Temptation & Innocence || Benedict Bridgerton

Temptation

His hand runs up your arm and then back down as you both follow the steps of the dance. He isn't wearing gloves, and you can feel the warmth of his skin through your lightweight silk ones. As you whirl around, you hold his gaze, hypnotised by his eyes. The song ends, he gives you a little bow, and you go your separate ways. Your fingers itch to grab him and keep him dancing—all night. He is the only one you are interested in.

It's been two months since, and every ball is the same. You dance as much as possible with him, as much as polite society allows. Secretly you just want to follow him somewhere private and do what you once saw two servants doing on the grounds of your family estate. Sex, you heard them call it afterwards. It looked wonderful.

You feel a strange pulsing sensation in your underwear whenever he holds you during a dance. It's hot and insistent—almost an ache. You may not have been properly informed about relations between a man and a woman, but even you can figure out it has something to do with what you saw in those gardens. You could see their bodies connected right where you feel the most excited when you look at one Benedict Bridgerton. Logical conclusion—you want to have sex with him.

Tonight is the Bridgerton Ball, and it's your last dance with Benedict for the night. His hands are firm on you as you dance; you stand a little too close.

"Mr Bridgerton," you whisper close to his ear, "I think I want to have sex with you."

He stumbles and steps on your toe.

"Oww!"

"Sorry," he fumbles. "Do you know of what you speak?" his voice shocked.

"Yes, I've seen it," you reply confidently.

"Seen it?" he sounds winded.

"I saw some servants in the garden once, their bodies were joined together, and they were so happy they were screaming. When you hold me, I feel an ache where they were joined."

"Jesus Christ..." he mutters heavily.

"I... I assume that means I want sex with you, no?" you suddenly hesitate, wondering if your conclusions are somehow wrong.

"That is... not wrong", he answers slowly, his face both pained and pleasured, "but it's not something we can do."

"Why not?" you are curious.

"They really never teach you anything, do they?" he sighs, disbelieving. "For ladies of good society, such as yourself, it should only happen when you are married," he explains.

"But why?"

"Because what you saw is designed for people to create babies," he tutors quietly as you move around the dancefloor.

It's your turn to look absolutely shocked. You had no idea. "But wait, that servant is not with child. So how can it be only for having babies?"

"It's not only for making babies; it can be for pleasure too," he admits.

"Then let's do that," you argue.

Benedict groans lightly, and his fingers flex against your back where he holds you.

"Miss Y/l/n please...." he is breathing a little heavy, "don't."

You pout at him as the song ends. "Do you not want to?"

He makes a strangled noise in his throat. "God, yes I do," he closes his eyes as if injured, "but we should not, not yet at least. Now please go, enjoy your evening."

He gives you a brief respectful bow, and you lightly curtsy on instinct. Then he is gone, hurrying away from you as if burned, holding his hands in front of himself somewhat awkwardly.