Benedict Bridgerton Regency Imagines || Benedict Bridgerton

Somebody's Watching

Note: This is a sequel to the earlier chapter Enthralled

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Dorset House is oddly silent as you close the door behind you, glad to be back in its warmth after a brief but bracing, crepuscular walk home. It's so quiet, you can only presume that your husband has allowed your staff the evening off to spend time with their families. It's barely 5pm, but already near-dark out on this windy autumnal evening, the harbinger of a gathering storm curtailing your plans to spend the evening with your nearby friends.

Shucking your velvet cloak, you grab a nearby candle and light it with the brass lighter kept on your hallway table, before heading towards your husband's study. It is where you would expect to find him at this time of day, unless he is called out to tend to a patient.

You are just padding past the drawing room when you hear a muffled noise that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

A very loud, very male moan.

Something instantly flushes hot over your skin. You would know that sound anywhere. It is your husband. But it is not from distress... very much the opposite in fact.

Curiosity has you moving towards it on instinct. The drawing room door is almost closed, but as you touch its smooth, polished wood, you hear the same noise again, followed by a self-assured chuckle. That is when you realise he is not alone. And that there can only be one source of a butterfly-inducing laugh like that.

Benedict.

Gentleman, Vampire, and lover to both you and your husband—an enthralling dynamic formed on one atmospheric evening during your honeymoon not long ago.

Just last night, he was alone with you, and now it appears he is returning the favour for your husband. Part of you thinks you should leave, allow them some privacy, not intrude on their intimate moment. But a larger part, the one causing a frisson in your very core, is intrigued to know what they get up to when you're not around.

As you grapple with the dilemma, a sudden gust of wind buffets the windows, and you could swear it carries that decadent otherworldly voice, whispering...

Don't go so soon...

It sounds like permission. Curiosity has you push the door ajar and silently slip into the room, edging along the wall, glad the layout allows you to conceal yourself behind a room-dividing velvet curtain.

There, on a gathered mass of cushions in front of the roaring fireplace, is your husband. You can only see his head and chest, furniture obscuring part of your view, but he appears naked from your vantage point. His pale skin glows with a slight sheen, face contorted in ecstasy, lower lip trapped under his teeth. His supple arm flexes, and you crane your neck to glimpse more. His fingers are tangled in a mass of chestnut hair, a head rhythmically rising and falling over your husband's crotch.

Just like last night, when you were sat upon that ethereal face until your thighs quaked and you hoarsely begged for reprieve, Benedict is once again employing his masterful tongue to bring untold pleasure to a Dorset—this time, your husband, Tom.

Tom's moan rings out, echoing up the walls, his eyes fluttering closed, his whole body quaking. The lewd sound of wet suckling fills the air, battling with the hiss of the logs burning on the fire next to them. The heated fug of the room carries the scent of their dewy, fresh sweat mingled with their colognes. A deliciousness that makes your mouth fill with saliva, a yearning to lick every bead from both of their bodies.

Wishing your furniture were somehow made of glass, you push up onto tiptoe, needing to drink in more of this wondrous, carnal tableau. Now you can observe your husband's rigid cock, glistening with saliva, disappearing entirely between Benedict's lips, taken into his throat, no doubt. He holds still, his nose planted in Tom's pubic hair, gloating as your husband writhes under him. Tom is panting now, his other hand a death-like grip on the cushion above his head, every muscle in his being tensing as he skirts ever closer to that pinnacle.