Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They're in her bed when Penelope first asks him.

Perhaps it's because of the sex marathon they've just had, how her limbs are more relaxed, her head resting against his bare chest, calmed by her friend's heartbeat in her ear. Their bodies are flush with sweat and the air is musky with the scent of their coupling, and Penelope finds herself relishing the quiet and stillness after Colin has made her quake and whimper and scream.

They don't usually stay like this for too long—she has set down her rules for a reason, after all. No sleeping over. No pet names once the deed is done. No commitment from either of them—but if he's in the country (never for very long) and she's available and single (shamefully, eternally so), he'll come to hers and things will just… happen.

Technically, Colin's breaking his own rule by being with her. When he is in the country and not being a photojournalist, he works security and teaches the occasional rope class for Tilley’s, a BDSM club that Genevieve introduced Pen to last year. And when Penelope had first encountered Colin there, they'd both promised each other to keep it between them, and Colin had shared how he didn't do hookups via the club. It undermined his credibility, or something, but Penelope wished dearly that she had learned about this another way.

She'd been standing in line behind Bertie and James, two regulars she'd seen around the club but not spoken to much. She was standing a few feet away, and Colin had his back to them, putting away coats and phones as they spoke.

“So what's the deal with you and that pretty redhead, Colin?"

“Oh yeah, Penny something?” James said.

“Her name is Penelope,” Colin said, rolling his eyes. “She hates being called Penny.”

“You must know her pretty well. Tell me, have you two ever—”

“Are you kidding me?" Colin had said dismissively. Clearly none of them had noticed Penelope standing behind them, though she supposed she should be thankful that there wasn’t anyone behind her. “Me and Penelope? You must be joking. Not in your wildest fucking fantasies, Bert—oh, shit, Pen, I..."

As Colin turned around and his eyes fell on Penelope, she had just shrugged. Bertie and James had sniggered and moved into the club, and Penelope took off her coat and handed over her phone to Colin as she always did, revealing her usual yoga pants and black t-shirt combo. “It's all right, Colin.”

Colin, to his credit, had looked positively appalled at himself, like he couldn't believe that he said those words aloud. He fingered the open collar of his shirt nervously, unable to meet her gaze, her coat and phone still on the desk between them. “No, it's really fucking not, Pen. I'm so sorry—”

"You're fine, trust me,” Penelope had said, only she then averted her eyes too. "You realise I never asked, right?”

She didn't add that she only never asked because Colin Bridgerton was way, way out of her league, not to mention her best friend's elusive brother who was out of the country half the time and doing security for a sex club on the other side of London a lot of the rest. She didn't say that she wouldn't ask because it felt like she finally had her childhood friend back the past couple of months, getting drinks with him after the club closed or hanging around security keeping him company on quiet nights, and honestly his friendship was a worthy trade when she knew he didn't love her the way she loved him. But she couldn't pretend his words didn't sting, because they did.

"No,” Colin insisted. "I—after the class today, once you're done, let me buy you a drink. Let me explain.”

For whatever reason, she had agreed. They'd gone to their usual haunt, Mondrich’s, which stayed open late, past the club’s closing. And Penelope had heard Colin out as he explained his rule, about the club, but also because Bertie and James were just ridiculous gossips.

“These finance bros just think with their dicks and nothing else in that club, unfortunately. Their hearts are in the right place, I think, they're just really bloody nosy and a bit dismissive about why I want to keep this one thing in my life professional."

“It's not like you're guarding a gentlemen's club, Colin," Penelope pointed out. Then she added hastily, “I don't mean—all I'm saying is that you don't need to have that rule for yourself arbitrarily. It's not like Tilley is the type to take issue with you dating the clientele.” Penelope wanted to tack on something about how she wasn't referring to herself or implying anything, but she stopped herself. As she said already, it wasn't like she had asked him to fuck her. She already knew her answer to that one.

Gripping his whisky, Colin leaned forward slightly. “Dating? My God, no, Pen, I hardly have time for my family as it is. I don't have space in my life for a girlfriend. Besides, no one would trust me as security if I slept with the clientele. I'm not gonna fuck things up just for a roll in the hay.”

Penelope tried not to sound disappointed as she huffed a sigh. But then again, it wasn't like she ever truly had a shot.

It took her by surprise, therefore, that suddenly his hand was covering hers. "I am really sorry, though. I shouldn't have said it the way I did. They were being weird about it and then I got weird about it and I—you know, Pen, any guy, or girl, would be lucky to have you—"

“Enough with the pity party, Colin," Penelope had said, tugging her hand away and folding her arms. “We've known each other way too long for that."

He had smiled then and sipped at his whisky.

“Fair. Anyway, I'm sure you've found someone at the club by now. I wouldn't dream of getting in the middle of—”

"No,” she interrupted, and Colin raised his eyebrows, sitting back on his stool and leaning on the bar. "Well, not since Alfie. And we didn't really work out.”

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I haven't seen him for a while. I heard a rumour that he decided to give up domming to go to Antarctica or something.”

“It's to save some rare kind of bird, he said," Penelope told him, trying to keep a straight face and not quite managing it. There was a twinkle in Colin's eyes that made it harder for her and she relented, giggling. "Don't give me that look. He was handsome at least.”

"Eh, I suppose. But I didn't know you and he were…”

For the first time that night, Penelope flushed a little. "We did. For a while. We kept it on the down low, I guess. It was okay."

Something burned in Colin's eyes. "’Okay’ doesn't mean ‘good’. Or ‘great’.”

"I learned a lot,” Penelope said. “And he was great with boundaries and all that. But beyond that… there wasn't as much of a spark, I guess."

“I get it."

"Still, if he hadn't decided to go as far away as fucking Antarctica I would have at least considered being around if he wanted a booty call.”

Colin scrunched his nose. “You can do better, Pen. I always got a weird vibe from him."

“It's the veganism, I bet?" Penelope teased.

She laughed as he groaned, holding up his hands. “I'm not judging, I swear, I just—"

“No, I feel that. He didn't like it when I would order anything that wasn't plant based at dinner. Always made me nervous when I wanted cheesecake. Or good old cow's milk in my coffee. But needs must and all that, right?"

This time when Penelope met Colin's eyes, he had this unreadable expression on his face, but even then he couldn't hide his frown.

Then Penelope sighed, getting to her feet, draining her glass. “Anyway,” she said, "thanks for the drink, Colin.”

He got up too, grabbing her coat for her and helping her into it without asking—and she didn't mind. She smiled, actually, especially when he swept her hair out from under the fur collar, enjoying the warmth of his fingers brushing against the skin of her collarbone as he fiddled unnecessarily with her hair. She could enjoy this, right? Something innocent between friends?

“Let me get you an Uber,” Colin said, and Penelope was already shaking her head but he had already gotten his phone out. "It's late. I insist."

