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d4yl1ghts · 21 days

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new desires

simon basset x bridgerton, fem!reader

summary: you’re at your mother’s manor for dinner when you notice simon licking his spoon and you get some new thoughts

warnings: cunnilingus, praise kink, expeditionist kink, semi-public sex, fingering, p in v, orgasm, unprotected sex, nudity, breeding kink (maybe)

A/N- this is kind of cringe but it’s fine!!!

You glanced at the entrance of your childhood home as your carriage pulled to a stop. Simon hastily rose from his seat and gently took your hand as he guided you down the steps. Amidst the buildings around you, the manor blended in as most buildings were large and housed families. However, the manor had a larger garden than most, which is what made it bolder than the others. Simon had a soft hold on your hand as you both entered. “Hello, dearest.”, your mother said cheerfully as she hugged you. “Hello, mother.”, you hugged her back.

She reached over to shake Simon’s hand. “Hello, your grace.”, she stated. He chuckled. “Violet, I have said many times, just call me Simon.”, he responded amusedly. “Alright, Simon.”, she replied. As you and Simon walked into the kitchen, you were suddenly surrounded by Francesca, Gregory and Hyacinth. “Aww, hello.”, you said as you ruffled Gregory’s hair. They all hugged you as Simon watched the interaction from the side. He smiled at you gently as you made eye contact with him once you had pulled away.

Your four other siblings made their way over to you now. Simon made his way to his seat to allow you some privacy and to catch up with your family. “Hello, Y/N, how are you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time?”, Anthony lead the conversation. “I’m doing well, it has been wonderful to have some time to ourselves but I’ve missed you all so much.”, you replied earnestly. “We have all missed you too.”, Daphne added. “Yeah, Anthony has gotten especially annoying ever since you’ve been gone.”, Benedict responded teasingly as he glanced at Anthony. Anthony gave him a death stare in an almost threatening manner.

“Eloise, have you read any new books whilst I’ve been gone?”, you questioned as you had noticed she had yet to speak. “Oh yes, of course. There was one about a man who rose back from the dead to be with his true love.”, she started. For roughly five minutes she was naming and describing the books she had read. “Everyone sit down.”, Violet ordered.

You made your way beside Simon and his lips curved upwards at the sight of you. “Did you have a nice catch up, dear?”, he asked tenderly. “Yes, Eloise was informing me of all the books she has read and Benedict was telling me how annoying Anthony had gotten since I had left.”, you answered. Simon chuckled slightly.

The maids placed down many plates of food so there was a choice for everyone. You all began gathering your food onto your plates. After your main courses, you were quite full but Simon was not. For dessert, the maids served chocolate mousse. As Simon ate it, you couldn’t help but stare. His tongue washed over the spoon with expertise and you could only let your imagination create another situation that his tongue would do that in. Simon seemed to notice you drooling over him. He smirked like he could read your mind.

He even had the nerve to slowly move his hand up to your inner thigh below your ball gown. You could feel a wetness forming quickly. You clenched your thighs together to ease the pressure and to get him away from where you needed him. You couldn’t do this here. He still continued to go up, until he reached your wetness. He began by gently rubbing it, teasing you. You bit your cheeks to hide your moans.

You gazed around the table, checking if anyone had realised that you were in the process of the Duke’s hand curling into your pussy. Your mother seemed to be already watching you intently. You offered her a quick smile before your attention was redirected to Simon plunging his fingers into your wetness. You turned to glare at Simon as you desperately held in your moan. Anthony, who was beside you, gave you a weird look once he noticed your expression and your mother was still watching you strangely.

After a few more minutes of everything finishing their desserts, you were finally able to leave the table and the teasing Simon was putting you through. “Simon and I are going to head upstairs for a bit.”, you waved everyone off as you dragged the Duke upstairs. “I can’t believe you just did that, my mother definitely knew something was going on as did Anthony.”, you muttered aggressively. He only chuckled in response. “You secretly enjoyed it.”, he simply stated. You had no response to that. You couldn’t accept it or deny it.

You only stared at him. “Are you going to finish what you have started or not?”, you asked with an annoyed expression on your face. He got down on his knees. “What are you doing?”, you questioned innocently. “I saw how you were looking at me whilst I licked that spoon.”, he reminded you. You said nothing. He helped you remove your ball gown and undergarments. He began lightly pushing his fingers in and out of your pussy to get slicken you up.

Abruptly, he gently placed his tongue in your slit and ran it up and down it. You moaned at loudly at the new feeling of pleasure. “Good girl.”, he praised you. That only made you more soaked. He started lapping his tongue against your folds, making you cry out slightly. You could feel your high coming. He sped up the pace of his tongue and as you came, he swallowed all of you.

“That was so good, your grace.”, you panted out. “Why have we never tried that before?”, you asked. “I didn’t whether you would want to try or if you’d be opposed to it.”, he stated honestly. He then attached his lips to your neck and bit down gently. You lightly moaned out: “Simon…”

You could feel his hardness against your body and you stared at him as you grabbed his shirt, silently asking him to take it off. He did as you said and threw it off quickly. He kissed you passionately before removing his pants and garments. You pulled him closer to you so you could feel his bulge and he could feel your wetness against his body.

He slowly aligned himself with your entrance and gently pushed his length in. You moaned as you felt his cock inside you. Once you had adjusted to his size, he began to thrust at a faster rate. You and he both moaned. “Well done, my love.” You felt yourself tighten and his cock twitch inside you. You felt yourself come undone as you felt his shoot slide deep into your pussy. “Gosh.”, you painted. You sounded like a dog. He stared at you in admiration as he softly huffed.

It was the next day and you had slept in for obvious reasons. You made your way down for breakfast and noticed Benedict pointing at you and giggling. “Hmm?”, you mumbled. Simon hastily got up towards you and whispered: “It seems that after last night, I left a few marks on you, dear.”, Simon confessed guiltily.

You headed towards the closest bathroom and noticed the massive bruise on your neck from where Simon bit it. “Simon!”, you whisper-yelled. “Sorry.”, he said as he smirked at you. “Do you have a scarf or something?”, you questioned.

You walked back into the dining room with a red scarf around your neck and everyone offers you perplexed looks except the ones who had worked out what had happened, they silently laughed at you.

#simon basset #simon basset x reader #duke of hastings #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader #fem!reader

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targaryenluvs · 5 months

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Hii! I saw that you like au's so i ask if you can make a time travel au?

Where the modern reader goes to their time and meets simon, he falls in love and asks her to marry him but she gets weirded out bcs she is still so young and doesnt plan on having children.

