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“Strip! Strip! Strip! Strip!”
Penelope was four shots and half a bottle of wine in and somehow she was still not drunk enough for this.
The model-esque woman next to her made a show of shimmying out of her shorts, leaving her only in a lacy bra and deep black tights barely hiding the red of her underwear. The woman kicked her shorts off at one of the men across the table while everyone else cheered.
Well, nearly everyone.
Penelope just laughed along nervously, staring a hole into the last drops of wine in her otherwise empty glass. The sudden slosh of pinot noir pouring into it made her startle, liquid sloshing over onto her hands.
“Sorry. You looked like you could use it.”
Penelope looked up to see Colin Bridgerton smiling down at her, his boyish cheeks flushed under his tan as he pulled back the bottle of wine and drank directly from it. He slumped back into his chair next to her as everyone around the table returned their cards to the dealer.
“Thanks.” Penelope raised her glass and nearly emptied it again. He was right.
Strip poker.
After her rather lackluster breakup with Alfred, a man she hadn’t even liked, really, Penelope had thrown caution to the wind and taken Colin up on his offer to fly her out on his latest trip. They were following an organized itinerary from the Andorra tourism board with a dozen other influencers. They’d done the hikes, gone to the museums, stopped at every instagrammable café they could find, and had ended up there, sitting around a table in some mansion rented by the board playing fucking strip poker with people who looked three seconds away from walking a runway.
Penelope downed the rest of her drink.
“Next round!” The dealer slapped down cards around the table while the others chatted and refilled their cups.
Penelope glanced at her hand, silently groaning at the awful cards she’d been dealt. Reaching over, she pulled the bottle from Colin’s hand and took a drink.
“Not much of a poker face, Pen,” Colin slung his arm heavily over her shoulder and whispered in her ear.
Penelope shivered as his breath tickled against her neck. He’d already lost his button-up—thankfully not his tank top, though the thickness of his arms alone had been responsible for her third and fourth shot—to the game and she’d lost her cardigan. The warm press of his body against the bare skin of her arm did nothing to help her composure.
Normally, Penelope could handle being around Colin like this. They’d known each other since they were kids. They’d seen each other through their awkward teenage years of pimples and puberty, they’d seen each other through the many style changes of finding themselves at university, and they’d seen each other through the fake new hobbies and personalities that came with trying to force relationships that just didn’t work—her with Alfred, him with Marina years before. Sure, Penelope had loved him through all of it—a fact he was blissfully unaware of—but she had grown used to hiding her more aching feelings in favor of nurturing their friendship.
But, whether it was the breakup, the alcohol, or the fact that he was the only familiar face in the crowd, Penelope’s control seemed to be slipping.
She was hyperaware of his every move. Especially when he reached out and shook her shoulder, his fingertips pressing warmth into her skin.
“Your turn, Featherington.” Colin nudged her.
She shoved the bottle back into his hands and folded before the flop was dealt.
The round ran its course and another player lost his socks.
Again and again, the group played and drank. One woman ended up in a bikini’s worth of undergarments, one of the more obnoxious men did a lap around the room fully nude before the pair of them bowed out to go “smoke” in the pool. Penelope lost her shoes, the sheer tights under her skirt, and the bandana she’d had wrapped up artfully in the bun of her hair. Colin took off his shoes, socks, and jeans.
She could hardly take her eyes off of him. There was just so much of him to look at. Sure, she’d seen him in a shirt and boxers before. Early mornings at Bridgerton House, sleepovers with him and his sisters at his flat or hers, but that didn’t make her any less affected by him. If anything, seeing him like that while surrounded by gorgeous strangers only made her more aware.
It didn’t help that Colin wasn’t exactly like all of the others around them. Sure, he was gorgeous—he’d been the subject of every fantasy she’d ever had, the model for every love interest she’d ever written—but he wasn’t thin or toned or chiseled or rugged like every other guy sitting around that table. No, Colin was tall and strong with broad shoulders and large hands but he was soft, too. His biceps were large but not ridiculously toned—they’d make for the dreamiest pillows, she just knew it—his midsection wasn’t flat or hard but had rolls when he sat and filled out his shirts so perfectly it hurt to look at him sometimes, his face was still round as if he’d never lost the softness or joy of youth, and even though he was sitting with his chair pulled all the way up to the table, Penelope just knew his thighs and ass were—
Her gaze wandered down from his thin black tank top to his matching boxers only to notice his leg bouncing nervously as he looked down at the cards in his hand.
