Benedict’s look of frustration is fleeting. He doesn’t want to be denied a kiss (or two) but he also finds that he’s enjoying the denial, or the way Silver gently commands him to do this or that. Maybe that’s why his lips part, or maybe they do it naturally while his breath catches in throat.

“I can do that for you,” he says at last, referring to Silver working free the buttons of his breaches. But Benedict doesn’t reach forward. He waits to see if Silver allows him too, which gives him another rush of adrenaline, pressing his fingers eagerly into Silver’s thighs where his hands rest.