Dark-ish plsss? 🥺

Totaly get it if you dont want to write it, up to you 🌹

Thank you

(this was pretty short but here!)

warnings: darkish simon? young reader (16ish since she’s young but nothing happens!! pushy and possessive simon, implied fem!reader and poc!reader MADE UP ROYAL NAMES IDK HOW IT WORKS

notes: (my writing usually tends to lean towards an indian reader i’m sorry i don’t even realise when i do it 😭) i’m going to make a part two and post it tomorrow since i actual love this idea!!! you’ll meet simon!

Infatuation

summary: the one where you somehow travelled into your favourite tv show along with your family. and as you debut in society, you catch the eye of a certain duke.

part ii

shonda rimes was nothing short of a goddess in your eyes for her casting abilities.

you’d been obsessed with the books ever since they came out and the second you’d heard of it being picked up by netflix you screamed so loud your family thought you’d died.

it was the release day of the first season and you had to meditate before watching since your heart was absolutely running hundreds of miles inside.

you’d settled into bed, had your favourite snacks to your side and your emotional support water bottle clutched in your arms as you pressed play.

you’d overestimated the power of meditation to calm you down, and underestimated the power of warm cocoa.

you’d dosed off after the second episode, and you were aware of it as it happened. the sounds of your favourite show lulled you to sleep and you’d never felt happier.

but after a while, you’d realised the sounds never really faded away, they became, stronger?

the sounds of the bickering bridgertons echoed through your head, preventing further sleep.

what the fuck?

as you opened your eyes, you felt, energised.

and as you rolled over you couldn’t believe your eyes.

daphne bridgerton by your side?

“y/n, are you alright?” she questioned as she closed her book, giving her undivided attention towards you.

you reeled your shock back in as you cleared your throat, “uhm, yes, i’m alright. where are we?” daphne smiled at the question, “we’re at my home.”

you nodded as you took it in, you fell asleep last night in your own bed and woke up in your favourite book, great!

this was quite literally the epitome of all of your daydreams and you couldn’t believe it was happening. you took into account that if you were with daphne you were most likely good friends with the bridgertons, you looked down and saw your nightgown, definitely not the same pjs you wore to bed, your hair was in a braid, and-

“since you’re finally awake, let’s get ready. i’ll send the maids in! i’m so excited and nervous for today y/n/n. this is our day!” she gushed as she allowed the maids in.

our day? this most likely meant that this was starting of like the first episode. oh god, you were going to meet everyone. anthony, benedict, violet- oh god you loved violet.

the next hour was a blur, maids everywhere, millions of dresses, hair pieces, jewellery sets and so on. you’d settled on a (obviously) white dress, with a diamond like waist details, puffy sleeves, gold details/flecks around the sleeves, a tiara, bracelets and a sweet yet simple necklace. daphne had on a similar dress, but the details were different and she wore a feather in her hair.

gods, she looked amazing. the two of you stood in the middle of the mirror, clutching eachothers arms as maids touched up your hair. “you look phenomenal sister.” daphne spoke to you admirably. over the hour you realised many things, the two of you had been friends since kids despite your age gap, your mothers being the best of friends and the same for your fathers, and since hers passed the two of your families had only grown closer.

your own family were very well-known amongst the ton. your father, being marquess of anderton, lord y/f/n l/n and your mother, lady y/m/n l/n, and your brothers, eldest son, earl of anderton lord b/n, and lord b/n. then you, the youngest, lady y/n l/n.

your brothers were also best friends with the bridgerton brothers, your eldest and daphnes, your second with benedict and colin due to their shared/similar responsibilities as second/third sons. but they all got along, nothing happened in the bridgerton family without you knowing and nothing happened on yours vice versa.

you all usually visited eachother whenever, living not too far from eachother. your town home being larger than theirs, and anderton being an three hour ride from london, your country estate being much larger. you were wealthy as hell and you loved it. not that you weren’t back home, but obviously nothing like this.

you still couldn’t tell if this was a dream. usually in your dreams nothing seemed as realistic as this, and you had free reign of your body, you controlled your body, nothing odd had happened, no floating unicorns, no random nightmares, nothing. all realistic. and despite your age gap of of roughly four years, yourself and daphne got along well, she at first saw you as a younger sister and soon enough, her best friend.

even if it was a dream you’d take as long as you could here.

as the doors opened yourself and daphne stood proud and happy. the nerves dying down after you reassured one another.

your mother and lady bridgerton stood infront, teary eyed. “our girls! you look-” “breathtaking.” anthony cut his mother off as your families stood, shocked.

daphne squeezed your arm as you walked forwards, you were so relieved to see your family looking all the same, just a change in clothes, and it was odd. everyone looked so- regal! somehow your brothers had cleaned up.

“enough fussing! let’s get going now.” daphne spoke as you all made your way down. “are you going to marry a princes sisters?” hyacinth squealed as you and daphne laughed, “i wish! we do not know who we are marrying yet sweet hyacinth, that’s what the social season is for, to meet people, make friends and to meet the person you’ll marry. soon enough you’ll be in our position and you will have a line of suitors waiting for you.” you answered sweetly as she grinned from ear to ear before it was struck down by george.

“don’t lie to her! the men won’t be lining up to get to her they’ll be running to get away!” he joked as hyacinth gasped, “how dare you?!” she shouted as she chased him down the steps. for some reason this all felt, right. you felt like you belonged here. once you’d gotten past the initial shock everything just came to you so easily. the manner of speech, how to act, what to say etc.

maybe it was due to your constant daydreaming of being here but it was so easy.

“kids slow down please! you will hurt yourselves!” your mothers shouted at the same time. you were all one big family and you loved it. it was like double the love, and whilst the bridgertons may not have had their own father with them any longer, your father did his best. he spent time with the brothers and sisters, giving the support they needed, doing what he can for the children of his best friend, his family.

you had really underestimated the chaos of the bridgerton family.

you were surprised your own mother wasn’t greying in the hair at the constant bickering and fighting. but at the end of the day you knew everyone loved eachother. but right now you wanted to lunge across the carriage to strangle your eldest brother.

“it’s no big deal.”

“you’ll be fine stop fussing.”

“what’re you worrying for.”

as if this wasn’t one of the biggest days of your entire life. you had to make a good impression upon the queen, god knows the gossip in this town else wise would drive you into a hole.

“i am sorry sister, i should do well to remember the seriousness of today, i apologise.” he responded, reaching across to grab your glove-clad hand, squeezing in support.

“we should all remember the seriousness of today. but do not worry, our dear y/n will do well, i believe it wholeheartedly. you are sweet, confident, intelligent, understanding and so much more my daughter. you will find a good husband, someone whom you love preferably. but otherwise a good man, someone deserving of such an amazing woman as you and it doesn’t matter if you do not marry this season either. there is always the next. if you are not ready you should say so now.”

you’d never seen your father so absolutely understanding. you would’ve thought. especially in this day and age that he’d press you to marry but no.