Penelope reached out and put her hand on his knee beneath the table, trying not to think about the warm skin of his thigh, the soft give of him, the coarse hair under her fingertips. She cleared her throat and tried to joke, “What are you nervous for? I’m the odd man out here.”
Colin snorted at how slowly she was speaking—Penelope’s attempt not to slur her words—and grabbed her hand, lifting it from his leg but not letting go, as he took another drink of wine. “You can’t be the odd man out among strangers.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Penelope shook her head, the hearts on the cards in her hand blurring as if they were beating in time with her own. Penelope set them down to take her own glass, waving it around at the table, full of beautiful people while she sat there pale and short and rounder than any of them. “It’s just, look at them, at you.”
“Me?” Colin arched an eyebrow and emptied the bottle of wine.
“You.” Penelope nodded. A flurry of activity at the table drew her attention away from him. Everyone showed their hands and Penelope groaned as she lost. The chanting started up again and she was just drunk enough to stand and yank off her shirt before she could lose her nerve. She stumbled slightly as she whipped back around to look down at Colin. She gestured to herself, her knee-length corduroy skirt and plain blue bra, the bare skin of her chest flushed red from the alcohol, as if to prove her point. “Just look at me.”
“I am,” Colin mumbled, tugging on her wrist to pull her back into her chair.
“Alfred never did,” Penelope grumbled under her breath. She tossed her cards back at the dealer and put her elbows on the table.
Beside her, Colin leaned forward to pass his cards back. She could have sworn she heard him mutter, “He’s an idiot.”
Penelope just laughed and took the cards that were passed to her. Another two rounds came and went and, whether it was the alcohol or the way no one seemed to bat an eye at the fact that her stomach wasn’t flat and her skin not perfectly smooth, Penelope felt strangely comfortable sitting there playing hands with a room full of beautiful strangers. Alcohol or not, maybe there was something about the casual bareness of them all, the laughter and the novelty, that helped her feel more relaxed in her own skin.
On the third hand, Penelope folded early and left the table to search out another drink. It took only a minute for her to return with two beers in hand, the sound of chanting filling the room again. She glanced around to find who the unlucky player was only to see everyone’s attention turned towards Colin.
Penelope pressed one of the cold bottles against his shoulder, making him jump as she stepped up beside his chair. “Come on Bridgerton, take it off.”
Colin laughed, running his hand along the neckline of his tank top. “Buy me a drink first.”
“And what’s this?” Penelope tapped his shoulder with the beer again. The chants around them were growing more incessant.
“Right.” Colin took the beer and set it on the table.
The hard thud of the glass caught Penelope’s attention.
He really was nervous.
She could see it in the way he worried the hem of his shirt between his fingertips, the way he shot jokes back at the people chanting across the table, the way he still hadn’t moved.
It hit her, then. She had never seen him shirtless.
Nearly fifteen years of friendship and there had been low cut tank tops, muscle shirts, even a sheer mesh crop top that time he and Benedict drove Penelope, Eloise, and Francesca to Pride, but she had never ever seen him completely shirtless. He always wore t-shirts in the pool and even his more thirst-trap-style posts—of which there were surprisingly few, though it probably shouldn’t have been surprising considering his brand as an influencer was highlighting international cuisine—were fully clothed.
Penelope blinked, her head spinning slightly—probably from the alcohol, but it felt like it was from the sudden shift in her understanding of the man beside her—and set her beer down on the table with a solid thud.
“Hey!” Penelope called out loudly, just enough to catch the attention of the crowd. She reached out to take Colin’s hand and lifted it up so everyone could see. Gently pulling off his father’s ring he’d worn since the funeral, Penelope waved his bare hand for everyone to see. “Done! You all can finish without us.”
There was a chorus of complaints and wolf whistles as Penelope kept her hold on Colin’s hand, pulled him out of his chair, and drug through the house.
He followed with a low chuckle, the pair of them stumbling up the stairs and into the room they were sharing for the trip. Penelope let go of his hand and fell back on her bed—one of two in the room—holding out his ring on her palm.
“Thanks.” Colin took it then sat on the other bed, facing her but looking down at his hands.
Penelope laid back and turned her head towards him. “Sorry. I know you don’t like to take it off.”
Colin shook his head. “I trust you with it.”
