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sarahth2 · 6 days

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Pure Instinct

Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x Spiderwoman! Reader

Art by Lenin Francis Yu

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Preying behaviors, bickering, ambiguous relationships, breeding kink, objectification, creampies, Monster fucking, overstimulation, prey/hunter dynamics, mentions of period. Canon places, Not proofread.

Summary: A little guest from another dimension has a penchant for ovulation.

Another one for the Miguelverse

If you had to hear another word about world domination or how mistaken your views as a hero from another anomaly were, you'd surely rip your hair out.

Special thanks to this nonny for the wonderful idea ❤️❤️

Miguel delivered the last kick on Doc Oc's variant while you handled the trap.

"God, I swear if he keeps talking about the fucking sun on his hands-"

"Can you shut up and help?!" Miguel grunted as one of the villain's tentacles squeezed his skull, with the intention of leaving his head a bloody pulp, while slamming him against a wall.

"On it! " With a huff you shot your webs and kicked Doc Oc's spine, earning a pained growl from the man, but it was enough distraction for Miguel to pull his talons out and slice through metal and wire in a vicious outburst, destroying the tentacles in several rubble pieces.

With a kick and punch combo, Dr. Octavius was stunted. Miguel's webs tied the remaining automated limbs.

"Lyla, we've got him. Prepare the cell."

The little quiet gave you a bit of peace, bit it was quickly interrupted by the dull cramps on your lower belly.

You had to support on a nearby wall and exhale as another stab was delivered to your insides. If there was something worse than having your period, was being a spiderwoman and having your period.

Heightened senses made everything to be felt tenfold. Miguel's mask disappeared and he threw a brief glance your way before securing the area and pick up the anomaly.

"You alright?"

"Yeah just... Wished my uterus wouldn't have a penchant for committing harakiri every fucking month."

His brow quirked and he pressed some buttons to open the portal back to HQ. Dr. Octavius chuckled.

"You'd need a tantō for that."

"What do you think it feels like, dumbass?"

His lid twitched at your brazen disrespect, but ignored it. The least he wanted was to keep wasting time and prolonging the anomaly's staying in this dimension too long.

But the little conversation was more than enough to create a distraction. Doc Oc pounced on Miguel with his bare hands, securing his steely grip on his watch before pushing him through the portal.

"Shit!" Despite the pain you didn't hesitate to jump after them. You shot a web to gain impulse and kick the villain's head before his fist collided with Miguel's face, but this Octavius seemed prone to a greater resistance.

He punched back on your stomach, blowing all air out of your lungs through a choked wheeze.

"Play nice!" Miguel growled before connecting a powerful uppercut underneath Otto's jaw as the latter used the marred machine as a weapon, creating a set of cuts on Miguel's arm.

The mass of fighting limbs and bodies went through different universes, thanks to the code error to finally land in a foreign looking land.

You fell on the floor with a hard thud, unable to stand due the waves of pain that subdued you remorselessly.

Miguel howevee had grown tired and punched Otto on the side of his face, repeatedly until the villain remained unconscious on the floor.

Miguel's attention quickly diverted to his watch that sputtered in sparks and electric jolts.

"Ay por Dios... Lo que faltaba." His hand immediately rubbed his face, annoyed.

You on the other hand had barely mustered some energies to stand up.

"Fuck..." you whimpered and held your lower belly, as a crawl rolled down your spine upon glaring mistrustful at the alien-like features of the dimension. "Where are we?"

"Earth 616, known as Klyntar." Lyla quipped from your watch before glitching next to Miguel.

The foliage was nothing alike, not even the local fawn. All seemed to be doused in a black goo, that if you looked closer you could swear it moved on its own.

The flower's leafs were either exactly that or white sturdy spines that resembled teeths. As if the plant had a set of elongated teeth that protruded on each petal.

Long and sturdy spines that crawled in twisted spirals in whatever surface they touched. The sky was like glancing at a sunset. But unlike it's pretty hues of pastels, the fiery red and orange and yellows took over. Like if witnessing the very sun burning before you, yet it was cold. Eerily cold.

"Yeah, no. Can we... can we go home? Please? Don't wanna remain another second in one of Stephen King's wetdreams."

"I'm on it, signal over here is quite hard to get." Lyla glitched in several spots, trying to get a proper reception for her data

Miguel secured Otto entirely this time, and as he popped some joints back, you couldn't help but shoot at the sentient goo that was already crawling up his ankle and hand. His face contorted into a scowl before seeing the black puddle scurrying away from him, crawling within the dense alien foliage.

His face scrunched in disgust to then haul Octavius on his shoulder.

"What the hell was that?!"

"A symbiote. Amorphous creatures, I'm still trying to get a full on scan on what they are made of." Lyla's excitement would've been contagious if it wasn't for the icky feeling the whole place gave in it's already bizarre layout.

"Parasites, that's what they are."

Miguel mumbled gruffly as he crossed the portal, you followed. Otto was put in a cell. And you went to your dimension for a much needed break.

The boss himself went back to his base, ready to get lost in the many upcoming reports his way, ignoring the sudden itch that seeped through his body.

----

Dread crept in your head the closer you got to Miguel's office. The past weeks have been nothing but chaos in the Spider Society.

Anomalies doubling their presence, canon events bein6 almost disrupted, the cafeteria food lowering their quality and Miguel...

Oh no.

The main reason you were nauseous with anxiety as you entered in the threshold of his lab.

Not only your favorite leader and almost lover had been insufferable, but snappier, less tolerating towards Bullshit and mistakes, to the point of believing himself allergic to them. Cause they got him in such a mood the rest rather go to Jessica to report. Even to Peter.

And things were awful if people started to come to Peter for giving reports.

Sometimes you could hear him grumbling spanish nonsense to none but himself. With a deep sigh and a silent prayer to whoever above for you to not be killed in the go, you surpassed the doorframe.

As soon as you did the subtle tinge in your spider senses, thrummed through your body. A shaky breath was trapped on the state of his lab. Nothing but a mix of pitch black darkness and the red, ominous glow from the screens, barely illuminating his way, and outlining his heaving figure.

"Miguel?"

Your voice taunted and beady crimson eyes immediately locked on you.

"Here's the reports from last week. They're already done-"

Your throat gulped involuntarily upon picking up the ragged pants and heaves exhaling from his trembling mouth.

"Leave." he grunted and you frowned. He wasn't only a pain in the ass but a walking contradiction. How he wanted things done asap if he didn't even bother to take a look?

You were about to protest but a pained and shaky whimper from him, alerted you.

"You want me to leave when you're probably injur-"

"Fucking Leave!"

He roared, more concerned of what might happen if you didn't do exactly as you were being told.

"Mig..." Your eyes widened as he wheezed on the floor, the same black goo you saw back at Klyntar, was engulfing your sometimes lover at an alarming rate, that had Miguel grunting and growling as the amorphous creature fought to swallow him whole. But as you stepped closer he hissed your way, stopping you.

"I-I can smell you." He seethed through clenched teeth, struggling to remain in control of his words alone. But the statement made your brows furrow in disbelief. Hands rose in defense as you approached a step closer, to try and get the sentient slime out of him.

"The hell? I took a shower today you ass!." You mumbled while getting Lyla to fetch the Spider doc to the lab, trying to keep him grounded. Your spider senses tingled louder and harder the more you saw him fight against the thing.

"Not that kind of smell, you foolish woman."

But the sudden change of tone made you shiver. It wasn't him speaking, but something more eldritch and dern that finally managed to swallow him whole and overlapped it's voice with his.

The squishing noise ended in a lurid gurgle as a massive and dark figure stood before you. Breathing as if learning the proper way to inhale it for the first time. Drunk in the very air you exhaled, oozing with pheromones.

"M-Miguel?"

Miguel was big, but not this behemoth of a creature, crawling in it's own skin made out of abyss and darkness, in which chest remained your boss' spider emblem, fiery and bright red, like if fire itself emanated from within.

"I can smell you, little spider"

It took a moment for you to understand the implications of such words. You knew in this specific part of your cycle pheromones turned a bit more pungent. A reason why you remained in your dimension.

Even though colorless, the creature's eyes narrowed in a leering and borderline predatory glare towards you.

For every step forward he did, you took two back

"I gotta... Uh-" Your politeness melted into a pool as soon as the dangerous set of sharp teeth stretched over his lips, revealing a twisted wolfish grin that would put any creature to shame.

Your senses reached the peak of their alarmed state with a single thought.

Run.

Your feet didn't need to be told twice as they took you away from the creature's presence. An underworld roar echoed within Miguel's station.

You didn't know if it was a good or a bad idea. But it mattered little when the creature, the symbiote, chased after you. The earth trembled and echoed with every powerful lunge he gave.

You jumped through a window, and swung through the buildings and cars, throwing an occasional load of webs to slow him down that proved a nuisance if anything.

"Run, little spider, RUN!"

