Archive of Our Own ^beta

Colin Bridgerton is always very careful to experiment with his potions in the safety of the cottage off the main house.

He very specifically tells the staff never to venture there, not for any reason, and even puts up warding charms that will repel any other human that steps within fifteen meters of the cottage’s foundation.

So when he accidentally spills a heavy dose of his latest work on his wrist and hand, Colin doesn’t panic.

He does curse a little, because the liquid is rather hot. Then, after that, he sighs in annoyance. Colin knows better than to mix a potion without proper protection. But apparently he’d been too eager to get started. It’s only now Colin realizes that, somewhere along the way, he neglected to slip on his rubber gloves. If Colin’s brew master ever found out about this, she would cuff him on the back of his head for such reckless abandonment of safety protocols.

“A careless man is a dead man,” was Master Danbury’s golden rule.

But Colin doesn’t panic. He’s about 93% certain the potion won’t kill him. The more important bit is that Colin is safe and alone in the cottage. And, well, it’s not like he wasn’t planning on testing the results on himself anyway.

Just, you know, at the proper dosage. And after it had time to cool…

Colin mops up the hot, inky black mess carefully with several dish rags that he then plops into the sink to dry. He’ll have to burn those later. Potion spill management 101. Throwing them in the trash or burying them can accidentally have unintended consequences if someone comes across the contaminated item. But for now, the sink is fine. His warding will keep intruders out.

It’s right about the time Colin has finished cleaning his hands that the potion starts to take effect. Since it is supposed to be taken orally, the good news is that the skin absorption should make the results less intense. That being said, the amount he spilled on himself is a tad concerning. At least twice the recommended amount for a known potion.

And Colin’s potion? Experimental. You’re always supposed to underdose when mucking about with experimental potions.

Heat is the first symptom. It’s a chill autumn day so the fire is crackling pleasantly in the fireplace. But Colin goes from charmingly warm to broiling in the handful of minutes it takes to clean his hands.

Colin goes to his desk and flips through his journal to the page labeled “Experiment Number Nine: Results.” He jots down the circumstances of his accidental exposure to the potion, especially his best estimation regarding how much and for how long. Then pivots to listing out symptoms as he takes stock of his body.

• Boiling Hot/ Borderline Feverish
• Heart Rate Elevated
• Stomach Clenching (Anxiety? Anticipation? Upset Stomach? Unclear at present.)
• Dry Mouth
• Horny

That last one is somewhat to be expected. But the accompanying hard-on that goes from zero to sixty without any other accompanying stimuli? Not so much.

Colin palms himself through his trousers as he adds this symptom to the bottom of the list. He’ll have to adjust the amount of butterfly wings and heartwood extract next time. It’s supposed to be a love potion not an aphrodisiac.

Love potions are tricky things to brew. Illegal too. But Colin is interested from a purely academic standpoint. He simply wants to know if it’s possible to craft something that’s more consensual in nature. Less of a cruel tool to twist someone’s nature and more of a sneaky resource that will simply… unearth what’s already there.

At least, that’s what he told Penelope when she asked what he was up to in the cottage.

It’s the same half-truth that he’s been trying to convince himself of too.

Because it’s hard to admit that he’s been floundering in the love department. Five years after his botched engagement, Colin is still reluctant to open himself up to romance. Marina had shaken his confidence. He thought he loved her and look how that turned out!

So even though he’s on the apps (Spell Bound, Mixr, and even Tarot) Colin can’t seem to persuade himself to swipe his wand right or heat their cauldron or whatever gimmick is supposed to match him with a potential partner. And when he does manage, once in a harvest moon, to connect with someone via the apps? Well, Colin can’t seem to make it past the first or second date.

He wants love. Desperately. Colin desires connection and intimacy and a family. Needs it with increasing urgency the longer he goes without.

It’s just… he doesn’t know how to find it. Nor does he trust himself anymore to recognize the real deal over mere infatuation. So Colin just thinks it would be easier if there was something to… help him along. Not something that would force an artificial or temporary sense of love and devotion. Never that. But rather, a potion that will activate if he meets…well, his soulmate seems like asking for too much, but something close to that. A kindred spirit. He needs the potion to recognize the potential for compatibility. Then steal away all the uncertainty, self-doubt, and fear to allow Colin to simply fall.

So Colin has spent three years just researching ingredients, chemical reactions, and potions theory trying to figure out how to achieve those nebulous outcomes. Then the last ten months have been devoted to development and testing. The latter of which has proven to be even more challenging than the brewing process itself.

The problem is a love potion is meant for two people. The drinker and the target. Colin is missing one half of that equation. But he refuses to drag someone else into this harebrained scheme. Both because of the illegality of the project and also because of the dubious nature of consent while under the potion’s thrall. What if he takes advantage of some poor person? Or he picks another Marina as his lab partner and then it’s him who ends up being taken advantage of? No. Absolutely not on both fronts.

In a bout of ingenuity, Colin had hauled in a full length mirror from the main house and propped it up in a nook of the cottage. After ingesting each experiment (and one dose of an actual love potion, just to establish a baseline for comparison) he’d wander over to the mirror and stare into its glittering surface. In this manner, Colin was able to at least test if the “fall in love with the first person you see” aspect of the original formula was waning.

So far the answer has been no. That pesky aspect of the potion has yet to dissipate. Which also means that Colin’s fallen in love with himself nine times over the course of this project.

It’s been a nice exercise in boosting his self-esteem actually. For the first time Colin has truly appreciated how his hair curls and swoops in thick chestnut waves. Found the sharp lines of his nose and cheekbones to be striking instead of severe. And he always rather thought of himself as too big and too tall. But there’s grace in the way he holds himself; power in the heft of his biceps and thighs; dignity in the thick set of his chest and stomach. Even his thin wire-rim reading glasses accentuate his face rather nicely and enhance the deep green of his gaze. Colin can see it now. What Penelope had meant when she told him that he has kind eyes.

Kind.

It’s a word he’s come to appreciate more and more over the last couple of months. He also finds other adjectives to describe himself. Smart. Dedicated. Hard-working. Funny. Loyal. Loving. All these compliments and more spill out of Colin’s mouth every time he tests his latest concoction.

Handsome also pops up several times… usually right about the time he gets so turned on by complimenting himself that Colin has to take out his cock to wank right then and there in front of the mirror.

Embarrassing but true.

Anyway, Colin has at least noticed a slight shift with the last two batches. Experiment number seven had a delayed reaction time. He looked in the mirror and felt nothing for about ten minutes, before the stirrings of love crept up on him once more. And experiment number eight had been significantly altered in intensity. Colin had felt butterflies when he looked at himself in the mirror and could still pick out all the things he loved about himself. But the intensity and obsession he had about them had decreased significantly. Colin could even step away from the mirror for several minutes at a time, without feeling anxiety and terror at being separated from his own image.

Although Colin did still bring himself off in front of the mirror again. At this point, it’s starting to become Pavlovian.

Anyway, he has a good feeling about this batch. Even with the troubling way it was administered. Colin hopes that lucky potion number nine will be the recipe that breaks the mold.

He turns to seek out the full length mirror. Colin is about to take a step towards the nook where it resides when there is a knock on the door.

A knock on his door?

Impossible.

Colin whips his head in the direction of the sound. Stares intently at the oak wood that separates him from the outside world. Perhaps this experiment has messed with his auditory processing?

But then there is another knock, louder this time.

“Colin?”

Bloody hell.

In that moment, Colin realizes that he’s made a terrible, glaring error. When he set up the warding around the cottage, he’d been thinking about keeping the staff safe. Maybe preventing his nosy family from stumbling across his experiments if they popped by for a visit. So the spells and enchantments he used for the warding were simple in design. Rudimentary. They were only meant to repel humans.

And his tiny next door neighbor, Penelope Featherington, is not entirely human.

Colin listens in horror as the latch clicks— he didn’t even lock it! — and watches in agony as the door pushes open. He knows he needs to stop Penelope before she fully enters the cottage. He must! But Colin’s tongue is stuck in his too dry mouth and he can’t get a word out.

Then it’s too late.

“Merlin! Why do you smell so funny, Colin? You almost— ”

The terror melts away in an instant as Pen’s face pokes through the crack in the open door. Euphoria rushes into the breach in thick, insistent waves. Colin doesn’t even register the rest of her sentence. All he can focus on is the cute twitch of her whiskers and the scrunch of her button nose in distaste.

“Pen,” Colin breathes out. He traces over the perfect plumpness of her lips with his eyes. Black around the edges before fading into a light, pleasing shade of pink.

The urgent hum of the potion starts to pulse under his skin. Like a second heartbeat.

“Colin? Are you alright?” Pen asks, stepping fully into the cottage. “You seem a little out of it.”

Colin is quite alright. Fantastic even. Penelope is here. In fact, the moment he sees her — all of her — something inside him snaps happily into place.

Penelope is wearing a dress of emerald green velvet that does wonders for her figure. Colin hungrily rakes his way over her thick arms, tightly wrapped like a present for him. Then he wickedly directs his attention to her chest. The scoop neck is technically conservative, Colin supposes, yet on Pen it’s anything but. She’s practically spilling out the top. Even the parts of her breasts that are covered are delicious. The fabric is pulled taut in every direction against the round, perfect shape of them. Colin is, obviously, panting by the time he’s done inspecting every inch.

As if that’s not enough to kill him, Colin has to face the reality of her wide hips and thick thighs. The velvet enhances both features sinfully. Her waist is an hourglass curve that he wants to sink his teeth into. Her thighs are tree trunks that he wants to wrap his palms and fingers around and climb.

Climb, and climb, and climb until he reaches the pinnacle.

“Oh!” Pen exclaims suddenly. Colin forces himself to drag his eyes away from the tempting splay of peachy skin between the hem of her dress and her knee high boots. He refocuses on his neighbor. His best friend. A Hybrid.

Homosapien Vulpes Vulpes. Or, in layman’s terms, a Human Red Fox.

Pen’s cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wide, seemingly caught somewhere down by his waist.

When he follows the path of her eyeline down it becomes apparent what’s snagged her attention: the large tent in his black trousers. Colin looks back up just in time to catch Pen’s gaze for a moment before those deep, liquid brown eyes dart away in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have— I’ll just go!” Penelope squeaks. She takes one stuttering step backwards, her bushy orange tail flicking nervously from side to side.

Go?

She can’t leave. He needs her. He loves her.

Colin strides forward quickly and grips the top of the door with a firm, determined hand. He can't let her walk out and close it behind her. Not a chance. Colin stares down at her face, now so close to his, and wonders why he never realized she was so… enchanting.

“Pen,” he murmurs again. He reaches out with his other hand and wraps it around her upper arm. Pulls her into the cottage. Pushes the door shut.

“Colin? What’s wrong?” Pen raises a tiny hand and brings it up to delicately block her nose. “And why do you smell like that?”

“Like what?” He inquires as he sweeps his thumb over the soft material of Penelope’s sleeve.

“Turpentine. You reek of it.”

Huh. Colin can’t smell anything except — he leans down and nuzzles his face against her hair where the scent is the strongest. The tip of his nose brushes against the silky smooth fur of her ears.

“Apples,” Colin says dreamily. “And cinnamon. You smell like a warm mug of mulled apple cider.” He drags in another deep lungful.

“Colin, can you look at me?” Of course he can. Colin will do whatever Pen wants. He pulls himself out of the wild mane of her curly orange hair and beams down at her with a wide, dopey smile.

Pen has a little furrow in between her brows as she stares up at him. Colin reaches up and slides his index finger against the grooves, trying to flatten them out.

“None of that now, love,” he softly admonishes. “Only smiles for me, yeah?”

Except that sentiment just makes Penelope frown even harder, to Colin’s extreme dismay.

“Colin, are you working on a potion right now? Did you take something?” Pen grabs onto his cheeks and pulls him down to her level. Colin almost moans at the sensation of her little fingers gripping tightly onto his jaw. Then those amber eyes are bouncing back and forth worriedly over his own. “You did, didn’t you? You look drugged right now and your pupils are nearly blown.”

“Yeah! Test batch number nine! I have a good feeling about this one Pen,” he says excitedly.

