Hello I'd love to read a fic about Benophie being desperate for each other between the engagement and the wedding!
My HC is that Benedict remembers how worried Sophie was at the thought of having an illegitimate child so wants to do the honorable thing and wait but Sophie is all over him (they either leave the main event for the wedding night or "lose control" again)
Content warning: sexy times
It's a little like torture, Sophie thinks.
Now that they're engaged, one would think things would be easier and in some ways they are. Sophie is no longer working in service, Benedict’s family has eagerly accepted her into their fold…
But now society dictates that they be apart, intimately, before their wedding night.
And strangely, so does Benedict.
“You were concerned about falling pregnant,” he reminds her gently. “The last thing I want is to put you through that level of stress again.”
He's right, of course. They fought so hard to be together. Benedict fought so hard to love her. It'd be ridiculous to court scandal now.
He's staying at his bachelor lodgings. Sophie is staying at Bridgerton house.
The same room, right across from Benedict's bedroom.
The room where he confessed his love, and she hers.
And they acted on it.
Sophie deems herself deeply silly for missing that room; wanting to feel his presence at night when he's gone. Wanting to wrap herself in his blankets and fall asleep looking at all the ephemera that makes Benedict uniquely Benedict.
To say nothing of the memories.
She gives in one sleepless, cold night, when the house is quiet. She slips out of bed and sneaks across the hall, slipping inside the dark bedroom. She'll wake early and sneak back.
It's not quite as she hoped. The bed is too cold. The room is too tidy.
Sophie sighs softly. There's just not enough Benedict in the room now, and it's a poor substitute for the real thing.
She misses the feel of his arms around her and his steady breath against the side of her head. The rise and fall of his chest.
It takes time to find sleep, and she's almost there when the door creaks open. She gasps and flops back, hurling the blanket over her head, only to hear the warm, familiar chuckle of her fiance.
“Sophie.”
“...Yes?”
“What are you doing in my bed?” He asks, stepping closer.
“...Sleeping.”
He tugs the blanket down gently and smiles at her in the darkness as he sits on the mattress. “Is the bed in your room not to your liking?”
“It's fine,” Sophie tells him. “It is just…just not…”
“This bed?” He asks softly, reaching out to brush her hair from her eyes. “That we shared”
She swallows and nods.
“I just came for my crayons,” he explains. “I turned my lodgings upside down looking for them before I realized they were here. And so are you, it turns out.”
Sophie reaches out, gripping his waistcoat and pulling him in slowly, kissing him.
Benedict moans against her mouth, hovering over her. “I miss you.”
She merely nods and starts to unfasten his waistcoat, kissing him again. “This feels like a dream,” she mutters.
“If it is, I hope I do not wake up for quite a while,” he smiles as his lips trail to her collarbone, tugging at her chemise.
“Benedict…”
“I know we agreed to keep things respectable,” he mutters against her skin. “But you are in my bed, and I find that utterly unfair.”
Sophie pulls him into a hungry kiss as she shoves his waistcoat off and then pulls at his shirt, and he shifts over her, kissing down her body as he takes the chemise with him, settling between her legs, breathing against her center.
She shudders, her fingers gripping into his hair. “Yes,” she whispers.
He devours her eagerly, sucking rhythmically as his nose nudges against her clit. He moans softly as her fingers tighten in his hair. He pulls back a little to slip two fingers inside of her, thrusting slowly and watches her writhe. “Some nights this is all I think about,” he murmurs. “You, in this bed, taking what you need from me.”
It's so hard to think. To respond to anything when he's so singularly focused on her this way. All she can do is moan his name again and let her release wash over her as he breathes slowly over her clit. She never imagined being so sensitive, but being without him for a few months has apparently made her needy.
She's never felt wanton before, but this…
Sophie pulls him up, kissing him again, cradling him between her legs, unable to get enough of him.
“Sophie…”
She can feel him through his trousers, hard and insistent as he presses against her. “I need you,” she whispers in his ear, making him moan into her shoulder.
“You said-”
“I know what I said,” she argues. “I cannot let you leave here without having you.”
Benedict pulls back to look at her, heat and surprise in his eyes. He presses kisses all over her face, and then it's a mad scramble to push his clothing off.
He feels so good; better than their first time as he thrusts in a steady rhythm, watching her for her reactions, adjusting as he notices what makes her breath hitch; what makes her clench harder around him.
He eventually shifts behind her, kissing her neck as he reenter her, and it rips a soft cry from her lips.
Their pace quickens as they barrel towards release, and they find completion together, her fingers gripping his neck, and his face buried in hers, breathing hard.
“Oh god,” he breathes out. “Sophie…”
She keeps her eyes shut. “Stay,” she whispers. “Stay with me.”
He nods against her neck, going boneless against her.
“It is only a month to the wedding,” she mutters, her hand sliding up to stroke his hair. “If if I do fall with child…it is only a month.”
She feels Benedict smile against her skin before kissing her there.