Penelope hummed, debating whether or not she wanted to ask what was on her mind. It felt intrusive, but her curiosity was eating away at her already-lowered inhibitions. “You looked uncomfortable out there.”
Colin let out a single laugh, his eyes raking over her before standing to go towards the open suitcase across the room. “We left our clothes downstairs.”
“Oh.” Penelope glanced down at her own exposed body; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been around someone other than Eloise in just a bra and not felt self-conscious. She never thought she’d be comfortable like this around Colin, especially. “Do you want me to go get them?”
He just shrugged, pulling a pair of sweatpants and a new t-shirt out of his suitcase.
Penelope frowned at his back. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, especially after all of the drunken silliness had seeped out of the room.
But it didn’t seem fair.
Colin was always so confident and charming. He always seemed so comfortable in his own skin. It wasn’t fair that Penelope had somehow settled into herself right as he closed himself off.
Letting out a quiet huff, Penelope shoved off of the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist as he stood, effectively pinning his arms to his sides.
Colin chuckled, tilting his head back to try and look at her. “Forgot you were a cuddly drunk.”
“I’m not.” She was, but that wasn’t the point. Penelope pressed her cheek to his back and snuggled closer. “Want to talk about it?”
Colin sighed, his chest rising and falling under her hands. “Are you going to let it go if I say no?”
Penelope nodded. “Not letting you go, though.”
Colin laughed again, dropping his clothes and pulling her hands off of him. When she started to protest, though, he simply turned around and hugged her back.
Penelope shivered as his hands came to rest on the bare skin of her back.
“Cold?” He rubbed her back, his touch raising goosebumps from her lower back to her neck.
Penelope shook her head. She copied his motions, running her hand over his back twice before letting her fingertips catch under the hem of his shirt. Colin stilled under her touch but she continued, slipping her hands under his shirt and letting them rest on the bare skin of his back.
“Pen…” Colin’s hands fell to her hips, his thumbs brushing over the swell of skin above the waistband of her skirt.
“This okay?” Penelope mumbled, nuzzling her cheek against his chest.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Colin tightened his hold on her and nudged her back. When her fingertips slid from his back around to brush his stomach, he reached down and quickly pulled her hands out from under his shirt.
“I’m—” Penelope bit her lip, holding back her automatic apology. She really didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but he already was and she knew Colin too well, knew that whatever was bothering him probably went deeper than even she could tell. So, instead of apologizing and backing down like she normally would, Penelope shook her head. “No. You can talk to me about anything, Col, you know that.”
“I know,” he groaned, letting his head fall back. After a moment, he let go of her hands, picked up his abandoned t-shirt, and pushed it into her arms. “But I can’t talk to you like that.”
Penelope felt her blush flare from her cheeks to her chest. She scrambled to pull the shirt over her head, some of her earlier self-consciousness creeping back in. “Sorry.”
“Pen, I didn’t mean it like that.” Colin frowned, raking his hand through his hair when he saw her expression. He let out a heavy breath and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. “It’s just…you’re so beautiful.”
Her face grew even hotter. She played with the hem of the shirt he’d given her as she walked over to stand in front of him. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but he looked like he needed space to figure out what he wanted to say.
“You’re so beautiful and everyone out there—” Colin waved his hand towards the door. They could hear laughter and chatter drifting in from the floor below. “There’s an expectation, you know? To act a certain way, look a certain way. With brands, with being an influencer, hell, with being a ‘Bridgerton.’”
Penelope flinched at the way he practically spat his family name. Unable to stand the distance any longer, she stepped up and sat next to him on the bed. She hesitated only a moment before putting a hand on his leg.
He covered her hand with his. This time, he didn’t pull her away. “Sometimes I feel like such a stereotype. I travel the world eating and it’s like people expect me to be…big, like this. And my family always makes comments and I know they don’t mean anything by it, but it’s just…Anthony forced me to join the boxing club in uni, to ‘toughen me up,’ get me in better shape, did you know that?”
Penelope shook her head and flipped her hand over to intertwine their fingers. She knew he’d joined and that he hadn’t particularly enjoyed it. She had no idea Anthony had talked him into it.
“I hated it. It’s not that I’m lazy, it’s just…” Colin laid back onto the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. “I’d rather walk around a new city or hike some hidden trail than lift weights for hours while absolutely miserable.”
“It sounds absolutely miserable,” Penelope remarked, relieved when he laughed along.