“eloise has postponed her debut has she not? would it be alright for me to do the same? at ten and eight she will debut and so will i. i fear i am still to young, a lot of the others are older and know more than i.”

“no one knows more than you dear sister.” your other brother spoke up with a smile, “besides eloise of course.” he said as you all laughed, “very well then. we do not have to explain ourselves to anyone and i will send forth someone to relay the message to the queens servants and withdraw your announcement card. and i am not against the idea of keeping you caged up with us for another year. the dread!” your father joked as you all laughed.

the debut had gone better than you could’ve wished for. besides a fainting or two, and you having to endure prudences whining and complaining. the queen seemed to favour daphne and you could not have been more thrilled for her. the two of you chatted everyone’s ears of at dinner to the point where you were separated from sitting together, which did nothing as you both spoke from across the table!

at home you were restless.

your room was much larger than your own.

but you loved it nonetheless.

you couldn’t help but continue to think, you hadn’t woken up yet, you’d literally spent an entire day here, and you hadn’t awoken. you’d pinched and slapped yourself which earned you a few strange looks from the maid that you’d forgotten was in the room and nothing. you hadn’t woken up, annoyed at leaving the bridgerton world.

what you were most excited for was to meet more people if you woke up tomorrow. penelope slipped through your fingers due to lady featherington fussing over her, lady danbury hadn’t been seen, you hadn’t been able to visit madame delocroix nor anthony’s opera singer and perhaps the most disappointing of all,

simon.

you had the fattest crush on him, especially after seeing him in the show. if you woke up tomorrow, you were going to make sure to see everyone you’d missed.

and at the top of your list.

a certain duke.

and if you’d known what would happen once you met him you would’ve steered clear of him.

#bridgerton x reader #simon basset x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #duke of hastings

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sharmabasset · 2 months

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Matching hotties

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤

Simone Ashley attends 16Arlington fashion show February 17th, 2024

Regé-Jean Page attends the Charles Finch & Chanel 2024 Pre-BAFTA Party, February 17th

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thedukeofhastingssexyrobe · 1 year

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DAPHNE BRIDGERTON and SIMON BASSET

↳ BRIDGERTON - Season 1 . Episode 4

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becasworldsstuff · 10 months

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Can i please request a romantic Simon Basset x OC/reader fic? Simon being completely in love with her since they were young, but since his father told him to go away, they separated. They met again.

-> Pairings: Simon basset x reader

-> warnings: none

Simon basset and miss l/n had always been friends, thing caused by her bubbly nature that could outshine the sun even in an August day. She was the only one with whom he could talk without stuttering, he felt at ease and nothing could really make him sad if she was near him. Her presence as a reminder that not all in life was sad and angry at him, that not everyone was disappointed in him, on the contrary she never made him feel bad about himself.

When the old duke of Hastings sent his son away due to the problems he was causing to his own mental health, the two were separated, nothing in means of letters or visits between the two for years if not the memories captured together and the burning sensations in the part of their body that the other touched, or the single pink flower dried out inside Skmon's favorite book that she gifted him as a reminder of the beauty hidden behind fragilness. Both the young hearts were left shattered thinking they would never see each other ever again.

But in his drawer were piled up letters written in his best calligraphy and on the best paper money could buy, for his best friend and little piece of heaven, who had been his own safe place in the mess his childhood had been.

It was her who motivated him enough to return to his old house when the man died, and he found her on the steps of his big place, with glimmering eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed. He stopped in front of her with his mouth that had gone dry, she had grown into the most exquisite young lady he had ever seen or imagined to lay eyes on, his eyes widened and his hands were begging for something to grasp onto to not loose balance while she watched him, she took one step forward and his heart skipped a beat. Even if he only realized now he could pinpoint her as the only woman in his life to which he could ever truly love, but he stayed silent, catching up with her like old times, not stuttering like when they were just little kids playing in the garden not caring about duties.

The days passed and the season started, now miss l/n obviously came from a very wealthy family and her kindness and beauty were known upon the society, but this was her first season, and her older brother and father refused to give away such a perfect girl to anyone so, when they catched up with the Duke longing stares they decided to talk to him, a man of honor, well bred, wealthy. Simon never in his life thought that he deserved for his dreams to become reality but he knew he was a duke and her best solution to this world of strange couples, so he was the one to go talk to her father, asking him her hand in marriage and bowing down on one knee with watering eyes as he proclaimed his love to her:

" never had I ever experienced such strong emotions nor strange feelings, my stomach flutters and my troath goes dry as if I was denying myself with water for you, you make my heart stop and the dream of seeing you walk down the aisle to me has been my favorite image for my life. So please accept my undying love for you because I cannot breathe if I'm not near you, neither I can eat or drink or sleep away from you, you are my sun and my moon and every single star in the sky, my whole body was created to match yours and my core only exists to love you and adore you, you make me burn like I was in a fire that cannot die. So please do me the honor and let me make you the duchess of Hastings "

Her response was awaited from the ball room that had just seen him pacing in front of the doors before barging in and stopping the dance that was occurring at the time, she held her breath and nodded slowly while forcing herself to blink as I'd to make herself realize that that moment was true.

#simon basset x reader #duke x reader #duke of hastings #brigerton #the duke x reader #childhood friends to lovers #bridgerton fanfiction

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sunflowertwin-22 · 6 months

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Patiently waiting for Bridgerton Season 3 to be released 🥂

#bridgerton #violet bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #duke of hastings #eloise bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #shondaland #julia quinn #bridgerton family

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rizzoreads88 · 1 day

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The Men of Bridgerton declaring their love..❤️

The Duke: “To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend in the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart.”

“I burn for you “

Anthony:”You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you.”

“I Love You. I've Loved You From The Moment We Raced Each Other In That Park. I've Loved You At Every Dance, On Every Walk, Every Time We've Been Together, And Every Time We've Been Apart.”

King George: “I love you! From the mo…From the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall, I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near; I love you Charlotte. My heart calls your name…I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know.”

Can’t wait to see what Colin’s swoony declaration is ❤️

#bridgerton #simon hastings #queen charlotte #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #fictional men #the duke and i

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bridgerton-bitch · 2 years

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I give you, the gorgeousness that is Penelope Featherington.

Bonus:

Pen and Eloise being besties

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #netflix #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton cast #bridgertons #colin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #netflix orignal series #penelope featherington #polin #simon duke of hastings #violet bridgerton #nicola coughlan

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hiyyihrts · 21 days

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I know Simon a freak in the sheets from this excerpt alone

#bridgerton #daphne hastings #simon hastings #daphne bridgerton #simon x daphne #daphne x simon #saphne #bridgerton season 1 #bridgerton s1 #the duke and i #julia quinn #bridgerton shitpost

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thebadgerclan · 2 years

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Away

Pairing: Simon Basset x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Simon returns from a week in London...