The ominous laugh echoed through the night. He jumped through structures, following the delicious scent you left behind.

If Miguel could recall, he had been studying symbiotes ever since the web of life showed him the many bad turns a Spider could take. He knew they were nasty creatures when finding a proper host.

Vicious and harmful parasites that did nothing but corrupt, if the host's willpower was weak. What Miguel couldn't decide yet was if he was being corrupted for giving in into his need to mate, or if the parasite had made him bigger, faster and more powerful because he knew he needed to mate, accepting his current emotions and feeding the creature's crave with them.

And your pheromones and stress only added another delicious smell to the list. The phenethylamine running rampant in your brain made his heightened senses to tingle in wicked delight.

His smile only grew wider.

With a powerful lurch, he jumped through buildings to finally catch you mid air before you shot your web again. His whole hand wrapped around you while he held you tightly over the building's ledge.

Bit by bit the row of sharp teeth appeared within his mask, to unleash his serpent like and slimy tongue out that, didn't waste a second longer and took a taste of your skin by licking your cheek.

"Let Miguel go!"

Voice firm, although your hands quivered while trying to pry yourself out of his steely grasp.

"Let him go?" Miguel laughed, but you knew this wasn't your Miguel.

Was he?

He wasn't harming you, if anything he was just licking your neck with that abnormally large tongue of his

"He's the one in control, spiderling."

The goo spreaded around you, like tiny and sentient webs that grope and tangled around your inner thighs, up your abdomen, breast and arms, swallowing your body, like it did with Miguel.

The ones around your arms secured their grip around your wrist, pulling and locking the limbs immediately behind your back.

Your little cries only ebbed him to inch closer to your face, the web extensions grope tighter, suffocating your suit.

Miguel's sharp talon slid softly on the fabric, giving the creature the perfect chance to rip the remaining linens to shreds off.

A yelp was drowned as his long tongue slid in within your mouth. Coiling and twisting on yours, subjugating the wet muscle effortlessly.

Your eyes clamped shut upon feeling the same sensation in your nipples.

The symbiote's biomass had split and smaller versions of his mouth appeared to immediately latch on each of your nipples.

With half lidded eyes and a swirling mind, your body squirmed at the delicious sensations running rampant through each cell that composed your form.

You were allowed to breath as the symbiote pulled his tongue out. Within seconds you were flipped upside down, head dipping into the abyss of buildings and landscapes underneath.

For a second you thought you'd fall down, but the steely grip in your body was foolproof. Monstrous hands spreaded your supple thighs open, your skin crawled with the deep, demonic growl grumbling in his chest upon taking a deep inhale of your cunt.

You could see him relish in it, as his salivation increased. Tongue teased by taking a deliberate slow lick on your folds.

"Y-You'll let me f-Nnghh!-"

Your teeth clenched in an acute whimper but eventually a shaky and loud gasp came out of your throat as Miguel or rather the symbiote plunged his tongue inside your heat with ease. Slimy texture tasted and twisted within.

His tongue curled and slurped your insides vehemently, tearing lovely and desperate cries from your pretty mouth. Composure cracked with each second as the tiny mouths sucked and kissed your nipples like no tomorrow. As if coaxing the dormant milk out of them was their main and only mission.

The symbiote lapped and gulped down the juices that soaked his tongue. You mewled and moaned, completely lost in the drowning debauchery the creature provided. His tongue felt heavenly as it slithered and fucked your insides with such viciousness you could feel your tightness trembling and succumbing to his corruption game.

The neglect in your body was catching up to his ministrations. It bent and twisted like putty into his mutated hands. A streak of drool oozed from the corner of your mouth as you gifted his ears with your sweet pathetic little cries.

Clit throbbed the more he pressed and curled his tongue against your cervix, teasing it nonstop.

You shouldn't enjoy it. You couldn't be enjoying it, but here you were, secretly begging him to keep going, to quench that urge flooding your rationality even if it ruined you.

Miguel ate like no other, that was much true, but this dark mass of living alien goo had your walls spasming and milking around him, and your brain synapses crazy with raw delight.

And when he had enough of your sweet cunt, the biomass etched you to his chest. To then jump out the ledge and land into a darkened area from another building.

His body spat you on the floor, but quickly propped you on your feet. His darkened giggles crawled underneath your skin, to then gasp as his hand crushed your frame against the thick glass. Hot pants echoed in a foggy cloud on the sheer surface, chest flattened against the sturdy crystal while your arms remained locked behind you. His fingers immediately pulled back your hair, arching your flexible spine to look up at him.

"Such a needy little spider"

His tongue licked your lips, the mouths latched once more in your nipples, earning him nothing but a exquisite sob

"So eager to be ruined."

Deep within your alarms flared upon feeling something hard and twitching behind you, at first you thought of it nothing but another extention of his mutated form until it positioned right in your drenched hole.

A pant turned into a wheeze as his broad tip pushed in, easing inch by inch.

Your eyes rolled back at the obscene size of his invading cock, stretching and molding your walls to his girth.

A choked gurgle came out of your gaping pit, panting for a much needed gulp of air. Your toes barely touched the ground as he bottomed deep, bulging and pulsing proudly inside your womb.

Your brain was turned into nothing but a puddle, swirling inside your head with every breath the creature behind you exhaled, all while he embedded and trapped you against the wall with his monstrous frame and cock.

The Symbiote's hand held your hips firmly, guiding you up and down with powerful yet paused strokes on himself, like a life sized fleshlight. Making sure your walls learned and memorized every curve and tangent of his twitching cock while receiving him whole with a wet squelch.

"S'big-" you wheezed with half lidded eyes, struggling to remain aware and sane. But how could you achieve such feat when air was lacking in your lungs and your brain tingled with the underlying need to procreate. You were in the peak of your fertile days.

And him was more than willing to give you exactly what you needed. Symbiote, Miguel, it didn't matter anymore who plowed you. You truly couldn't care less.

"Enough games." the creature seethed and with a tighter grip on your hair, he smacked your hips in a powerful thrust, knocking out all remaining air in your burning lungs. Then another and another and-

Oh god

You came. And came hard, clenching ever tight around him in violent and ruthless spasms. Shaky mewls and pleas turned into slurred screams but that didn't stop him. Your toes curled in.

His smile twisted upwards, before shoving it's tongue back in your throat as his hips begun ramming in a merciless tempo. Obliterating any remnants of common sense in your frying and overriding brain.

Good was too weak to actually describe the feeling. Something too raw, too vicious, viscerally inexpressible, like the unceasing whomps of his hips. Like, him.

Your mouth was unable to properly vocalize the searing heat the Symbiote's lust stirred within. Chipping away your need to stop him and simply take his swollen and pulsating cock the many times he pressed in.

Cause in truth, what else could you do but take it? To take it fast and remorselessly deep, with no signs of him stopping. Not when his snarls rumbled behind and his hot breath fanned over your face and neck. The mouths on your breast removed themselves with a pop, leaving your nipples puffed and swollen

Tears pooled in the inner corner of your lids, and soon slid down on each side of your cheek. Your voice was reduced to nothing but meek grunts and hushed breaths, to finally dissolve into a stuttering groan as your eyes widened at the hefty load of his seed being shot deep. Hot and spurting directly in your womb.

Your eyes rolled back as he pressed imposibly deep, overfilling you. His frame trembled upon sensing your womb trapping him, drinking and swallowing greedily every last of his drops, choking him exquisitely. A satisfied and animal-like growl rumbled through his chest.

But it wasn't enough.

His tongue pulled out of your throat, letting you have some air as a reward for withstanding him.

Your arms were numb, like your mind, legs too lightweight to support your whole frame. Too fucked out and overstimulated to articulate a proper word as you slumped against the glass wall that fogged in every weak breath exhaled.

Miguel's eyes raked over your body and smirked proudly. The dark and living webs fetched your quivering figure.

His eyes remained on your leaking hole and pushed all the escaping cum back inside with his slimy tongue.

"It needs to be inside" He grunted and pressed your head against the floor, while his webs spreaded your hips again.

Ass up high, he buried deep once again, earning a sweet and needy scream and some of his cum to spurt out in the floor in a lecherous splatter, pooling underneath your poor bouncing hips.

The rough and rhythmic slap slap slap deafened your pleas and begs. Your breast bounced at the wicked beat of his pistoning hips. Throat scrapped raw, breathless. Eyes glossy, too gone to a dark place where he was the undisputed sovereign.

"You spiderlings are so fragile" The symbiote smirked while his hand held your head in place.

"Miguel-"

His name was repeated over and over, like if you were learning it for the first time. Clit throbbed with such intensity it had your head shaking. Fighting to keep your sanity intact as his heavy balls slapped whatever skin they could reach.

"Can't-" you grunted between clenched teeth, eyes danced erratically, like your blown breaths. Your knuckles and toes turned white at the sheer pressure you held them in.

"You can't what?" The overlapping mirthful voices sent another painful throb in your punished pussy, "Is it too much for you?"

