A/N: just a short chapter, hope you enjoy it <3 just a reminder that paragraphs with smut are labelled with a '*' and the second one will signify that the smut has ended.
Edit: WOO new cover heheh
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Benedict woke up the happiest man on earth the next day. He just laid there, watching his wife sleeping peacefully, and wondered how he managed to achieve everything he had ever wanted in life. The most beautiful and intelligent woman he had ever met was in bed, beside him, and he never wanted her to leave it. He watched as her chest rose and fell with every breath, how her lips puckered slightly. He listened intently to the soft sleepy noises she would make now and then in adoration. He wondered if she would ever understand the way he felt about her – he would happily die for her if need be.
If he were Adam, then she was surely Eve, carved meticulously from one of his own ribs. Lucy was a part of him, and it felt like she always had been. Their union was the forbidden fruit, and he was more than glad to take a bite out of it, regardless of the consequences. Because, unlike the first man and woman to be created, he was sure this was the path he was always destined to take. It could never lead to chaos or melancholy, and he could only hope that she felt a fraction of what he felt for her.
Reaching over to the nightstand beside their bed, he pulled open the drawer and lifted out his sketchbook and some charcoals that were stored there. He had a habit of leaving his art supplies lying everywhere, and it was incredibly convenient at times like this one. He sat up and rested his bare back against the soft bedframe and began etching a portrait of a sleeping Lucy. He had finally found his muse, it was certain – he felt like Botticelli when he stumbled upon the Genoese beauty that was Simonetta Vespucci. He knew he had his very own Venus and wanted to capture her for all her beauty, for the world to see if it pleased her.
After about forty-five minutes of drawing in deep admiration, Lucy finally made the first signs that she was waking from her slumber. A deep breath and a stretch followed by a scrunch of her brows, her eyelids fluttered open. She seemed dazed for a few seconds, unsure of where she was, but he could see the realization flooding her mind as her eyes scanned the room and her cheeks flushed a little bit.
"Good morning," Benedict spoke. She turned to face him and smiled warmly.
"Good morning," she replied. Benedict returned her smile and set down his sketchbook and charcoals on the nightstand he had collected them from.
"What were you drawing just now?" she asked, still with an endearing sleepy voice that melted his soul.
"You. But you'll have to wait for the final draft, darling," he smirked. Lucy smiled and shook her head, burying her face into her pillow and turning over to lie on her front. Benedict got back under the covers, making himself more comfortable, and placed his face inches from hers. He reached out a hand and traced circles around her bare shoulder, then trailed his finger along her forearm, soliciting goosebumps on her end. She closed her eyes in contentment and allowed him to continue the simple affectionate act for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. Benedict found himself hardening at the sight of her for what felt like the millionth time that season. The view he had of her, lying on her front with only a thin sheet covering her lower half and exposing her back was almost enough to make him release right then and there. He admired the arch of her spine, and the random birth marks spread out along it. He couldn't help himself – he reached out to touch her chin, to pull her towards his lips, and she obliged, only opening her eyes slightly to see what he was guiding her to do.
*Their lips meshed together perfectly like they were made for one another. He kissed her with as much passion as he did the night before, his hands finding their way into her thick dark hair. He tugged it at the nape of her neck, pulling her head backward slightly, causing her to moan quietly into his mouth. Lucy, still shy with her movements, placed her hands on his chest and slowly began moving them downwards, nearing his waist. Benedict decided to push off of his side and get on top of her, aching to feel her body pressed against his once again. As he repositioned himself, she immediately knew what to do and opened her legs so that she could wrap them around him, earning a smirk from Benedict.
Their breathing deepened, as did his desire for her, and he could not continue simply kissing her for much longer – he needed to feel her again. He needed to feel the wetness, the heat of her, how perfectly she fit around him. With her verbal consent, he took hold of his manhood and positioned it at her entrance, and then began thrusting into her. The only noise in the room was their labored breathing and loud moans that only increased in volume with every thrust. Benedict watched as she threw her head back in complete pleasure, admiring her delicate neck and shoulders, then allowed his eyes to drift to her chest.
Every inch of her was flawless, and he had to restrain himself from finishing too quickly at the sight of her breasts moving up and down with every movement he made. He lowered his face as he kept his rhythm, pacing himself, and began kissing her all over. He then reached his hand down to her womanhood and found that one sweet spot that he knew would send her over the edge, and began rubbing it enthusiastically while simultaneously pumping himself in and out of her. He could tell she loved it by the sound of her moans, and when her eyes began rolling back, he knew she was almost at her peak, so he finally allowed the rush of liquid to explode out of him while his wife was reaching her own climax. He huffed a sigh of relief, proud that he had managed to contain his pleasure for long enough and ecstatic that Lucy seemed more pleased than she had seemed the previous night.
*After they finished, the air in the room now hot, Benedict rolled off of her and onto his back. He lifted up his arm and allowed Lucy to cuddle into his side, and they stayed like that for a while, tired due to the night and morning's activities. The rest of their honeymoon was spent doing much of the same thing, to Benedict's delight, but in the blink of an eye the two of them were already setting off back to London in a cozy carriage built for two.
"I have something for you, I hoped to give it to you sooner but it did not arrive at the cottage until this morning" Benedict spoke from his cushioned seat. Lucy's eyes met his, glistening with happiness and curiosity. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a rectangular green box, placing it in the hand she had extended to him. She thanked him before she even opened the box – of course she would. Lucy was always kind, more kind than the average person. He could have gotten her a leaf and she would have been over the moon about it. He watched as she undid the bow that was tied around the box, with a smile still etched on her face, and then opened it carefully revealing the necklace he had ordered made for her a few days before their wedding celebrations.
