Bridgerton Imagines

Lessons Learned // A.B. [BLURB - smut]

a/n: nsfw, mild smut

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"Bite your lip once more, I dare you," Anthony warns, a dangerous undercurrent in the tone of his voice as he shifts in his seat.

A mischievous grin adorns your lips as you hear the strain in his voice; one of his many undoings was the biting of your lip.

"Don't you dare," Anthony whispers, leaning further in his seat as he watches your teeth sink into your lush bottom lip.

"That's it," He announces as you refuse to free your lip. Leaping from his seat, he has you up and under him in the blink of an eye, shocked laughter leaving you as you take in your new position underneath your husband.

"What are you going to do?" You ask breathlessly, wiggling underneath your husband.

"Oh darling, you have no idea."

"Enlighten me then."

"Hmmm," Anthony ponders, tapping a single finger to his chin. "Should I start here?" He wonders, tracing a finger across your collarbone, dipping down to the swell of your breasts.

"Or should I start here?" He asks, the same finger drawing a blazing path up the expanse of your neck, stopping at your jawline.

"Please," You whimper, fidgeting underneath him as he renders you powerless against his seductive prowess. Anthony smirks, liking the way in which you beg.

"Tell me what you want," Anthony purrs, leaning over you, his chest flattening your breasts as he runs his nose along your jawline.

"I-," You stutter, gasping sharply when Anthony's hands trail up your thighs, pushing your skirts to your waist.

"Darling," Anthony sing-songs, hands stilling on the tops of your thighs, fingers playing with the hem of your tights.

"Oh," You gasp, coming back to the present. Anthony grins down at you wickedly, eliciting a sharp moan from your lips when he presses a kiss to the swell of your breasts. "I want you," You state firmly, hands reaching for him as if it were possible to lessen the gap between you.

it feels close to an eternity before Anthony finally close the gap between you, his lips pressing to yours slowly. Anthony takes his time with you; drawing out your pleasure as much as he can, hands expertly working your body to the precipice before drawing you back from the edge with a whine from your throat.

His favourite thing is to see you so worked up; getting you to that place where with every heaving gasp leaving your body, you beg him for release, only to release the sweetest sound when it's finally allowed.

As you writhe underneath your husband, fingers working miracles in you, he asks coyly, "Have you learnt your lesson about biting your lip?"

"If this is the response," You answer, your breath hitching momentarily when Anthony's fingers crook inside you, "Then I don't think I shall ever learn it."