To Paint With Shadows | Benedict Bridgerton

To Hell With Sensibility

Sophie awoke, hoping to find herself wrapped in Benedict's warm embrace, yet the only heat she felt was the rays of sun that struck her skin, escaping through the window, that sat close to the ceiling.
She sat up quickly, rather panicked, now she seemed to be all alone.
'Do not move.' His voice called out in alarm. Sophie's head turned to see him sat at his easel.
'Do not move another inch.' He warned her, as his gaze remained focus in his painting: of her presumably.
Sophie sat watching him, hoping to decipher his thoughts: he had been quick to leave her side and dress himself, that perhaps he was ashamed of what he had done, ashamed of her.

Clearly noticing the tense air that filled the room, Benedict looked up at Sophie, catching her hesitant expression before she had time to hide it; he offered her a joyful smile.
'I hope you will forgive me.' He said as he stood from his seat, making his way towards.  'Your complexion in Dawn's light, I had no choice but to paint it.' He crouched down, so he was closer to her level.
'That is why are here, of course.' Sophie jested, a smile forming on his face, yet it was soon to disappear, as Benedict watched her with a strange uncertainty.
Benedict nodded.
'You are...alright?' He asked apprehensively.
In truth, the experience had been more painful than she had expected, whilst the pleasure had overwhelmed this pain in the moment, now it remained with her.
She nodded. 'And you?' She returned his question.
'Indeed.' he nodded once again.
The awkwardness of the conversation now becoming prevalent.
'I meant what I said, Sophie.' Benedict quickly added.
His words caused her heart to plummet, and shame to bang at the door of her mind.
'An arrangement between the two of us?' Sophie clarified.
Benedict nodded rather shyly.
'I vowed to be no man's mistress.' Sophie spoke, the realisation of what she had done dawning on her.
'And you will not be.' He quickly defended, 'You are my friend first and foremost. But if you wish for this to end here then it shall.' His voice a soft whisper, 'You will hear no complaint from me.'
The constant of his eyes on hers, caused every thought in her brain to muffle.
'But if... you wish... for it to not,' His eyebrows rising and falling in hesitation. 'Then I would certainly not object.'
The choice Sophie was no burdened with would typically have cause her head to spin, but there was something that seemed to prevent that: perhaps it was the earnest in Benedict's words, or that she had been mislead. Life and it's punishments had always taught Sophie that the bedding ritual was cruel and one sided, a method only used to inflict pain upon its innocent victim: but that is not what she had felt, it had been invigorating and most pleasurable. So, as Frances' words of her sensible nature echoed in her ears, rebellion bubbled within her.
However, there was one thought that troubled her still:
'What of your family? My employment would surely be jeopardised if they were to learn of it.'
She broke the silence.
A slight glee filled Benedict's look; he had been waiting with bated breath, each moment seeming to secure her rejection: yet, she had not done so.
'They would never know.' He quickly stated, 'I would make sure of that.'
Again his genuine nature, seemed to ease all of her doubts, and she smiled in response.
Placing her hands on his thighs, she rose up onto her knees., his eyebrow raising, as he watched her, the smile on his face beginning to grow as she brought her face close to his, teasing him with the gentle touch of her lips, as he had done to her.
Yet, this time Benedict could not remain patient.
'Is that a yes?' He spoke through a grin.
When she said nothing, but remained smiling at him teasingly, he wasted no time in kissing her; he allowed his chest to guide her down to the floor, so that he now lay on top of her: Sophie giggled as he did.
As his hands began to wander her body, she stopped him.
'I have but one condition..' she teased.
'And what is that?' Benedict whispered.
'I want you to paint me clothed... Not just as you see me now.' Whilst her tone was a joking one, there was a candor to the words she spoke.
Benedict laughed slightly, as he inhaled.
'Your beauty of spirit and mind transcends the physical form you find yourself in.' He explained in a hushed voice, his warm breath brushing past her lips. 'There would be no greater honour.' He summarised.
Sophie blinked a feeling sung within her, something deeper than she had ever felt before: yet she did not have time to overthink it for her lips were soon in unison with his once again.