The brief and sadistic laugh echoed through the skies.

"How weak."

With a snarl and a deep plow, he sheathed, the webs lifted you and curled you on your own to see how his enormous cock buried inside and pulsated.

Thick and throbbing veins adorned his base, every contraction meant more hot spurts of his seed, flooding your already stuffed womb.

There was no sound from you this time. Your brain had shut off and you laid limp, on the floor, quivering and twitching at the minimum graze of air. The webs around your wrist were loosened, freeing your tingling arms.

The little puddle of cum kept growing underneath the more your muscles spasmed and contracted.

"Ten"

Your breath hitched, while trying to get up.

"Nine."

He sung and you whimpered, crawling away from him.

"Eight"

Your legs didn't move but rather quiver. It was amusing for him to see you gasp while trying to stand.

"Seven"

"W-Wait" You mumbled, feeling the remnants of pleasure toying with your mind.

Part of you knew that if you stayed, he'd destroy you completely, but if you go, you'd gain a bit more of time to let your body heal enough to withstand another round.

"Six."

You tried shooting a web. But nothing came out.

"C'mon!"

"Five"

A chill ran down your spine as you slapped your wrist, finally mustering some strength to stand up with wobbly legs. Your nakedness didn't matter, not when a symbiote had taken over your boss, corrupting him to the point of him playing the mouse and cat through the city.

"Four" He tittered with malice.

And finally you managed to shoot some. Naked or not you supported on the wall to catch some air before shooting again and swinging.

"Three"

He watched you go after covering your bits to spare you some shame in case someone saw you. But quickly frowned when disappearing through a portal.

The symbiote however left Miguel's body to latch on his back. His eyes however held a different gleam, teeth sharper.

Soon, his seed would work, but he had to make sure your womb harbored enough of him so his future seedling grew.

"Lyla, where is she?"

"Back in her dimension-"

He cut her off before she kept talking. The alien goo swallowed him whole again, regaining his gigantic frame.

"One."

The hunt was on.

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #symbiote suit #Symbiote! Miguel #monster fucker #Miguelverse #Spotify

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sarahth2 · 6 days

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Please stop what you are doing for 13 seconds and watch this:

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sarahth2 · 7 days

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Miguel checking every once in a while your heartbeat because he needs the reassurance that everything is real, not a dream.

He still can't believe how someone as beautiful and perfect as you loves a monster like him. I mean just look at you!

Miguel who needs to lay his head in your chest to sleep, your heartbeat assuring him that you're alive, healthy and most importantly, with him.

#hikaru kaneoya 💫#hikaru post #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse

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sarahth2 · 7 days

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last year i was eating in a fancy, large restaurant when i began to hear a rumble and the distant sound of people chanting ‘potassium, potassium’ and suddenly hundreds of people dressed as bananas flood this restaurant chanting potassium over and over and we were trapped there for a very long time because the bananas would not leave and they were everywhere

i wasn’t joking

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sarahth2 · 7 days

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Ep 7 Aftermath (given the planet didn't explode yet)

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sarahth2 · 9 days

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Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 13: Release

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: 18+ - explicit sexual content Word count: 5.1k

Masterpost Previous chapter Next chapter

Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day! How about a little steam for our lovebirds? 😉💖

Abandoning any hope of ever finishing the portrait, Benedict led Sophie by the hand to his bedroom. The hour was late and they encountered no one in the hall. He closed the door behind them as Sophie moved to stand near the fire, looking somewhat anxious. He took her face in his hands, wanting to soothe away all of her fears.

“Sophie, there’s no need to be nervous. We can go as slowly as you like. I just want to make you feel good like before.” He was in earnest despite how his blood was racing. Whatever they were doing, whatever kind of arrangement this was now, he didn’t want to simply take his pleasure from her. He wanted to get to know her and savor her in whatever way she would let him.

“Alright,” She let out a shuddering breath, betraying that she still was not at ease.

“A drink?” He asked, reaching for a decanter.

“Thank you,” She gave him a small smile. He poured two glasses of wine and handed one to her with a clink. A toast to whatever new chapter they were beginning.

She sipped her drink and stared at him, shifting slightly from foot to foot. He beckoned for her to sit in an armchair then knelt before her. Setting down his glass, he bent and began to untie her shoes.

Sophie let out a small gasp. “Benedict! You don’t have to…”

“Shhh.” He smirked up at her. “Enjoy the wine.”

Shocked at being pampered like a veritable queen, she leaned back into the warm chair and took another sip of the ruby liquid. It was undoubtedly the finest wine she had ever tasted and she was grateful that it was helping to calm her nerves. She wanted this, whatever it was they were about to do, but she was still new to it all. Aside from an errant kiss by a servant boy in her youth, all of her romantic interactions had been with Benedict. He was the first and only to kiss her with such passion, the first and only to touch and savor her body, the first and only to declare that he wanted her in the way men wanted women, without nefarious intent. While she trusted him to be patient, she was rather bashful of her ignorance. She chided herself for not asking more of Genevieve, inquiring as to what she did with men she had no intention of marrying. As the tryst in the orangery had proven to her, she knew nothing of how to achieve pleasure.

Benedict slid her shoes off one after the other then began to massage her legs, running his hands from her ankles to her knees. Sophie couldn’t help but groan, enjoying the pressure on her tired calves. She had never imagined him treating her this way, as if he were a servant hired to tend to her every need. He certainly knew how to charm a woman. Setting her glass aside, she looked down at him on his knees. The light from the fireplace cast the most lovely shadows across the angles of his face and glinted in the waves of his tousled hair.

“The hours seemed so long tonight, waiting to see you again,” she admitted.

With a smile he slid his hands over her skirt and up the length of her thighs, then took her waist and buried his face into her bodice. Sophie shivered against the strength of his grip, running her fingers into his hair.

“Let’s hope the hours stay long,” he murmured, tilting to look up at her. He was indescribably beautiful, his jaw angular and framing that cheeky, crooked grin. His eyes were a shimmering blue-grey, set softly under long lashes and dark brows that were as quick to turn upward with mirth as they were to knit together with concern. His whole countenance was gentle and inquisitive, joyful but discerning. He was an artist, but Sophie saw him as a masterpiece in his own right.

She pressed her lips to his. He tasted like claret and salt, his mouth opening to welcome her tongue. He kissed her back with increasing intensity, both of their breaths growing ragged. The heat built quickly, tingling under Sophie’s skin and pooling between her legs. The same feeling as before. Her stomach flipped with excitement at knowing he would bring her release again.

Before she knew it, Benedict had pulled her legs around his waist and lifted her into the air, carrying her across the room to the bed. He set her on the edge and knelt again between her knees. His large hands splayed across her back as his kisses moved down her neck and shoulders, lingering on her collarbone. She wound her fingers into the hair at his nape, closing her eyes as she fell under the spell of his lips.

“Can I take this off?” He rasped, the tips of his fingers pressing into the fabric of her dress.

“Yes,” she breathed, and felt everything starting to loosen as he slipped each button free. She wanted desperately to feel his skin, and she grabbed at the fine linen of his shirt, bunching it in her hands until it came loose of his waistband. He took her cue and quickly tore off the garment, flinging it across the room. Sophie had just an instant to stare at his bare chest before his mouth was on hers again. She touched him, skimming her hands across his torso, surprised and delighted when his muscles quivered beneath her fingers.

As their tongues collided, he gently slid her dress and chemise down her shoulders. He chased the sleeves with hot kisses as he pulled them fully down her arms and everything tumbled to her waist, leaving her shamelessly exposed. She found that she was not self conscious and arched her back, offering herself to him like some sort of forbidden fruit.

Benedict stopped breathing when he saw her. He’d pictured this moment in his mind so many times - every night as he lay in this very bed, and in every dream when he actually slept. But this - reality - was far sweeter than a dream, and far more erotic. His hand, which had been stroking the warm skin on her back, slowly slid over her rib cage.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, knowing that the words were hopelessly inadequate. As if mere words could describe what he felt. And then, when his trembling fingers finished their journey and held her breast, he let out a shuddering exhale. His need for her was so intense, so primitive. It robbed him of his ability to think.

He needed her next to him, below him, on top of him. He needed her in him, around him, a part of him. He needed her the way he needed air, indispensably.

He leaned forward slowly and kissed her once more, feeling gooseflesh prickle her skin beneath his fingers. It was remarkable, but every time he kissed her, her lips seemed to grow sweeter, her scent more beguiling. And his need grew, too. His blood was racing with desire, and it was taking his every last shred of restraint not to push her back onto the mattress and tear her clothes from her body. But he stopped himself with a reminder. This time was about her. He was here to please her needs, not his own. He wanted her to know she was safe and to show her a damn good time if he could.

“What do you…” he swallowed, trying to steady his pounding heart. “What do you want, Sophie?”

Her mouth hung open with heavy breaths. Her eyes were so dark he couldn’t see their color anymore. She hesitated.