“What exactly are you testing, Colin?” Penelope demands impatiently. She’s so cute when she’s angry. Well, she’s cute all of the time really.

“My love potion of course!” Colin reminds her. They’ve talked about this. Pen had even helped him procure some rather rare books through her network of fellow book sellers. Though that was well over ten months ago. Maybe she’s forgotten.

Unlikely though. Mind like a steel trap, this one.

“What?” Penelope screeches, her fox ears flick back almost flush against her curls. She pulls her arm out of his grasp and staggers back several steps. Colin is absolutely gutted at the sudden space between them. “I thought all that research you were doing was purely academic! Theoretical! Not that you actually planned on brewing any of it!”

Colin shakes his head back and forth.

“No, no. I always planned on brewing it. Did I neglect to mention that?” Colin frowns, trying to recall important details from before Penelope stepped inside the cottage. “Although, come to think of it, I probably did omit that on purpose. Plausible deniability and all that.” Colin gives her a little puppy dog pout of contrition. Slowly edges a step closer to her. “Say you forgive me, love,” he implores.

Penelope sputters, her eyes going wide.

“Hells bells! No. No. You can’t be serious!” She starts pacing back and forth in front of him. Colin tip toes a little closer while she’s distracted. “Please tell me I’m not the first person you saw, Colin. Tell me you’re not in love with me right now!”

Colin shrugs helplessly, torn between the crushing need to make her happy and the inability to lie to her.

“What does that mean, Colin?” Penelope cries, mimicking his shoulder shrug. Though she somehow manages to make her motion sarcastic and mocking instead of pitiful. Colin sighs.

“I’m sorry, love,” he offers. Even though the answer to her question is buried in that short declaration, Colin still opens his mouth again to force the actual words out. Penelope, however, cuts him off almost immediately.

“Stop calling me that!” She shouts, throwing her hands up in what he thinks is frustration. Colin takes stock of the frantic swish of her tail and the agitated flick of her ears. Yeah, that’s frustration. Or something like it.

“Oh. Do you… do you not like being called love?” Colin asks morosely. “Because I can call you something else! Whatever you want, Pen!” He insists.

Pen stops pacing and just stares at him.

“That’s not— I don’t—“ and then the rest of Pen’s sentence ends in a string of muttered curses Colin can’t quite hear. But he uses her distraction to erase the remaining distance between them. Then quickly snags one of her hands in between both of his own.

“Would it be that bad for me to be in love with you?” Colin asks. A little too intensely if he’s being honest. He tries to pivot towards lightheartedness. “We are friends, are we not? Surely you can stomach sitting with me for a couple of hours while I whisper sweet nothings to you.”

Colin ends his stump speech with a rather roguish grin. The one he himself found absolutely charming while under the influence of experiments one through eight. Colin even flutters his eyelashes behind his glasses just to up the swoon factor.

Pen’s eyes go wide again at his blatant flirting. Okay, maybe he just replaced one form of intensity for another. Sue him!

Except… she seems kind of into it. He doesn’t know how to explain it, because she still appears rather cross with him, but something behind her eyes flickers. Gentles, maybe? Goes a little bit hazy? Colin just knows that whatever it is has his stomach clenching in anticipation. He wonders idly if she’s ever thought of them together before today. He wishes he had.

“Colin,” she whispers softly. “That’s a bad idea. You’re drugged. You’re not in your right mind. I can’t stay here.” Pen’s voice seems a little pained as she says it.

“I don’t see why not,” Colin argues back. “What’s the harm, Pen? It’ll be just like any other day we spend together. Except every once in a while I’ll tell you how gorgeous you look and how smart you are and how your bottom lip is… mesmerizing…” Colin trails off as he studies it. He even reaches up with one hand to stroke the place where her skin turns to lip. “And so soft,” Colin adds in awe.

“Merlin! Can you even hear yourself? This is why,” Penelope insists as she grabs his hand away from her lip and shakes it in front of their faces as evidence. Then Pen drags it down and deposits it by their sides. “Your hormones are flying the broomstick right now.” Colin doesn’t miss the little flick of her eyes back down towards his crotch.

Ah. Right. His cock. The thing that’s trying to desperately escape the tight confines of his trousers to get to her.

“We don’t need to have sex, Pen,” Colin assures her. “Not unless you want to.”

“Unless I want to? That’s not— that’s not the point!” He’s never heard Pen like this before. Screechy. Almost hysterical.

“What is your point, exactly?” Colin prods her. Literally, too. He raises his hand again and presses the tip of a single finger against the soft swell of her bottom lip. Just so he has the pleasure of watching it fold sweetly around him.

“Colin! Focus!”

“I am focused. I think we should kiss,” Colin asserts as he pulls his finger away and avidly watches as her lip plumps back up so prettily. He barely even notices that his finger comes away sticky with some of her lipgloss.

“See! This is what I’m talking about. You just said we didn’t have to do anything and now you’re saying we should— stop that!” Pen swats his hand away as he tries to touch her lips again.

“I said we didn’t have to have sex. I didn’t comment one way or the other about kissing,” Colin states. “I wouldn’t have. Because I really, firmly believe we should kiss. I can’t stop thinking about how your lips will feel against mine.”

Penelope gasps. Well and truly gasps like he’s shocked her. Meanwhile that sound bangs around between his ears like a drum. Colin wouldn’t mind hearing more of those. Gasps…sighs…moans…

“Just one kiss,” Colin murmurs, pressing his suit. He infuses the request with all the heat and longing building up in his chest.

“Colin…” she groans. Oh! He forgot about groans. Add it to the list!

“Please Pen,” he pleads. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Which is only a lie if he’s referring to her. Colin already knows kissing her will mean everything to him. “I just… I think I’d feel better if I could just… get some of this out of my system.”

Penelope lets out a deep, bone weary sigh. He’s getting the impression that Pen thinks dealing with Colin right now is akin to an epic trial the gods have dumped into her lap as some sort of cruel joke.

“Colin, I know that sounds like a good idea right now. But what happens when you wake up in the morning and regret it?”

He scoffs.

“Regret it? You think I’d regret kissing you? Come off it, Pen. Potion or no potion, I’m not going to regret kissing a beautiful woman.” Penelope blushes at that. The rosy flush kisses her cheeks and works its way down her neck. Colin studies the movement intently, first with his eyes and then with the back of his hand. He runs his fingers gently down the slope of her cheek. “Would you?” Colin lobs back at her.

“Would I what?” Penelope says in a dazed whisper.

“Regret it. If we kissed.” Colin feels a little sick to his stomach at the thought of it. As much as he’s dying to kiss her, he won’t do it if there’s even the smallest chance that she’ll wake up in the morning racked with shame and embarrassment. He only wants her lips if they’re willing and eager underneath his own.

Pen’s eyes track slowly across his face. Colin doesn’t know what she is looking for, exactly, but she must find it. Because the next thing Colin knows, Penelope is offering him a small shake of her head. No, she wouldn’t regret it. The sick feeling in his stomach immediately evaporates. It’s replaced with buzzing, fizzing excitement like Colin has just swallowed a large sip of champagne. He can’t stop the ear splitting grin that makes its way across his face. Though in all honesty, Colin doesn’t even try.

“Well there you go,” Colin says heatedly. “We should definitely kiss.” The back of his fingers and hand are still resting on Pen’s cheek. Colin slowly flips them around so he can fit his palm around the hinge of her jaw. He tips Pen’s face a little further up. Then tilts her a smidge to the left. The fact Penelope lets herself be maneuvered into place speaks volumes. As does the tremble of Pen’s lips.

“Just one?” Pen clarifies. Colin nods eagerly. Starts leaning forward to suck that dastardly distracting bottom lip into his mouth. His momentum is halted though by her hand on his chest, exerting just enough pressure to hold him off. “I need to hear you say the words, Colin.” He pulls back a fraction in surprise. She’s really going to hold him to that?

Alas, the hard set of Pen’s determined expression tells him she is very serious about this request. Seven hells. This demand is the bane of his existence! But also the key to unlocking all his desires...

“Only one kiss to your delectable mouth Pen, I promise,” Colin swears, with only a little bit of petulance. He gives her another roguish grin. “Unless you ask me for more.” Penelope rolls her eyes again but Colin feels the hand between them slip away.

He slides his glasses off the bridge of his nose and sets them back to rest in the messy tangle of his hair on top of his head. Then he leans forward once more until he’s a hairsbreath away.

“May I?” He watches her chin nod slowly. Colin is giddy and eager to get to the kissing part of the program but he can’t help but hold himself back for a moment. Pen has set him up so beautifully... “I need to hear you say the words, Pen,” Colin teases, letting his words fan across the scant space between their mouths.

“Yes,” Penelope whispers.

As soon as Penelope gives him permission, Colin closes the distance left between their lips.

It starts off gentle. He simply presses his lips forward so that he can finally — finally! — rest them against her own. Colin ends up slotting his lips up around her top lip instead of the bottom. But that’s fine, more than fine, because that means that Pen’s plush bottom lip is bracketing his own. He feels cradled by her. Warm. Safe. Loved.

Now it’s Colin whose lips are trembling.

Because while he is head over heels for Pen, he’s under no delusions. She doesn’t love him back. This is a pity kiss. An “I’m sorry you’re a mad scientist who stupidly drugged himself” kiss. There isn’t a scenario where Pen would want this for real. They’re just friends.

A phrase that once brought him so much joy is now sticking to the bottom of his shoe like an annoying, ratty piece of used gum.

But as much as he intellectually knows all that, it’s hard to square that information with reality.

They are kissing. That’s not an illusion. Pen’s lips are real too. They’re lovely and wide. And when Colin increases the pressure? When he starts moving his lips to caress hers fully? Merlin. Colin moans as she starts to reciprocate, delicately mirroring his movements.

She tastes of caramel. A little artificial but unmistakably sweet and decadent. Sticky. Colin never in a million years would have expected this is what she tastes like. He wonders if it’s a preference — does she like the taste of caramel more than he’s ever suspected? — or if she just enjoys fun flavors. Maybe Pen has a whole army of sweet lipglosses stacked on her vanity and today was simply caramel’s lucky day.

It is certainly Colin’s lucky day. He opens his mouth a little more so he can suck the flavor off completely. His tongue flicks out to brush between his open mouth and drags over her top lip to capture more of that mouthwatering taste.

Penelope whimpers. He feels her whole body shiver under his.

Oh fuck. Colin nearly pulls his lips off of hers to demand if she liked that. The words are already thick in his mouth, pooling right alongside his saliva. But then he remembers he only gets one kiss. He can’t let go. Because then this will be over. His one opportunity to kiss her will be gone. Squandered. Colin can’t waste this.

So just before they are nearly separated, Colin surges forward. He latches back onto her lips fully. Colin eagerly molds and plays with her, taking needy inhales through his nose so that he can continue snogging the daylights out of his perfect Pen.

Then he shifts his mouth so that pesky bottom lip of hers slips neatly between his own. Colin has no shame. None at all. His tongue is already lapping greedily along the silky smooth expanse of her and he eventually sinks his teeth into either side of her lip so he can feverishly suck anything his tongue has missed. Merlin. Colin is certain he will never taste caramel again without thinking of Penelope.

And it turns out to be a very good thing Colin didn’t stop his ministrations to ask Pen if she’s enjoying herself. Because it’s increasingly clear that the answer is yes. She won’t stop squirming beneath his mouth and his hand. It’s another reason Colin uses his teeth. He has to hold her still. Colin is worried her plush lips will get accidentally ripped away from him at any moment. Pen seems to share similar concerns. Her little hands find purchase on his hips, her claws digging into his sides lightly to pull him closer.

If being closer to him is what she is looking for, Colin is more than happy to help. He wraps a thick arm around Pen’s waist and pulls her flush against his body.

Bloody hell.

They both moan against each other's mouths as Colin’s hard cock presses into the warmth of her belly. He’d forgotten he was hard.

Or that this is supposed to be a simple kiss.

His hands nip down to Penelope’s arse rather quickly. Colin spreads his hands wide so he can cup and knead her there. So full and lovely and large. He tightens his hold on her arse and uses his grip to surge her forward and up while he simultaneously grinds his cock down against her stomach. Pleasure floods his system and Colin whimpers against her mouth.

