curling around the bottom of your face, he lifted your head in a single swift action. His grasp against your chin, his fingers strong and burning with warmth, was stern but still he held you with the utmost care as though you might just break in his grip if he were to tighten any further. But with the simple flick of his wrist, he forced your eyes upwards until you no longer had to peer up through the soft sprawl of your lashes. For your sight was instantly met by his eyes, the honey amber now burning wild with a heavy scrutiny of utter bewilderment.
"What?" Anthony Bridgerton's tone was drenched in pure bemusement. Confusion etched across every illuminated line upon his face, as his chestnut brown brows furrowed deeply while his lips remained parted in disbelief. Any remnant of sleep that remained in the corners of his consciousness and eased the flow of his words, was immediately shaken as he became as alert as you'd ever seen him before. His eyes wide beneath his heavy furrow, the brown of his stare ablaze like the citrine glow of the dwindling candlelight.
Your throat felt tight suddenly, as you swallowed a deep breath. Feeling the last remnants of your lighthearted smile dissipating from your lips, leaving them straightened into an anxious line. Your heart thundered within the constricting cavity of your chest, the warm atmosphere feeing as though it spun around you. The sudden intensity of the moment mixed with the profound heat of not only radiating from Anthony's close body, but from the warmth of your nerves rising throughout your own body was overwhelming.
You hadn't meant to upset him, your spontaneous remark held no intentional animosity, in fact you rather believed to be speaking with the same teasing banter Anthony possessed himself. But as you watched your husband's immediate physical response, along with the utter bewilderment that saturated his tone, you realized that perhaps it was a rather unwelcome subject.
Your new husband's reputation, one quite some time before the start of your courtship and eventual betrothal, was not a secret to you. You were not naïve to Anthony's pursuits, the stories and murmurs that followed on his heels. You knew he was a rake, plain and simple. For you heard it from the tongues of the ton, tales from your brothers in their moments of oblivion to your presence, and his reputation was certainly one that Lady Whistledown herself, had commented on from time to time. You knew full well that Anthony Bridgerton was rather the most renowned rake in London, and even as you yourself had doubted the purity of his intentions in the very beginning, Lady Violet Bridgerton was on to something when she said that reformed rakes made the best of husbands.
"I do not attempt to deny the truth that I was a rake before we met," Looking at Anthony, as his fingers held your chin firmly in his grasp, your eyes softened at the sight of his expression. His voice was a low rumble, calm and collected but strong in nature. It passed through the faint part of his lips in a gentle breath that fanned warmth across your cheek, and you knew in the soft exhale of his sigh, that although Anthony did not hide from his past, he certainly didn't enjoy speaking of it with you. "but when my eyes saw you for the very first time, there ceased to be any other women."
All of the anxiety that had begun to beat furiously in the base of your chest, seemed to ease with a single breath. As though the sound of his voice melded with the gentle flow of his heartwarming words, was a balm against the ache beginning to grow. The intensity of a misunderstanding that had begun to fester in the atmosphere like an impending storm cloud, dissipated as though it had never been there to begin with.
Gazing into Anthony's eyes, seeing the way the fire that had burned brightly in the rich swirl of amber soothed to a gentler golden hue, you smiled softly. Unable to resist the familiar curl of your lips edges as you narrowed your eyes in a playful fashion his way.
"Is the Viscount truly claiming he believes in the notion of love at first sight?"
Anthony's fingers fell from around your chin, the warmth of his fingers finding their way back down to your hip. Feeling the heat of his mere touch burning through the sheets like the thin linen was not even there, as though you were to find the tender touch of his fingertips seared upon your bare flesh when you withdrew the sheets. A firm grunt escaped from his lips, climbing up from the base of his throat in a faint noncommittal breath, as his lips spread into an amused smirk.
"I merely saw the woman I wanted and it wounded me deeply to see her with any other suitors."
His tone was possessive as it surged with an evident fervor, but it was alluring in the very same way that he had overwhelmed your body in the waning hours of the evening. His words were spoken with a strong confidence, as though they were the simplest of statements, a fact rather than Anthony's own personal feelings. But beneath his confident arrogance, that made him both incredibly intimidating and undeniably enticing from time to time, and the nearly animalistic possessiveness he felt towards you, there was still that undeniable roguish and rather rakish nature to his tone and to his expression.
"I may have lusted for another in the past, but I have never loved one before." Anthony stared intently into your gaze that had yet to shift from his face, and you smiled deeper at his words that flowed with a surprising ease from his smirking lips. "not in the way that I love you."
Your smile spread like a wildfire across your softly flushed lips, pulling your bottom one back inwards by the gentle grasp of your teeth as you stared at your husband, but just as you felt your words trembling on the very tip of your tongue, Anthony's hand that had fallen back to your hip suddenly rose. His thumb darting forward across the swell of your bitten bottom lip, running the warmth of his pad across the sensitized skin, before pulling with a tender pressure until your lip was released from your restraints. Anthony looked at you, his smirk still running wild against the curve of his own full and illuminated lips, and there was a strong flame burning amongst the honeyed amber. One you'd seen flicker and blaze only an hour ago, when he'd caressed and taken in every inch of your bare body with a passion you never knew was possible.