“Thank you," Penelope said. “Such a gentleman, Colin. Just a fucking shame that you….” But she trailed off, and maybe she was just drunk because her hand found its way to his chest—and there was something satisfying about how that made him freeze. Before her senses kicked in, that was, and her eyes widened and she tried to move her hand away, only for Colin to cover her hand with his own and hold it there firmly.

"Finish your thought, Pen,” he murmured. "Just a fucking shame that I… what?"

“Never mind," Penelope mumbled, trying again to tug her hand away, and Colin let her, only to gently tilt her chin up a little with his thumb, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"Let me tell you one thing before you go. Uber’s a few minutes away.”

"Mm?” she squeaked.

"This rule of mine,” he said quietly, "it doesn't really apply with us.”

Us. Penelope swallowed thickly, her breath catching in her throat.

"Wh–why not?”

"Because I don't know you through the club. At least… that's not how we met. I've known you since we were kids. Different thing altogether."

“Oh?”

What was happening to her? She wasn't drunk. She had had two glasses of wine. Surely she was capable of more than monosyllables?

"Yeah,” Colin whispered, and suddenly his hand was on her cheek. "Besides… maybe I just want you to have something better than ‘okay’."

“That wasn't meant to be a challenge,” Penelope said breathlessly, and he grinned.

“Come on, Pen. You're practically a Bridgerton yourself. You know how we don't like to lose.”

It hadn't taken much persuading for Penelope to agree to Colin coming back to her place, but in the morning she slipped out of bed, concluded it was a one night stand that wouldn't mean anything and wouldn't wreck their friendship in a rehearsed speech with Colin still in her bed. After all, Colin was hardly available when he was travelling all the time, and Penelope treasured her friendship with virtually every Bridgerton far too much to let it go to risk throwing everything in and throwing herself at the man she'd held a torch for since they first met as children. He had said so himself that he wasn’t the dating kind. Something had flashed in Colin's eyes as he dressed that morning, something surprisingly steady, as he agreed and left without breakfast.

And Penelope had thought that was that.

She had tried to stay away after that first time. She really had. Even though the sex was amazing and so much more than okay—blowing Alfie Debling and all her previous partners out of the fucking water. But Eloise had blown up her phone after the first week of radio silence, closely followed by Daphne and Francesca and even Hyacinth—and once Anthony had stumbled across her in Tesco and had made an offhand comment about not seeing her at Sunday dinner for some time, she figured it was time. And after Colin had greeted her warmly like nothing had happened and insisted on sitting next to her so he could be the one passing her the last Yorkshire pudding the next Sunday… Penelope couldn't help but fucking melt. She was hopeless from then. Or maybe she's always been hopeless for him.

Maybe that's why she chooses to broach the subject with him now.

“Colin?"

“Yeah, sweeth– Pen?"

She laughs at his slip of tongue, wanting to make a crack at how she's not so sweet after how she asked him to pound into her until she was sore—but she knows her laugh is masking how she truly feels. The rules are to protect her, because Penelope knows this will never last, not in the long run. Colin's never resented them, or if he does, he hides it well.

Colin lifts her chin up to face him, his eyes burning blue and she's temporarily mesmerised, gazing up at him, unable to resist kissing him. He relaxed instantly into the kiss, and the tension she can feel in him dissipates.

"What is it, Pen?" he asks hoarsely.

“Have you…” But she hesitates. "Do you…"

“Hey," Colin says softly, touching her cheek with something that could almost be mistaken as tenderness. It's too much, and she moves her cheek just a centimetre, but that's enough for Colin to get the message and his hand falls away. “You can ask me anything," he says regardless, and damn him, she loves him so much in this moment that it feels unbearable.

“Have you heard of subspace?” Penelope finally blurts out.

It takes him by surprise. "Uh, yeah, Pen. Of course. Never seen it for myself. But I'm familiar. Why? Did Alfie ever get you there?”

Penelope laughed again, outwardly nervous this time.

“No, definitely not, Colin. But I talked to Gen about it. Siena, too. And maybe Tilley as well? I thought it was a myth at first.”

“I don't think it is," Colin says thoughtfully. “It’s got a scientific basis to it—cortisol, adrenaline—"

“Endorphins, oxytocin," Penelope adds. "Yeah. Sounds like it's all chemicals. I know. I looked into it." 

"Very studious of you, Pen. But where's this going?" 

"Even though you've never seen it," she says, taking a deep breath, "do you think you'd know how to get someone into that mindset?"

"Theoretically, sure. It's just a matter of... y'know..."

"Please don't say 'figuring out what makes me tick'. I read that one somewhere."

He smiles a little at that and shakes his head. "No. It's more about establishing trust first, and then being comfortable in vulnerability enough for your dom to push you to your limits, whether it's through impact play, or bondage, whatever floats your boat. I mean, it's not easy. But I'd know how to, I think." 

Colin pauses and frowns, looking at Penelope in askance, waiting for her answer to his silent question as he raises his eyebrows. "Okay," she says nervously, "that's good to know. Really good to know, Colin. I guess you're wondering why I asked you about subspace in the first place. And I'm just wondering about… if you… if you'd be up for getting me there?" Her voice gets progressively high-pitched the more she speaks, but she sees it as a victory that she's gotten to the end of it.

Unless she's turned him off so completely that that's the end of them.

Shit, what if it is? What if Colin doesn't want to even try? What if she's making all this too clinical, talking about chemicals of all things?

"You… you want me to help you reach subspace?” Colin repeats slowly.

Penelope sits up in the bed, dragging the duvet with her to cover herself as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed, revealing his naked form. Even in her uncertainty she can't help but admire his body, how comfortable he is just like this, in her bed. She can't look at him, though, not in his eyes. Not when she can feel them boring into the small of her back.

"Do you think it's stupid?” she asks in a small voice.

Immediately the bedsprings groan and the sheets rustle as Colin moves to sit next to her, his hand on her bare shoulder.

“I could never think you're stupid," he tells her earnestly. “You're the smartest person I know, Pen."

“I'm twenty-five and still in an entry-level job," she says miserably.

“In a prestigious publishing house where you're gonna make a name for yourself," Colin reminds her. “And you are smart. Why else would we be having this sexy conversation about oxytocin and hormones?"

She laughs properly this time. “You think that's a sexy conversation?”

"I think your sheer level of intelligence is one of the hottest things about you,” Colin tells her, and she can feel the heat of the blush in her cheeks. Coming from some other people, she would take that as a backhanded compliment, because she knows she's not as beautiful as most women her age—but it's Colin. And he isn't like that.

Still, she opens her mouth to argue, and he silences her with a bruising kiss that leaves her gasping.

“One of these days you're gonna take a compliment instead of putting yourself down," he says as he leans his forehead against hers, his hand snaking into her hair. His other hand moves so it's between her thighs, humming approvingly as his fingers meet her slick, wet heat.

"Mmm, Colin,” she whimpers, shuddering when he thumbs her clit.