It’s about then that he thinks it’s rather a shame her mouth is still closed. So Colin pries it open with his tongue and sweeps inside. Gods. Penelope’s tongue meets his immediately. Their kiss turns even sloppier and needier.

Colin vaguely realizes that while Pen might be the actual Hybrid in the room, the only person here acting like an animal is him. He’s pawing at her arse, sucking on her tongue, and rutting against her belly. Not to mention grunting happily all the while.

The intensity of his efforts eventually causes them to stumble backwards until Pen’s back is pressed up against the wall of the cottage. Something about having Pen pinned makes him a little more cognizant about just how feral he’s gone. He gives her arse one last affectionate squeeze and then his hands are gliding over her hips, along her stomach, and against the sides of her breasts. Colin finally brings them up to cradle her jaw.

From there, Colin slows them down. He takes longer sips of her, each one measured but sensual. It takes a bit of effort but he also shifts his hips back. His cock throbs painfully at the loss. But Colin wants to savor this. Savor her. He wants to make sure he’s sinking love and devotion into every square inch of her mouth.

All that sweetness must get too cloying for Penelope though. After a while her hands return to his chest and press firmly. Colin reluctantly allows himself to be pushed back until their lips separate with a slick pop.

“Wow,” Colin pants, fluttering open his eyes. He rubs shaking fingertips over his swollen lips. They come away sticky with saliva and lipgloss. “Incredible.” Penelope doesn’t acknowledge his praise. She looks dazed and unfocused. Out of it. Pen is panting too, even harder than he is, and it causes her breasts to heave up towards her chin with each breath. Fuck.

He is an idiot. Colin should have never promised her only one kiss. He drags his gaze up from her breasts as he remembers how perfect her lips are. How they felt sliding against his own. Merlin. Penelope’s whole chin is red. Raw. Colin locks in on the bruised, puffy masterpiece he’s created and feels the buzzing under his skin kick up a notch. All he wants is to nestle back in and set up camp.

How can he convince Penelope to change her mind?

Colin needs to be bold. He needs to show her how much he loves her. Demonstrate how she deserves to be worshipped. How can he properly do that under these conditions? One kiss cannot do her justice—

Oh!

Colin feels his mouth twisting up into a wicked smile. Well there’s an idea. A brilliant one, if he does say so himself. Good job, Colin!

Penelope is still just standing there, lovely and debauched. Colin takes great pride in having gotten her so disoriented just from his kiss. He wonders if this means his next gamble will be well received or if it’ll wake her up enough to finally push him away for good.

Well, he won’t know until he tries, Colin supposes.

He leans back into Pen’s space and lays a devoted kiss to her cheek. Then moves down towards her neck and presses another firm, loving kiss into her heated skin.

“What are you doing?” Pen questions him. She still sounds a bit breathless. Good. Colin plans to keep her that way, if she’ll let him. “We agreed on one kiss.”

“We did,” he concedes as he pushes back the emerald fabric covering one shoulder from him. There is just so much of her there, so much fat and skin and muscle. Colin doesn’t manage a kiss so much as he sinks a grateful bite into all that delicious excess. Then he tries to suck as much of it as he can into his mouth for several moments, swiping gratefully over her skin with his tongue. When he’s done, Colin tugs her dress back into place.

No bra strap though. Interesting.

Pen doesn’t stop him as he moves to her other shoulder. He repeats his actions down to the letter— sleeve pulled back, lushness exposed, indent of his teeth gifted, and tongue applied with hungry strokes. It’s about then he remembers he was halfway through explaining his master plan to Pen.

“But I promised only one kiss to your mouth. We never discussed where else I could apply a kiss.” Colin’s lips brush over her velvet covered bicep. He desperately wishes it was her skin. “So I took the liberty of interpreting that as I get one kiss per body part.” Now he presses his lips against her forearm. “You wouldn’t want the rest of you to get jealous of your lips, would you darling?” Colin kisses the back of her hand and cuts a sly glance up at her face. Penelope gives him an annoyed eye roll.

“Were you ever punished as a child?” She huffs.

Colin shakes his head before indulgently moving on to her fingers. He purses his lips and gives each fingertip a tiny, but lingering kitten kiss.

“Would you like me to stop?” Colin husks out as he moves to her other hand and repeats the process. Only this time, when he gets to the second to last finger, his peck turns a little raunchy. Colin sucks the tip into his mouth and then keeps going. He slides down until her pointer finger is resting fully on his tongue, which he proceeds to swirl around the digit with purpose.

“We shouldn’t…” Penelope says hesitantly. He pops off her finger and darts a quick kiss to her thumb. Then proceeds to shove the sleeve of her dress up to her elbow.

“Well, while you’re thinking about it, I’ll just be here,” Colin offers. He dips his mouth down to the middle of her forearm and begins making out with the pretty, soft skin he’s unveiled. Pen immediately starts wriggling under his attention. Finally!

“Colin, you’re under the influence! We shouldn’t— I can’t let you— hells bells.” Colin will have to remember later that she’s sensitive here. Apparently the forearm is an erogenous zone for Pen. Who knew? He sucks into her skin harder and listens intently as she moans in response.

Merlin, he’s so hard.

“Pen,” he rasps, breaking away from her arm. “It doesn’t matter. I just want to make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good.” Colin nips his way up from the hickey starting to bloom on her arm. Up over warm skin, up over crushed velvet, and up until he’s almost at her shoulder. And he won’t cheat, won’t kiss her there twice until she asks him to, so he gives a kiss to her bicep right before it curves into her shoulder. Colin tastes the fabric between his lips. He breathes in the clean scent of her detergent layered over the warm apple spice scent of her body and hair. There is also the faint whiff of sage that Pen uses to smudge her house (and his on occasion) to keep out the ghosts. It's such an odd combination but Colin breathes it in deeply. Both during the kiss and after. Just keeps his nose pressed against the fabric of her dress and inhales.

That’s the scent of home. Of Pen. His Pen.

Colin moved in next door five years ago. His potion’s apprenticeship was complete, he’d landed a coveted job at Bloomsbury’s finest apothecary, and his romantic life was in shambles.

He was already going through so many life changes — some good, some bad, some bittersweet — that Colin figured he might as well add a new place to live into the mix. He had wanted to move out of the flat he formerly shared with Marina anyway. All the sage in the world wouldn’t have cleansed that place of its bad aura after their breakup. So he asked his brother Anthony about any spare properties in the extensive Bridgerton family portfolio.

God bless Anthony for recommending this particular house. It was newly renovated but not yet furnished or decorated. Perfect, Anthony said, for Colin to make it his own. The house was located on a dead end lane on the outskirts of Bloomsbury. Close enough to town that Colin could ride his bicycle and be to work within fifteen minutes, but far enough away that Colin could fold himself into the quiet and seclusion of the woods that abutted the property on three sides.

There was only one other house on the lane, directly across the way. Owned, Anthony told him at the time, by a family of Hybrids. All reports said that they were quiet and kept to themselves.

Colin found that statement to be patently false.

The Featheringtons are loud. The biggest offenders are the eldest daughters, Prudence and Phillipa. They still live in the family home alongside their husbands and, at any given time of day, Colin can hear one or both of them screeching noisily. Often in anger or complaint, sometimes in joy. If he is particularly unlucky, Colin will overhear them screaming during moments of… er… a more intimate nature.

Meanwhile Portia, the matriarch, can often be heard cursing while out in the yard. Colin doesn’t get the sense she particularly enjoys gardening. Yet every morning he sees Portia with her trowel and sheers poking around the grounds as her colorful swears echo across the street.

The Featheringtons don’t keep to themselves either. Colin is endlessly fobbing off some invite to join them for tea or dinner or a nightcap. The husbands are always wandering over to the main house and asking to borrow tools that Colin is certain neither knows how to use. Portia never fails to waylay Colin as he heads off to work, trying to engage him around some bit of gossip or news. Phillipa is constantly trying to set him up with an endless parade of her single friends while Prudence keeps insinuating that she and her husband would happily welcome Colin as their third.

Colin thinks that whoever originally gave Anthony that report must have been talking about Penelope. Because when he first met her five years ago, she was quiet. The only Featherington that seemed content to keep to herself.

Colin hadn’t even realized there was a third Featherington sister for nearly a month after he moved in. Not until her hat flew off and blinded his view while he was riding home from work. Colin had careened off the lane, sideswiped a birch tree, and crash landed in a heap at its base. When he finally rolled over and blinked up at the sky there was Penelope. She was backlit by the glow of the setting sun that created a bright halo around her vibrant orange hair. Colin’s first thought was he had died.

Died and that this sweet little angel had come to collect him.

Colin inhales against her sleeve one final time. Then he pulls himself away from her arm so he can look Pen over. There isn’t any sort of sunshiny halo around her today. But she still looks like an angel. A rumpled angel, undone and frazzled by Colin’s kisses, but an angel all the same.

Happiness pours out of him. It tugs the corners of his mouth up higher and higher. Merlin, she always makes him smile. And in return, he’s always eager to tease one out of her.

Though apparently smiles aren’t the only things he can wheedle from Pen...

Colin lets his gaze drift down to her breasts for a moment. Then flicks his glance back up to regard her from under his eyelashes. Colin lets his smile turn a little bit wicked.

Pen’s eyes widen as she clocks his cocksure attitude. Reads his intent seconds before he moves.

“Colin! Don’t you dar—“ But it’s too late. Colin is already cupping both hands around one of her breasts and lifting it up towards his descending mouth. He latches his kiss right onto the tip of her hard nipple, made soft by the velvet fabric.

Fuck, he knew it. She’s not wearing a bra underneath. Colin quickly soaks the single layer of fabric as he kisses her. Or, well, sucking on her tit might be more accurate. Either way Colin widens his mouth to reach as much of her as possible. He fits his tongue against Pen’s nipple and begins to lap against it with broad strokes.

“Hells bells!” Penelope curses and arches her back. A motion which delightfully shoves her breast further into his face and hands. Colin instinctively squeezes in response, his fingers biting into her beauty. Needless to say, Colin keeps his tongue right where it is. He laps at her hungrily and gorges on her moans. All the while Penelope chants his name like she’s weaving a spell.

Pen slides her hands up from his shoulders and sinks them into his hair. Colin shivers as her tiny claws rake gently across his scalp. Then yelps as Pen wraps her hands around tufts of his hair and yanks. Colin is unceremoniously parted from her breast in an instant. The quick jerk causes his glasses to go flying backwards off his head. Colin distantly hears them clatter as they land somewhere behind him.

“I wasn’t done—“ Colin starts. But his peevish complaint is cut short as Pen presses his face into her other breast with a needy whine.

Oh. Well then.

Colin can do as he’s told. Happy to. He slides his mouth a little until her nipple is slotting between his lips. Then Colin is kissing her nub with the same amount of fervor he’d bestowed on its twin. His hands migrate over too. Colin moans into her breast as, once again, her decadence spills out between his fingers. Pen’s hands, meanwhile, stay tethered in his hair. A lifeline Colin didn’t know he needed until her claws and fingers were clasping him tight.

When he’s done ravishing her breast, Colin sinks to his knees. He frames her belly with his hands for a moment before nuzzling into her. Colin drags his face back and forth against the luxurious give of her stomach. His five o’clock shadow scrapes audibly over the soft velvet.

Eventually Colin comes back to himself enough to bestow his next kiss. He molds his lips against her sweet belly. Sips and pulls with slow intent. His hands reach further around so he can reacquaint himself with her arse. Just for a moment. Every part of Pen is so lush and full. It’s maddening.

Colin grips the fabric beneath her tail, one hand on either side, and yanks. The metal snaps pop open. Her dress hem splits up the middle. Impediment removed, Colin is now able to shove the dress up past her tail. He pulls it up until the fabric bunches uncomfortably in the front, caught under his chin where he’s still busy worshipping Pen’s stomach.

Colin hitches his teeth into his mouthful for a moment in woeful goodbye. Then he draws back to study the newly revealed apex of Pen’s legs. Colin barely clocks that her panties are a soft, butter yellow because the only color he can see is wet.

