you’re kate sheffield. you’re in bed with your husband, anthony, after a game of pall mall with the rest of the bridgertons. you’re in your shared bedroom in the bridgerton estate, it’s practically the size of a house, with its own bathroom. it’s 4pm on a sunny sunday. his white shirt is unbuttoned, his hair messy. you’re only in your thong and a tight fitting lacy top, no bra. the duvet is strung over your calves messily, and he’s laying on top of your legs, kissing your hips. the spaces of light peeking in from the blinds are glaring over your bare stomach. youre both pretty tired but you can tell that he’s still pissed about pall mall, because you came first, and he came third. you lift your leg up slightly, not really noticing.

“don’t kick me.”