“Sweetheart," he breathes, and she wants to laugh again, because he's not breaking her rule now, if they're going for another round.

“Yes, Colin?"

“Why do you want to get to subspace?"

“Because," she whispers, moaning as he breaches her with two thick fingers, “I asked Alfie and he—”

Colin cuts her off with another kiss, thrusting his tongue forcefully in her mouth and making her swallow the rest of her words, keening as at the same time he curls his fingers inside her.

“Don't say his name," he growls. “You don't get to say anyone's name but mine. That's my new rule.”

"I'm sorry,” she cries. "I—I won't do it again, I'm sorry, Colin.”

"Answer my question. Without mentioning him.”

It's impossible when Colin still has his fingers inside her, even more so when he doesn't move them, just keeps them there with his thumb pressed firmly on her throbbing clit. It's thrilling, seeing this glorious, darker side to Colin, the side of him that she never knew existed before they started sleeping together. She wants to coax more and more of him out, so she can surrender to the vice grip of his every touch and kiss.

“I asked,” Penelope says breathlessly. “The person I was with said no. Said something about how I didn't trust him enough. That even when he was giving me aftercare I still had my walls up."

"He's right,” Colin says, surprising them both. Penelope tries to shift her hips but he stops her, his fingers leaving her pussy with a slick wet sound so he can hold her still, and she moans in protest. “You have walls up with me too, Pen. Even when I'm inside you. Even when you're screaming my name. You can't do that if you want to float away somewhere. You have to give me—”

"—everything," she says with more than a touch of desperation in her voice. “I'll give you everything. Tonight. For as long as it takes to get me there. All of me. If you do this for me."

He doesn't say anything at first, and she takes a deep breath, before covering his hand with her own much smaller one, guiding it back between her legs. "Please?” Penelope asks, in a higher voice than she anticipated. "Will you do this for me, Colin? As a friend?”

She moves her free hand to his cock, stroking it reverently, loving so much how he swells in her small palm so he's too thick for her to hold with just one hand. Maybe she's imagining the look of uncertainty in his eyes, the groan he emits is surely one of pleasure, she's done this for him so many times at this point. Slowly she thumbs at the precum pearling at his slit and brings it to her mouth, waiting for his eyes to settle on her as she parts her lips and sucks. Of her own accord she moans in pleasure in tandem with him, because she loves how he tastes, she wonders sometimes if she could get to subspace through oral alone, if he lets her.

"Colin?" she says uncertainly as he continues to regard her intently, hungrily, fervently.

“As a friend?" he repeats at last, his voice gravelly, and she doesn't expect him to stuff her with three fingers. She gasps at the intrusion, yet the glorious fullness she feels isn't the same as the one she craves. Penelope nods.

“We're friends, right?" she gasps, then her eyes roll back as he starts to thrust deeper inside her with his fingers, stretching her open for him.

“Yeah," Colin says casually like he's not fingerfucking her into oblivion right now. It's bliss, letting go like this, as Colin arranges her carefully on the bed, keeping his fingers inside her. “Lie down, Pen."

“Colin," she murmurs, "is that a yes?"

In answer Colin settles between her open legs, fucking her with his fingers as his mouth finds her breasts, alternating between them with increasingly biting kisses. Her nipples redden quickly, swollen and kiss-bitten, and she knows in the morning her tits will be covered in bruises that she’ll cherish and mourn when they fade. Every time she's about to tip over the edge, Colin withdraws and starts again, and it's the most exquisite fucking form of torture she's ever faced.

“Colin!" she cries, just as he fucks her knuckle deep with his fingers, teasing her g-spot so deliciously that she's sure she might just combust on the spot.

"We're gonna change the rules,” he says roughly. "If you want this. I'm gonna call you sweetheart whenever I want.”

"Not—not in front of your family,” she manages to say. "Anywhere else is fine.”

"I can do that,” Colin says, pumping into her more lazily now, and it's fucking killing her because she can't move, not with his other hand holding her still across her waist.

"I want you to stay over,” Penelope says, surprising herself with this one. "Wanna wake you up every morning you're here sucking you off."

His sharp intake of breath is unmistakable, but after a moment he says, “That's not gonna get you to subspace, Pen. Not on its own.”

"I know,” Penelope says. “But it'll get me in the right mindset. And I want to. I want to so much.”

“What if I wake up first?" Colin says, and she can feel his swollen member digging into her thigh aching for her attention, but she doesn't dare touch him without permission.

“Then I can wake up with you inside me,” she says without even skipping a beat. “Wherever you want."

“You want me to wake you up with my cock in your mouth?”

“Please," she begs. The thought of it makes her mouth water uncontrollably and she actually starts to drool. She doesn't expect him to kiss her then, fucking her a little faster, a string of saliva separating their mouths as they break apart. "And I want to swallow you down every time. Will you let me do that?"

"You want that, Pen?”

"I want it so bad."

“You wanna eat my cum that much?"

“I'll clean you up every time," she promises. "Don't want to waste a drop.” She feels insane saying this all aloud, because most of their encounters have been more fucking, less talking. And she would never dream of saying these things to Alfie. But from the wild look on Colin's handsome face, it doesn't seem to freak him out.

“Every time?"

“Yes."

“What if what I want first thing in the morning is to bury myself in your cunt? And wake you up like that?”

"As long as I'm awake by the time you finish inside me,” Penelope says. “I don't even need to come. Just need to wake up filled with your cum. Please, Colin?"

That's one of Colin's rules. Condoms always. But Penelope has been aching to feel him release inside her since they first hooked up.

"You don't want to use condoms? But—”

"I started birth control a while ago,” she tells him. “And I know we're both clean. Will you come inside me from now on?"

It takes her aback, even in the haze of her almost-orgasm, that he growls at her words, finally fucking her faster, harder, with his fingers. It only takes a couple swipes at her clit for her to be tipped right over the edge, her moans ripped from her throat as her body feels like it's going to explode. And Colin's impatient, too, not even letting her really come down before his cock replaces his fingers, notching at her entrance before plunging into her with no warning.

"Fuck, Colin—"

“How does that feel, Pen?”

"You're so big,” Penelope moans, "you feel even bigger like this, fucking me raw—”

"Next time,” he groans, lifting her legs up so they're folded into her chest, "you'll get on your hands and knees like a good girl and I'll fuck you so deep you won't be able to sit down for a week.”

"Please,” she cries. "Please, Colin—”

"What are you begging me for, sweetheart?”

"Will you come inside me, Colin? Please?”

"Not until you've come again,” Colin says roughly.

"I don't think I can—”

"C'mon, Pen, how many times have I told you that you should know better than to issue a challenge to a Bridgerton?"

And he reaches between them, thumb attacking her oversensitive clit in hard circles, making her throw her head back from the overstimulation and come so hard her vision blurs, and all she can make out is how Colin is pounding into her body limp from orgasm like a ragdoll.