He offered her a small smile and lifted their hands so he could hold them on his chest. “What’s worse is I don’t even care how I look. I like my lifestyle and I want to like the way I look but it’s like the whole fucking world tells me I shouldn’t. That I’m a bad person, a failure as a man, if I don’t want to do better, look better.”
Penelope sat in silence, her heart aching for him. The alcohol in her system was still a dull buzz in the back of her mind, but it didn’t stop her from knowing exactly what he meant. She knew that struggle, the mental gymnastics of telling herself she didn’t care even as she scrutinized every imperfection. She hated that Colin knew how that felt. Colin, of all people, who always went out of his way to make everyone around him feel comfortable and cherished.
He deserved that, too.
“Alfred always told me he didn’t care,” Penelope began, not turning to look at Colin as she spoke. She felt his hold on her hand tighten. “Not about himself, of course, but about me. My hair would become unmanageable when it was humid, he didn’t care. I’d break out or be bloated because of my period, he didn’t care. But I didn’t want him to not care.”
“He was never good enough for you, Pen,” Colin interjected.
“I know,” she smiled, turning on her side so she could see his face, “but that’s my point. I thought it was good, at first. He didn’t care if I wasn’t at my best. I thought that was how it should be. But it never made me feel good. It was like…it made me feel like he was tolerating all of my flaws. That there was some sort of scale of all the good things that outweighed the bad just enough to make it worth it. To make me worth it. I don’t want someone who tolerates my flaws, who doesn’t care when I’m not at my best. I want someone who loves the parts of me I struggle to, who makes me feel special when I just…don’t. Without changing or making me feel like I could be better if I did.”
“I don’t want you to change,” Colin’s whisper came after another beat of silence. He was still staring up at the ceiling, his brow furrowed slightly. “You’re already so special, Pen.”
“And so are you.” Penelope tugged her hand free and sat up so she was looking down at him. When he didn’t look at her, she reached out and put her hand on the side of his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to be anything you don’t want, but you should celebrate who you are.”
Colin cleared his throat and shrugged. “It’s hard when no one else does.”
“I do. Colin, you are one of the best people I know. All of you.” Penelope stood up, glad her head was clear enough she didn’t stumble, and held her hand out to him. “And you should see it, too.”
He propped himself up on his elbows and looked from her hand to her face. Penelope could practically see him debating whether to brush her off with some sort of joke or let her in. She knew how hard that vulnerability could be. She felt it, thrumming alongside the alcohol in her veins. If he took her hand, if he let her show him how she saw him, there was no doubt in her mind that the love she held for him would bleed through.
He would know. She had no doubt that he would be able to see right through her if she let him.
But it would be worth it. If it would banish the shadows behind his eyes, it would be worth it.
Another second passed and he reached out and took her hand.
Penelope led Colin into the walk-in closet connected to their room and pushed him to sit on a plush ottoman positioned in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. He looked up at her warily, his shoulders squared and stiff.
Worried that perhaps the mirror would be too much, at first, Penelope let go of his hand and sat across his lap.
“Your eyes are the most remarkable shade of blue,” Penelope reached up and cupped his face in both of her hands, pulling him to look at her, “but they shine even brighter when you are kind.”
Colin glanced over her face, his hands coming to rest around her waist.
Penelope lifted her hands to rake through his hair and continued, “I love when you let your hair grow out. It’s so soft, reminds me of Eloise.”
Colin snorted, a small smile breaking out on his face. “I’ll assume that’s a compliment.”
“It is.” Penelope grinned and let herself indulge in playing with his hair until Colin closed his eyes and his shoulders started to relax. From there, she slid her hands down his neck and traced circles over his shoulders and down his arms. “You give the best hugs, you know.”
“I’ve heard that,” Colin remarked, but she noticed how his shoulders tensed again. “Hy calls me a teddy bear.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She paused her movement and squeezed his arms. “I know I’m short, but I don’t often get to feel small. Your shoulders, your arms, your height…it’s like I can get lost in you. You make me feel safe. I don’t get that often, either.”
“You deserve to,” Colin mumbled, his voice thick. His hold on her waist shifted so he could pull her into a hug.
Penelope wrapped her arms around his shoulders and, her heart pounding in her chest, pressed a kiss to his temple. “So do you.”
Colin’s grip tightened as he buried his face in her neck.
Penelope shivered as his breath tickled across her skin. If he hadn’t pulled away, if he hadn’t realized how she felt—or, at least, if he hadn’t rejected it—yet, she could be brave and keep talking. She would.