“Fuck me,” Colin grits out, his hands clenching hard at her waist where he still has her dress rucked up. He did that. Colin has worked Pen into such a frenzy that the gusset of her underwear is completely soaked through. Colin leans in closer until his nose is practically touching the wet fabric. “I’m going to kiss you here,” he declares in a low rumble.

Colin says it like a statement but he tilts his eyes up towards Pen’s face to gauge her reaction. Waits until she gives him a very clear nod before he dives in.

Before today Colin has spent exactly zero amount of time thinking about Penelope’s cunt. He’s never had a dirty dream or a wank session about Pen. He’s never accidentally popped a boner when they’ve hung out. He’s never spent his spare time considering the shape, color, or smell of her. Not once in the past five years.

On the one hand, that’s a shame. What a waste! Colin has been fixating on his workshop and his experiments all this time when he should have been obsessing about how to get a taste of Pen. Although he supposes that, in the end, he solved that riddle rather easily. All Colin had to do was drug himself into a lovesick stupor and paw endlessly at her until she relented.

But on the other hand, Colin is glad he’s never given it any serious thought. It allows the moment he puts his mouth on Penelope’s sopping wet underwear to be a true revelation. He moans loudly as the first burst of earthy flavor reaches his tastebuds. Colin drags his tongue up against the fabric insistently, trying to get more of it. Trying to feel every delectable crevice of her through the fabric. Penelope moans so prettily when his tongue drifts higher and nudges against her clit. He shifts his mouth so he’s kissing her directly over that magical spot, sucking that little piece of heaven with gusto.

The underwear has to go. Colin needs it gone. He enjoys teasing her, likes edging her through the cotton fabric of her panties. But the novelty has quickly worn off. Now all he wants is to feel her slippery skin directly against his own.

One kiss per body part though…

Colin thinks at this point she’ll allow him some leeway but he also can’t risk it. He can’t separate his mouth from her. So Colin hooks his thumbs into each side of the waistband and slowly peels her underwear down until it’s knocking against where he’s glued to her clit. Then he yanks firmly. Like a magician, he pulls the tablecloth out quickly hoping not to disturb any of the plates and cutlery from their places. He’s rather successful because now Pen’s underwear is at her ankles and his mouth is pressed flush against warm, wet flesh.

Fuck.

Colin goes absolutely feral. His palm is on her thigh in an instant and he’s hauling it over his shoulder in the next. The heel of her boot knocks against his back as her leg settles into place. Colin nuzzles further into her and rejoices as his nose drags against soft fur. Fur. With her underwear on he hadn’t been able to tell. But now that she’s bare, Colin can properly feel that Pen’s cunt is surrounded by thick, downy fur.

Merlin, he wants to lick it. Except her little crystal is in his mouth right now and Colin isn’t going to let that go for the world. He sucks on her greedily, his tongue instead applying deft little flicks and circles to Pen’s clit to see what’ll get her going. Colin delights in every heavy sigh and whimper that she gifts him with as he experiments.

But fur… on her cunt.

Colin can’t quite let that go.

So he glides his hand up from her thigh and moves it to just above where he’s kissing her mound. His fingers sink into the thicket of her fur. Merlin, she’s so soft. And Penelope lets out this gorgeous little chirp of surprise when Colin begins to stroke her. He sweeps his broad hand over and over her fine orange hairs.

Pen begins to arch her hips up into his face with urgency. She grips his hair tighter and tries to tug him closer to her pussy. Even her boot heel starts digging into his shoulder blade, as she attempts to corral him forward.

His little vixen!

Colin breathes deeply through his nose and gets to work. He doesn’t stop petting her, doesn’t stop tonguing and sucking on her spell box. If anything, he ups the intensity. Colin rubs above her mound harder and even tugs on the short hairs at random intervals. He wedges his other hand under his chin and lets his fingertips map the satin petals of her cunt. Penelope moans and whimpers in response to his amorous attention.

Colin feels something flick at his ear and then again.

Her tail. She’s pressing her tail up against the side of his face. It swishes up and down in a matching rhythm to every flick of his tongue. A new wave of heat and lust crests over Colin.

Pen is so fucking sexy like this. Teasing him with her tail. Demanding his attention with her hands and hips. Soaking his fingers as they continue to glide around her entrance. Colin is certain: Pen needs him.

He doesn’t know if she wants him, but she does need him.

Colin means to go slow. He ought to be gentle. Except he’s a little pussy drunk at the moment. Too eager. Besides, the fingers he’s been using to play with her are already soaked. It’s easy enough to just notch both of them at her weeping entrance. Too easy to just… push them steadily, firmly inside.

Colin is addicted from the very first moment his fingers sink into her. Seven fucking hells. Why is she so goddamn soft everywhere? Like, jail. Pen needs to be locked up immediately. This whole time she’s been walking around with all that soft skin, those soft curls and fur, her sweet soft lips, and this fucking soft, wet pussy?

She’s a menace. A stone cold criminal.

Pen lets out a breathily “ah, ah” noise as Colin spreads his fingers wide. He starts petting her on the inside to feel more of that softness. Delights in watching how she squirms with pleasure as a result.

Oh, who is he kidding? He wouldn’t be able to survive without her. It’s not even up for debate. Colin would have to stage a jailbreak or commit crimes of his own just so he could get thrown in beside her.

Colin drags his fingers out and then stuffs them back in. Scissors her again. Pets her again. Then repeats the whole process with single-minded precision and in a seemingly endless loop. All the while keeping his mouth firmly sucking and lapping and kissing her magnificently heated clit.

Which also happens to be soft and puffy under his lips, by the way.

After several more passes (or maybe a thousand, who could say?) Colin hitches a third finger next to the others. This time he does manage to go slow as he presses into her. It’s a tighter fit now, obviously, and Colin doesn’t want to hurt Pen. He wants his criminally intoxicating angel to feel good. So he lets her adjust after he’s got those three fingers tucked all the way inside. Allows her to squeeze and pulse around his fingers as she gets used to the thickness. It’s only after he’s sure she’s ready, when Pen returns to wiggling and tipping her hips back into him, that he moves.

Colin very slowly, very deliberately, curls his fingers inside her.

“Colin! Oh, right there! Oh please, Colin—“

Yes. Yes. Colin curls his fingers again in that “come hither motion.” Pen starts giving him those little tiny chirps as Colin resumes fucking her hard with his fingers. As he keeps driving and tapping into that spot.

Pen’s thigh is what gives her away first. Colin feels it start to shake up against his shoulder. Then her hands tighten in his hair trying to press him even closer to her cunt. Impossible. Colin is practically buried under her skin with how close he is to every wet, hot bit of Pen.

Then her cunt seizes around his fingers and she comes, explosively and noisily. Colin feels himself floating as he guides her through it. Lets her hold onto his fingers for a moment as that first wave hits her and then continues to pound her through the rest of it.

When Pen finishes, Colin pulls off her cunt with a gasp. He sucks air back into his lungs as quickly as he can. Maybe that explains the floating feeling. He’s not sure he had been breathing towards the end there.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s still face to face with her glittering pussy. Wet and well fucked with his fingers still tucked inside. Seven fucking devils. Colin’s raging erection throbs painfully as he continues to stare at her crotch. It’s so fucking pretty.

Colin wipes his cheeks and mouth off on Pen’s thigh. Then he pulls her off his shoulder and sets her foot back on the ground. He also reluctantly slides his fingers out of her cunt. As a treat though, Colin doesn’t wipe those off. He pops them into his mouth as he clammers to his feet.

Colin stares down at Pen as he sucks her cum off his fingers. She likewise gazes up at him. But his girl isn’t burning like he is. Instead Pen is blissed out and dazed again. She even looks a bit starry-eyed as she focuses on the round ‘O’ of his mouth. Colin lets out a little mmmhmm of pleasure around his fingers to let her know how much he enjoys her taste.

At that, Penelope lets out one of those horny chirps Colin has come to love. Then she squirms. It’s not at all subtle the way her thighs clench and then rub against one another. Colin throbs again in his trousers. He releases his fingers and wipes the saliva off onto his black t-shirt. Right over his heart where the words “Bloomsbury Apothecary, Brewing A Whole New You Since 1692!” are emblazoned across the fabric.

He absently trails his fingers down his chest and stomach as he continues studying her thighs and hips.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Colin states. He doesn’t know where that comes from. Only that it’s the truth. Colin is going to get his cock into her if it’s the last thing he does.

Colin’s hands slip around the back of her thighs and he hefts her up into his embrace. Penelope rather wonderfully gets with the program and wraps her short legs around his waist. Her cunt presses up temptingly against his stomach, soaking the fabric of his shirt immediately.

Yeah, he needs to get inside her ASAP.

Colin stumbles them over to the kitchen table and deposits Pen onto the wooden surface. There is a bed in the cottage, for days when he needs to babysit one of his potions. It’s tucked up against a wall so that it takes up the least amount of space. But Colin can’t even fathom taking the few extra steps needed to make it over to the bed.

The table suits his needs just fine.

Colin unwraps her legs from his hips. One hand grips the heel of Pen’s boot and the other drags down the zipper. This reveals a high black stocking with a little tiny bow at the top that Colin is immediately enamored by. It’s the same hunter green as her dress, matching even though Pen hadn’t expected anyone to see. He flicks the adorable bow with a finger then traces the hem where it bites into the top of her calf. Seriously debates whether he should have Pen keep these on while they fuck.

No. Colin decides that, as sexy as her stockings are, he needs Pen bare when he takes her. So he drops the boot to the floor and proceeds to strip the stocking down over her plump calf, dainty ankle, and demure little toes.

Naked was the right call. Colin lifts her foot and drops a kiss on top of it. He works his way back up her leg, dotting one precious kiss to each place he’d unveiled. By the time he gets to her thigh, Pen’s leg is hitched up at a weird angle and Colin is bent nearly double. But it’s worth it just to get his lips on her. And they don’t have to maintain the position for long. Colin gently returns Pen’s leg so it dangles off the table and turns his attention to her other foot.

He unzips this boot too and slides it off. It falls from his fingertips with a noisy clatter. But Colin doesn’t care. He leans forward and gets his mouth over that cute as fuck bow and under the hem of her stocking. Then he proceeds to peel it down with his teeth.

“Colin!” Penelope squeaks, her amber eyes wide and astonished. When he reaches her ankle he does have to get his hands involved. Struggling to tug the stocking down further than that isn’t exactly the seduction he’s going for. As soon as he frees her toes from the confines of the fabric, Colin deploys his lips for more kisses. This time he gives each of her toes attention, sucking and nibbling as he goes. Then provides her foot, calf, and thigh their due in short order.

But the more he kisses her, feeling her hot skin under his hands and mouth, the more desperate Colin becomes. Why, exactly, is he dragging this out? All seven devils and the grim reaper too, he needs her.

Colin drops her leg and goes scrambling for his shirt. He grabs at the neck and pulls it up over his head in a single fluid motion. It too gets dropped unceremoniously to the floor alongside Pen’s boots and stockings. Then his hands are on his belt buckle, flicking it open quickly, before undoing the button and zip on his trousers.

Colin shoves those and his boxers down to his knees. His cock lewdly springs free, slapping against his stomach and smearing pre-cum in its wake.

“Oh!” Penelope exclaims. She raises a hand up against her mouth, as if to stop that one word from escaping. But it falls rather short. Both in timing and location. Her hand lands on her chin instead and her fingers graze just underneath her lips. She can’t take those vixen eyes, the perfect blend of innocence and hunger, off his cock.

Colin puffs out his chest a little bit with pride at her reaction. Continues to show off, just a bit, as he wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a heavy-handed tug.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” Colin repeats eagerly.

“Yeah. Yes, please,” Pen responds dully, still staring at his weeping cock where it pokes out of his fist. He crowds closer in between her spread thighs. Grabs her arms and lifts them above her head. Squeezes them for a moment to convey his desire for her to keep them raised. Then he shifts his focus to the hem of her dress where it sits high on her waist. He peels it swiftly up and off her body.

Then flings the garment mindlessly behind his back as he takes in the view.

