Benedict Bridgerton X Reader Novels & Stories

Now she was considering a voluntary marriage to a man who, despite his calculating nature, seemed to respect her as a person. She reached out and grasped Benedict's hand firmly. "Yes, Mr. Easton. I will marry you." His answering smile was genuine, warming his sightless eyes. "Please, call me Ben." He pulled something from his pocket – a ring box. "Adam helped me select this. I hope it suits you." The ring was elegant but not ostentatious, a single diamond set in white gold. As Adam helped Benedict slip it onto her finger, Evelyn felt a strange mix of emotions – fear, hope, and something else she couldn't quite name.

Her breasts bounce up and down as the demon thrusts into her with great force. My attention is diverted to the entry of my throne hall. Josiah and Chelsea strut through the entrance with a human male victim. “Where is my Bridge,” I mandate for response with surging rage that halts the sex going on all around me. They bow their heads as Josiah explains, “Master, we have found the Bridge, but she was taken by the Vampire King and has not left the room he took her to.”

Adrien Cross’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking. The phone lit up his palm, the screen too bright in the dim office, and was stabbing at his eyes. The words stuck, twisting in his gut like glass he couldn’t spit out: Look closer, Adrien. The traitor’s already in your bed. He read it again, like maybe he had gotten it wrong. He hadn’t. His stomach twisted, heat crawled up his throat, his breath coming out rough like his chest had closed shut. He just stood there in the office.

I asked, watching her reaction. Did she also think I slept with the chief elder? “Maybe he wants to make you and the Alpha fall in love with each other." I blinked, my heart doing several skips at once. This line of thought hadn't crossed my thoughts at all. “I mean…sharing the same bed…the same bathroom and seeing each other close all the time can do that…” Beatrice continued. But at this point, I couldn't hear her anymore as my head was already imagining it… being alone with Damon…sharing the same space alone with him...

made me shiver awkwardly. I took a deep breath, forcing the wave of emotions back. "Fine. But don't dwell on it, Sebastian. This is only an act." His eyes flashed with something beyond my reach. "Of course," he said softly. "Merely an act." And yet, as he retreated, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just entered into something much more evil than an imitative wedding. ………. The evening of Damian's dinner arrived earlier than I would have liked. Adrian's grip on my waist was tight as we entered the rich dining room. Shadows and gold darkened the air, candle fireplaces casting golden pools of light upon polished mahogany. Damian sat at the head of the table, a cunning smile spreading acro

Nothing. I look up, and my brows raise when Benedict Rider begins to approach us with an uptight face. "You scoundrel!" He seethes in a low tone to avoid attracting attention to us. "I told you to remain in your shell, didn't I? Are you so bent on destroying my family?" He growls and I chuckle. I let go of my little bride's hand and push her behind me, though, I can still feel her curious head poking out from behind.

Mum said: "Right, well, that's sorted then. Bridget, on the other hand—" she picked up the thread of her earlier story, the easy conversational instinct of a woman who knew how to smooth a surface, and Dominic responded to something she said about the fabric supplier and the table returned to its normal rhythms and I ate my dinner and looked at the window and did not look at him. He did not look at me. He did not look at my shoulders for the entire meal.

says Richard, trying to wrench it out of my fingers. “I can’t believe you’d read your girlfriend’s diary,” I retort breathlessly. “Give. Give.” At last I manage to yank it away from him and cradle it protectively in my arms. “I deserve to know.” Richard is glowering at me. “If Lottie’s chosen this guy over me, I deserve to know who he is.” “OK,” I snap. “I’ll read you out a bit. Be patient.” I flip through the pages again, fast-forwarding through France and Italy to Ikonos. OK. Here we are. Pages and pages full of the word “Ben.” Ben this. Ben that. Ben, Ben, Ben.

She gently threw the book she was reading under her pillow. " You.... are here ? "She stammered quickly, getting off the bed and cautiously made sure her sleeping dress covered her properly as she looked at the man in a black robe standing at the door . The thin waist band was tied loosely exposing his strong masculine chest and his messy hair giving her a hint that he had just woken up. He looked like he was something between an angel and a devil, inexpressibly charming, more like eye candy . " Um " he let out a single syllable

“Just admiring the view.” Sabrina blushed, rolling her eyes. “You’re terrible.” “No, I’m serious,” he said, setting the pan aside and walking over to her. His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “You’re stunning, Sabrina. Always.” Sabrina opened her mouth to answer, but his eyes caught hers, and for a moment, she could not speak. Instead, she turned away, laughing shyly, and walked him down the hall toward the living room. As she walked, Benedict's eyes caught on the faint outline of an animal-print bra showing through her T-shirt. He smirked to himself, shaking his head. "Sabrina Thompson," he murmured under his breath, "you don't even know how irresistible you are."