“I love how I can sit here,” Penelope let one hand fall from his shoulder to trail along his thigh, solid and sturdy, beneath her, “and know that you’ll hold me.”
“Always.” Colin’s lips brushed against her neck. “As long as you’ll let me.”
Penelope shivered, her pulse so loud in her in her ears she had hardly heard him. She felt like she was floating, like she’d passed out from the shots and was living in the most beautiful dream. If it weren’t for Colin’s hands around her waist, the warm press of him against her, she would have been sure she was imagining it. Sure, Colin had started acting strange the minute she started seriously seeing Alfred, but Penelope had never believed Eloise’s claims that he was jealous. It was unimaginable that he could see her that way. She’d wanted it for so long, it was more likely to be some wild fantasy, only…
Penelope leaned back, putting one hand on his chest, the other on the softness of his stomach. He looked up at her, his posture still relaxed, his mouth slightly open.
“Don’t laugh, but,” Penelope paused, letting her hands slide down until she caught the hem of his shirt. “I love your appetite.”
Colin reeled back slightly, a disbelieving smile on his face. “What—”
“I’m being serious!” Penelope giggled, covering his mouth with one hand and tugging on his shirt with the other.
He pulled her hand from his mouth, kissing her wrist once before he let her go. “It’s okay.”
Penelope searched his face for any uncertainty and, finding none, stood as she lifted his shirt over his head.
Colin exhaled shakily, his eyes fixed on her as she dropped the shirt and circled the ottoman.
Penelope knelt on the cushion behind him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, the other around his waist, her thumb rubbing gently over his stomach. She nudged her cheek against his so that he was forced to look forward into the mirror.
“I love your appetite,” she began again, smiling at Colin’s small snort, “because who else would try all of the TikTok recipes I make?”
“You could probably trick Greg,” Colin joked. Penelope couldn’t help but notice how his breath quickened, the soft planes of his body moving under her touch. “He’s had a crush on you forever, you know.”
“He’s a sweet kid.” Penelope took a deep breath then let her hands wander, her nails catching in the hair on his chest. Colin went still under her touch, but his expression in the mirror wasn’t one of discomfort. It was hunger. It helped keep her bold as Penelope leaned down and kissed his shoulder. “I love how indulgent you are, not just with food but with life, adventures, your stories. No one loves as fiercely as you. You feel everything so strongly, sometimes it tears you apart.”
Colin closed his eyes and put his hands over hers, pressing her deeper into his skin. “I’ve spent so long trying to feel less.”
“You shouldn’t,” Penelope murmured against his shoulder.
Colin turned around on the cushion and moved his hand to the side of her neck. “Even though I hated seeing you with Debling?”
Penelope put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, her heart pounding as she tried to follow his change of topic. “Why?”
“Because he wasn’t me.”
Penelope’s breath caught in her throat, her whole body freezing for just a second before she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
Colin kissed her back without hesitation, catching her bottom lip between his, his hand moving to tangle in her hair.
Penelope whimpered against his lips as his fingers caught in her bun, tugging at the roots. She felt Colin start to pull back so she pushed forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tracing her tongue along the seam of his lips.
Colin opened his mouth, letting her deepen the kiss even as he half-stood to change position. Without ever breaking their kiss, Colin moved to sit with his back to the mirror, his knees parted wide to straddle the cushion so she was kneeling between his legs. His hands dropped to her hips, his fingers kneading at the skin under her shirt.
“Take it off,” Penelope mumbled against his lips.
Colin lightly bit her bottom lip before leaning back to yank the borrowed shirt over her head. Her bun got caught in the fabric and they both burst out laughing as he paused to untangle her hair.
When he finally tossed the shirt and her hair tie to the side, Penelope caught her reflection in the mirror over her shoulder and groaned. “I look a mess.”
“But you’re my mess.” Colin grinned, cupping her face in his hands. “I love your hair, especially when it’s wild like this. Like the evening sun.”
Penelope’s heart swelled as he leaned forward and kissed her again, much more gently than before.
“I love when you let me stay in and watch movies with you when you’re on your period,” Colin added, kissing the words to the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her temple. “I love that you let me see you at your worst. Love when you let me take care of you. You don’t do that enough.”
“This was about you,” Penelope grumbled. She tugged on his hair to pull his head back, letting her duck down and kiss the underside of his jaw.