“Do you feel an ache?” He rumbled from deep in his chest, moving to settle his hand on her thigh. “Between your legs?”

She nodded and the neediness of her look made him fight for composure. He took one of her hands and kissed her palm. “I can help you with that. Like before.”

“Yes.” She was practically vibrating but surprised him by cupping his face. “But Benedict, I want to pleasure you too. Very much. Only I don’t…I’ll need you to teach me.”

Benedict’s heart skipped a beat. Something in her earnest plea made him more aroused than he had ever felt. She was assertive despite her inexperience. She had the courage to take control and wanted to grant him pleasure in the way that he showed her. It was more erotic than any of the experienced women he’d been with, who had lain with him for mutual enjoyment but with little conversation or demonstration of concern. Sophie left him in awe.

Dumbstruck, he nodded. “Alright, but you first.”

Then he let passion take center stage, returning his lips to hers in a searing, barely controlled dance of desire. Sophie hummed with pleasure as they wrapped their arms around each other and fell back onto the bed. She reveled in the pressure of his body against hers, skin against skin. It was the most glorious feeling she could ever imagine. He felt so good, so steady and warm, and even though his muscles were lean and powerful, his skin was seductively soft. He even smelled good, a warm masculine mixture of sandalwood and soap.

He murmured her name like a benediction as he lowered her back onto the mattress. “How I have wanted you,” he groaned. “You have no idea. No idea.”

Her only response was a soft mewling sound that came from deep in her throat. For some reason that was like oil on the fire within him, and his fingers clutched at her even tighter, pressing into her skin as his lips traveled down the swanlike column of her throat.

He moved lower, lower, burning a hot trail on her skin, pausing only briefly when he reached the gentle swell of her breast. She was completely beneath him now, her eyes glazed with desire, and it was so much better than any of his dreams. And oh, how he’d dreamed of her.

With a low, possessive growl, Benedict took her nipple into his mouth. She let out a soft yelp, and he was unable to suppress his own low rumble of satisfaction. When he moved his mouth to her other breast and renewed his sensual onslaught, her lips parted and her head lolled back.

“Do you like this?” he whispered, tracing the peak of her breast with his tongue. Sophie couldn’t quite manage to open her eyes, but she nodded. “What about this?” He nibbled gently at her nipple, grazing it with his teeth. Sophie hissed and stiffened beneath him, her fingers pressing into his back, but he knew from her moan that she found it agreeable. In one motion he ran his tongue down the middle of her, licking a trail along her skin until he reached her navel. She squirmed as his hands moved everywhere, down her legs, around her waist, until her dress and chemise were gone. She was completely nude, and it felt very odd but somehow also very right, as long as he was touching her.

Benedict’s feet found the floor again and he stood between Sophie’s legs, enraptured with the woman lying before him across the bed. He leaned down on one arm and sucked gently at her breast while his other hand squeezed her thigh. He trailed his fingers upward and ran them gently over her folds. She was wet already and despite how he ached for her, he would ease her into each step, building a progression of sensations for her to try. He slipped one finger inside of her, grinning with satisfaction as her entire body jerked and tensed around him. They had done this before and he knew she enjoyed it. Now into uncharted territory. He pressed a second finger into her, walls gripping him tightly. He held back a groan.

“Is this alright?” He rasped, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.

Sophie moaned. Her eyes were shut, hands clenching the blanket beneath her as her hips began to move, pressing back against his hand.

“Yes,” she panted. “Please…more…”

Any hesitation she may have had was quelled from her mind with the singular, numbing need she felt building between her legs. This was madness. Fever. That feeling that she had only felt once before, and only thanks to this man. It was something that needed release, something that grabbed at her, and yet even with all this pressure, it felt so spectacularly wonderful, as if she’d been born for this very moment.

Benedict slid his fingers in and out slowly, straight at first and then curled lightly to pet her inside. He licked his lips which were growing dry from his labored breath, his eyes dark and locked on Sophie’s body, her every move.

“Benedict?” she gasped. “Is this…this is what it’s like when…”

He hovered his face above hers and their eyes met. Hers were hazy with desire but they held a question.

“Yes,” he purred, his fingers still rhythmically pressing into her, making her shift up and down beneath him. “Only it’s more pressure, and it’s deeper.”

She gave a slight nod, eyes fluttering closed again as he glided within her. “And…” she fought for words between breaths. “A man and woman will go on like this until…until his seed is planted?”

Benedict had never slept with a virgin but he had engaged in these alternate explorations with a few young ladies of the ton as a young man. A number of balls had been spent hidden in closets and side rooms, exploring each other’s mouths and bodies without committing the full act. It was surprising for a maid to be as sheltered as those ladies had been. But he found her forthrightness endearing.

With his free hand he smoothed her hair back from her face. “Yes, they will move until the man releases himself. But if he does not finish inside her body, there will be no child.”

Sophie’s eyes opened with realization. It was as if he could read her mind and had anticipated her question. His lips descended on hers once again, tongue swiping across her bottom lip as his fingers dragged along her walls with a steady cadence.

“And it should bring her pleasure,” he murmured against her lips. “The act should always bring her pleasure, though most men forget that.”

Sophie’s head lolled against the mattress and she gripped his shoulders as he began rubbing her crest on each stroke, driving into her more fervently,. The sounds she made were exquisite, mewling and groaning, whimpering and gasping as she tensed and relaxed, pressing herself against him, willing him to go deeper, move faster. Move faster he did, pushing into her at the same pace his cock was begging for, the same pace at which he wanted to see her bounce beneath the whole of his body. He could feel her loosening just a bit more as her fluids slicked his fingers.

In and out, in and out, he was growing delirious with the motion, with the warmth and pressure inside of her, with the shaking of her breasts in response to the cadence of his hand. He held himself above her and watched her face, reveling in the twists of her lips and dance of her brows as she reacted to all he was doing. Just when his rigid cock issued a drop of desperation against his strained trousers, he felt her clench within.

She moaned and clawed at his back, pulling him tight against her. “Benedict,” she pleaded. “I need…I need…” She writhed beneath him, eyes closed and face screwed up with desperation.

“Yes,” he exhaled, clamping his palm down upon her mound and rocking against it with heavy pressure. “Yes, you’re nearly there,” he coaxed, caressing her forehead again and watching her face with wonder. “That’s it. Chase that feeling.”

Mouth open but holding her breath, she bucked back against his hand as he pinned her hips down with his body. She squirmed desperately, grinding herself against his soaked palm. Benedict bit his tongue to keep his head from swimming. Lord, she was so captivating. The whole of her naked body heaving under his, burning with arousal, skin sheened with sweat as she came apart under his hands. He felt her walls quiver closer and closer together until at last she peaked, spasms dancing down his fingers, clenching and rippling. The whole of her sex throbbed within his grip as her breath returned staccato in his ear.

He tried to swallow his own moan, lowering to lay on top of her. He wanted to feel her every tremor, her pounding heartbeat, the heat rising off of her in waves.

Sophie clung to him, jerking with aftershocks, her mind drifting away to that plane of bliss again. Somehow the weight of him and the warmth of his skin against hers deepened the ecstasy. She felt cradled in a place of comfort the likes of which she had never experienced and she never wanted to leave.

She didn’t know how long she floated there but she was brought back into the room by Benedict’s soft kisses upon her cheek. She dragged her eyes open to see his, still sparkling and bright despite the dark hunger that lingered there.

“How do you feel?” he asked softly.

“I didn’t know,” she confessed. “I had no idea women could feel such pleasure.”

He smirked, proud of himself, the cheeky devil. But she was genuinely grateful. “Do men feel the same when they release?”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Yes, we do.”

She licked her lips and stared up at him. “I want to do it to you. I want to make you feel this good.”

Benedict’s breath hitched. His cock was screaming to be set free. He was hard as a rock, harder than he could ever remember.

“But,” she cast her eyes down, unsure if she was ready to cross the final threshold. “Do you need to be inside of me?”

Benedict’s brows turned up and he kissed her sweetly. He could sense her nerves. “No. No, there are other ways. We will go slowly.”

She breathed a sigh of relief as he moved to stand once again between her knees. God, he was perfection. She took in the full sight of him, tall and shirtless, sculpted of lean muscle and pale freckled skin. The veins in his forearms flexed as his long fingers pulled off his boots and then tugged at his trouser buttons. His dark hair was wild, tousled into soft spikes from how she had played with it. Never taking his eyes from hers, he let his waistband fall and bared himself.

Sophie sat up and stared at his manhood shamelessly. It was long, longer than she had seen on any statue, though she supposed those were adapted for modesty’s sake. It stood at attention, as rigid as a sword and pointing right at her. It was intimidating imagining something so large invading her, but the thought was also so devilishly tempting to try. What would that skin feel like?

Tentatively, she reached out and ran her fingers lightly down his length. He hissed and she retracted instantly.