“Fuck, Pen. Holy shit,” he groans. Colin thought he knew. He thought he understood how incredible her tits are. It’s not like Colin doesn’t already know what it feels like to hold them in his hands or have her nipples pebble underneath his tongue. Yet now that she’s naked, Colin realizes he didn’t have a fucking clue.

Her breasts are spectacular. Like fuck. Colin can fully appreciate now just how hard and large her nipples are. He drools over the dusty pink color of them. The same hue as her areolas, stretching wide across each tit. She’s also got little silvery lines arching across the sides. Stretch marks? Colin feels a bit stupid because it never occurred to him until this moment that women could have stretch marks on their breasts. Or that they would look so… intriguing. It’s like the grooves are begging Colin to dip the tip of his tongue inside and follow along.

He tests out that theory. Not with his tongue. At least, not yet. He doesn’t know if he’s still beholden to the one kiss rule. So his mouth can’t get too close. Instead Colin digs his fingernail along one fault line and traces it from the edge of her breast until it fades somewhere closer to the middle.

Pen shivers.

Then, because he’s already there, Colin drags his fingertip around her areola. He spirales around and around until he’s circling the base of her nipple.

Colin brings his thumb up and presses the hard nub in between his two fingers. Plucks it rather harshly by mistake in his enthusiasm. But Pen moans so loudly in response that Colin does it again. Just tugs on her with his big fingertips while his eyes dart between her nipple and her face with excitement. She moans again.

“You like that?” Colin’s voice is gravel. It’s cemetery dirt. It’s buried six feet under.

“Yes!” Penelope whimpers. Colin rushes to get two more fingers wrapped around her other nipple. He watches in fascination as she turns from dusty pink to a lively red under his harsh attention.

Colin shouldn’t have taken off her dress. He realizes now that it was a mistake. Two minutes ago he was imminently going to notch his cock into her dripping pussy. Now he can barely focus on anything that’s not Pen’s breasts. They’re too distracting. Too perfect. Too biteable…

Pen squeezes his cock.

Colin jerks. His cock in her hand and his head up from where he’s been locked in on her breasts. Pen is no longer the dazed damsel he’d picked up and deposited on the table. Her eyes are steely and determined. Fingers tight around his shaft, straining (and failing, he might add) to wrap all the way around.

Pen doesn’t break eye contact with Colin as she proceeds to give his dick the most excruciatingly slow pump known throughout the seven realms.

He likes that. A lot. Despite the exquisite torture of it, Colin finds cheeky Pen incredibly hot. And her telling him with her eyes and her hands to pick up the pace? Scorching.

Colin pinches her nipples harder in retaliation. But he does get with the program. He moves his grip to Pen’s knees and yanks her forward until her arse is balancing on the edge of the table. The only thing separating his cock from her cunt now is her hand still gripping onto the base of him tightly. Colin rests his head on top of hers, rubbing his nose through her soft orange curls before nudging it up against where her hair turns to fur at the base of one pointed ear.

“Pen, darling,” he coos. Colin even gives her ear a little kiss for good measure. “Be a good girl and put me inside, won’t you?”

Pen’s breath hitches at this request.

Shocked and pleased in equal measure, Colin thinks. So he’s a little confused when her tiny hand lands on his chest and starts pressing. It’s the third time she’s done it this morning, so he understands that she wants him to back up and give her some space. But… he thought she wanted this? Even as his mind whirls, however, Colin takes an obligatory half step out of the cradle of her thighs. She may not love him but at the very least he thought —

Pen’s hand slides up his cock so she’s gripping the head. Colin sucks in a startled breath as pleasure skitters up his spine. Oh. It’s only then he realizes her intent. She needed more room. Pen couldn’t notch him inside like that. Not at that angle, not with the tip of his cock trapped up against her stomach. Pen drags her thumb over the slit, catching a bead of pre-cum as it leaks out of him.

Colin nearly bites through his lip as she swirls that ejaculate around the head of his cock, intent on getting him well lubricated. The practicality of the maneuver only serves to further arouse Colin. She hums in approval as even more pre-cum leaks out of him. Pen starts jerking all that wetness down his shaft with brutal efficiency and Colin promptly loses the battle with his lip. The copper tang of blood bursts into his mouth as his teeth nip through the delicate skin.

Colin is worrying over the wound with his tongue when Pen finally— finally — starts dragging his cock towards her silky smooth cunt. They both groan as Pen bumps him up against her slit. Yet the little devil decides to tease them both, dragging the fat head of him up and down her opening.

“Penelope,” Colin growls. “You’re not being a very good girl.”

Her breath hitches again and her eyes flutter as she darts her eyes up from where she’s rubbing herself with his cock.

“I’m not?” She asks innocently. Colin isn’t fooled. He catches the little twitch of her mouth at the corners and the impish little sparkle in her eyes. Bloody hell. Colin hadn’t known that their playful banter as friends would translate so… sensually in the bedroom.

Or on the tabletop, as it were.

Colin shakes his head ruefully and opens his mouth to deliver a snarky rejoinder of his own. But Pen chooses that moment to start stuffing him into her cunt. So instead all that comes out is a high pitched whine of surprise as his tip gets fed into wet, blissful heat.

“H-how about n-now?” Pen pants.

Fuuuuuuuck.

She’s barely got him notched inside her entrance and already Colin is losing it. Pen is like… fluttering around his cock as she adjusts to the width of him. He doesn’t even think she’s doing it on purpose. Her pussy seems to be clutching him on autopilot. Almost as if it’s trying to decide whether he should be pulled further inside or expelled entirely.

“So good,” he slurs out. “You're such a good girl, Pen. My best girl.”

Pen whimpers. Then rewards him by nudging his cock a little further inside.

“That’s my good girl,” Colin repeats in awe. And in very clear self interest. “So good of you to put me inside like I asked you to.”

There it is. That little whimper again. That hand guiding his cock farther into nirvana again. A noisy swallow as she takes him. Pen blinking rapidly as she processes the added length of his dick in her cunt…

Colin watches it all in fascination and mind-melting arousal. It doesn't help that she keeps gripping him tight between her legs. Those flutters are driving him to near distraction. Colin is starting to vibrate at a frequency only dogs can hear. As much as he loves her boldness and teasing, it’s time to end this.

“I think my good girl deserves her prize,” Colin rasps.

Colin uses his hold on her knees to wrap Pen’s legs back around his waist. Her feet clasp at the ankles, her heels pressing into the meat of his arse. Then he grabs her hand away from his cock and the other one where it’s still resting against his chest. Colin drops a kiss into each of her palms and then deposits them onto his shoulders.

“Best hold on, love,” he whispers. “I’m going to fuck you so well.” Colin puts one hand on her hip and then slides the other up and around Pen’s back, his arm along her spine and his hand splayed between her shoulder blades.

Then Colin surges his hips forward.

His cock slips all the way into her cunt in one smooth, hot glide. Fuck. Colin has to grit his teeth together as their hips slot together and he is fully sheathed inside her. Pen meanwhile lets out a loud, breathy sob of pleasure. Then even breathier, needier exclamations of his name. Colin. Colin.

Fuck. She’s fucking perfect.

Colin drops his head to Pen’s shoulder and takes in a few shuddering breaths. He hasn’t moved yet Colin already feels like a cauldron set to bubble over. It’s only by reciting the alchemist principles one by one that allows him to calm down.

A peace which is promptly shattered by Pen purposefully squeezing her cunt around him. Fuck. Tight. So bloody tight.

“Pen,” he chokes out into her shoulder. “Give me a moment, I beg of you.” He feels her shake her head in opposition, the side of her head knocking into his with its force.

“No! I need you to move Colin. Now. Right fucking now. You have been a bloody tease all morning—“

“Me?” Colin asks incredulously, speaking over her. “You were the one just—“

“And I can’t take it anymore!“ She finishes in a loud shout. Pen’s hands slip up into his hair again. She drags him off her shoulder and then Pen kisses him.

She kisses him.

Colin turns into fizzy champagne as Pen slots her lips over him. Even though it’s harsh from the get go. She mashes her lips over him angrily and sucks on his lips like she has something to prove. Colin’s heart overflows, obviously, at her eager attention.

He just kisses her back sweetly, allowing her to use him however she needs. And when Pen starts lapping her tongue, raspy like a cat’s, against the seam of his lips? Each rough swipe sending tendrils of arousal to coil tighter around Colin’s groin? Well. Colin scrambles to lower his drawbridge and Penelope belligerently storms inside. She tangles their tongues together like she’s trying to do battle, but it doesn’t work. Colin is simply happy to be here. He parries each jab of her tongue joyfully. Lazily.

That must piss Pen off somehow because she retaliates by getting her lips around him and sucking on his tongue like a rabid… well, fox.

Colin groans, more fizzing and champagne bubbles bursting happily inside his stomach. He pulls his hips back until just the tip of his cock is still tethered to Pen. Then Colin swings himself back into the cradle of her waiting thighs. The loud clap of their bodies joining echoes around the cottage.

“Yeah,” Pen moans, letting go of his tongue. “That’s what you promised me. More of that.” She puts her hands back on his shoulders and digs in lightly with her fingertips and claws. As if Pen is reassuring him she’s ready to be ravished. Cheeky as all hell, this one!

Merlin, he loves her.

Not enough to stop teasing her back though. Colin slowly, torturously, drags himself in and out of Pen. Just enough to keep things interesting but not enough to send either of them over the edge. He trails wet kisses along her neck as he goes. Equally slow and exacting. Colin sighs as rolls his hips. This pace is actually rather pleasant. Maybe later they can do it again like this. Soft and sweet. Take their time to stretch out this tension like taffy.

“Colin, please,” Pen begs.

Definitely later.

Colin picks up the pace. He pulls out quickly and sinks back into Pen with vigor. Keeps up that rapid tempo like the hounds of hell are chasing him. The table rattles and scrapes against the floor with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Pen.” Colin slides his hand from her hip back to her knee and hauls it up higher on his body. Pen’s heel is now digging in somewhere along the middle of his spine as she scrambles for purchase.

She keens at the change of angle, throwing her head back.

“Oh! Colin! Yes, right there! Fuck. Right there,” she whimpers. Colin didn’t think he had another gear but apparently he does. He drills into her harder, right into that spot that’s making her see stars, with determination.

Every roll of his hips is sinfully good for him too. Colin’s whole body feels like a fireworks display. The pleasure crackles up his spine and through his extremities before exploding in a shower of brilliant light and color. Bright blues. Hot whites. Sparkling greens. Sharp reds. Vivid yellows.

Colin didn’t know sex could feel like this.

He dips his chin down so that he can stare at where his cock is spearing into Pen’s cunt.

“Blood hell,” he groans as he takes in the obscene view. It’s magical the way he fits into her. The way her thighs frame and hug him so perfectly. That little patch of fur he’s captivated by is now absolutely drenched with their combined fluids. And the sounds? Colin isn’t sure why but they seem louder now that he’s looking. It’s so crass the way their bodies slap together. Yet it’s also launching more fireworks off in his brain to hear them connecting like that. To know that right now they’re not two people but one unit.

“Baby, look at you,” Colin stutters out in between his thrusts. “L-look at you taking me so — so well.” Colin’s hand slides from the back of Pen’s shoulder up to her neck and then cradles the back of her head. He knows he’s being a little pushy but she needs to see this. Gently, but firmly, Colin presses her head down until her forehead knocks against his own.

“Baby, look,” he whispers. Their heads are so close together that he feels it when Pen opens her eyes, her eyelashes brushing against his own. They make eye contact for a moment and his heart stutters in his chest. Then her gaze slides down to where he wants it. Pen’s moan hits him square in the face, knocking against his nose and his mouth. Colin flicks out his tongue to trace it off his lips.

“My angel,” Colin pants as they both watch the movement of their bodies. “You were made for me, Pen. Can — can you see it? F-f-feel it? My cock belongs inside you.” She likes that. Pen squeezes around his cock at his words. Colin hisses at the added pressure. Turnabout is fair play. The next time he fucks into Pen he throws in a grind at the end, rubbing his pelvis against her neglected clit.

Pen barks. Literally barks.

