A Gamble // Benedict Bridgerton

Chapter Seventeen

Word Count: 2,427 words. 

Warnings: None. 

Evelyn woke alone and cold from the open window. Moving to wrap her arms around herself, she looked at the early morning sun.

With a heavy sigh and tired eyes, the princess smiled at the sparkling dew against the grass and the wistful birds chirping upon the branches of nearby trees.

The distinct sound of charcoal on paper was what turned her attention, spotting Benedict Bridgerton to her left. Still dressed as he was the night before, the man sat at an easel, sleeves rolled higher than they had been before as he quickly sketched an image. He had not noticed her rouse.

"You have not won," Evelyn told him, titling her head. The princess' hair was surely a mess, and her clothes rumpled but she cared little when his gaze met hers. "I do so hope you are not breaking the rules of our wager."

Benedict smiled, dropping his artists tools and rushing over to her. He quickly hopped onto the pillowed alcove and captured Evelyn's lips in his. Hand on her cheek, he placed the other around her waist.

They were both smiling as he pulled away. "Benedict..." she began.

"I know," he replied, biting his lip as he took in her features for the hundredth time. "Can I not savour the knowledge that you feel half as must attraction as I do right now?"

She pushed her hand through his hair and Benedict closed his eyes as he leaned into her touch. It was primal, what they felt for each other in that moment. At least, it was what they had convinced themselves to believe.

"It was inevitable. We spend entirely too much time together," she countered, happy in the moment and disregarding thoughts outside that room.

"I feel like a fool," he admitted, kissing her again.

"You are a fool," she breathed against his lips, tugging on his hair to kiss him again.

Benedict pulled away to brush the hair from her face, admiring the way that her eyes shone. "I have given into to my most primitive instincts."

"Oh shut up," she cast, pulling him in to kiss him again. "You are ever too much a gentleman sometimes."

The way he moved his body towards hers, fingers pressing at the seam of her corset beneath her dress was enough to have her wanting more. Evelyn bent her knees, allowing him to rest between, his torso pressed on hers.

She couldn't help herself. Every part of her better judgment told her to push him away, but every other part of her begged him to keep coming closer.

"We must keep this a secret," he breathed in between soft kisses.

"Evidently," was her response, pulling his head closer and kissing along his jaw and behind his ear.

He let out a low moan. "And our wager?"

Evelyn pulled away to look at his expression. "It continues," she explained. "I plan to see Hamlet."

"And I plan to capture your likeness," he countered.

"You shall not succeed," Evelyn warned.

He smiled before diving to kiss her neck. As she gasped, Benedict ran a hand down her skirt, pushing underneath to caress her skin with his cold hands.

"There is only one chess match remaining," he told her, breath causing her to shiver. He kissed along her collarbone.

"Shall we play it today?" the princess posed, titling her head back to give him more access. It was unbearable how much she craved him.