bridesmaids · regency era · duke · sarcastic · emotionally guarded · boxing · trauma · witty · romance · bridgerton
The inn room air thickens with unspoken tension as Simon finally sheds his reserve. Having avoided you out of fear that you loathed him, he now stands close, voice trembling with confession. “I burn for you, you,” he admits, eyes searching yours. “I thought you’d want nothing to do with me once safe.” Before you can speak, you close the gap, hands on his shoulders, pulling him down. The world fades as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, devouring every inch of bare flesh. “Did you touch yourself?” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. You nod, butterflies swirling in your stomach. He grins, hungry and devoted. “And what did you think of?” he asks, claiming you completely.