Colin has heard those sounds echoing across the street before and they always make him feel awkward. The Featherington sisters, Prudence and Phillipa, aren’t quiet about their lovemaking. Colin always felt like an unwilling interloper in their sexcapades. He didn’t want to hear that.

Now though? Now that he’s the one eliciting those yelps? Now that it’s Pen making those startled barks and squirming on the end of his cock? Colin understands the appeal. Frankly, he feels a sense of kinship with the Featherington husbands at this moment. Because it suddenly makes sense why those men are constantly tupping their noisy wives, the distinct possibility of being overheard be damned.

Colin is a converted man when it comes to this sound. It's addictive. He wants to keep Pen stuffed and barking all day long.

“Seven hells, Pen,” Colin whines. “So hot. You’re so f-f-fucking hot.” He repeats his grinding motion against her clit and this time Pen mewls like a kitten. She arches her back and her nipples rake against his chest. Colin’s thrusts stutter at that because fuck. Her claws dig harder into his shoulder blades while her feet dig harder into his back and bum. Even that causes the little claws on her toes to scrape against him pleasantly.

He can’t take it anymore.

Colin wraps his fingers into her curls and uses his hold to tug her head up. Then he’s plastering his lips against hers with a heady moan of relief. Kissing Pen while his cock is moving inside her is everything. It’s as if Colin has slipped out of this dimension and into another one that’s made just out of pleasure. All Colin can see and taste and feel and smell and hear is Pen.

Pen, Pen, Pen.

He practically licks her aborted barks off the back of her teeth as he continues to fuck her mouth. Colin consumes her lips with aching relief to be wrapped up around and inside her. It’s not the only part of him that’s eager to be closer either. Colin nestles his cock into the depths of her pussy and then refuses to pull back out. He does swivel his hips and keep grinding against Pen. But that’s simply self preservation. Colin thinks she’s liable to kill him if he stops fucking her completely. Thrusting though is off the table for the moment. Colin doesn’t want to be separated from her warm, weeping channel. Not for a second.

Colin reconnects their chests and whimpers as her nipples dig back into him. Then he starts pushing and leaning until Pen gets the message. She allows herself to be tipped until her back lies flush against the surface of the table. Colin breaks the kiss for a moment, just to suck in a ragged breath, before he dives back onto her lips.

As much as he wants to stay notched inside her and keep every part of her body smothered by his, his dick won’t be fobbed off for long. It twitches and aches inside of Pen. Colin gives a small little thrust just to ease some of the need pooling in his groin. But that only makes the ache worse.

Colin brackets her chest with both his arms and wraps his hands under her armpits and shoulder blades before curving his hands around her shoulders. He fingers the little indents he left earlier with his teeth with relish. He backs up his hips and eases his cock almost all the way out of her. Then Colin uses his leverage on her shoulders to practically shove Pen back into his cock. What’s left of Colin’s self control promptly frays and snaps. He begins to frantically rut into her, harder and deeper with each pulse.

Pen. Darling Pen. She simply meets his every harsh stroke with an eager tilt of her own hips. Her mouth gives as good as it gets too. She even nips at his lips with her little fangs.

If Colin thought the table was rattling before, it’s nothing compared to now. He can literally feel it moving. Every few thrusts, Colin needs to shuffle forward a bit to keep up with the way their love making is steadily marching the table across the floor.

Colin wants to keep kissing Pen. Never wants to stop. But he can feel his body tightening and he’s losing all sense of rhythm as the telltale spark of his orgasm nips at his heels. So he reluctantly tears his lips away from Pen’s.

“Darling, I’m going to come,” Colin pants against her chin.

At that, Pen scratches her claws down his back and tips her head back to let out another one of those loud, desperate barks. Colin trembles, trying very hard to hold back on coming. He licks a blazing hot path against her throat, lapping up her salt and sweat. Ends his journey back at her lips because Colin has no choice. He has to kiss her. He has to.

“Pen,” Colin says after a moment or two of frenzied kissing. And fucking. He struggles to remember that this is important. “Angel, where should I come?”

Pen lets out a little chirp and thrashes underneath him. She practically slams her hips up this time in her desperation to meet his thrusts. Colin is doomed if she doesn’t answer in the next minute or so.

“Penelope Featherington,” Colin threatens in a stern voice. This attempt to focus Pen immediately backfires. Colin doesn’t even get the rest of his sentence out before she is shoving her hand in between their bodies. She begins to rub her clit with furious strokes. His stomach jumps with every brush of her knuckles against his abdomen.

“Pen,” he begs instead with a pathetic whimper. “Baby, please. I need to know. Can I come inside you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes,” Pen chants. That response is so fucking precious! Colin feels his heart flutter and his whole body melts further into Pen’s embrace as he considers her enthusiasm. She wants his cum so badly! And he wants to give it to her but…

“Darling, should I come inside you?” He presses onwards. “I don’t want to get you pregnant.” He doesn’t realize that’s a lie until the words are out of his mouth. As soon as Colin’s brain processes the sentence, his imagination conjures up the image of Pen round with his child. His hips stutter in surprise and his cock throbs inside her cunt at the thought of knocking her up. Surrounding themselves with a litter of tiny, adorable kits…

Bloody hell.

Pen feels his reaction. Of course she does. She moans and tightens around him. Merlin, she needs to stop doing that.

But then his angel takes mercy on him.

“I’m on birth control, Colin,” Pen finally responds with a moan. She’s on birth control. Hallelujah! Colin fucks into her with renewed abandon. There is no stopping the train now. It has left the station. With it, any ability to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m going to— gunna— gunna fill up your pretty pussy with my cum,” Colin slurs over the lurid slaps of his hips against hers, his balls slamming under her cunt.

More barking. More thrashing. More meeting his thrusts with her own. Pen is a wanton vision beneath him.

“Gunna take my cum, b-baby girl?” He asks.

“Yes, Colin, yes!” Pen pants. Fuck. His mouth unhinges and more filth pours out.

“You’re going to like — like it, Pen. I’m going to fill you up. So — so much. I can already feel it.” Colin growls. He drives in with sloppy enthusiasm as he thinks about soaking her with his spend. “You won’t be able to hold — hold it all. It’s gunna drip — fuck — drip right out of you.”

Pen’s fingers speed up over her clit at his words. Her eyes drift shut. Little moans fall like dew drops from her mouth.

Colin catches each one with his lips.

“Pen, you gunna come when I fill you up?” He asks. Mostly because he feels a tugging sensation pulling behind his balls and realizes he won’t be able to get her over the finish line before he erupts.

His pretty little baby nods enthusiastically. Thank fuck.

“U-use your words, Angel,” Colin barely has the wherewithal to tease her. Pen cocks her head to the side and regards him curiously for a moment. Oh no. That impish sparkle is dancing back across her gaze.

“Colin, I need you to — ah — come inside my p-pussy. I need y-your cum filling me up — mhhm — up to the brim. I won’t be able to come without — oh, fuck — I can’t come until you give me your cum. Please, Colin. Don’t good girls deserve cum? Am I not your — ah — your good g-girl?”

Seven fucking hells.

Pen isn’t an angel. She’s a bloody demon sent to torment him.

“Pen,” Colin hisses in distress. But it’s too late because Pen’s words strike a match and light the fuse within him. It pops and fizzles as he continues to pump into her. Every instinct drives Colin to fulfill Pen’s request. No more teasing, no more words, nothing else exists except the single point where he is docked. This devilish fiend needs his cum. And Colin’s going to give it to her.

Then his wick burns down to its end.

Colin explodes. More fireworks launch in a grand finale. It’s all technicolor — those same reds, greens, blues, whites, and yellows from before — flashing bright and dazzling across his vision. He goes blind for a moment as he’s bombarded with all that light.

His cock spasms and his ball seize. Colin’s orgasm is a rocket that launches him into the sky and sends white hot sparks of pleasure scattering through his bloodstream. Meanwhile thick ropes of cum shoot out of him with every piston of his hips. Colin shudders and whines as he shoves himself into Pen’s sweet heat again and again to give her every drop.

Colin wants to whisper more dirty things to her. Something like “take it” or “is this what you wanted?” But when he opens his mouth only sweetness pours out.

“Angel,” he groans. “I love you. I love you. So much, Penelope. I love — ” Colin’s words stutter to a stop as Pen’s back bows and she clenches him hard between her thighs. Her mouth is wide open in a silent scream.

Oh fuck. She’s coming.

Joy soars through Colin as he witnesses her shatter beneath him. He’s eternally grateful that he’s still hard enough to fuck her through it. Colin spends the last few pulses of his orgasm hammering into that spot that sets her howling. When he’s finally wrung dry and starting to go soft, Colin merely refocuses his attention.

He reaches in between their bodies and weakly bats her hand away from her clit. He takes over strumming and rubbing Pen’s little crystal and sinks two fingers back into her cunt so he can keep her stuffed with his cum. Colin diligently works Penelope through the last vestiges of her climax. She moans and chitters into his open mouth as she finishes.

And Colin? He collapses in an exhausted heap on top of her.

Colin isn’t like other men. He’s known that for a while now.

He’s more sensitive than he ought to be. Nerdier than he’s expected to be. Kinder than his good looks and charm and family wealth set him up to be. A little thicker and softer around the middle than is entirely fashionable.

Colin doesn’t enjoy having sex.

Or at least, he hasn’t. Not since Marina.

Sex always felt like another way Colin doesn’t measure up. Society has told him that one night stands are the goal and the dream, and it was a lesson his older brothers certainly reinforced. So prior to Marina he sought out that type of transactional intercourse with a single-minded focus. And after Marina, he tried (and failed miserably) to fall back into the habit.

The chase of it all never sat right with Colin. Nor did the sex or the awkward aftermath that followed. Those dalliances never made him feel masculine or powerful. They didn’t make him feel good. What they did was leave Colin sad and aching.

Purposeless.

Lonely.

His friendship with Penelope has helped him over the years. With her guidance, Colin has shed some of the expectations he carries around his gender and his privilege. She’s taught him it’s okay to be different. To embrace it and love it, even. Penelope’s quiet but steadfast confidence in herself and who she is has bolstered Colin by example.

So it’s almost not shocking that sex with Pen is no different. It changes his world view. His very sense of self. Eating her out and then fucking her on the table has pulled apart the discordant pieces of his brain and slowly put them back together whole.

Colin is a sexual person. He does love having sex. So long as it’s with Penelope.

Being with her makes him feel all those things that were missing before. Desire and passion. Companionship. Love. Purpose. Quite frankly, Colin doesn’t think he’d liked any of the sex he’d had with Marina over the course of their two year relationship half as well as he enjoyed fucking Pen just now.

After he comes down from the high of both his orgasm and that epiphany, Colin scoops Pen up off the table and carries her to his bed. He tucks them both under the covers of his golden yellow quilt then insinuates his thigh between her own. Colin sleepily peppers her face and collarbone with kisses until he loses the battle and drifts off into a light doze.

When he wakes, Colin is hard and raring to go. A shocking enough occurrence that he immediately freezes. Colin can’t remember the last time he’s shared a bed with a person just to sleep nor desired anyone enough to go another round.

Well…he does remember, actually.

It was Marina. Always Marina. Haunting him. Stealing his past, his present, and his future. Or, at least, that’s how he used to feel. Somehow today, right now, with Penelope in his arms, Colin feels that bitterness slip away like sand between his uncupped fingers.

He nuzzles into Pen’s hair gratefully. Lovingly.

“Pen, you awake?” He murmurs.

“Mmhmm,” comes a soft rumble against his chest.

“You wanna…?” He trails off suggestively.

Pen’s breath hitches in her throat at his question. All the while Colin tries to ignore that his hard cock is already pressing into the soft pillowy comfort of her stomach. Surrounding him enough that Colin’s almost positive that he could come from just a few thrusts against the wonderful haven created by her tummy.

“Uh-huh,” Pen whispers.

It’s quite simple from there to throw Pen’s leg over his hip and position himself back at her entrance. Colin eases his cock back into her welcoming heat with a groan. The pace continues to be gentle from there. Colin rocks into Pen slowly and steadily. Merlin, she feels absolutely divine! He palms against her thigh with one hand and with the other gently tips Pen’s face up towards him so he can steal more kisses. Though is it really stealing if she offers them up so willingly?