"You, your mother, your brother, and your sister's birthstones. And if you turn it over mine is on the back – I hope you like it, Luce," he said in a heartfelt tone. She admired the circular pendant with the multicolored gems embedded in it and then looked up at him doe-eyed.
"Oh, I love it – it's beautiful Benedict, truly, and incredibly thoughtful of you – thank you so much," she replied.
"I only feel bad that I do not have anything to give you – god, why didn't I think of getting you a wedding gift?" she asked rhetorically. Benedict only shook his head and smiled, reassuring her that there was no need. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel guilty for anything – all he wanted to do was give her everything she deserved, and everything he could give.
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Two days after their arrival back in London, Eleanor was due to get married. The peace Lucy felt the past few weeks on her honeymoon was quickly substituted for absolute chaos and carnage – Eleanor was given her own grand room in the palace, which was littered with different people coming in and out all morning discussing the procession and making sure she looked and felt perfect for her big day. Lucy sat quietly by, out of the way and only made her presence known when her sister needed her, because she knew all of the emotions the youngest Blackthorne would be going through. Eleanor would want space, but equally would want to not feel completely alone. Lucy did not know what it felt like to marry a prince, but she did know what it felt like to get married in general, and also how it felt to have all eyes on her, so she wanted to be there for her sister in every way that she could without feeling like an overpowering presence.
"You look beautiful, Ellie. I am so happy for you," Lucy spoke, as her sister walked back into the room now dressed in her carefully crafted wedding gown and veil. The off-white silk was draped in hand-sewn diamonds that gave the illusion that they were dripping off the dress – an outfit certainly fit for a princess.
"Thank you, Lucy," she replied. Lucy couldn't help but notice the quiver in her voice, so she asked her what was wrong.
"I – well, I am scared. I do not know what to expect. And what if this is a terrible decision, Lucy? What if everything goes wrong?" she asked, tears threatening to spill. Lucy gave her a comforting smile and sat down, patting the seat next to her. The room had emptied briefly, so Eleanor slumped into the chair and made herself comfortable, finally able to breathe.
"He is absolutely enamored with you, El, anyone can see that. If any issues were to arise, I do not doubt that he would alleviate any negativity you may experience, or at least try to. He is in love with you, sister. Enjoy your day, celebrate – you have everyone you love here with you," Lucy smiled, trying to make her little sister feel better. Eleanor looked into her eyes, nodded, then looked back down. There was still something on her mind, Lucy knew but did not prod. She just sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds, waiting for her sister to decide for herself whether she wanted to open up further or not.
"I also, uh – I am also worried about the... the wedding night. Terrified, actually. I have realized I do not know what actually happens, Luce, all I truly know is that it is painful – I am dreading it," Eleanor finally confessed. Lucy let out a rush of air from her nose in amusement, earning a glare from her sister.
"Oh, Ellie – trust me, you have nothing to worry about. If he is as kind as he seems, then he will be just as kind in that respect," Lucy responded. She wanted to make her feel more at ease, but chose her words carefully. Telling Eleanor the entire truth about the marital bed may have the complete opposite effect of what Lucy was trying to do.
"But, what actually happens?" Eleanor prodded, and Lucy sighed.
"Do you truly wish to know?" Lucy asked.
"If you are comfortable telling me, yes," Eleanor replied.
"Of course I am, but I do not want to worry you further, sister," Lucy responded, creasing her forehead in concern.
"Well saying things like that definitely will make my hair fall out, Luce," Eleanor complained, urging her sister to profess. Lucy laughed lightly once more, then digressed.
"If you truly wish to know, then okay. He has his own... private body part – let us call it the stem of a flower – yes?" Lucy began, making sure Eleanor was following. She nodded slightly, not breaking eye contact.
"And you have your own private area, do you not? We shall call that the planting pot – his is different than yours is – an outside body part," Lucy explained and Eleanor nodded, following her sisters' words in concentration.
"When he feels desire for you, his stem will become firm and ready to... plant," Lucy continued, unsure of how else to put it. Eleanor cocked her head in confusion.
"Plant?" she asked, her brows furrowing. Lucy nodded and just waited to see if her sister would catch up. When she eventually caught on to Lucy's meaning, her eyes widened in horror.
"I beg your pardon?" she shot up out of her seat and began pacing frantically around the room, and Lucy sighed once again while standing up out of her comfortable spot.
"You did ask me to explain it to you. Congratulations, you are more prepared than I was – in every sense of the word," Lucy spoke nonchalantly. She knew her sister was shocked, but also knew that she would thank her for illuminating her. Eleanor stopped pacing around and looked at her sister.
"Promise me it will not be painful," she asked, her voice quiet. Lucy stepped forward and held her sister's hands in her own.
"I cannot promise you anything, but I can tell you to go into this with an incredibly open mind. You are a good judge of character and always have been, so you already know how everything will go. You already know how he will treat you, Eleanor. You have never been wrong before, so please do not second guess yourself now," Lucy spoke. Eleanor nodded and allowed a few tears to fall from her eyes. Tears of anger, nerves, and happiness all rolled into one and fell freely before she wiped them away and fixed her posture. When people started filing into the room again to make some final preparations, Eleanor held onto Lucy's hand. She held on the entire way walking through the palace, and to the carriage that awaited outside the exquisitely decorated palace doors, waiting to finally take her to her prince.