"Colin,” she says dreamily as he splits her open with his thick cock, "Colin, Colin—”

"That's it, sweetheart, you're not going to say any name except mine when I'm inside you—"

“I'm sorry, Colin, I'll never do it again, please, I just want to feel your cum, I need it, I need you, please please please—"

With a groan, Colin empties himself inside her so her pussy is a sopping, dripping mess, overflowing with his release after clearly staving it off for a while. His face remains buried in her neck, his words unintelligible as he collapses on top of her, and his warm weight feels so comforting as slowly but surely he gets his breath back. Penelope still feels like she's on a high, even more certain now that Colin is the right person for this.

When after a while he moves off her, she's not sure why she decides to kiss him. She starts at his lips, then his neck, caressing the hair on his chest as her mouth continues its descent down to his abdomen. He's stroking her hair as she does so, his breathing more even but then quickening as she kisses his thigh, her tongue darting out to lick at his skin. She glances up at him, holding his gaze as she licks up the remnants of his release, reverently kissing the generous bulge of his now softened cock, doing the same for his balls, sucking at them in turn, all the while keeping her eyes on him. The intimacy of it is so startling that she jolts slightly when he speaks.

“Good girl," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in her hair. "You weren't kidding, huh?”

"Not about this,” she says, resting her head on his bare chest. "I'm serious about this.”

“I can tell, darling."

She can't help but preen at the endearment where once she might have flinched—but she also knows this won't be forever. That's the nature of their arrangement.

"I wanna show you there's no walls between us, Colin. Not when I know where you can take me.”

“Pen…”

“So… will you, Colin? Will you get me to subspace?”

“You have to understand what this means, Pen," Colin tells her as he caresses her shoulder blades, her back. "It's not easy getting there. I'll have to push your limits. With new things. And you have to be okay with that.”

"I am,” Penelope says quickly.

“You have to tell me what's too much. And you've got to be okay with me taking care of you afterwards, too. No walls then either. That's my rule in all this, Pen. You have to trust me completely. Because you'd be in an altered state in subspace. You can't consent to new things then. And you have to let me help you come down from that so you don't crash."

“I trust you," she tells him, and somehow it's easier saying this when she isn't looking him in the eye—though even like this, it's harder to say aloud than all the dirty things she uttered to him minutes before. “You're my friend, Colin. I'd trust you with my life."

He's silent for a moment and she can practically hear him thinking.

"This isn't the same as me being rough with you when you ask, Pen. You have to understand that. Or even having a certain dynamic—”

"I know,” she interrupts. "It'll be you tying me up, or blindfolding me, or gagging me, or—”

"We're gonna do this properly," Colin says firmly. "We'll both do a list tomorrow. Hard and soft limits. You have to be honest, Pen. Don't go along with something you're terrified of unless you really want to try it.”

She nods. She did something similar with Alfie, but she decides not to say this aloud. Penelope's already shared some of these with Colin—no sex on her period, no threesomes, and while she's not opposed to anal, she's never tried it and doesn't know how it will feel. Colin's never pushed any of those, but she knows him. She trusts him.

"I'm gonna be in London the next couple weeks. Then I have an assignment in Argentina. So if you want this to happen before I go away again… we have a pretty small window.”

“You mean you wanna start tomorrow?" Penelope asks. It's a Friday night, so they'd have the weekend. Maybe even skip out on Sunday dinner if she's lucky.

Only now does she look up at Colin and meet his eyes, and it's a relief to see the familiar sparkle of mischief there. “Do you want that badly to wake me up with a blowjob, Pen?"

“I've always wanted to wake you up with a blowjob," she blurts out without thinking, and thankfully he laughs, either not getting that she means this from when she was sixteen years old or maybe being too chuffed at the thought of it to question her. Perhaps her next words are more deliberate, to distract from the implication that she's been in love with him since forever. "Alfie was the one to teach me—"

“Fuck Alfie," Colin cuts across. “He's all the way in Antarctica now. His dick is probably gonna stay cold the whole time."

Wow, Penelope thinks, making to get up, looking for her robe. Is he really jealous, or is this just part of their game?

“He wasn't that bad," she reasons. “Like I said, I learned a lot from him."

“There are better teachers out there," Colin says dismissively. “Ones that won't—"

Only then he cuts himself off abruptly, and Penelope pretends not to notice as she finally locates her robe, strewn on the floor. She bends down to pick it up, but before she can put it on, Colin grabs her wrist.

“Leave it off," he murmurs. “Just for a bit. Stand up so I can see you dripping with my cum."

It does everything for her, getting orders from him. Still, she's nervous as she gets up, naked, barely resisting the urge to cover up her bare breasts, her nipples that immediately stand to attention in the slightly cooler air. This is part of it, she knows that, the testing of limits that Colin mentioned. And she can feel where her thighs are sticky and wet from his release, unable to resist dipping her fingers between them and bringing them to her lips. Colin sits up in the bed, swinging his legs over the edge as he copies her, swiping his fingers more roughly into her pussy this time and then shoving them into her mouth. Penelope sucks willingly, holding his hand there so she can lick each of his fingers and suck them clean.

“Did he ever tell you you're beautiful?" Colin asks softly.

“Alfie?" Penelope says, and she bites back a smile at how incensed Colin looks as she utters his name. She's trying to remember what their interactions were like in the club, but she genuinely can't recall anything that explains why Colin is so savage about him. “He said I was his pretty girl once."

“Once?" Colin scoffs. “My God."

“I'd rather he didn't say things he didn't mean," Penelope says, but Colin shakes his head.

“But you are beautiful, Pen."

“You don't have to—"

“Don't argue with me," he says in that gravelly voice of his that brooks no room for argument. “Get on your knees, beautiful girl." She obeys without a word, her heart hammering wildly in anticipation. “Practice run. You remember your safeword when your mouth is occupied?"

She nods and demonstrates, pinching his thigh twice.

“Good girl," Colin says, slapping her hands away when she tries to touch his half-hard cock. “No hands, sweetheart. Use your mouth only. This isn't about getting me off. It's about clearing your mind and letting go.”

So with him clasping her hands, trapped on his bare thighs, Penelope takes her time, enveloping the head of his cock with her mouth. She licks the length of the prominent vein bulging on the underside and drops soft kisses on his member that grows and hardens with every caress of her lips. Then Penelope looks up at Colin, awaiting instruction.

"Is that making you feel as good as I do, darling?" Colin asks as he strokes her cheeks lazily and tilts her chin up towards him.

“Yes," she whispers back. “Taking my time with you, that makes me feel… calm and grounded."

"Take as much of me in your mouth as you can. Not all the way to your throat, not yet, I know you're so good at that."

Obediently she does as she's told, managing to fit a little bit more than half of him in her mouth comfortably. She tries to lick at him but he slows her, cupping her cheek.