Colin chuckled breathlessly. “This is what I mean.”
“Shut up.” Penelope nipped at the base of his neck as she slid off the cushion to her feet.
Colin’s laughter died in his throat as Penelope trailed her lips over his chest. She let her nails scratch mindless shapes across the slight swell of skin over the waistband of his boxers, across his hips and abdomen as she kissed, licked, and nipped at every inch of his body she could reach. There was just so much of him and she loved it, loved having more of him to explore, to touch, to mark, if he’d let her. He moaned as she paused to catch his nipple between her teeth, soothing it with her tongue before kissing across his chest to do the same with the other.
His hands slid up from her waist to cup her breasts over her bra, kneading over the smooth fabric. Penelope hummed against his skin as the fabric and pressure rubbed against her hardening nipples. She arched into his hands just for a moment before pulling away.
She was determined to make this about him.
“Pen,” Colin groaned as Penelope kissed his stomach—lingering, nuzzling her face there a moment so he knew he was loved there, especially there—before sinking onto her knees in front of the cushion.
“Come here.” She tugged on his hips, dragging her nails down over his thighs as she urged him to move closer to the edge of the ottoman.
Colin moved as she wanted even as he shook his head. “You don’t have—”
“Do you want me to?” Penelope paused, her fingertips resting inside the legs of his boxers. “Because I want to.”
“Are you sure?” Colin cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over her cheek.
Penelope let all of her love and desire show on her face as she looked up at him and nodded. She turned her head and kissed the inside of his thigh. “Please?”
Colin exhaled loudly as he shifted to pull down his boxers. Penelope couldn’t help but lick her lips when she finally saw his cock, erect with a single drop of precum leaking from the tip. She reached out and swiped it away with her thumb before putting her finger between her lips.
“Fuck,” Colin moaned as she pulled her thumb from her mouth with a soft pop.
She smirked, she couldn’t help it, but she was in earnest when she said, “I love that you’re letting me do this.”
Penelope leaned forward and licked over the length of his cock—he was big there, too, of course he was. She kept her eyes on him as she wrapped her lips around him. His hair was disheveled from her hands, his stomach twitched showing those rolls she loved so much as she kissed the tip of his cock, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, his neck and cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark, his hands clenching the edge of the cushion.
She’d never wanted him more.
She pulled off of him and reached out to rub her hand over the thickness of his thigh. Her hand looked so small against him, oh how she loved it. “I love that you’re letting me see you like this. You’re beautiful, too, you know.”
Colin’s mouth fell open, a strangled moan breaking from his lips as Penelope ducked down and began to work her mouth over his erection in earnest. She swirled her tongue around him as she took him down as far as she could manage, her hand on his thigh moving to rub the base of his cock, already wet with her spit. His hand flew to her hair, and she moaned around him as he tugged, urging her to move faster.
His hips jerked forward when she moaned so she did it again, trying to keep his tip pressed against the back of her throat so he could feel it deeply. She didn’t have a chance to pull back before he involuntarily thrust back into her throat.
Penelope pulled back coughing and spluttering, her cheeks red as she tried to catch her breath.
“Shit, Pen, I’m so sorry.” Colin reached down and practically pulled her up off of the floor, settling her on top of his thigh. He wiped the tears and spit from her face, apologizing over and over.
“I’m fine,” Penelope assured him, clearing her throat as she pulled his hands away from her face. “Just surprised me.”
She leaned forward and kissed the worried frown from his face. She needed him to know he hadn’t been too much, he could never be too much for her. She slowly worked them back into the moment, reveling in the softness of his lips, letting her hands roam over the softness of his body, too. Just as her hand trailed back down to his erection, though, he pulled away.
“Wait, Pen.” Colin ran his hands over her arms, holding her close but not letting her touch wander. His expression—brow furrowed, lips pursed—made a cold sliver of dread settle in her stomach. “I don’t…I can’t do this.”
“Oh.” Penelope dropped her gaze from his face, immediately sliding off of his lap and backing towards the door. “I’m sorry. I…I shouldn’t have—”
“No, wait.” Colin jumped up and followed her. He caught her hands in his and held her in place, his grip almost achingly tight. “I want to. Fuck, I want to, but I…”
He trailed off and Penelope forced herself to meet his gaze. She could hardly believe the sheer desperation on his face—there really was no better word for it. His eyes were glistening, his eyebrows pinched, and he looked…scared. Like how she felt.