Smut!

An emergency session of parliament had been called, meaning Simon had to depart for London immediately. He likely wouldn’t be gone for more than two weeks, but you never liked it when your husband had to leave you at Clyvedon. You could go with him, but it simply wasn’t worth it to pack up and trapse to London, only for Simon to be occupied all day. Besides, most of your acquaintances would remain at their country homes, leaving you bored out of your mind.

You stood on the steps of Clyvedon watching as the servants loaded your husband’s luggage into the coach. Simon exited the house and pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from your face. “As do I,” you replied. “But you must. And when you return, I might just have a surprise for you.” Your husband raised his brows, smirking down at you. “Oh? What sort of surprise?”

“Well, I cannot tell you, or it will not be a surprise.” Simon sighed exaggeratedly, and you pulled him into another kiss. “I shall return as soon as I can, my love,” he promised, and you gave him one more kiss. “I will miss you, Simon.” “And I, you, my darling. I love you.” With one final kiss, Simon departed, and you watched until the coach was no more than a speck on the horizon before returning inside.

***

A week and a half later, Simon returned. He sent a letter ahead telling you he would return that evening, and you set your plan into motion. If the servants knew why you wanted two dozen candles set up in yours and Simon’s rooms, they said nothing, only helped you to position them around the room and light them shortly before Simon’s arrival. You changed into one of Madame Delacroix’s more scandalous nightdresses; sheer pink silk and lace that covered little paired with your dressing gown, which you draped over your shoulders. Your hair was loose and hanging over your shoulders, and you laid yourself seductively on the bed.

Simon was eager to see you after a week and a half apart, so his first question to Jefferies was where he could find you. “Her Grace is in your chambers, Your Grace.” Simon nodded curtly, hurrying up the stairs to your room. When he opened the door, he was quick to shut it when he saw what was inside. “My God,” he whispered. “I should go to London more often, if this is what I’m greeted by upon my return.”

The Duke slinked across the room, undressing as he went, never taking his eyes off of you. The thoughts of what Simon might do to you had you wet and wanting him before he’d even arrived home, and seeing your husband stripping for you only increased your arousal. “Simon,” you breathed, and you sat up, reaching out to touch him. He pressed his lips to yours and brought his hands to your shoulders, pushing your dressing gown and nightdress down, bearing your breasts to his view.

Slowly, Simon trailed his hands down your body, goosebumps rising in their wake. When you were both bare, your husband laid you on your back, kissing you deeply, though his touch avoided where you wanted him most. “Simon,” you said, wriggling your hips. “Beg for it,” he said, voice low and raspy. “Beg for me to touch you.” He knew his resolve wouldn’t last long, after so long without you, but he wanted to hear you say the words nonetheless.

“Simon, please, touch me!” you cried, gripping his shoulders. “Please, I ache for you! Please, Simon, I need you!” The Duke moaned, pressing his lips to yours as he shifted so his hips were aligned with yours. You were more than aroused enough for Simon to enter you without preparation, and you let out a long moan as his cock entered you. Your husband began thrusting; gentle, deep thrusts that had you biting your lip and digging your nails into his shoulders.

Instinctually, you made to quiet yourself, but Simon drew your lip from between your teeth with his own, biting gently. “I wish to hear you, my sweet,” he said, breath ghosting over your lips. “Let me hear how good I make you feel.” Your husband shifted the angle of his hips so the head of his cock was pressing into your sweet spot with every thrust. You let out a shuddering breath followed by a moan, and Simon smiled, kissing you hard.

“Lord, I missed those sounds,” he praised. “Barely two weeks and it feels like an eon.” You nodded, grinding your hips up against Simon’s, his pelvis rubbing into your clit. Your chests were flush, and you could feel his heart beating against your breasts, and you knew that your husband could feel yours. “I love you,” you blurted, too overcome by pleasure and emotion to say anything else. “Simon, I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” he said, kissing you softly. “Are you close, beautiful wife? I do not think I can last much longer.” You moaned loudly and nodded. “Yes, Simon, please!” He grunted, snapping his hips a bit harder, feeling your cunt begin to clench around him. A moment later, you let out a wail, pulling your husband into a kiss as you came. He thrust a few more times before withdrawing, spilling himself into the sheets, unwilling to risk bringing a child into the world until you were ready.

As soon as he could move, Simon pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead and stroking your back. You snuggled into his chest, humming happily as he pulled the sheets over you. “Promise me that you do not have to go back to London until the Season,” you said, running your fingers over your husband’s stubbled cheek. “I do not think I can bear your absence any longer.”

Simon tipped your chin up to kiss you, and you melted into his embrace. “Of course, my darling. I shall simply toss any summons from the Prime Minister into the fire.” You laughed softly, and Simon did as well. “Good,” you said. “But you ought to write back and tell him that your wife is your priority.” The Duke chuckled. “I shall do just that, my love.”

#simon basset x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #the duke of hastings x reader #simon hastings x reader #bridgerton fanfiction

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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Title: Pleasing The Duke {6}*

Duke of Hastings/Rege Jean Page x OFC Jemilla “Jemi” Remmington

Warning: Plot, Regency Historical Piece, Angst, SLOW BURN,

Words: 5.3k

Summary: After your four weeks on the marriage mart and the tumultuous way your and the duke’s budding friendship that turned into a faux courtship, then a real crisis that could have tarnished your name forever, you are now married to the duke. Only this is no traditional marriage. The duke has professed to never fall in love, never get married, and never sire an heir, a matter you know nothing of. Furious that his wanton, lustful desires have gotten him to forego one of those vows, he is determined not to break the other two. That would usually be an easy feat. Only with you, it might be more challenging to keep those vows, seeing as no matter what, you are the only thing on his mind.

Note: Inspired by Rege Jean Page’s portrayal of Simon Bassett. This fic will not have any other characters from the series, except Lady Danbury, mainly the portrayal version of her by the incredible Adjoa Andoh and maybe Queen Charlotte portrayed by Golda Rosheuvel. This series will focus on The Duke and an OFC female character and will be a sultry and erotic historical romance. Anyone under 18 is advised not to read.

***Glossary of terms at the end of the chapter for period-specific words/items for greater comprehension.

***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Julia Quinn’s characters, nor the Characters established by Bridgerton.

I own the rights to the original characters created in this story.

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Chapter Six: A Gentle Hand

Cold air raced up your spine, but a warmth was settled in your gut. The combination sent a shiver through your body. Moaning, you moved closer to the solid frame you felt against you. The warmth you found there was searing—comforting. Again, you moaned and tried to get closer. You wanted to be so close that the warmth was all your own. You draped a leg over the solid frame and settled falling back into a slumber. However, it was not restful. Your mind was plagued with visions of a storm. Raging winds wracked your person sending you this and that way. Thick, cold mud clung to you, almost pulling you deeper into the earth.