“Take your time with this too," he tells her. “Keep your eyes on me, focus on how it feels to have my cock resting heavy on your tongue. I can see you drooling, that's okay, that's actually hot as hell, Pen. No, keep your hands where I can hold them, don't move. Good girl. Beautiful girl. You should be told this all the time, by the way, because you fucking are. You're so beautiful, just like this, on your knees, and you let me see your beautiful cunt too, all pink and puffy and oozing my cum. If you told me sooner you wanted to go without condoms I would have been spilling inside you weeks ago, sweetheart.”

She moans uncontrollably at that, but Colin's undeterred, grounding her even as she starts sucking desperately on his cock.

"D'you like it when I talk to you like this? Don't close your eyes, Pen, I want you to look at me when I'm talking to you.”

Her eyes are watering as she takes him a little deeper, barely able to keep them open. Somewhere in between him talking, she started feeling floaty, like the high of an orgasm but different too. She's never felt like this before.

"I know, I know, Pen, you don't have to take me this deep if you don't want—okay, I can fuck you harder if you like? Do you want me to fuck your throat?”

She nods around his cock, about to take her mouth off him, but then his hand moves to the back of her head and forces her deeper onto his member so she can feel the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat. Penelope gags at that but forces herself to relax, swallowing her own whimpers as she swallows around his cock, eliciting a groan from him. “You okay, Pen?" he asks. She nods again, and as if to prove it to him she bobs her head forward to deepthroat him, her nose colliding with his pubic hair.

"That's it, this is what you want, right, sweetheart? You're so good, taking all of me like this, like your throat was made to choke on me, like your pretty little lips were made to wrap around my cock, maybe next time we can do this in front of the mirror so you can see yourself, my beautiful girl. I want you to let go, okay, and just take it, swallow me down like you promised, sweetheart, that's it, tip your head back for me—”

Penelope drinks him down, relishing in the salty taste of his cum that lingers on her tongue and coats her throat as she gasps from the force of it, from the most intense blowjob of her life. She hasn't come, but she feels like she has, barely arguing with Colin as he lifts her off her feet and deposits her on her bed.

“How do you feel?" he asks quietly.

“Floaty," she says honestly. “Amazing. And really wet."

“Come down from this first," Colin says. “I'll clean you up. I'm not gonna push you too hard, Pen.”

"I want you to,” Penelope says with a pout, not expecting him to smile.

"This only works if we take it slow and you listen to me. And if you trust me. You trust me, don't you, sweetheart?”

“Of course I do, Colin. You're my friend. My best friend."

She closes her eyes now, and before she knows it Colin's got a warm wet washcloth with him, cleaning her between her legs, murmuring quiet words to her. And she hasn't come, but she's so sleepy that the ache in her pussy peters out as she rests her head on Colin's bare chest.

For only the second time in her life, Penelope falls asleep in Colin Bridgerton’s arms.

And the next morning, for the first time, she wakes him up exactly as promised: with her mouth on his cock.

Chapter Text

Penelope wakes up feeling… different. 

The last time she fell asleep with Colin was months and months ago, the first time they slept together. She had blamed the whole thing on alcohol, even though neither of them were exactly drunk at the time, because why else would Colin want her like that? Or ever again? Considering what she had overheard him say about the impossibility of them being together… her incredulity made sense. At least when she woke up sober. Less so when she'd had a couple and made what could only possibly be a big mistake sleeping with Colin Bridgerton of all people.

Honestly, she had been relieved when she woke up before him that first time, enough to extricate herself from his long, naked limbs and shower and put on fresh clothes and work out what to say to Colin when he woke up so he knew it was a one-time thing. There was no way she could have ever predicted that this would ever happen again, let alone what their arrangement would be after that—Colin coming to hers after whatever assignment he'd been given abroad, the two of them falling into something that now feels… well, mostly normal for them. 

Sure, there are moments where things feel a little tense. Like when Colin would get up to leave her bed, pulling his clothes back on, after using her bathroom to clean up. Usually Penelope would feign sleep, rather than outright kicking him out, so he wouldn't normally say goodbye. It's easier that way. But the tension’s the worst when a rule is bent or broken, lingering in what is unsaid between them. Mostly it’s the one about pet names, and Penelope can't really blame Colin for that—he’s always been an affectionate person. And she can't deny she enjoys it immensely during sex. But afterwards… it feels too much like the illusion of a relationship, one that neither of them can have yet also the one that she has always dreamed of, and it's not worth getting her hopes up. 

Now that's changed, though, with this new rule of his, and she wonders as she opens her eyes and stifles her yawn with her hand whether Colin will take to calling her ‘sweetheart’ even when they're in her kitchen together, or texting, or headed to the club. It'll be difficult for her to object to it, not when she'd agreed yesterday—but she was the one to open this door. Not him. 

Her mind quiets a bit when her eyes fall on him, though, filling her with a warmth that she can feel deep in her belly, tugging inside her and settling as a firm ache between her legs. He's still asleep, one arm draped loosely around her waist, breathing deeply with a soft smile on his lips. Carefully, she lifts his arm off her and crawls down his body, peeling off the duvet, grateful at least that he sleeps naked. She takes in the sight of his body, toned abs, strong biceps, hair mussed from sleep like he's tossed and turned a few times. She never got to do this properly the first time he stayed over and now she wants to take her time and admire him to the fullest without being embarrassed. She's delighted to find his cock is half-hard already, and she starts by gently grasping him at the base, kissing his sensitive tip, revelling in how she can feel him twitch to attention as she does so. Penelope does so again, just kissing the head of his cock before she's unable to resist enveloping him with her mouth, licking up his precum where it's leaked onto her fingertips. A fresh surge of arousal settles in her aching pussy when he groans softly, and she wants to reach down to touch herself when she remembers Colin's words from last night.

This isn't about getting me off. It's about clearing your mind and letting go.

Sighing around his now swollen and rapidly hardening cock, she keeps her hands where they are, wrapped around his thick girth, her mouth taking in as much of him as she can. She doesn't deepthroat him, she'll do that when he wakes. For now, she feels content, calm, soothed, even, slowly and steadily sucking Colin Bridgerton's cock to her heart's content, tasting his precum as it gently pools on her tongue. 

She can feel the drool leaking from the corners of her mouth as well, and she fights the instinct to wipe it away, because her hands are exactly where they're supposed to be: stroking his shaft, caressing his balls, squeezing them as his cock twitches and throbs on her tongue. Colin's surprisingly responsive in sleep, moaning but still breathing deeply, his lips upturning into a smile as unbeknownst to him, his cock is sinking deeper into the warm, wet heat of Penelope's mouth. It doesn't matter that this is far from the first time she's sucked him off, because in the stillness of the morning it feels like the first time she's truly his. And she knows it's not real, that it won't last, that this is a means to an end she asked for—but she can enjoy this glorious waking dream while he's sleeping because perhaps sleep is the only time she might find the Colin who would love her. Right here, right now is the golden hour where she belongs utterly to him and no one else, never anyone else. The thought of that makes her whimper around his cock, and perhaps that's what wakes him up.