“I’m sorry!” She searched his face. “Did I hurt you?”

Benedict chuckled and took her chin in his hand. “No, no, of course not.” Then his voice dropped. “It’s that your touch drives me mad.”

Sophie shuddered under his gaze.

“Do it again.”

With more confidence, she reached out and wrapped the whole of her hand around him, amazed at how soft the skin was despite the stiffness of the muscles beneath.

“Show me.” Her voice was assertive as she looked to him for guidance.

Benedict bit his bottom lip and placed his hand over hers. He tightened her grip, suppressing a groan as he guided her in stroking him up and down slowly.

Sophie was captivated, feeling the ripple of his surging veins under her fingers, seeing the way his hips began to thrust lightly with the movement of their hands, and watching the agonizing pleasure that played across his face. A confidence began to grow within her. She was starting to understand how enjoyable it was to bring someone else pleasure. After a few strokes his hand moved hers to a faster speed, over and over again, tugging up and down smoothly.

“Just like that,” he gasped, then released her hand and brought his to rest on her shoulders. He lost himself to her touch. His mind could hardly process what was happening. That she was here, naked in his bed, touching him, stroking him, her eyes trailing across his body, her face a mixture of concentration and, he thought, a hint of pride at what she was doing to him. Any clumsiness in her movements was quickly overcome with a tight, steady cadence that made his head spin. She was a fast learner and it had been so long since he had been touched by someone else.

Since the masquerade he hadn’t frequented any brothels or engaged in any indiscreet acts at parties. He had gone entire years without the company of women, having only his hand for relief. It was unlike him, but he felt that he would be betraying his lady in silver if he sought pleasure with anyone else. Until Sophie. For whatever reason, she was worth breaking his abstinence. He’d thought he’d wanted a woman before. He’d thought he’d needed one. But this - this went beyond both. This was spiritual. This was in his soul.

He groaned and a bead of moisture leaked from his aching cock. Seeing it, Sophie stopped her movements and looked up at him trepidatiously. Before he could say anything, she leaned forward, extended her sweet tongue and swiped it off of him with a lick.

“Jesus, Sophie!” he practically roared, his hips stuttering to keep him upright. But unlike the first time, she didn’t shrink away. No, a fiendish little light flashed in her eyes and she advanced again, running her tongue down the length of him, tracing the largest of his veins. He shuddered, throwing his head back and gripping viciously into her shoulders. It spurred her on because then her warm lips wrapped around his head and she pushed forward, letting him slide into her hot, wet mouth.

He couldn’t stand it. With an agonized cry he pulled back, slipping from her lips. Now she looked up at him with concern, wiping her mouth.

“Benedict? I’m sorry…”

“No,” he panted, hanging his head. “No, that was…you’re just…” He could hardly believe what he saw before him, a bewitching mixture of innocence and temptation. “It’s almost too pleasurable.”

She grinned.

“Too much too soon.” He sighed with a smile. “Let’s go slowly.”

She nodded and squeezed his forearms reassuringly, surprised but grateful that he wanted to set such a gentle pace. She had been so enraptured by his attentions in the orangery, she simply wanted to please him with her mouth in return. She wanted to know how he tasted. The thought of future lessons made her stomach tighten with that same coiled heat again. Surely she couldn’t be needing release again already? She looked to him, wordlessly asking how he wanted to proceed.

“Lie back on the bed,” he said gently. “Make yourself comfortable.”

She pulled away, shifting until she was lying against the pillows. Benedict kicked his trousers from his ankles and climbed over to her. Watching him, Sophie’s stomach tightened further. Lithe and erect, moving toward her like a feral animal, his arms settling to frame her in the soft bed. It was all becoming clear now, the intense joy of carnal pleasures; why men were always in search of them and why women let themselves be ruined for them. She had never experienced such breathless anticipation. Such a longing to engage in sin and never stop.

Benedict loomed over her on all fours, eyes burning into hers as he took himself in hand and began stroking again, tight and slow.

“Is this the first cock you’ve seen?” His voice was dark velvet, hitting straight through to her spine.

Unable to look away, she traced her hands up to his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex as he touched himself. “Yes.”

“So this will be the first time you’ve seen a man come?” The growl of his tone made her toes curl. She could feel new dampness at the apex of her thighs.

“Yes.” It was barely above a whisper.

Benedict bent and kissed her neck deeply, then licked the soft skin behind her ear before rasping into it. “Can I come on you? I want to cover you with my seed.”

She couldn’t control the sound at the back of her throat as his plea went down through her body, making her channel clench around nothing. The air was too hot to breathe and unbidden, she found her hands falling to grip her breasts.

“Sophie,” a devilish whisper in her ear. “Are you aroused again? Do you want to come with me?”

She whimpered, nodding. “But I don’t…can I do that? So soon?”

A small chuckle. “Of course you can. Here, open your legs.”

She spread her legs and he shifted one of his own to settle against her, pressing into her slick womanhood with his thigh.

“Push against me,” he tutored. “Do whatever you want.”

Somewhat embarrassed but with too much burning need to care, Sophie shifted and ground herself down against his leg. She was drenched, smearing her wetness all over him, but it helped her to glide ever so slightly up and down. When she did, it snagged her bud and she moaned, pressing with all of her weight. She could feel him flex his leg and push back against her too, urging her on. It was like riding a horse astride in the filthiest, most pleasurable way.

“Does that feel good?” Benedict’s voice was tight. She nodded needily. “Keep doing that and come with me.”

He was still stroking himself, his pace growing faster as his breath started to run ragged. They locked into each other’s eyes, entranced as his arm pumped and Sophie shifted, rocking up and down against him. Their mouths hung open against each other, breaths noisy as they chased their pleasure and challenged the other to reach theirs.

Benedict’s brow knitted with emotions she had never seen and Sophie wanted to be the one to conduct them.

“Ben…” she gasped desperately, then corrected herself. “Benedict, please let me finish you.”

He stuttered and dropped his hand so that both arms framed her face, eyes searing through her. “Always call me that. Always call me Ben when we’re alone together.”

Sophie’s heart leapt, then he devoured her in a kiss, tongue probing to the back of her throat. She felt him pull her hand back to wrap around his cock. She tugged tight and quick as he had shown her. He moaned into her mouth and she allowed herself a proud grin. She bounced herself faster against his thigh, feeling the knot in her stomach grow more taught and the wave begin to build under her skin.

Their kisses grew sloppy, lips smearing across each other’s faces while they emitted a whole array of sinful noises. Benedict’s fingers found their way between Sophie’s legs and circled rapidly, taking her that much closer to the edge as she continued to grind against his muscle. They each had the other in hand, taking each other higher and higher, their breaths growing shallow, their movements falling out of rhythm as they increased in speed.

Benedict broke their kiss to whisper against her lips. “You never answered my question. Can I come on you? I’m close Sophie, so close.”

“Yes,” she mewled, completely lost to a world of sensation. Everything was the heat of him, the length of him, the pressure of him. The dance of his fingers, the press of his lips, the sound of his breath, the scent of his skin. “Please Ben, please come on me. I’ll come too. Ben, please.”

In only a moment he erupted with a cry, tearing his hand away to steady himself as he pulsed in her grasp, hot ropes of his seed shooting across her torso. Sophie stopped stroking but held him tightly as he came, fascinated at the feeling of his strong throbs within her fingers. She watched him above her, thrilled to see the contortions of desperate pleasure play across his face. In this moment, he was both dominating her and at her mercy simultaneously. She wanted to do this to him, to see him like this again. Frequently.

As he moaned and fought for breath, she continued pushing herself against his thigh. The strangely delightful possessiveness of his release splattering across her chest drove her to absolute madness and she broke, throbbing tight against him. This pinnacle was gentler but deeper somehow, reverberating through her bones as every muscle shivered and relaxed, washing her with calm but not stealing her mind away entirely.

They trembled in place together, the room filled only with the sounds of their gasps. Benedict was nearly in pain at the intensity of his climax and he found himself shaking as he fell to lie next to Sophie.

She lay in a daze, unable to lift her head from the pillows and only half-aware of her surroundings. Benedict pulled a cloth from somewhere and cleaned her, gently wiping away his mess and leaving kisses on her breasts. Then he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to his side.

“Please don’t leave, Sophie,” he mumbled into her hair, drinking in her scent as he felt sleep start to overtake him. “Please stay with me.”

She laid in his arms, overwhelmed. He wasn’t asking her to be his mistress, not really. He was asking her simply to stay. To stay at Aubrey Hall and be with him. Be with him in whatever fashion this was. And whatever this was, was more pleasure and fulfillment than she had experienced in the whole of her wretched life. The last thing she wanted to do was walk away. Even if she couldn’t have him for a lifetime, she could have him now. She hoped the acceptance letter from the Stirling household would never come, and if it did, she would respond and decline.