After they both come, Colin barely finds the wherewithal to grab a clean dishrag from the kitchen and dampen it, bringing it back to bed so he can mop up Pen’s pussy and then his spent cock. Though in reality, Colin thinks he just ends up smearing himself with her essence. He lobs the dirty towel towards the kitchen sink, where it hits the countertop with a splat before tipping over the sink lip and joining the potion soaked rags he’d used earlier.

“Show off,” Pen grouses sleepily. But she lets him fold her back into his arms, this time with her back pressed to his front, her tail sliding silkily against his spent cock and worn out thighs. He doesn’t quite fall back asleep but he isn’t fully awake either. Colin keeps moving his hands over her body lazily. Reacquaints himself with her plush breasts, the heavy weight of her stomach, and the fur above her cunt.

He doesn’t mean to get them started again but if he’s being allowed to touch and pet and squeeze Penelope then…

“Can I touch your tail?” Colin whispers quietly into the skin of her shoulder. One arm is wedged under her body with his hand caressing one of her breasts. The other one, though, slides up from her thigh to pet instead at her hip. Ready to move at a moment's notice.

“Yes,” she rasps. And Colin doesn’t waste a minute. His hand slides from her hip to the base of her tail. It’s considered very intimate to touch a Hybrid’s tail. For those that have them, anyway. Colin sometimes sees the Featherington sisters in the front garden, brushing each other’s tails and gossiping about this and that. It always seemed so wholesome and lovely. Magical in a way that makes Colin feel a bit silly in comparison, brewing his little concoctions. Because what could compare to the love and care they took with one another to carefully tease a comb through fluffy, snarled strands?

Colin wraps a hand around the base of her tail and then pulls his fist slowly down the length of her. Surprisingly, the fur here is a little bit more coarse than the hair on her ears and cunt. He can also feel a slight denseness under his hand, muscle and bone he supposes. It radiates a certain amount of grace and dexterity that Colin always noticed from afar but can truly appreciate now that he’s caressing all that lithe power. She’s being so good for him too. Colin suspects she wants to twitch and flick her tail beneath his firm hold. Yet she’s keeping herself perfectly still. His best girl…

Colin releases her breast and pulls his arm out from beneath her body. He gets two hands on her tail this time and repeats his downward descent over all that glossy fur. Colin does a third pass. Then a fourth. Loses count after that, with no other thought but enjoying the movement of his palms as they slide over and fist all that prettiness.

Penelope starts making those little chirps of arousal, high in the back of her throat. Colin removes his hands and drags Penelope by the hip until her back and tail are once again pressed against him. Only this time Colin is hard and throbbing. Colin starts to rub his erection into her tail instead, long grinds that make them both whimper.

“On your knees, love,” Colin eventually demands, letting his words sink hot and needy into the triangle of her ear. Pen turns over immediately, getting her hands and knees propped up on the mattress.

Colin takes her like that. Eases back into her cunt for the third time this morning with one hand gripping her hard on the shoulder and the other wrapped around the base of her tail. His mouth sucks on the fluffy tip of it as her orgasm triggers Colin to follow.

The potion does a lot for his stamina. Either that or Colin is simply that pent up after five years and only a handful of lackluster one night stands to tide him over. Maybe it’s just Penelope and how irresistible she is.

After the near back to back fucking in his bed, Colin tries to be chivalrous. He starts a bath and carries her to the tub when it’s ready. But seeing Penelope pink up in the hot water, her breasts floating just under the surface, does him in. Within five minutes Colin is slipping into the bathtub and pulling her back onto his newly flush cock. Water flies everywhere around the bathroom as Penelope rides him at a frantic pace, but it’s worth it. She’s so beautiful like this. Pen belongs on his lap, skin glistening, mouth open wide as she moans, and hips rocking as she stuffs his cock where she needs him most. Understandably, Colin doesn’t last long under these conditions. His shout echoes off the tile as Colin pulses and paints her cunt with his cum.

They don’t even make it out of the bathroom for their next round. When they finally emerge from the bath, Colin picks her up and deposits Pen on the sink’s countertop. Then, aptly, Colin sinks to his knees so he can eat her out again. He does it slowly and luxuriously. Not like earlier when he was desperate for a taste of her. Now he takes his time. Really revels in each silky brush of her beneath his tongue.

He pries her apart, teasing her for the better part of a half hour before he sucks on her clit with purpose and feeds her his fingers. Penelope sobs as she comes. Little tears even run down her face and fall off her chin. When he finally gets to his feet, Colin swipes his tongue greedily over the salty tracks.

“Are you hard again?” Penelope asks breathlessly as his cock slides hot and flush against her leg.

“Yeah,” he groans. Penelope slips off the vanity. Then she twists in his hold until her hands are on the countertop and her arse and tail are rubbing up against his cock. Colin grabs her hips gratefully and notches himself back inside. He fucks her slow, his head hooked over her shoulder, both of them staring at themselves in the mirror hanging over the sink.

They look so good together. Colin even whimpers that truth into her ear. Pen clenches hard around him when he says it. So Colin keeps repeating it, and several other variations, over and over again until the last one tips Pen over the edge and drags Colin along right after.

He likes the position so much that he fucks her again like that on the kitchen counter after lunch. Then again the next time he gets horny, dragging her over to his writing desk. Colin flips open his journal to a blank page and then eagerly bends Pen over the desk until her breasts are molded against the pages. He tucks his cock back inside the warm, wet heat of her and takes her so hard that Colin’s pretty sure part of the deck cracks. But the noise is difficult to hear over the howls Pen lets out as she snaps her hips back to meet his.

After that Colin carries her bridal style to the worn maroon armchair he keeps in front of the fireplace and collapses into it. His bare arse against the rough material and her bare arse pressing down on the tops of his thighs. Penelope snuggles her head into the crook of his neck and presses gentle little kisses against his throat. It’s so peaceful and warm in their little cocoon. His eyes drift shut to the sound of the crackling fire and the gentle smacks of Pen’s lips.

When Colin wakes up, he still hears the logs popping and hissing. But instead of kissing noises, Pen is panting loudly into his neck. He can feel the heat and moisture with every breath. His girl is wriggling on his lap, rubbing her wet slit over his hard cock.

“You need me, baby girl?” He asks sleepily.

Pen whines into his neck and nods helplessly. Colin slips his fingers into her needy cunt and lazily slides them in and out of her. His touch gets a little firmer, a little harder as he wakes up fully. Colin even rubs his cock up against her arse in time with the thrust of his fingers. His other hand wanders over her back and slips down her spine until he’s wrapped his fist around the base of her tail. Merlin. Something about touching her there undoes him. It’s like there is static electricity pulsing through his fingertips every time he touches this spot.

“Pen,” he groans, tugging on her tail. Penelope lets out an excited little yip at the movement. So Colin does it again using a little more force. “Am I making you wet, darling?” He asks, though the question is entirely rhetorical. Colin can hear the loud squelch of her, feel the slick drooling from her cunt, and smell the heady musk of her arousal.

Penelope nods frantically and saws her body between his two hands with eager thrusts. Colin plasters his mouth to her ear and begins whispering absolute filth that he didn’t know he was capable of. Things like calling Pen a dirty slut. A whore. His whore. He even manages to release her tail so he can smack her arse and demand that she soak him in her pussy juice. Two words he doesn’t think he’s ever strung together before today but that feel right at this moment.

Pen listens rather beautifully. She’s sopping wet. Every motion of his fingers causes more of it to gush out her cunt, drench his hand and wrist, and pool delightfully onto his thighs. Every filthy thing Colin says seems to get her more excited. And when Pen finally comes, explosively and gripping his fingers tight, she does indeed soak him. As requested.

Colin pulls his fingers out of her cunt so he can stick them in his mouth and suck off the taste of her. Meanwhile Pen slides to the floor. She grabs him by the knees and spreads him open, wriggling her way into the newly created space. Her little tongue starts mopping up the mess she’s made of his thighs. Every pass is rough and scratchy and Colin gets harder with each lap. Then Pen moves her mouth over his cock to take care of that too.

Later, Colin makes them a simple dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and cheddar crisps. They’re both starving. As he cooks the sandwiches, Penelope sits at the table and regales him with a funny story about a customer from work. It could almost be any other day in their friendship except for the fact they’re both completely nude. When he sneaks glances at her over his shoulder he gets warm all over at how domestic this feels. How normal. How right.

With all these swirling thoughts mixed with his never ending, burning need for her, Colin barely makes it through the end of their simple meal together. He sucks the cheddar dust from Penelope’s fingers and then ducks under the table so he can have his dessert. They end up banging again in short order, Colin dragging her under with him and setting her onto his lap. He has to put his hand on the crown of her head to stop it from thunking up against the hardwood with every thrust.

Eventually they manage to crawl out from beneath the table to haul themselves back to the bathroom. They take a shower this time, handsy and flirty but luckily fuck free.

Colin bundles her into his bed and wraps his body around her naked one, much like he did earlier in the day. The only thing that’s changed is they’re well beyond well-fucked and now Penelope smells like his shampoo and body wash rather than the delightful scent of spiced apples. He takes a deep whiff of the skin at her neck, letting the smell of basil and salt (the smell of him on her) crowd his senses.

“I love you,” he whispers. He kisses the base of one of her ears, which flicks against his touch.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope says sharply. Colin feels her tension manifest suddenly in his arms. “I know you can’t help it. That it’s just the potion talking but, can you please keep that sort of thing to yourself? I — I don’t want to hear that when you don’t really mean it.”

Colin frowns. But he does mean it! He loves her.

Except…Colin can’t recall thinking that prior to today. He can’t remember ever once being attracted to Penelope, never mind having any fleeting thoughts of them as more than friends.

Sure they were in each other’s pockets more often than not. And Colin always looks forward to their standing lunches together on Fridays, meeting in between their respective workplaces for a quick bite and more than a few laughs. Not to mention, Pen is the one person in his life Colin actually feels like he can let his guard down around. He can be angry or silly or frustrated. Colin doesn’t have to box himself up and present himself as a nice, neat little package. Not for Penelope. She accepts him as is.

Somewhere in the last several years, Penelope has become his person. It’s a fact built on mutual kindness, compassion, and respect. But Colin isn’t sure there’s been any semblance of romance in the mix. It’s always been just friendship. Nothing more.

So he holds his tongue. She must be right. It must be the potion talking. Though Colin finds that the idea that this — today, them, being together, his love — is nothing more than a potions fueled blip leaves him with a gnawing emptiness that he doesn’t know what to do with.

Colin falls into an uneasy sleep.

Two days later, Colin groans into Penelope’s collarbone as she rides him in his chair by the fireplace.

“Why won’t this fucking potion wear off?” He whimpers, snapping his hips up to meet Penelope’s downward thrust. They’d fucked their way back through the entire cottage again yesterday. His bedsheets were in desperate need of a wash after the sheer volume of bodily fluids they’d drenched them in.

Colin had even dragged Pen outside just so they could get some fresh air. The cottage was getting pretty rank, even after they’d opened the windows. Colin had pushed her underneath the branches of a nearby willow tree and taken her up against the trunk, her legs wrapped around his waist and her back scraping against the bark. He’d later had to brew up a quick ointment to apply to the tiny but angry red marks scattered against her skin.

Penelope stops squirming on his lap as she considers his question. Which is a travesty. Colin regrets that he opened his mouth at all.

“Hmm,” she offers cryptically. She ducks her head down and snuffs at his neck and then down into one of his armpits. “You don’t reek of turpentine anymore. And you were able to sleep through the night without ravaging me again.”

A sad milestone but a milestone all the same. Although he managed to make it through the night this time, that didn’t stop him from feeling desperate for her by morning. When he woke up with Penelope in his arms his cock had been quick to plump up and demand her attention. He’d eagerly nipped at her shoulder and frantically humped against her tail. Colin had literally begged her to let him back into her warm, wet, sloppy cunt.