When your visions calmed, you were met with hypnotizing eyes, full lips, and strong hands. Those hands touched you so possessively, so urgently. The face that came with those features was Simon’s. You could not make much out, but his words came to you in disorganized speech that was difficult to comprehend. When you thought you could make something out, the images changed. His lips remained and they were pressed to yours.

Slowly, your eyes batted open. It took several moments for your vision to clear and steady. Once it did, you recognized your bedchambers. All was silent, only the soft crackle and pop of a fire could be heard. Early mornings were usually your favorite time of day. Everything was quiet, but you knew that everyone was on the move preparing for the start of the day. You liked to laze around in your bed listening to the birds chirp and watch the sunshine dance across your bed.

You could hear the sounds of the chirping birds but though the sun brightly beamed through the windowpanes, it did not dance across the bed. Instead, you took notice of something else in your bed—or someone. You trailed your eyes up from the midsection of a body up, up, up until the bare chest of a man peeked from under the bed sheets—a very well-defined bare chest. Your breath caught then your throat tightened. Bringing your eyes higher, you found Simon’s glued on you. He did not move or speak, matter of fact, he seemed to be staring through you rather than at you.

It took only a few seconds to realize he hadn’t realized you were awake. You glanced around again trying to understand what in the world had happened. On the floor beside the bed, you saw discarded clothes and your imagination went into hyperactivity. Again, you glanced up into Simon’s eyes. They were bloodshot with dark circles around them. He looked downright exhausted. Had he not slept?

Just then, you recalled the storm and it slowly dawned on you that it had not been a dream, but a memory. Were you ill? Simon sucked in a breath then his body tensed.

“Jamilla,” he breathed reaching over to you to press his hand to your forehead.

The touch felt foreign but familiar. An image of him doing the same before filled your mind. Had he done it before? Simon continued to assess you with concerned eyes.

“Someone come forth! Quickly!”

You caught his eyes and noticed they looked tear filled. Simon avoided your eyes looking every which way. He tucked you tightly, so you now shared deep resemblance to a log in a lake. The doors opened and in came Mrs. Butler with your maids.

“My lady,” Leesil began on a shriek. “Thank heavens we all were so worried.”

Worried, you thought. Had things really been that bad? It was after all, just rain. You’d been caught in plenty of rainstorms. You looked to Simon again, but he still avoided your eyes.

“My lord, the doctor has come,” Bridget announced as a tall man dressed in plain clothes entered the room.

“Good. Come doctor, see to my wife.”

With those words, Simon slipped from the bed whilst grabbing a discarded blanket that rested at the foot of the bed. He used the material to wrap himself from the waist down which told you he was very much nude while he was lying beside you. Oh my, you thought. While the doctor slinked to the side of the bed to tend to you, your eyes roamed Simon’s frame for a few moments taking in every inch of skin that was on display for you. Before long, Simon sprang into motion, excusing himself from the room entirely on some hushed whisper. What in the world was the matter with him?

~~~~~

-Simon-

Blast it!

The anger he felt was leagues past mere anger. He was fuming. This was all his fault. After hearing a detailed account of the events leading up to your disappearance, he’d learned just how at fault he truly was. If only he’d been more attentive, more accommodating rather than avoiding you. If only he’d been warmer perhaps there wouldn’t have been quite so many misunderstandings. Your words from your drunken delirium in the rain came back to him.

“Th—they must all la—laugh at—at—m-me seeing you ca—cann—cannot stand to b—be near m—me.”

Taking the steps two at a time he dashed down them needing to feel the cold morning air whipping against his flesh.

“Do you not. You have said such in every way since I stepped beside you in that church. You have said such in every move you make, every word you speak no matter how nondescript. In every breath you breathe you wish me gone.”

His chest hurt from the rapid beating of his heart and no matter what he did to hold the air in his lungs it never worked. He ended up feeling as if he hadn’t gotten any at all. Seeing the door across the stone lobby, he sped his steps.

“You already hate me so this should be a blessing for you. Wifeless, free to resume your rakish ways.”

Once the ornate metal doorknobs were tightly clasped in his hands, he yanked them open thrusting himself out into the elements. As soon as he stepped out, the crisp morning air slapped him in the face like a welcomed awakening to the new day. Taking gulp after gulp of the air he forced it into his lungs hoping that chased away the panic surging through his body.

It did not take long to realize this would not be enough.

“Horse! F----F--Fe--Fetch—my hor--horse!”

“Yes, my lord.”

He did not know who’d said it, he could hardly focus on breathing let alone whose voice he’d heard. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the tips of the doctor from his childhood. He had not had a bout of hysteria since he was one and six, He thought he was long past this stage especially having faced his father regarding his abandonment. Apparently not, he thought.

Before long, a footman approached with his horse, Zeus. Not waiting for the horse to stop he took quick steps and leapt up swinging himself onto his trusted steed.

With the reins in hand he shouted, “Hiyah!”

Zeus took off into the open greenery much like a fast-traveling lightning bolt as it split the sky before rainfall. The breeze was now whipping around him sending his banyan flapping behind him. Lightly he flicked Zeus’ reins prompting him to go faster. For as far as he could see it was open land—his land and he had not one worry.

“Then why have you abandoned me? You hate me so much you would rather not eat with me, not sleep beside me, nor see my face. Just admit it.”

He clenched his jaw thinking of that word. Abandoned. He wanted to throw himself off the horse. Never in his plans had he wanted to ever make someone feel the way he’d felt his entire life. Discarded, neglected, repulsed, abandoned. You felt abandoned by him because of his actions.

“Hiyah!”

Turning Zeus toward the dense tree grove, he steered him through the dangerous low hanging branches and broken wood. He only had seconds to make the right decision to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders and it was what he enjoyed. He had learned long ago that he was somewhat of an adventure seeker. It was evident in his travels to exotic and distant lands and even his interest in boxing, fencing, archery, hunting and a few others. Many of his friends suspected he had a death wish and liked to see which sport would claim his life. Perhaps they were right.

Giving Zeus a heel to the abdomen, he signaled him to jump over the coming fallen branches. Seconds later he had to duck to avoid his cause of death being beheading by wood. No matter the speed he was going or the danger he was thrusting himself into he still was not going fast enough to outrun your voice or the pain he saw in your eyes.

He could not believe you did not know. It was in this moment as he ducked and from doom and leapt into the air from danger that he realized just how innocent you were. He had never entrained an innocent, never bothered, or dared to even attempt to. He knew he was far to damaged to be trusted to not twist and morph another to mirror himself. Horror filled his heart, but it was not from the shattered tree trunk that was in his path fiving him no way to avoid it.

As Zeus’ impulses took hold skidding himself to a stop, he went flying through the air, over the broken wood and flat on his back several feet away. The collision knocked the wind right out of him making him see spots and fog. By the time his vision cleared he was leaned against the tree taking steady breaths.

“Blazing Devils!”

Flinging his head back he groaned as it collided with the tree which sent another torrent of curses from his lips. He deserved the pain; he deserved the agony he was in right now. Your face came to mind as did the memory of your body pressed against his all through the night. The ache coursing through him died down and was replaced with the fire of his desire for you. Gods help him he desired you more than he had ever desired any other woman. It baffled him beyond measure.

Sitting there he slowly went over every detail of the night before, every feeling, every fear and came to terms with them. He was at fault in this situation, and he had to rectify it. He knew his mother would be ashamed of him and how he’s behaved around you. He also knew his father would probably be proud seeing his own coldness and aloofness in him. Perhaps he would finally accept him then.

“Sod it all,” he mumbled.

“You must conquer the past Simon, either you conquer it or it will make a fool of you in your present and all the days of your future.”

Lady Danbury’s words never went too far from his mind. He had heard them echo all through his childhood at the most inconvenient of times. It was as if she knew way back then the struggles he would continue to have well into adulthood. Turning his head upward he caught sight of the sun that was now beaming down on him through the branches of the trees he was surrounded by.

With the intense glare, more of Lady Danbury’s words flitted to his mind. These words she had uttered on the day you had wed.

“She hath a kind and quaint heart, tread carefully and be gentle with her. Do not snuff her light out, let it in.”

She was the closest to a mother he’d had, and he loved her dearly. She had often teased him asking how he could love her but swear to never love anyone. She understood the difference but enjoyed teasing him by pointing out he was capable of the emotion. He still needed proof and if the last few weeks were to be it, only one thing was clear, he was more capable of destruction than love. Something deep inside wished of him to be proven wrong. It was a wish he had never allowed to see the light of day. It lived in the darkest alcoves of his heart.

After returning to the estate, he had a better hold of his emotions and thoughts. The guilt still wracked him, but it was easier to hold it at bay. As he jumped off his horse, his steward informed him of the doctor waiting in the drawing room to discuss your health. With haste he found the man in the midst of a cup of tea admiring the roses.

“My lord.”

“Please, no need for formalities doctor. Thank you for coming with such haste.”

“Tis a pleasure to serve the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.”

“Please continue your tea,” he said as he sat across from the man and allowed him to take another sip of tea.

“To your liking?”

“Very much, my lord.”

“Good. How is she?”

The doctor cleared his throat then set his cup and saucer down before he began.

“The duchess’ breathing is quite labored, quite too labored if you ask me. I am inclined to believe she has some pulmonary infliction, and a minor draft. She has coughing bouts which is slight worrisome for me. If this is left untreated it could lead to more serious conditions.”

“Will she recover?”

“I believe she will. my advice is to keep her warm, ensure she gets plenty of rest, I have written the recipe for an herbal tincture that I wish to be made into tea for her to drink three times a day for sennight. Sun will also do her good. With this there is no reason the duchess will not recover.”

The relief he felt must have been evident. The doctor smiled.

“Tis refreshing to see a man who loves his wife so.”

He nodded but did not reply. “I assure I will bring the duchess back to good health.”

“Happy to hear it, my lord!”

After allowing the doctor to finish his cup of tea he relayed the orders to the house instructing them on the proper way to care for Jamilla. Once that was squared away, he retired to his chambers to clean himself up from his impromptu ride.