Benedict’s large hands upon her, the whole of his naked body pressed against hers, the gentle thrum of his heart against her back, all of it made her choice very clear. She would stay at Aubrey Hall and worry about her future and inevitable broken heart later.

“I will.”

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sarahth2 · 9 days

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Let Me Be Your Anchor

Chapter 15: The Drawing Room

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett An Offer from a Gentleman reimagined Chapter rating: 18+ - explicit sexual content, language Word count: 5.7k

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Author's notes: Thank you all for your patience waiting for this chapter. I'll have to request some more because the next three chapters aren't completed yet. Lately life has been full of busyness and change, in a good way, but it's leaving me with little time or energy to write. Know that I'm always endeavoring to do so. 💙 Now that our lovebirds have had a taste of each other, they are all aboard the horny train. Enjoy 😉

For the rest of the day Benedict never had a moment to himself. The house was bustling as every nook and cranny was cleaned, every guest room opened, and every surface beautified. A parade of tradesmen rolled down the drive throughout the day hauling carts of meat, wine, candles and firewood. While Daphne began taking scrupulous inventory, she sent him and Simon off to meet with the groundskeeper to make sure there were plenty of pheasants and fish on the grounds and plenty of fresh horses in the stables to accommodate any outdoor activities the visiting men would want to partake in.

He saw Sophie only twice that day. Once amidst a group of maids who were clearing away tea trays midday, and once when she came to tend the fire in the smoking room where he and Simon were enjoying an after-dinner brandy. His breath caught each time he saw her, noting how she stood out as the brightest spot in the room. She did her best to avert her eyes but stole a quick glance at him each time. How he longed to shove her into a corner, tear off her silly apron and make her moan. But he kept himself in check and pretended to ignore her.

After he had bid the Hastings goodnight he was so bone tired he collapsed into bed without even thinking to seek Sophie out. He had no doubt she was overwhelmed too.

The next morning he woke from a particularly salacious dream about her to find himself stiff under his sheets. God, he needed to see her. He managed to calm his racing blood by splashing cold water onto his face, then went to join everyone for breakfast.

He didn’t see her as he took an unnecessarily winding path to the dining room, and he didn’t see her while they ate. He distracted himself by teaching little Barnaby how to crack open a soft boiled egg. Daphne sighed as yolk was predictably spilled across the table, but Simon just laughed and slid his own egg over for the boy to try again, successfully.

When the meal was over Benedict attempted to leave, but Daphne and Simon pulled him into serious debate over the seating arrangements for their guests. The Viscountess had provided a preliminary plan but Daphne had concerns about certain pairings based on recent gossip Kate may not have heard. Benedict closed his eyes to hide that they were rolling. The last thing he wanted to do was chatter about the scandals of the ton, but he had no excuse to leave without seeming rude. He did his best to grin and bear it, passing quiet commentary on people he couldn’t care less about, and all the time thinking of the color of Sophie’s bare skin in candlelight.

When a seating plan was apparently agreed upon, Simon suggested an outing to the lake which made Benedict perk up. He supported the idea, perhaps over-enthusiastically, and insisted on staying behind at the house to keep an eye on everything. Then, as politely as he could, he bowed out of the room and began to hunt.

Sophie wasn’t in the morning room or the music room or the conservatory. She wasn’t on any of the staircases he passed. He even walked to the far end of the house and looked out to the kitchen garden only to find that she was not there. He debated going down to the servants’ level and asking for her, but wondered how odd that would be. He was doubling back through the halls when he turned and stopped short.

Sophie stood at a small credenza outside the drawing room, setting down a vase filled with a huge spray of flowers. Blues, purples and pinks all evidently picked from the grounds outside. Her fingers ran over them delicately, fanning out the blooms.

Benedict moved to her side. “There you are,” he breathed, his eyes locking onto hers. She was so lovely, her features alight with excitement at seeing him.

“Benedict…”

The flowers were fragrant between them, the pink blossoms calling out the soft hue of her lips. He couldn’t help but bring his fingers to rest over hers on the vase, standing close enough to whisper in her ear.

“The family are going to the lake for the afternoon. Meet me…”

“Ah! Brother.” Daphne’s voice cut in from behind them, causing them both to jump and retract their hands. Without a word or a glance back, Sophie bowed her head and scurried through the drawing room door.

Benedict whirled around with a well-practiced smile on his face. “Sister!”

The Duchess paused, hands clasped in front of her with a curious and discerning look on her face. But it passed so quickly, Benedict wasn’t sure if he just imagined it. She continued. “I just wanted to tell you we were about to leave. You’re sure you won’t join us?”

His mind was racing. Overcome with thoughts of Sophie, he had forgotten why he had said he would stay behind. He stumbled over his words. “Sadly, no. I have…correspondence that needs my attention.”

His sister arched a brow at him. He knew she was keen at sniffing out the truth, so he reasoned it was better to feign deception than feign truth. He gave her a devilish grin. “Or maybe a mallet that needs hiding…”

That seemed to do the trick because she returned a competitive smirk and nodded her head curtly. “Very well. We shall return in a few hours.” Then she turned and walked out of sight.

Benedict released an exhale. He didn’t know how much she had seen or intuited, but it surely couldn’t have been much. He was standing next to a maid. He could have been helping her with the heavy vase for all she knew. But thoughts of his sister detecting them would have to wait. He now had hours alone with Sophie. He moved into the drawing room and locked the door.

Sophie was standing at the far end of the sunlit room, pacing in front of a bookshelf. He rushed toward her.

“Sophie! They’ve gone.”

Taking her face in his hands, he pulled her into a kiss and she melted against him, her lips opening to the soft caresses of his tongue. It was sweet, breathless.

He pulled back, whispering against her lips. “We haven’t been able to talk. The other night…”

She gave him a small smile, her fingers wrapping around his wrists. “It was perfect.”

Benedict sighed, pressing his forehead against hers and matching her smile. He was so relieved to be with her again. So happy that she was happy.

She continued, “I hadn’t expected everything would feel so good. Thank you for teaching me. For being so gentle with me.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and his hands dropped to her waist. “So you enjoyed it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I thought that was rather obvious.” Then she lowered her gaze and started to blush. “In truth, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Benedict’s heart beat faster at discovering she had been feeling the same way he had. His voice became a purr as he bent to her ear. “Is that so? What precisely is running through your mind?”

“Ben…” Sophie shuddered. She knew she was being coy by revealing her thoughts. Perhaps it was not ladylike to be so honest about one’s desires. But she had never stopped thinking about him since she had left his bed the prior morning. While she carried linens to guest rooms, she remembered the feeling of him pressing her down onto his sheets. While she drank her tea, she remembered the warmth of his tongue in her mouth. While she looked down to see her hand dusting furniture, she remembered the grip of his long fingers around her ribs and in her hair. The previous night she had felt such an ache for him that she throbbed between her legs. All this morning she had been overheated, fanning herself between chores. Now she was in his arms again and all she wanted was to share that heat, to be lost to it and satisfy the overwhelming yearning.

Benedict began planting small kisses down the curve of her jaw. “Come now, you can’t say something like that and not elaborate.” One arm pulled her by the waist to press fully against him while his other hand rose to cup her face, a thumb toying at the corner of her lips.

He whispered in her ear. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either, how glorious it was feeling you come apart.” Sophie’s eyes fluttered closed, her breath grew heavy. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he coaxed.

Her mind was growing foggy, only able to focus on sensations. “Your hands,” she sighed. “The way they held me.”

In one swift motion he tore her apron off and flung it across the room. Then with a rip he whisked away the sheer collar at the top of her dress, the ruffle that made a maid’s uniform more modest than that of a lady’s. He traced his fingers across her collarbone and wrapped them behind her neck, holding her tightly against him. He continued his kisses, feathering across the new, lowered neckline of her dress.

Sophie could not bring herself to care about a torn servant’s uniform. It wasn’t hers anyway. It belonged to the house and she was just wearing it while she stayed at Aubrey Hall as a…whatever she was now. She was drowning in his touch, her voice far away and heady. “Your lips…everywhere.”

His tongue flicked across the top of her breast before he pressed his mouth just below her ear, sucking with an undeniable possessiveness.

Sophie’s whole body was tingling, the sound of her racing blood filling her ears. She could feel the ache building between her thighs.

“The feeling of you inside me,” she rasped, scarcely able to breathe anymore. “Things I could never imagine. Everything was so warm…so beautiful.”

Benedict’s breath was heavy. He moved his hands to grasp her breast and her bottom, squeezing and kneading, his weight pressing into her.

She couldn’t stand the seduction any longer. She needed him. Now. Desperately. “Take me there again,” she whispered, gripping into his hair. “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

Benedict paused, expletives echoing in his mind. He certainly hadn’t been expecting this. This lusty and adventurous side of Sophie. Though he supposed he should have known better. She was a strong willed woman. Why wouldn’t that extend to her romantic desires now that she knew how many possibilities there were?

“Sophie,” he groaned, nuzzling his cheek against the soft waves of her hair.