Smiling wider at the sight of your husband's beaming expression, your own hand that had been pressed against his warm and steadily beating chest, reached upwards. Climbing through the slightly humid air until the tips of your fingers collided with the soft skin of his cheek, gliding your palm against his flesh and the soft curls of his sideburns, until you cradled his face gingerly in your much smaller grasp.
"You wished for me," You whispered in a single breath, one that felt strong enough to shatter through the tranquility possessing the atmosphere, but leaning up until your nose nearly brushed against the tip of his, your grin grew around the rest of your words beginning to fall from your parted lips. "and now you have me."
Anthony's eyes were so close to you now, it felt as though you were staring into the core of the sun. But you couldn't bring yourself to pull back, utterly captivated by the burning glow in his softened brown eyes and the roguish grin that grew in the curl of his lips. "Indeed I do."
Anthony's thumb found the pull of your bottom lip once again, pressing the warmth of his smooth pad against your calmed flesh, but with the rest of his fingers he tilted your head up further than he had before. Tearing your gaze from his own, as your head balanced back against the soft swell of your pillow and his head lowered. Feeling the thick brush of his chestnut curls across your jawline as the warmth of his lips fell upon the nape of your neck, peppering kisses up and down until fireworks popped across the flesh of your collarbone.
"The most beautiful woman in the entire ton," His breath was staggeringly warm as though the sunlight touched right upon your bare flesh. But just as your eyes began to flutter closed at the intoxicating sensation of his affectionate and lascivious kiss, his lips tore away from your flesh. Lifting his head up until your eyes reopened, your skin suddenly chilled by the absent of his smoldering touch and soon your sight fell upon the bright burning amber hovering right above you.
A strong smirk tugged at his lips, as Anthony gazed down at you, and that fire that you were beginning to identity in the swirl of his irises, blazed with an utter fury. "and she is entirely mine."
Anthony Bridgerton's lips captured yours before you had a moment to speak, a moment to laugh in breathless glee or even a moment to think. But as his lips collided against your own, pulling you closer to him as though you could never get close enough for his liking, you didn't care. The warmth grew exponentially as your palms slid up his chest, fingertips dragging through the mess of curls across his warm flesh, as Anthony's arms wrapped tightly around your bare frame. The thin sheets bundled around your bodies, now wrapped in vain as Anthony pressed you closer to him still. You smiled against Anthony's passionate kiss, one that burned and melded with a strength that left you breathless beneath his touch, but as you had learned in the previous hours, Anthony was in bed how he was in life. Determined, confident, dominant but most of all, when Anthony Bridgerton loved... he loved hard.
The candlelight had extinguished long before the piecing glow of the morning light flooded through the bedchamber, the flame dwindling down to a darker orange that saturated the room as Anthony claimed you as his over and over again. And you knew when you both awoke from the slumber that had not sought you out till nearly the brink of dawn, that the traces of your love would be scattered across the floor with the crumpled and discarded sheets. And when you gazed in the mirror for the first time, it would be peppered across your skin in the form of a million swollen love bites. But as you rested in the safe and warm embrace of your husband's strong arms, engulfed in the extinguished darkness now captivating the bedchamber, you didn't care about the lasting marks along your skin or the lack of sleep bound to bunch beneath the swell of your eyes. Because nothing else in the world seemed to matter as long as you had him.
A/N: Ahh! Whew, Anthony Bridgerton, I swear you may just be the death of me!😍
When I created this one shot, it stemmed solely from the want for a piece that showcased the romantic and more passionate side of Anthony Bridgerton. I've had romantic undertones in a lot of my other one shots, but not many where love and passion are the driving force. I wanted this piece to show the other side of Anthony that I've yet to touch on in depth in past ones, the passion and fervor of this beautiful man while still integrating the touch of love rather than just pure lust.😍
I worked diligently on this piece, it took me longer than some of my other ones and I think it's in part to wanting to make every aspect of this piece as perfect as I possible could. Because although I do exactly that with all my pieces, this one pushed my comfort zone just a tad. I knew the dialogue I wanted, the scene itself and the environment I wanted it set in, but when it comes to passionate scenes in bed... they are not what I usually write. I approach them with careful hands, wanting to create the same emotions and descriptions that more graphic writers may be able to create, while staying true to who I am as an author. I worked very hard on this piece, from the details to help bring the scene and Anthony Bridgerton to life, to the emotion that I always strive to keep strong throughout all my pieces!
I hope you all enjoyed this one, I really wanted to write a less angsty and more romantic/passionate piece for Anthony, and I am very proud of what I've been able to create!❤