Moments: One-Shots || Benedict Bridgerton

Moments: 'Twas The Nights Before Christmas...

23rd December, 11:04pm

"Was your evening agreeable, Mrs Bridgerton?" His voice is silky as he trails hot kisses down your throat.

"You know it was," you reply, hand sinking into his lush hair, directing his lips where you want them as he smirks knowingly against your skin. He always enjoys it when you lead him, pushing into his warm body, clad only in a white ruffled shirt and trousers.

This is you finding a moment of intimacy with your husband as you get ready for bed in your guest room in Aubrey Hall. It's two days before Christmas, and the entire Bridgerton clan have gathered at the family's country seat to celebrate the holiday, a large house now packed with many children. You and Benedict are here with your brood of four.

Just as your fingers toy with the buttons on his shirt and his land on the bow of your gown...

"Mummy, I cannot sleep," a little voice cuts in from across the room.

You twist around to see your youngest, two-year-old Thomas, standing in the doorway, his little fist clinging to the door handle at head height.

"One moment, lovely," you call, watching him nod drowsily and toddle back into the adjoining nursery.

You bury your forehead into Benedict's shoulder, knowing the possible romantic interlude is lost but unwilling to admit it out loud.

"Why do you have to be so damn handsome?" you grouse.

You feel his quiet laugh quaking his body as much as you hear it. "Thank you, my love. But that seems a non sequitur to this particular dilemma?"

"Quite the contrary," you counter, raising your head. "We would not have these offspring interrupting us if I could resist you," you sigh, shooting him a mock pout.

He breaks into a full belly laugh that creases his whole face. "How about I deal with the children I am responsible for, and you get some well-deserved rest, hmm?" he suggests chivalrously, nuzzling your cheek.

"You know, such wonderous things make me open to persuasion about more children, Mr Bridgerton," you jest lightheartedly, swatting his bicep playfully.

His responding chuckle is rich. "Why do you think I do it, Mrs Bridgerton?" he hums, his lips grazing your temple, his flirtatious tone causing that flutter low in your belly. He has been quite enthused by the idea of a fifth child for a while now.

"Mummyyyyyy," Thomas reappears at the door, his tone more whiney this time.

"You get Daddy this time, Thomas," Benedict responds over your shoulder, releasing his hold on you, walking over to the doorway and hauling his infant son into his arms. "I hope I prove an acceptable substitute; Mummy needs to rest. Now, how about a Christmassy bedtime story...?"

Before he disappears into the nursery, Benedict shoots you a devoted but heated look that makes you want to strip him bare.

—

24th December, 7:14am

"Good morning, beautiful," Benedict breathes into your ear as you awaken.

Last you remember, when you stirred in the early hours, you were alone in the bed. You had padded to the nursery and clutched your chest at the sight of Benedict, and the little ones all curled up on a mass of pillows and blankets on the fireplace rug, just visible in the ember glow, an open book in his hand. After a few beats of staring at the adorable pile of sleeping Bridgertons, you closed the door quietly and snuck back to bed. He must have awoken at some subsequent point and joined you.