Penelope keeps her eyes open and fixed on his, gazing up at him as Colin slowly starts to wake from his slumber. He looks down, the position they're in dawning on him as he reaches for her sodden cheeks and caresses them gently, smiling that beautiful smile of his. And after last night she didn't think she could look him in the eyes after the things she had said—yet here she is, waking him up exactly as she promised him she would, regarding him with pure, unadulterated adoration.

“God, Pen, did you seriously mean it when you said you'd wake me up like this every morning I'm here?" Colin says in something that sounds like awe. She just nods and starts lapping at him more vigorously with her tongue, vaguely aware that her jaw has begun to ache a bit and her face is sopping with her own spit. But she's not going to stop, not until he comes. Not until she makes him come.

“You look so perfect with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart. How long have you been down there? Ten minutes? Twenty?" 

Finally Penelope takes her mouth off his cock with a slick pop, wiping away what she can of the drool with the back of her hand. It's impossible for her not to admire his length as she releases it, glistening with her saliva, thick and long and ridged. “More like thirty. Makes me feel so good, Colin.”

“Calms you down, huh?” Colin asks as he fists his cock a couple times, but he pauses when she covers his wrist with her fingers, letting her fingertips flutter on his pulse point. He lets her lift his hand to her lips so she can kiss his fingers, while her free hand closes around the base of his cock as best she can.

“Yeah," she says breathlessly. “I usually feel so antsy first thing in the morning. But I don't today because of how I started off. Will you let me, please?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ask me properly, sweetheart. Remember where you want to get to." 

Perhaps he expects her to hesitate, because they don't usually talk this much in bed, but she doesn't. She forces herself to meet his gaze and the words spill wetly from her tongue, even more aware of the painful ache in her pussy intensifying as she does so. “Please can I suck your cock, Colin? So I can taste your cum again? Need to swallow you down so bad." 

She's being needier than usual, her voice an octave higher than normal, and he can clearly sense it, but if he asks, it's because of this subspace thing, not anything else. 

“You want it that bad, sweetheart?" 

"Please?” she begs, her mouth still watering, her eyes wide. "I promise I'll make it good. I like making it good for you, Colin.”

Colin's definitely affected by it because he groans first, then nods but shifts a bit, so he's sitting up with his back against the headboard. Colin leans forward and kisses her lips, taking her by surprise, his tongue tangling with hers. It's a messy kiss, and Penelope's jaw is slack and wet and aching but she welcomes it, welcomes how he claims her mouth with his own as she starts to jerk him off. She'd once contemplated banning kisses on the mouth to her list of rules—only after the first time she got to have Colin Bridgerton's tongue in her mouth she knew she could never go back. 

“‘S’long as I get to taste your pussy afterwards," he says hoarsely. "Been too long.”

She did kind of hog him all night last night, so he's not wrong. It's been about a month since he went down on her when he was last here—yesterday was the first time they saw each other since then, and she just wanted to be fucked and fucked by him, his cock or fingers. When she says this aloud he laughs, settling back against the pillows.

“Hey, it's not like I'm gonna complain about it, Pen. Not when I get to hear you scream like you did last night." 

Beaming and blushing all at once, Penelope returns her attention to the blowjob she promised him. His cock is swollen and full and leaking and feels gloriously heavy in her palm as she caresses it sweetly a few more times, before she takes him in her mouth, and this time she doesn't stop until she can feel him thrusting in her throat. 

“That's it, sweetheart, look at you," he says softly as he fucks her shallow at first. “Taking me so well first thing like this. I like this rule. And you look gorgeous in the morning, your hair all messy and golden red in the sunlight, your eyes so soft. Yes, sweetheart, don't close your eyes, I want you to keep your eyes on me, do you think you can go a little deeper, Pen? Yeah, swallow around me just like that, that feels so good, Pen, good girl. No, take your time. I have time for you, sweetheart, I have all the time in the world for you if you're gonna wake me up like this." 

She pulls off him again, breathless and whimpering, leaving a trail of spit in her wake, and she lets out a soft gasp when Colin reaches out, tracing her lips with his fingers. Her mouth is clearly cock-swollen and probably shiny with saliva and reddened from just how long she's been sucking his cock, yet there's something reverent in his gaze. Like he truly sees something she doesn't.

"See?” he says. "Gorgeous.”

Somehow his praise is the thing that makes her flush, not where her mouth has been and will be returning to momentarily, nor the filthy words she utters next, and she can feel the heat of it on her cheeks and down her neck and at the top of her tits. Penelope feels shy the longer she looks at him, but she can't look away. And she can't help herself either.

"Will you help me take you deeper, Colin? Wanna feel your cock all the way in my throat. Like you did yesterday. Please?”

This time Colin doesn't hesitate. "Yes, darling, of course I will." 

She takes a deep breath and encloses his member with her lips, goes as far as she can, relaxing as his cock hits the back of her throat after gagging only a little. His hands are tangling in her hair, his grip tightening as he lets out a low groan.

"That feels so good, sweetheart. But you can go a bit more, you deserve to feel me deeper in your throat, just let me help you—” 

Her eyes close automatically when he tugs at her hair to bring her closer, so she can lave at the base of his cock with her tongue in earnest, her nose brushing against his pubic hair each time and now Colin's the one firmly in control and she gets to surrender. She would scream from the pleasure of it if she could, but all she can do is swallow and swallow and swallow at his cock thrusting deeply again and again, all the way down her throat as her eyes water from the impact and her jaw is aching and dripping with her spit. She wants nothing more than to taste his salty, slightly bitter release, to gulp it down for him, for Colin to stroke her hair and praise her, even if she feels like a mess and probably looks it too. And then to her delight, Colin's there, she moans as he brings his cock back to her mouth with a low groan, spilling his pleasure onto her tongue for her to lap up and swallow greedily, not stopping until she licks up the last drop of his seed from his spent cock and finally letting him slip out from her lips.

“Good girl," he murmurs. “Just like you promised, huh?"  

Penelope gazes up at him, almost tremulous in restrained pleasure. She's aching to touch herself, to soothe the painful need of her own between her legs, but she won't. Colin's stroking her hair, lifting her so she's sitting upright, reaching across to the bedside cabinet where thankfully there's a glass of water. He lifts the glass and she reaches for it, but Colin shakes his head.

“Let me," he says softly, and she obediently tips her head back slightly, drinking from the glass, grateful for the cool liquid soothing her throat. She finishes all of it, thanking him, watching as he sets the glass down and kisses her. Penelope kisses him back pretty sloppily, still out of breath and her throat feeling fucked raw, but Colin doesn't seem to care.  