“Ben, please.” But it was more of a command than a plea. His stomach fluttered at the sound of his nickname on her lips. He wanted to take her in the fullest way with his whole body, but he didn’t know if that was her request. It would be a hell of a thing to take her maidenhood in a drawing room. But as scandalously exciting as that seemed, Sophie deserved better. When she was ready he would take her in a bed, in privacy and comfort.

Happy to do whatever else she ordered, he grasped her at the nape and began to devour her with ravenous kisses. Their lips never parting, he pushed her across the room until her back hit the wall.

Sophie was giddy with the whirlwind of their passion and couldn’t help herself from grinning between their frenzied kisses. She frantically stripped him of his jacket while he dug beneath her skirt, lifting and pulling layers of fabric until they bunched around her waist. She watched, mouth open with shock, as he laved one hand with a long swipe of his tongue then brought it between her legs to ready her. Gasping at the sensation, she barely had time to think before he lifted her off the floor, pressed her against the wall and buried his fingers inside of her, exhaling with a wide grin at the rapturous look it brought to her face.

Sophie actually cursed under her breath, thrilled at the familiar feeling, the rhythmic stretch ready to drive her into a delirium of pleasure. Her arms clung around his shoulders while he began drilling his hand into her wildly, teasing her nub with his thumb. He pinned her against the wall with one shoulder and held her thigh with his free hand. Sophie locked her ankles around his waist to hold on. This was desire, this was passion, this desperate need to be as close to each other as possible, to give and seek pleasure. She couldn’t believe she had found it with Benedict Bridgerton of all people. She ached with the suffocating joy of it, all other thoughts about her secrets or their doomed future banished for the moment from her mind. She didn’t even worry that they were in a public room of the house or that anyone might hear them. He was everything she could feel, everything she could smell and see and think about, and it was rapturous.

Benedict grunted against her neck. Every part of Sophie felt so damn good. Her gasps were so exquisite, her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips locked him against her, feeding his own arousal. And all of it was heightened by the unexpected discovery of her deviancy. She was no wilting wallflower, no meek and submissive young miss. She was a woman, intent and purposeful in her actions and words. A woman who could excite and entice and challenge him. Of course he had been with an array of sexually promiscuous women before, but this was something else. He was not passing in and out of a repertoire of men that Sophie sought pleasure with. He knew that she felt this way only toward him, now being the one man she had indulged with. He could sense the trust between them and it’s what made him ignore his better judgment and cavort with her all over his family home. He certainly would never have done so with any of the other women he had been with.

This too made his blood race, the scandalousness of it all. How he had tasted and pleasured and lost himself to this woman wherever he found her - in the nursery, the orangery, in his sister-in-law’s damn drawing room. It was licentious and he loved it. He slowed the pace of his hand as his arms began to shake with the effort. He wanted this to last and he wanted to ensure her the release that she was so clearly longing for. Perhaps it was time for another lesson.

Sophie’s eyes opened as Benedict slowed his movements. He cupped her backside and pivoted to set her atop the nearby writing desk. He pulled one of her arms from his neck and brought it down between their bodies, keeping his eyes locked on hers. He kissed her as he pressed her own fingers against her bud and guided them, swirling in small circles as he had done before. The electricity that shot through Sophie’s muscles hitched her breath and she mewled against his lips. She could feel him smiling through his kiss as he guided her hand for a few more moments and then left her to her own devices.

Sophie was sure she would have felt self-conscious touching herself in front of Benedict if he didn’t clearly enjoy it so much. He watched her with the hint of a smirk on his face, his hooded eyes urging her to continue what he started. For a moment she felt like an absolute fool. She hadn’t attempted to pleasure herself after he had shown her what was possible. Whether she was ignorant or because it just felt so frighteningly good when he did it that she wanted to reserve the act for him, she wasn’t sure. But now he had put her in control and she knew she needed to try. She should be able to bring herself to her pinnacle, and there was the practical matter of being able to address her own needs when they arose. She certainly couldn’t go leaping upon Benedict in drawing rooms every time she felt desire, despite how tempting that was.

Following the motions he had shown her, she circled and tickled her fingers, chasing that tightening, maddening feeling.

“There you are,” his voice was husky. He pressed himself between her spread thighs and looked down at her ravenously. “You look so magnificent, Sophie. You know you can touch yourself whenever you feel that ache.”

She whined in the back of her throat, fingers pressing harder. He bent forward and whispered, breath hot against the shell of her ear.

“Will you do that? Promise to think of me and touch yourself when you are alone.” He had the very voice of the devil but damn it if it didn’t make sparks fly behind her eyelids and make her grow even wetter.

“I promise,” she choked, twirling her bud faster, thighs squeezing to hold him against her.

“Because I have thought of you,” he confessed, slipping his fingers into her once again and sliding rhythmically. “I have thought of your lovely voice and beautiful body…the emeralds in your eyes…and taken myself in hand.”

His every confession pushed her higher. The thought of him pleasuring himself out of desire for her made her clench and she knew he felt it. She knew he was goading her on, pushing her into such a fuzzy, naughty place with just his words. How was it possible? She swore under her breath again and bore down upon his hand, chasing sensation, unable to control herself.

He chuckled darkly. “That’s it. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Take what you want.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, suddenly aware of how blatantly wanton she was being.

His nose brushed her cheek. “No, I like it. I want to hear more curses from your lips.”

It was getting harder to breathe, harder to think. Sophie wasn’t sure she could come up with anything enticing or clever to say. But true to form, Benedict seemed to anticipate her and took the lead.

He wrapped an arm around her back, cradling her head in his palm. He sucked a small trail of kisses from her earlobe to her lips, nibbling at the corner of her mouth. Then he drove his fingers into her harder, building a steady pace, making the contents of the writing desk clink and jitter.

“Press yourself down and say you love fucking my fingers.” His voice was low.

The sin of his words cut through her and she paused.

“Don’t stop touching yourself,” he ordered.

This man was ruinous, but Sophie could not hide that she loved it. She swirled her fingers around her bud and began to push back against his thrusting fist, bouncing lightly up and down in his arms.

“I love fucking your fingers,” she whispered. There was no exaggeration in it. The rhythm they built together, working her sex inside and out, was a rapture she could barely stand. Benedict’s hand plunging into her and his body pressing against hers as they rocked fed the fire building within. Sophie discovered new sensations, new exclamations that her body made when she touched herself in certain places, in certain ways. Tinglings that Benedict had not yet elicited. It was engrossing and she wondered if she was in danger of not being able to stop exploring herself when left alone.

“I love fucking your fingers, Ben.” She said with more gravity, forcing his eyes to meet hers, both of their pupils blown wide. The pressure of his hand and her body driving together, the scent of his cologne, the intuitive dance of her fingers, and the rhythmic jangling of the writing desk propelled her to the brink quickly. Gasping, her thighs began to quake. She gripped his shoulder tightly and let her head loll his hand.

“Yes, come on, Sophie.” He hissed. “Make yourself come on me.” The absolute wickedness of his tongue caused her to snap. Waves of gratification pulsed through her, making her shudder and against all attempts to stop it, moan. Benedict surged forward and kissed her open-mouthed, trying to swallow her sounds. Her whole body bucked against him as she rode out the wave, every part of her fluttering and squeezing, her channel, her fingers, her toes. Once she managed to quiet herself he broke the kiss and grinned, peppering her face and neck with little nips as she caught her breath.

Sophie felt numb with ecstasy and decidedly proud of herself. Now she knew how to bring herself pleasure when alone, but she knew it could never be as intense as what Benedict helped her achieve. She would have to imagine his voice and his fingers and it would no doubt pale in comparison to the real thing.

As she was tingling and floating down from her high, Benedict nuzzled her ear, rumbling. “Was that everything you needed?”

She shuddered. Her hunger for him persisted. She wanted to make him moan and tremble too. She had an image of him in her mind that she wanted to act out, a way in which she was desperate to feel him against her body. She knew how she wanted him to finish. Once she could form words again, she whispered, “I want to be on top of you.”

Benedict paused and she could feel his heart pounding against her. Then he let out what she could only describe as a growl as he lifted her off the desk and carried her over to the nearest sofa. Easing down, he sat so that she was astride him and looked up at her expectantly, hungrily, the midday light dancing in his stormy eyes. The tent in his trousers protruded just in front of her body and she was desperate to touch it.

“Lie down,” she said gently.

The excited spark in his eyes was undeniable as he twisted to recline against the cushions, holding her by the hips. His legs hung over the sofa arm. It wasn’t a long piece of furniture and couldn’t contain all of him, but she estimated it was wide enough for what she wanted to attempt.

He watched her, brows raised in curiosity as she rested her weight on his thighs. Breathing unevenly, she leaned forward and pressed her palm against his bulge. She moved her hand slowly but firmly across his length, gripping him with the pressure he had shown her before.