But she had been brave for him so far and he had rewarded her by standing there, bare, no hint of that earlier self-consciousness to be found and if he could do that, then she could keep being brave, too.
Penelope pulled one of her hands free and rubbed lightly over his chest. “Tell me.”
Colin closed his eyes and leaned forward until his forehead rested upon hers. He answered in a whisper, barely there, “I can’t be your rebound, Pen. I can’t, not when I…fuck, Pen, I’m in love with you, I can’t do casual with you, I can’t do a rebound, or a drunken fuck, or—”
Penelope wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and yanked him down into a fierce kiss. Her heart was soaring, beating wildly out of her chest, but it felt right. Minutes ago she could hardly believe she was touching him but she believed him now. She could see it in his face, feel it in his touch, hear it in his voice and she knew.
He loved her.
Colin Bridgerton loved her.
She couldn’t stop grinning even as she kissed him. She felt lighter than she could ever remember.
“He was the rebound,” Penelope mumbled against Colin’s lips, dropping down from her toes so she could look him in the eye as she repeated, “Alfred was the rebound.”
“What?” Colin blinked at her like he was trying to catch up with what she was saying. “Who were you dating before?”
“No one.” Penelope laughed as she shook her head. She couldn’t help it; Colin loved her and he had let her see every glorious inch of him, all the rolls and marks and lines. For once, everything felt right and she couldn’t stop smiling even if she wanted to. She took a deep breath, trying to tamp down on her giddiness as she tried to explain, “I was trying to get over you.”
His hands fell to her waist, his fingers flexing. “Me?”
“I’ve loved you since the moment we met.” Penelope reached up and caressed his cheek. “I never believed you could feel the same, so I was trying to get over you. That’s why Alfred—”
She broke off with a high-pitched yelp as Colin reached down and picked her up, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He kissed her possessively, all tongue and teeth and heat, as he walked them back into the main part of the bedroom.
Colin knelt down, setting her on the edge of one of the beds. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining, his smile trembling around the edges.
“Don’t get over me. Please, don’t get over me.” Colin’s voice cracked as he surged up and kissed her, his hands sliding up her thighs under her skirt. He leaned back and shook his head, practically begging, “Don’t ever give up on me.”
“Never,” Penelope promised, raking her hands through his hair and holding him close so she could feel his breath on her lips. “I love you.”
Colin kissed her desperately, like he needed her to breathe, mumbling again and again against her lips, “I love you.”
Eventually, Colin broke away from her mouth, his lips trailing down her neck, his hands reaching around her back to unclasp her bra. Penelope arched her back eagerly, tugging off the straps so she was bare from the waist up.
Colin sat back on his knees, kissing down her chest until he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked, his left hand on her other breast, his right tugging at the buttons of her skirt. Penelope held his head to her chest, lifting her hips so he could pull off the rest of her clothes. Once her skirt and underwear were thrown somewhere into the room, Colin continued his path, kissing down over her stomach from one thigh to the other.
He paused there, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder. Penelope held onto the hand he still had on her breast as Colin spread the lips of her pussy open with his other hand. She let out a high-pitched moan as he speared her with his tongue. He pushed into her once, twice before replacing his tongue with two fingers, the immediate stretch burning deliciously.
“Okay, love?” Colin asked, sounding just as wrecked as she felt. He continued to thrust slowly into her with his fingers as his thumb barely, teasingly brushed over her clit.
“Okay.” Penelope nodded frantically, trying to push herself down the bed to get even a little more friction against his hand. His arm on top of her held her in place. “Please, Col. I n-need more.”
“Tell me.” Colin increased the pressure on her clit just enough to make her squirm. “Tell me what you need.”
Penelope closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in the feel of him, her heavy breathing turning to moans as he worked her higher, closer.
Until he stopped, the pressure lessening, the hand on her chest lifting to hold her jaw and pull her attention down to him. “Tell me, love.”
“You,” Penelope replied, far too wound up to be embarrassed about how needy she sounded. She was needy. “I need you.”
Both of his hands on her disappeared completely but before Penelope could protest his absence, Colin was kneeling over her. She could taste herself on his tongue as he kissed her hungrily. His hand on her waist nudged her back. She went willingly, sliding backwards as he crawled over her until they were both fully on the bed.
“Say it again,” Colin panted into her mouth. He kissed her once, hard, then leaned back to look at her with something absolutely desperate in his eyes. “Say it again, Pen.”