Even after that fantastic romp in the sheets, Colin had been ready to take her again not an hour later. She just looked so adorable, wrapped up in his thick sweater and a pair of his boxer shorts clinging obscenely to her thick thighs. He’d quickly shoveled the last couple of bites of toast into his mouth before pulling Penelope up from the table and dragging her into the armchair for round two.

“What are you saying?” Colin says in between delicate kisses into Pen’s shoulder. If she won’t move, the least Colin can do is count each of her freckles with his lips.

“I think the potion wore off during the night Colin,” Pen states. Her tongue darts out and flicks against the seam of his armpit. His cock twitches inside her at that. “Mmmm,” she murmurs. This is said a little less confidently and a lot more distractedly. Pen hauls up his arm and buries her entire face into the hot, sweaty stink of hair there. She snuffs again, deeply, and then whimpers. Penelope starts grinding against his lap again almost like she can’t help it. “Merlin, you smell so good Colin.”

“Yeah?” He responds shakily. It’s hard to concentrate when Pen is wriggling on top of his cock like this. But now that she mentions it he does feel different. Colin isn’t feverish anymore and his head is less foggy. He can actually concentrate on other things beyond Penelope. Not that he wants to, but technically he can. His impulse control has also returned to him… more or less. But there are some effects that are still lingering in Colin’s blood stream, he thinks. Lust for one. And, well…

“Mmmhmmm. You don’t stink of potion anymore. You — you smell like yourself. Like earth and basil and sea salt. Ah! And — and like me. Fates sake, Colin, you smell like mine,” Penelope rasps into his skin. And then she’s biting and licking him at the juncture of his arm, her little fangs fucking up his restraint. Colin tightens his hold on Pen’s hips and starts thrusting up again.

“Colin,” she whimpers. “You smell like mine,” she repeats in a tone full of wonder. Those aroused chirps come back with every upward snap of Colin’s hips. “What did you do Colin? Fuck! Ah—“ Pen digs herself out of his armpit and sucks greedily against his pulse point. Once again inhaling at his skin like she can smell something he can’t. Which is probably the case come to think of it.

“Bloody hell Pen, are you sure you didn’t get dosed with the love potion too?” Colin chokes out. He means it mostly as a joke but also the possessive way she’s talking right now does mimic his own frantic declarations while he was under the influence. She sounds almost drunk on whatever she can smell. He did still have those dirty, potion soaked rags just laying in the sink…

“Wouldn’t have mattered if I did,” she groans into his neck.

“Huh?” Colin reluctantly stops the rocking of his hips to focus on this odd statement. The scientist in him starts thinking through the practical implications. “Why not? Because you’re a Hybrid? Do you think that impacts the chem-”

Penelope sighs and grabs his face in between her hands. Her tiny claws dig into his cheeks pleasantly. She pulls her hips up until only the tip of his cock is inside her. He immediately feels bereft without her snug heat wrapped around all of him. But her eyes roam over him seriously as if she’s trying to come to an important decision. So Colin tries to be patient.

“No, you ridiculous man. It wouldn’t have mattered because I’m already in love with you.” Penelope punctuates that statement by sinking back down slowly but firmly onto his cock. Colin blinks up at her stupidly. She rises up again and repeats the action. But this time, as she rocks her hips downward, Pen whispers “I’ve loved you since the first moment you moved in.”

In the blink of an eye, Colin has them out of the chair and onto the hardwood floor in front of the fireplace. He grabs Pen’s ankles and hooks them over his shoulders. Then he moves his hands to encircle her wrists and pins them up high above her head. Colin practically folds her in two as he starts fucking into her with little finesse. He can’t help himself. Penelope’s simple declaration has him feeling wild and off kilter. Even more feral than he had been with the potion thrumming through his veins.

“You love me, sweet girl?” Colin slurs, snapping his hips violently.

“Yes!” Penelope shouts. “Colin, yes.”

“Here I was feeling guilty that I’d coerced you into fucking me,” Colin grunts. “But you were enjoying every moment of it, weren’t you darling?”

Penelope thrashes underneath him, half whimpering, half chittering in that little fox like way.

Colin smears his lips over hers messily. Sucks those sounds right out of her mouth. He never wants to go another night without drawing them out of her.

“Yeah, you liked every moment of my big cock splitting you open, didn’t you Pen?” Her head nods back and forth desperately. Then she moans as Colin shoves his big cock back into her. Again. And again. And again. “Good. Take it sweet girl. My cock drunk wife.”

Pen’s eyes snap open, the amber and gold widening in surprise.

“Col— Colin?” She hiccups through another hard thrust.

“I think the potion worked, Pen,” he whines. “It’s supposed to— fuck, angel you feel so good.” Colin loses track of what he was babbling about. Her cunt is squeezing him so tightly and the tip of her tail keeps flicking distractingly against his thigh. He is so close. He pulls one of his hands off her wrist and shoves it between their stomachs to get at her clit.

Pen chitters again, her lips right next to his ear, as Colin flicks over her with newly honed precision.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Colin promises. “Come on now.” He presses messy kisses over her cheeks and forehead. It’s not just his cock that’s about to burst. Colin’s heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of his chest and into the warm embrace of Penelope’s. He presses in tighter circles over her nub as his hips start to lose any sense of rhythm beyond in, in, in.

“Come on your husband’s cock, Pen,” Colin demands, his voice thick and gritty.

He’s seen Penelope come several times over the last few days. But this one is his favorite. She shudders and rolls her hips up to meet him. Colin slides his hand from his purchase on her wrist so that he can thread their fingers together in a tight hold. Pen’s claws dig hard into the back of his hand. Colin can already feel the little pinpricks of pain that tells him she’s drawing blood.

Then her cunt seizes around him and she wails.

Penelope’s other hand scrabbles for purchase and lands in his hair, tugging so hard Colin thinks he might lose a chunk of it. Not that it matters. He would happily go bald for her. Especially if it means he’s successfully fucking her to completion.

Colin keeps faithfully snapping his hips, gasping in agony as he tries to stave off his own orgasm. He isn’t ready to leave the tight cradle of her thighs and the warm heat of her desire.

“Love you,” Penelope whimpers as her body starts to come down from her orgasm. “Colin, I love you.”

He loses all ability to hold back after that. Colin only manages another two pumps before his balls tighten dangerously. Then he’s emptying himself into Penelope with a roar.

Colin loses a bit of time after that. When he comes back to his body, it’s to the realization he’s gone completely boneless on top of Pen. Her fingers are carding lovingly through his hair and his face is smooshed rather pleasantly against one of her breasts.

“How long was I out?” Colin asks quietly. He stares at the fire as it crackles beside them. Absently, Colin realizes he will have to go out to the woodshed soon before they run out of firewood.

“Only a few minutes, darling.”

Darling.

He’s been the one to call her all sorts of pet names over the last few days. They’d dripped out of his mouth like honey, each one tasting sweet and luscious. Yet this single endearment, the first she’s directed at him, is tooth-rottingly delicious.

And oddly enough, after all their activities of the last few days, it’s this declaration that finally brings a blush to Colin’s face. He feels himself turn a bright cherry red as it steals across his face, dipping down towards his neck and jumping up towards his ears. Colin is equal parts shy and pleased at how much that single word cracks him open. He’s positively squirming with happiness.

She loves him. She’s loved him since the day they met. He is her darling.

Colin is hopelessly smitten with Pen. He cannot, will not, does not want to deny it. He loves Penelope so damn much. And that’s not the potion talking either. That’s him, that’s—

Colin stiffens in shock.

The potion.

Experiment number nine. Colin recalls all his research and all the trials he’d done to get to this particular recipe. He set out to develop a love potion that would unveil his own heart to him.

And here he is. Potion worn off. Still in love with Penelope.

Aching with it, in fact. Love doesn’t even feel like the right word to explain how Colin is bursting with devotion and joy and a thousand other emotions that are all tied directly to one person. His Pen.

Colin scrambles up onto his forearms so he can look down at Penelope’s lovely face.

“Pen!” He says excitedly. “The potion! It worked!”

“I’ll say,” Penelope says with a sardonic twist of her lips. Colin shakes his head, a sweaty brown curl falling into his eyes with the movement.

“No. Well, I mean yes. I do think I was a bit heavy handed on some of the components,” Colin says thoughtfully. His brain starts pulling on that thread. “You know, there is probably a practical application for some of this beyond its intended purpose. If I tweaked the formula, I could probably develop a fairly successful erectile dysfunction medication — wait, no, that’s not my point!” Colin huffs, annoyed that he’s gotten distracted.

“What is your point, exactly?” Pen asks him teasingly. She even pokes a finger at his lip to echo the drugged out version of him from two days ago.

Colin doesn’t let her get away with that. As she goes to remove it, he wraps his mouth around her finger and sucks on it. Penelope lets out a delightful little gasp of surprise. Colin stares into her beautiful brown eyes as he swirls his tongue around her finger.

“My point, dearest,” he says happily as he finally pops off of her finger, a string of saliva connecting them for a moment before it snaps and drips down onto her chest, “is that I love you too.”

Penelope’s chin wobbles dangerously.

“None of that now, angel,” Colin chides. He leans forward and presses a kiss to her quivering chin. “Only smiles for me, yeah?” He quips again. Colin aims to repeat everything he’s said to her over the last few days until she believes he meant every word.

He slides his mouth up a little higher to capture her mouth in a kiss. But they’re both smiling too widely to actually make much out of it and their teeth end up clacking together as a result. They dissolve into helpless giggles.

When they’re finally able to catch their breath, Colin tells her about the potion. The details he’d left out explaining to her the first time. He outlines what exactly he’d been trying to achieve. There is also the newest revelation he needs to share. That his experiments always had a sharp drop off — obsessively in love one moment and then poof! Gone the next! — the previous times the potions finished working their way through his system.

But there’s been nothing like that today. It’s why Colin hadn’t initially realized the potion had worn off. His feelings never dissipated. If anything, Colin may be falling deeper in love with her with every passing minute.

How can he not? Penelope is lying naked on the floor underneath him and, when he finishes explaining all this, Pen begins to bombard him with eager questions about his potion. She wants to know more about his research — keenly interested in what other books he read during his research, of course— and what adaptations he’s made throughout the course of his experimentation. Her face is giddy and greedy as she tries to pick apart his brain. Merlin. Colin is absolutely crazy for her.

Penelope’s voice stutters to a halt.

“Colin! You can’t possibly be getting hard again!” Penelope shouts in disbelief. Her fine orange eyebrows lift almost into her hairline.

He nuzzles his way into the skin of her neck. So soft. Everywhere and always.

“I don’t know what to tell you Pen,” he groans. “I love you and my body knows it. I can’t—“ he rocks his hips against hers again in a slow, torturous roll that has his cock pricking up further in interest. “I can’t help it.”

Penelope sniffs at him, her nose pressing quickly into his hair. She pulls his face out of her neck so she can snuff all over his eyes and nose and cheeks before dipping down to his neck. Then, pleasingly, Pen buries her nose into one of his armpits again. Once she’s done Penelope meets his gaze and gives him a golden smile that sinks into Colin’s bones.

“You had to be sure, huh?” Colin asks with a lazy smile of his own and an even lazier rock of his hips. He’d started to suspect earlier. But now, with her very deliberate and intentional scenting of him, Colin is certain he knows what’s going on. “You can smell it on me, can’t you? That I love you?”

Penelope nods once, shyly.

“You… you smell like my mate, Colin,” she offers before she loops her arms up around his neck. It’s a statement that poses more questions than answers. Truth be told, Colin doesn’t know a lot about Hybrid abilities and customs, even after all this time being best friends and neighbors with one.

But then Pen’s knees come up to cradle his hips and her little feet hitch around the curve of his bum. Which promptly causes the analytical part of his brain to put up an ‘out of order’ sign.

“That’s fascinating,” Colin says with a groan. He grinds his hips against her with more fervor. “I’ll need you to tell me all about it in five minutes.” Colin drops his head down so he can suck at the top of one of her breasts. He blazes a hot, wet path downward until his tongue is wrapping around her nipple. “Maybe ten,” Colin mumbles around his mouthful.

Colin leaves the cottage later that evening with the formula for a groundbreaking potion and a fiancée.

All in all, not a bad couple of days’ work.