It's only as he lifts her easily and flips her over on the bed so she's on her back that Penelope realises just how wet she is, to the point of leaking onto her inner thighs. Involuntarily her walls clench at the thought and she has to take several deep breaths to calm herself. She waits for Colin to settle himself between her thighs, spreading her legs and regarding her sopping pussy hungrily like he's looking at his next meal. 

“So wet for me, Pen," he murmurs. "You're dripping all over my fingers.”

"Because of you,” she tells him. "I made sure not to touch myself the whole time I was sucking your cock, Colin.”

She keens as Colin enters her with two fingers—they slide easily inside her, that's how aroused and slippery she is. 

"Why not, sweetheart?”

"I remembered what you said last night. About clearing my mind. About how it's not just about getting you or me off. Though I do enjoy getting you off—fuck, fuck, Colin, oh my God, yes." His mouth latches onto her clit as she's speaking, while at the same time a third finger penetrates her. “Got so wet for you with your cock in my mouth, Colin, I thought I might come just from that—God, please don't stop, Colin, I need you so much, your mouth feels so good, no, please—" 

She whines in protest when he withdraws his fingers, but a second later his tongue is at her entrance, licking into her pussy with wild abandon. He's so good at eating her out, especially when his hands wander like they are now, one of them reaching up to tug hard at her sensitive nipple. Penelope can't resist holding his other hand in her own, pressing her lips to his fingers, still wet from her own slick, and on instinct she leans forward so she can suck on his fingers just before he sucks on her clit.

She screams.

Really, she often struggles with Colin going down on her. Or anyone, really. For Colin it's not because he's bad at it, just the opposite. Colin eats her out like he does it professionally, unlike most of the other guys she's dated. He does it painstakingly and thoroughly and like he truly enjoys it, and he never fails to make her come at least twice from just that. But there's something especially, scarily intimate about her sexual partner—particularly Colin—having their face buried between her legs, able to see everything, every stretch mark on her thighs (and there's a fair few of them), the paunch of her stomach, every fucking ounce of fat in her thighs because it's not like they're toned or muscular. It's why she never let Alfie go down on her. Not that he was overly keen to begin with, admittedly. It's why she normally dims down the lights when she and Colin sleep together—and why him sleeping over isn't practical because it's harder to hide in the light of day. 

Yet right now it seems like Colin doesn't know about or can ignore all of that with surprising ease, continuing to coax moans and whimpers out of her that are muffled a little by his fingers in her mouth. With both his hands occupied, Colin eats her out like a man starved, until she starts to truly quake and buck her hips uncontrollably, unable to stop herself from arching upwards into his face. She can hear the rumble of his groan as he hums at her clit and tugs his hand from her mouth so he can rest it across her hips, holding her still. 

“Sorry," she says bashfully, but he shakes his head, lifting his face to her just enough so she can watch him wipe his mouth roughly with the back of his hand and meet her eyes.

“Don't you dare be sorry, Pen, sweetheart, just come for me, all right? You took me so well for so long this morning. You deserve a reward for that." 

Before she can say anything further he dives back in, this time parting her puffy lips with his fingers so he can lick into her deeper. She throws back her head and arches her back, and it's as three of his fingers sink into her and his mouth suctions on her clit that she comes hard with a scream that she doesn't bother to suppress, clutching onto the bedsheets.

“Colin," she cries reverently, moaning as Colin doesn't let her come down but instead fucks her through her orgasm and into another one. He switches, a thumb going in featherlight circles on her clit as he laps at Penelope's pussy with his tongue, all the while holding her still as she cries out and tries and fails to thrust her hips forward. "Colin, you're making me gonna come again—”

"That's it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, barely audible over her breathy moans and the slick sounds of his fingers fucking her all the way up to his knuckles, "you can come for me again, good girl, letting me start off my day tasting you, fucking you, best fucking Saturday morning I've had in a long time—” His fingers take on a harsh rhythm, penetrating her with precisely the force Penelope needs for another orgasm, just as she feels the curl of Colin's digits hitting her g-spot—

"Colin, Colin, Colin,” she utters desperately, an ardent prayer as she comes hard for him with a high-pitched keen, grateful when he covers her body with his own and kisses her. It's a messy tangle of tongues and lips and her own tart slick from Colin's mouth, and Penelope is well and truly out of breath when he pulls away, unable to stop gazing at him dreamily. “Thank you, Colin." 

Something flashes in his eyes for a moment at her words, or maybe she's imagining it, she doesn't know. Resting her head on his chest, she's glad for his strong, warm arms enveloping her, steadying her as she comes down from the high of her orgasm. They lie there in silence as Penelope's breathing slows and so does his, not counting the minutes, until she realises when glancing at her clock that twenty minutes have already passed. "You okay, sweetheart?”

"I've missed you,” Penelope says after a moment. 

“You mean you missed me going down on you," he says teasingly, and she wants to shake her head vehemently, wishes more than anything that she could sit up and declare her love for him once and for all. But there would be no coming back from that, and she's not going to take the risk when he could very well say he doesn't feel the same way. 

“That too," she says instead. “Listen, Colin, I—”

"Can I use your shower, Pen?” he asks, perhaps not meaning to interrupt, but in a way she's glad for it, before she says something stupid. Besides, she just remembered he was on a flight yesterday. Usually by this time he'd be home, not still in her bed. 

“Yeah," she says. "’Course. Extra towels are in the bathroom cabinet, help yourself.”

She watches as Colin gets up out of bed, pulling on his discarded jeans on the floor but not bothering with his shirt. He looks back at her as he's rummaging in his suitcase for his toiletries, smiling. “Thanks, darl– Pen. Sorry." 

Quickly Penelope shakes her head. "It's okay. Last night we said—”

“Last night we said a lot of things. But as far as kink negotiation goes, that was poor etiquette on my side. None of that stuff sticks. We're starting blank today.”

"Well, this part isn't a kink—" 

“Technically it could be. You definitely have a praise kink, Pen." 

Flushing a little, she cocks her head to one side slightly. "Don't we all sometimes?”

Colin surprises her with a grin. "You more than most, I think, sweetheart—Pen." 

“It's okay," she insists somewhat stubbornly. "I still meant what I said. As long as it's—”

"Yeah, I know," Colin says, and thankfully his smile is still there, which reassures her a little. "Not in front of my family. To be honest, I think Eloise might kill me if she knew I was sleeping with you, so it's probably in all of our interests to keep things to ourselves.”

"She might kill me first,” Penelope says sheepishly. "Seeing as how I broke bro code a long time ago." 

“Nah, she loves you more than she loves me,” Colin says, shrugging. "I wouldn't sweat it, sweetheart.”

This time the endearment rolls off his tongue, accepting her new terms, and he smiles and she can't help but smile back, even if it feels a bit strange and weirdly new, despite the fact that the actual utterance of the word isn't a novelty for either of them. She watches as he heads to the bathroom with his stuff and a bundle of clean clothes, and when the door shuts, Penelope glances around on the floor, looking for Colin's shirt. 