~~~~~

-Jamilla-

“My lady.”

Snapping your head to the right you found Brigit and Leesil both standing there with concerned looks on their faces.

“Y—Yes,” you rasped before clearing your throat ignoring the tightness in your chest.

“Do you feel well? You gave us quite a fright,” Bridget added.

“I am sorry to have worried you. But surly it was not that bad.”

Leesil’s eyes widened even further. “Ma’am, it was a horror. You were unconscious, shivering cold one moment, hotter than a flame the next, your lips were quite blue. Mrs. Butler was certain the estate would have claimed another Duchess of Hastings.”

Your curiosity piqued then. “An—,” A cough wracked your body that quickly escalated into a bout lasting longer than you liked. Both Bridget and Leesil approached you attempting to sooth and assist you any way they could. When the coughing finally passed you took the glass of water that Leesil held out for you.

“Goodness.”

You fanned your face and hoped that the burn in your chest would subside sooner rather than later. When it finally dwindled to a slight ache, you looked at Leesil needing to know more.

“What do you mean the estate would have claimed another?”

Leesil looked to Bridget hesitantly before she looked back to you. “Leesil please,” you urged.

“Do you not know of the history of this estate or the Hastings’?”

“I have heard the basics. The Duke and Duchess married and eventually had a child, but the duchess passed away.”

“The previous Duchess did expire—shortly after she delivered the duke, in this estate in a room that has been blocked off for decades.”

You’d heard that his mother passed on, but you did not know it was during childbirth.

“She passed on alone, save for Lady Danbury,” Leesil finished.

Your eyes widened. “Alone? Why? What of the Duke? Where was he?”

Leesil’s face twisted into a scowl of disgust. “Flaunting his long awaited, newborn son to anyone with eyes. He cared not for the wellbeing of the Duchess. Quite shameful! Me mum loved the Duchess and has never forgiven the man for how her last moments went.”

Your heart broke hearing the accounts of the past. The late duke sounded like a heartless man. Part of you wondered if that was who Simon aspired to be. Was the way he treated you the way his father had treated his mother? Suddenly a flash of a memory came to mind. It was a memory of Simon treating you completely different than he had for the last several days.

“Is something the matter?”

“Was—Was I alone while I was ill?”

Again, Leesil and Bridget glanced at each other before they turned back to you.

“No ma’am. The duke accompanied you,” Bridget informed.

“All night,” Leesil added.

Your eyes widened again as another image came to mind. Simon’s arms were wrapped around your body pulling you against his very much nude one.

“The entire night?”

“Yes, my lady,” they answered in unison.

You squinted your eyes trying to press the edges of your mind to give you more memories. The more they came the more you did not understand. None of what you imagined made sense because none of it revealed more than flashes. Hands on your body, chest pressed to yours, your face buried in a neck, lips, fabric, and heat, plenty of heat.

“I would say the duke must possess healing powers to have revived you within one night,” Leesil teased making Bridget giggle.

Before you could reply, the door opened and in walked Simon like a ray of sunshine on a gloomy morning. Your eyes could not help but follow him as he walked in and around the four-post bed to you. Everything and everyone else faded.