“I need you, Col,” Penelope whimpered, putting her hands around his torso and urging him down onto his forearms, closer to her. Needing to feel the weight of him. “You’re so beautiful. I love you.”
“I love you.” Colin buried his face in her neck, sucking a mark onto her skin. His voice rumbled through his chest and she felt it, their bodies pressed so close. “I fucking love you.”
“Please,” Penelope whined, reaching down to run her hand over his cock, trapped between them. “Colin, please.”
“Fuck,” he groaned and angled his hips away from her touch. “I don’t have a condom.”
“It’s okay.” Penelope shook her head, tugging on his hair so he could meet her eyes. “I’m clean. I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen.”
Colin’s hips rolled against hers, his cock slipping through the arousal between her legs. “Fuck, are you sure? I’m clean, too.”
“I’m sure.” Penelope nodded, nipping at his bottom lip before kissing him. “I want you, Col. Need you.”
“Okay,” Colin mumbled, almost to himself, “okay.”
This time when she reached out he let her. She bent her knees even wider and lined him up with her, both of them letting out loud moans as he slowly sunk into her. Penelope wrapped her legs around him, urging him forward until he was fully settled.
“Are you alright?” Colin asked, his voice strained as he held himself still inside her.
“Perfect.” Penelope laughed breathlessly, rocking her hips against him and making them both moan.
“You are,” Colin smirked as he began to fuck her in earnest, his pace steadily building as he snaked a hand between them and played with her clit. “My perfect girl.”
Penelope shuddered at the endearment, a deep heat coiling in her gut.
Colin must have felt her body react. His hips snapped forward even harder and he lowered his head down to tug her earlobe between his teeth. “My perfect, beautiful girl.”
“Colin,” Penelope whined, her nails raking down his back. She couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the idea she’d leave a mark.
“Are you going to come for me, Pen?” Colin kissed behind her ear before pulling his hand from her clit. He leaned more of his weight on her, letting her grind herself against him as he fucked her harder. He lifted the hand covered with her arousal up and grabbed her chin, his slick fingers pressing against her lips. “You going to be my good girl?”
Penelope nodded, sucking his fingers clean as she rolled her hips in time with his thrusts.
“Fuck, Pen.” Colin groaned, his head falling against her shoulder. His rhythm started to stutter as he lost himself in her. “I love you so much. I need you to come, love. Please, I need to feel you.”
“Colin,” Penelope whined his name. She clung to his shoulders, grabbing his hair and dragging his face up to hers. She kissed him hard, her body writhing under his as he started to pluck at her nipples, his hand still wet with her slick and spit. “Colin, I n-need…I need—”
He kissed the words from her lips, pressing her back into the mattress before pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. He snapped his hips against her hard as he tweaked her nipple and spoke, “Come for me, Pen.”
Penelope shattered, as if her body had just been waiting for his permission. Her legs clamped down around him, urging him closer as Colin’s control unraveled, chasing his own release until he came inside of her with a guttural moan.
Penelope wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him to her as they both caught their breath. Their skin was sweat slick and flushed, Colin still holding himself somewhat aloft above her even as their bodies pressed together.
He kissed her, looking down at her with a wide smile and eyes bright with love and just a hint of disbelief.
She couldn’t help but giggle, her mind flooded with joy and relief. He started to move back, his cock slipping out of her as he moved to lay beside her, but Penelope held on tighter.
“Pen,” Colin huffed with feigned exasperation. “I’ll need five minutes if you want to go again. Maybe ten.”
She scoffed even though her insides flipped with anticipation at the suggestion. “Later. I just don’t want you to move.”
Colin’s expression softened. He kissed her forehead and tried to move again, but she didn’t let him. “I don’t want to crush you, love. You’re tiny.”
“You won’t.” Penelope shook her head. When he opened his mouth to protest, she pulled harder on his shoulders, trying to pull him down onto her. “I love the weight of you. Makes this feel real.”
“It is real.” He pressed a firm kiss against her lips before relenting, wrapping his arms around her as he settled his weight on her, his head resting in the crook of her neck. “I love you.”
“I love this.” Penelope hummed contentedly. She trailed her hands over his shoulders, scratching lightly through his hair. In a few minutes, she knew, the heat and mess of them would grow uncomfortable, but in that moment she felt more real, more loved than she could ever remember. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “I love you.”
The End