Once she finds it she puts it on, inhaling his musky scent. Another thing she's never been able to do before, and the likelihood is she won't be able to pin this one on wanting to be more submissive, so she takes it off after a few minutes, though not before taking a good look in the mirror with it on. For once, Penelope likes how she looks, the way his black shirt—with the three middle buttons done up and the rear draping loosely on her curves—reaches her knees and practically swamps her. More than anything she wishes she could keep it on all day, or that she would have the courage to wear it around her flat and wait for Colin to notice so he can fuck her in it. But such a wish is delusional, really.

In lieu of that, she snaps a quick couple of mirror selfies on her phone, reasoning that she'll probably delete them later when she's more awake.

Sighing, she takes off Colin's shirt and puts her robe on, settling back on the bed, turning off Do Not Disturb on her phone. She finds a barrage of notifications, including work texts (she groans inwardly at the one from her boss simply saying ‘I have an issue’ on a Friday fucking night), a couple from Eloise asking about Sunday dinner at Bridgerton House, some texts from Genevieve asking her about drinks. Groaning inwardly, Penelope hits the call button.

“Sacre bleu, Penelope Featherington, why are you calling me at fuck me o'clock?" 

Penelope just laughs, though. “Hello to you too, Gen. Sorry, I didn't realise—" she checks her watch “—ten-thirty on a Saturday was considered fuck me o'clock.” But then she giggles. "Though it kind of was for me? In an excellent way.”

"Oh really? Spill, then. Did you and Mystery Guy get it on last night? Is he who you ditched me for?”

"Yeah,” Penelope admits. "Sorry.”

“No, I'm glad you're getting some. Whoever he is. And he sounds like a good man." 

"It's not like that,” she says quickly. "We're just friends who fuck every once in a while. Nothing else to it. And the sex was great, Gen, oh my God, but that's all this is. Just sex.”

"Are you ever gonna bite the bullet and tell him you love him already?” Genevieve asks, as if Penelope hasn't spoken. "I know, that sounds extra fucking sappy coming from me, of all people, but I know you're not gonna give me any dirty details."

"Don't be ridiculous, Gen." 

"Hey, last time we talked, you said you were gonna ask him to get you to subspace. Now, I'm not saying you're gonna be in love with every dom you have, but the way you talk about him—”

“We're friends,” Penelope protests. "I trust him. He wasn't officially my dom, but I guess now he is, because he's already said yes about taking me there. Let's not complicate things. It's not worth it." 

“All I'm saying is that casual sex isn't always casual when subspace is involved." 

“I get it—”

“I'm not sure you do, Penelope. You may not want to complicate things, but you kind of already are. This shit is intense, girl. Be careful. I don't want your heart to be broken again."

Penelope just shakes her head. “I'll be fine, Gen. Alfie was never close enough to me to break my heart."

"But..."

"I love you for caring, but you don't have to worry about me. I promise." 

There's silence on the other end for a bit. “Okay," Gen says, not sounding convinced. “Anyway. Are you going to be at the club tonight? There's an intermediate rope class happening. Apparently Colin will be teaching it.”

"Colin?” Penelope repeats in a squeaky voice. 

"Yeah. He's not been around a while, he said he had other work, but Michaela cancelled last minute and Colin apparently told Tilley he would be back from wherever he went—”

“Albania," Penelope automatically supplies. 

"—right, yeah. So he's teaching it tonight and I know you missed the last rope class and wanted to get to the next level, so I figured I should let you know." 

“Thanks for telling me, I should be able to make it," Penelope says, glancing up as she notices the sound of the bathroom door unlocking. "Listen, Gen, I have to go. Sorry for waking you. Are you gonna be at the club tonight?" 

“Maybe. Not for the rope class, but maybe later on." 

“Okay. Hopefully I'll see you there then.”

"You owe me a drink for waking me up, Featherington. A Bloody Mary at this point." 

Penelope laughs. “Done and done. Speak soon, Gen, bye.”

"Bye, Penelope."

Getting to her feet, putting down her phone, Penelope pulls the robe more securely around her as she takes in the sight of Colin, freshly showered in a t-shirt and jeans. “Hey,” Colin says, a faraway look in his eyes, "I should make a move. Got a shit ton of laundry to do and then I have—”

“A rope class to teach at the club, yeah, I know," Penelope says, and she's not sure why it surprises her that he's getting ready to leave. That's what he always does. Maybe the most surprising part is that she doesn't want him to. "Who drew the short straw for laundry this time?" 

He gives her a slightly rueful smile. “Kate and Anthony, but, um, they don't know it yet. I was gonna call them on my way over.”

“Don't they hate it when you do that?" 

Colin laughs. “I mean, at least I call beforehand. After that time I knocked on their door unannounced and got an earful from Anthony on the Ring camera about how he and his wife were busy—" 

“Hey, at least you didn't get an eyeful," she quips back. "And they have Neddy now.”

Scrunching his nose, Colin shakes his head. “That's how Neddy came to be, Pen. But yeah, I'd rather not be traumatised thinking about any of that.”

She chuckles. “Fair. I'm not even related to Anthony and I don't think I need to see him getting it on, so I get it." They share another laugh, but then Penelope takes a deep breath. “Why don't you do your laundry here, Colin? The club's an easier route to mine than Anthony's, and I already said you could sleep over. I meant that part too last night.”

It's only now that Colin frowns a little, before his face softens and he comes to sit on her bed. Penelope stays standing, folding her arms. "We should probably talk,” he says gently. "Properly." 

“We should,” she agrees. "You said we need to go over hard and soft limits. That you wanted to do this properly, Colin. I agree. But my washing machine’s empty. You may as well use it while I shower.”

He sighs, looking like he has more to say, a lot more. But then he nods, relenting more easily than she expects. “Okay. How's this? I'll do my laundry and make us breakfast. We can talk then.”

Trying not to sound as tremulous as she feels, Penelope just nods. “Yeah, sure. I'd like that." 

"All right. Thanks, sweetheart.”

Again the endearment slips out seemingly without Colin realising it, and he normally catches himself in time, but now he doesn't. She can't quite meet his eyes yet she does smile, because she has an excuse to let herself enjoy this part now.  

In the shower, she can't resist touching herself, not enough to get herself off but just enough to tantalise her body about what will follow in the next days and weeks. She closes her eyes and thinks of Colin as her fingers inch inside herself, Colin and his big hands and thick fingers and thicker cock, of his rough tongue and strong arms and the musky scent on his shirt—the feeling as she wore something of his for the first time, like she was his, that she belonged to him in the way she so desperately and embarrassingly craves. Her mind lingers on the man she loves but can't have forever, the one currently cooking breakfast for her after sleeping over.

It feels too good to be true but also simply not enough.

It'll never be enough.