“Bridget, Leesil I will take it from here.”

“Yes, my lord,” they replied in unison reminding you that they were there in the first place.

Once the door closed behind them, you looked back to Simon who was now seated on the side of the bed he’d gotten out earlier in the morning. His eyes were on you as he was trying to read every hidden emotion or thought behind your eyes.

“Are you well?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

Simon pressed the back of his hand to your forehead then hummed. “You are not as hot as you were in the night. That is a bit of good news. I have brought your breakfast and medicine. Would you be interested in eating?”

Slowly you nodded. Simon began uncovering the dishes and bowls on the trey that was now on the bed. As he revealed the food your hunger awoke reminding you that you had not eaten since the previous day.

“What shall we begin with? Perhaps a spot of tea?”

Again, you nodded. As you moved for the teacup, Simon beat you to it and lifted the porcelain to your lips. You hesitated for a moment but took a sip from the cup and rejoiced inside as the fruit and floral notes hit your senses.

“I found it a delightful surprise hearing you add rose and mulberries to your tea.”

“It gives it sweetness and turns it--.”

“Delicate,” Simon finished.

Your eyes lingered for a few moments before he lowered the cup back to the trey. A soft scoff escaped him, “It suits you.”

Bit by bit Simon raised fork and spoonfuls of food to your lips, taking care to not give you too much at once and to keep your face clean. You were practically beside yourself seeing this side of him. It was so unlike anything you’d seen from him before. Surly when you’d first met you’d made up your mind of him labeling him as a rake, then it slowly transitioned into him being a libertine. There is where it remained no matter how quickly you found yourself becoming mesmerized by his charm and alluring maleness. He was so unlike any other man you’d met before, so delectably unique. The more you learned of him, the more traits he begrudgingly revealed of himself you found him bearable and quite tortured. Along the way you got it into your mind that perhaps all he needed was a true friend, or someone to heal whatever tortured him so. Was it silly? Perhaps.

Over the last weeks, his distance, aloofness, and complete avoidance of you of course changed your perspective of him entirely. You had begun to see how silly you were during those weeks of the season where you paraded around with him in hopes of steering prospective suitors away from the both of you. It was clear he was suffering from the ghosts he carried with him, and no one could save any man from that torment, he himself would have to best them.

Here he was though, sitting across from you taking care of you with such gentleness it made your heart ache. His actions were not hurried, they were the opposite, it seemed as if he wished this moment to stretch on for as long as possible. Even the way he spoke telling you news from the residents of the acreage, well wishes for your health and the distinction between what the residents did for the land was different.

His tone was softer, there seemed to be a calm melody to his words that relaxed you. It had been weeks since you felt this at ease with him. It was an ease that you did not worry what he was thinking of you or if he disliked you. In this moment you could read him clearly. He was behaving like a man who actually cared about his wife. You would be lying if you said having him there didn’t make you happier.

Once breakfast and your medicine were finished you rang the bell for your maids, wishing for a bath.

“Open water is forbidden while recovering.”

You sighed at Simon’s words dropping your shoulders in disappointment. You’d gained an affinity to regular bathing. There was something peaceful of sitting in scented warm water and being left alone with your thoughts and the sunlight.

“Yes, my lord, my lady?”

“Worry not, Mrs. Butler,” you informed.

“Mrs. Bulter, please begin preparations for the duchess’ evening medicine.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Also, warm a basin of water and bring it here please.”

“Yes, sir.”

You were curious what he needed the water for but did not question him. He held up two books before you with a smile on his face.

“Idealistic poetry or swashbuckling tales of adventure?”

You smiled and leaned against the wooden headboard. “Only if this swashbuckling adventure you speak of is of a heroine and not a hero.”

Simon chuckled. “I dare say I have learned my lesson and have steadfastly filled the library with plenty of tales of heroines thrust into in a variety of adventure, some more lewd that genteel company would not dare speak of.”

Your eyes widened as you gently swat at his arm. “Simon!”

Again, he chuckled. “Forgive me my lady, a swashbuckling adventure it is. Are you comfortable?”

“Quite.”

“Then we begin. “Ahoy, who goes there,” Lady Philomena Vanquest shouted with her sword in hand.”

You sighed watched him as he read to you. Within the first few pages your eyes closed and you envisioned the story playing out before you. His voice serving as the perfect tool to bring everything to life. His voice was easily your favorite thing about him. He had a voice that could work magic on a lady in the dark pressed against a wall--the voice that could seduce even the most unwilling bedfellow. His voice easily conjured feelings of lust and desire and it had been this way from the very beginning.

“Jamilla? Jamilla.”

Your eyes fluttered open and there he was peering at you with concern. The sun that was once beaming in the room was slowly disappearing.

“Are you well?”

You moaned then sat up. “I fell asleep.”

“You did. I did not know my voice bored you so to catapult you into unconsciousness,” Simon teased.

“I promise it does not.”

“No?”

Your eyes met and locked. “No,” you whispered.

Simon smiled then nodded. “Good to hear.”

A knock at the door brought both of your heads to watch Mrs. Butler, Bridget and Leesil walk in, each carrying different things. Mrs. Butler carried a trey of clothes, Bridget a basin, and Leesil a stack of fresh clothing and small glass bottles.

“What is this?”

“While I cannot in good faith allow you to submerge yourself into water, I can offer a compromise,” Simon said motioning for the items to be put down.

The steam from the large basin told you it was freshly heated. Across the surface of the water rose, daisy, peony, lilac, sweet briar petals danced while filling the room with the aroma of the garden you loved to spend your time in.

“My lady, I have also added the honeysuckle and jasmine oils you enjoy,” Bridget added.

A smile spread across your face as your heart warmed. “Thank you.”

“I take it this option is to your liking?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“Good. Thank you everyone, you may leave.”

Alarm rushed through you at the meaning of his words. Did he intend to stay as you did it yourself or would he do it himself?

“Seeing as this terrible predicament is my fault entirely, I offer my services. Tisn’t been a fortnight since we married and already you are battling illness. I fear your mother and brothers would skin me alive.”

“Twas I who--,” you began only for Simon to cut you off, claiming the blame for himself once again. Accepting defeat, you nodded.

“Thank you for your consideration.”

“Bridget you may stay to assist.”

“My lord,” Bridget replied.

You watched Simon roll the sleeves of his half unbuttons white shirt and dip his hand into the basin to swirl the water around. He did it so slowly that your eyes could not look away. When he dipped a clean cloth into the water, the flower petals clung to it. Once he’d wrung the water out, he came closer and brought the cloth to slowly wipe your face with gentle strokes.