He arched back into the cushions with a groan, causing a playful smirk to dance across her lips. Then she shifted forward and sank her hips down onto his. She could feel the rigidity of his cock against her most sensitive spot even through their clothing and it made her muscles seize. She spread both hands across his abdomen to steady herself.

Benedict looked up at her with hazy eyes.

“Sophie…what are you…?”

“I want to ride you.” She said huskily.

A stab of bashfulness was quickly overridden by the heat building again between her thighs. She felt driven by instinct; something primal telling her precisely what to do. She had found release against Benedict’s thigh before and now she wanted to find it against his cock in the hopes that she could bring them both pleasure simultaneously.

Slowly she rolled her hips forward and back, testing, dragging her bud along the length of him with steady pressure. A tightening sensation shot up her spine and her breath hitched.

“Like this,” she rasped, repeating the motion. “Just like this.” She began to move faster, rocking against him, her hands pressing down onto his stomach. “Is this alright?”

Benedict’s eyes rolled back into his head and he felt as if he would choke on his tongue.

“God, Sophie…” He could feel the delicious heat of her wet center through his clothes and the press of her pubic bone stroking him rhythmically. He gripped her hips and pulled her down even tighter.

Encouraged, Sophie grinned and rocked faster, pressing harder.

“Will you come this way?” Her voice was breathy and bouncing with her movements.

Benedict squeezed his eyes shut, tossing his head back against the cushions.

“Yes…fuck!” He ground out, teeth clenching. “Please don’t stop,” he pleaded. “Just please, don’t stop.”

Spurred on by his array of needy noises and the desperate dance of his brows over his clamped eyes, Sophie rode him steadily, grinding their bodies together as her knees propelled her up and down. Benedict’s grip on her hips was almost painful but she relished being held so tightly, being needed so badly. The rising wave of climax that was now growing familiar to her was starting to build where their bodies met, pulsing and warming with each drag across his stiffness.

They were both doing their best to stay quiet, the only sounds in the room were the cadenced rustle of fabric and their tight, short breaths as they both climbed toward release.

Benedict’s mind was fuzzy, overwhelmed with the beauty and surprise of Sophie’s intuitiveness. She knew how to listen to her body, even though each experience was new to her, and she was fearless in taking charge. God, how he admired those traits in a woman, and to find them in a housemaid was the most exciting revelation. Through the blinding pleasure he managed to look up and watch her, marveling at her steady pace, her hair mussed from passion, her lips parting to release her nearly silent whimpers.

“So you like this?” He rasped, causing her eyes to fall to his. “Being on top of me?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes.” She panted. “I just need to press against something hard. And your cock is so hard, Ben.”

The filth of her narration rattled him and he felt his cock begin to leak. His head fell back again as he spouted a stream of curses and unintelligible nonsense. Madness. That’s what this was. Romping with this woman wantonly on a sofa he had clambered over since childhood, with household staff listening on the other side of the door no doubt. But he didn’t care, couldn’t care. The freedom, the excitement, and the intensity he felt with Sophie was unlike anything he had experienced. This beautiful housemaid that he had randomly encountered on the side of the road was leading him to absolute ruin and he wanted her to. That she was willing and eager to be with him and that they could continue their secret rendezvouses flooded him with joy. The thought of future afternoons spent like this with Sophie made him impossibly stiffer.

They were bucking against each other frantically now, any concern for subtlety or gentleness gone. Benedict pushed his hips up while his hands pulled her down hard, pinning her tight against his cock. Her fingers curled into his clothes. They both grew breathless, rubbing themselves through the heat they had built together.

Suddenly, Benedict hissed. “Sophie…unbutton me.” His hand left her hip and dragged her fingers to his waistcoat. She moved deftly, working bottom to top to loosen the luxurious plum colored fabric. She pulled it away to either side of his chest, as he pushed up the hem of his shirt to expose his rippled abdomen. Sophie brought her hands back to rest on his bare skin, groaning at the firmness of his muscles and how they were contracting with each thrust against her.

“Sophie,” His voice was deep and urgent. She met his eyes, dilated black. “I need you to come for me. I can’t hold out much longer.”

She grew a look of desperation as she bounced above him, face flushed. “Ben…I don’t know…I’m almost…”

“Quickly…lift your skirts,” he ground out, easing his thrusts as she obeyed. “Come here,” he huffed, his large hands grabbing her rear and pulling her suddenly forward. Her knees shuffled and she fell to grip the far sofa arm before she collapsed on top of him. Then the molten heat of his mouth enveloped her under her skirts and sucked hard. The shock of it made her instinctively lurch away, but he held her firmly in place, grunting against her sodden flesh as his strong tongue nudged her toward the end.

One hand locking Sophie to his face, Benedict slid the other to maneuver his cock out of his trousers and pump himself ferociously. He felt wild, animalistic with need, with the mindless race to grant them both release. He hadn’t felt heat like this in years, maybe ever in his life. She had ridden him to steely stiffness and he gave way, groaning against her folds as he spattered hot across his bare stomach.

His sounds must have helped to finish Sophie off because her thighs went rigid on either side of his head and she bore down, writhing on his tongue as he felt the faint pulse of her muscles seizing within. To her credit she did not cry out, or at least he didn’t hear her, deafened as he was under her skirts and lost in his own fog.

Sophie squirmed a moment more, then shuffled off of him. He was still descending back to himself, his eyes still focusing, when he saw that she had retrieved her apron and was laying it across his stomach to clean him. As he regained his senses he felt a sudden pang of shame. Some of his devil-may-care enthusiasm evaporated with the cooling of his sweat, making him question the recklessness of his cavorting all over the grounds with Sophie, especially when his sister and her family were visiting. Any of the servants could have heard them just now, or gotten the spare key and opened the door. He wondered if he had stained the sofa…

And poor Sophie was always left to clean up and scurry back to work when he wanted to leave her lounging in luxury, basking in the gratitude she deserved for bringing him such untold pleasure. He gently pushed her hand away and cleaned himself with the apron, tossing it to the floor and buttoning himself back into his many layers of clothes. Sophie found her collar and discovered that it had only lost one clasp. She was able to tuck it back under her neckline and fasten it to look pristine again.

Once she had straightened everything she sat beside Benedict on the sofa. He was breathing deeply, lost in thought.

She opened gently. “I suppose we still haven’t talked properly.”

“No.” His eyes turned to her, indecipherable. “I just…I’m not sure what this is. I feel like a cad. Keeping you hidden and watching you work for my family.”

“I want to work.” She offered a small, reassuring smile.

Benedict shook his head. “You say that but…are you sure I can’t take care of you?”

She knew what he was thinking. As much as she wanted this conversation settled and not repeated, she couldn’t deny that their current arrangement was confusing. That they were dancing in an undefined limbo. It would be simpler if she would simply end her life of servitude, take his money and let him house and clothe her somewhere, keeping her in comfort for his secret, exclusive visits. But she just couldn’t do it. The day would come when she would fall pregnant or he would tell her he was engaged and then everything in her life would shatter.

She could feel her jaw locking into place. “Benedict, you said you wouldn’t ask me to be your mistress.”

His eyes turned back to the floor, his tone exasperated. “I know, but I just…”

“What do you want?” She rested a hand on his knee, leaning toward him. She couldn’t understand his resistance to her proposal. Clearly it wasn’t just the risk that they may be caught, given how he had advanced on her in so many common areas. Wouldn’t he be happier to keep her as a dalliance rather than a full blown mistress? Wouldn’t he be glad of the money and effort he would be saving?

Benedict inhaled deeply and met her eyes, piercing through her with his pale blue stare. “To be with you.” He said softly. “To have moments like this.”

Sophie’s heart fluttered. His tenderness seemed to have no limits. She gripped his knee and his hand came to rest over hers. “Then be with me,” she insisted, “and the rest of our lives can stay the same.”

He nodded, swallowing. After a beat, he asked, “So you will stay?”

She nodded back. “If you’ll let me. I’ll work during the country visit as you suggested.”

Benedict squeezed her hand then stood, raking his fingers to smooth his hair and shrugging his jacket back on. “My family will be here in two days, then the guests will arrive.”

Sophie stood too but kept her place by the sofa. “We should keep our distance once they are in residence.”

Paces apart, they stared at one another, the midday sun reaching across the rug to where they stood, betraying the small expressions of sadness on both of their brows. “Of course.” Benedict mumbled. Sophie bent and collected her soiled apron, feeling equally like she wanted to dart out of the room and throw herself back into his arms. This was complicated, painful. But not as painful as being without him had been. And not as painful as devoting herself to be his mistress then returning to a life of nothing before she had to share him with another woman. This was odd, but it was still the most joy she had experienced in her life. It was in between. Just as she was in between. An aristocrat’s daughter but not accepted among the ton. Raised as a lady but living as a maid. Hers was a life of contradictions, of complications, of halves. But in these moments with Benedict she could forget that and she could feel whole. Even if just for an hour, it was worth it.

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