Though he has never allowed himself to indulge in it, Benedict is secretly something of a hedonist. This moment, with all of Ninon's pale, lovely skin pressed against his, fulfills something inside himself he has almost never looked at. If he was given his druthers, he might wish to remain here for hours. Sadly, he knows he will have to leave well before the night is through, but for now, he can indulge.

"Well, I had mostly been expecting to bid you a good night and return to my bed alone."

He had certainly not imagined he would be sitting in her bed, with her hands brushing across his chest, her knees bracketing his hips.