Your senses elated from the smells enveloping you. They should have calmed you, made you feel at ease but the way your heart was rapidly thudding in your chest said they were doing the opposite. However, you believed the culprit this time was not the flowers but the nearness of your husband as he for the first time assisted you with something so intimate as a wipe down.

You wondered if he could hear your heart. Could he hear the horse hoofs’ gallops going off inside of you as loudly as you heard them? He dipped the cloth into the water again and repeatedly his actions then brought the cloth to your neck. Everywhere he trailed the cloth, the heat from the water soothed your muscles taking some of the ache of your ordeal away. When you felt him slip to the back of your neck you lowered your head giving him easier access. The feel of his fingertips along the bone at the back of your neck had you gasping and clutching the blankets across your lap.

Simon slowly brought the cloth around and dipped inside the lite material of your shift to your shoulder. As he went over it a few times goosebumps broke out over your flesh.

“Bridget,” Simon uttered, his voice sounded clouded, as if he had to force it out.

You wanted to look at him so badly, wanted to see if his face gave anything away to how he was feeling or what he was thinking, but you could not. Something inside of you prevented it. As Simon busied his hands in the basin again, Bridget came to your side of the bed and began lifting the shift you wore off of your body replacing it with a lite muslin cloth.

It was then your heart beating really took off. You were now nude in front of him for the second time and this time was not any less nerve wracking. Albeit this time you were still covered, even the thin muslin left little to the imagination. suddenly an image of your nude body underneath Simon’s came to mind. His lips were pressed against yours as was every inch of his hard, lean and powerful body. The feel of cool air brought you back to see your lower half exposed to Simon’s sight. The muslin rested atop you, but he brushed it aside revealing one leg. Bringing the heated cloth to your ankle he slowly wiped upward then down only to do it again and again until he wiped all around. Your belly was in flight and your heart was seconds away from bursting. How could one man elicit such a strong reaction?

You watched as the cloth returned to your knee and trail a torturously slow path up your thigh. When Simon’s hand dipped to your inner thigh you noticed a shake. Bringing your eyes to him, you saw the focus on his features. It was as if he were pressing every inch of your skin to memory to revisit later. You could not help but wonder when later he would think of this? In bed perchance?

When his hand made it several inches up your inner thigh he retreated and moved to your other leg. You watched every move he made but not because you did not trust him to respect you, but because you wanted to remember this for your own revisit. You wanted to watch his hands roam across your body as you envisioned the cloth not there.

After Simon finished your lower half a new basin that mirrored the first came. On Bridget’s instruction, you leaned forward revealing your bare back for him to wipe. The chance of his fingers raking down your back made you arch, dipping it inward. A groan escaped Simon then, it was a groan that made a part of you that you’d never knew of awaken. It felt like part of you deep inside your gut had fallen and it ached. Oh, how it ached.

Simon brought the cloth up and again his fingertips made a trail. This time that ache made you moan. Simon sighed out suddenly sending a puff of air across your flesh. Another image came to mind of the same thing happening only along your breast. That made you press your fingertips to your lips. Were these memories? Dreams?

“My lady.”

Looking to your right you met Simon’s eyes, but he did not speak. You saw the action he inquired in his eyes. Consent. Hesitating you took several breaths, none of them worked to slow your heart, none of them helped to calm your nerves. Your governess’ words rang in your head.

“Ones husband is entitled to look upon his wife in any capacity he chooses.”

Before now you’d always wondered just what she meant. Look upon how? Now you understood. Your throat was dryer than barren land in the prime heat of the summer months. You swallowed then slightly cringed hearing a small gulp echo around you. He must think you such a naïve wallflower, you thought. He didn’t budge, he just waited and waited and waited for you to grant him said consent. biting your bottom lip, you chewed at it until you were certine it was raw. Then you released the muslin you grasped so tightly at. The fabric fell to bunch in your lap revealing you in the setting sun’s light to your husband. As it fell you felt his warmed breath brush against your newly exposed breasts.

Before it was candlelight he’d seen you and from a distance. They both afforded you some mystery but now he was inches away from you with ample light. He could look as he willed. You watched Simon’s eyes lower and slowly rake over your bodice. Every second his jaw jumped showing the definition of his jawline. He was handsome from the front but from the side—his profile was a thing of beauty.

As he dipped the cloth into the basin again you heard him mumble a curse, you’d heard plenty a time.

“Blast it.”

When he raised the cloth to your collar you held your breath. It was not intentional but you felt the only way to get through this without leaping off of the bed either into his lap or out the door was to restrict your brain of oxygen so it would decrease its ability to think. It was perfectly logical, you theorized. The folly in your thinking did not occur to you until halfway through when you realized Simon’s movements were so slow, so torturous that he hadn’t even made it past your collar before white spots danced behind your eyes.

“Breathe Jamilla,” Simon whispered.

On command you did just that and that was when you felt the cloth swipe across your breast. Immediately, you felt your nipple pebble as another huff of warm breath skirt across your skin. Simon wiped over, around and under your breast then did the same to the other before dipping the cloth down the center of your body to your stomach.

Alarm rushed through you. Was he really planning on going that far? Your governess had not given you any tips or information about this. Was he going to touch you? The anticipation made you shiver and just when you were certain you would shoot off the bed into the air, Simon’s hand stopped just below your navel. His eyes were squeezed closed, jaw clenched tightly and hand shaking. Seconds later, he pulled away and held the cloth to Bridget.

“You can assist the madam better than I.”

With that, he abruptly stood beside the bed then bowed his head to you.

“I bid you farewell, my lady. I shall return for dinner—if you will have me.”

For far too long the silence stretched in the room when Simon’s eyes met yours and his thick brow shot up you realized you’d been sitting there incapable of speech. A nod was all you could muster. Simon’s eyes dipped to your bare breasts and again his jaw went haywire. He turned then strode to the door leaving you alone with Bridget, a body full of anxious energy and a head full of thoughts definitely not suitable for a woman from genteel society.

One thing was clear, within these images you were having and the current encounter there was one commonality—he had not persisted. He had in fact pulled away from you. He really did not want you at all—in any capacity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glossary:

Term “One and Six”: In Regency Era it was common among some to refer to ages over single digits as both numbers. EX: 16 = one and six. Of course, this isn’t always the case, it would depend on the region and the class of people.

Hysteria: Commonly referenced in Regency time which we in modern times would call panic. Could also be referenced to regency word Vapors which is usually when someone is going through a “panic attack” with the hyperventilating, agitation and or bouts of fainting.

Banyan: A men’s dressing robe usually worn at home. Think of a woman’s robe but for men. Could be elaborately designed, thick, or as thin as preferred.

Sennight: A time lasting one week.

Blazes: Euphemism for hell or the devil.

Blast: Equivalent to the modern terms sh** or damn.

Sod It: Equivalent to the modern statement "F**k it" or "Damn it."

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