Archive of Our Own

“You are astonishing, Colin.”

Without a doubt that was the highest compliment Colin had ever received. And spoken in the sweetest voice, dripping with awe and admiration… He could not be at fault for feeling so affected. And if his grip on her tightened and his chest puffed out with pride and satisfaction when she thanked him for looking after them, after her, that was no one’s business.

“I will always look after you, Penelope,” he said, meaning every word. “You are special to me.”

“As are you,” she sighed, “to me.”

Colin gazed down at Penelope's soft, blushing face as they swayed to the music, her petite frame fitting so perfectly in his arms. The brandy he'd imbibed coursed through his veins, heightening his senses and amplifying the rush of heroic triumph he still felt from unmasking Jack Featherington.

Colin pulled her a little closer, relishing the softness of her curves against him. In that moment, he felt like the king of the world, the very embodiment of chivalry and valor. No challenge seemed insurmountable, no foe unconquerable.

He wished to dance and dance and dance with her, to hear her praises and feel her warm body pressed up against his all night long. He wished for the music to never stop.

Until he didn’t. Until Penelope's melodic voice, barely above a whisper, floated up to him.

“I only wish I could thank you, in some way.”

His heart raced as Penelope's sweet words washed over him, her innocent gratitude awakening a sudden, fierce willingness to push modesty to the side and accept a reward. In his alcohol-fueled bravado, he found himself thinking of medieval maidens rewarding their gallant knights with tokens of affection.

As the music faded away, Colin made a split-second decision. He took Penelope's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and leaning down with a conspiratory smile.

“If you so insist.”

Without waiting for a response, he led her out of the crowded ballroom, not even waiting for the music to reach its final note, navigating the grand foyer with single-minded purpose. He found himself drawn to the second floor, to a seemingly long-forgotten library that rarely saw use.

Colin ushered Penelope inside the dimly lit room, shutting the door firmly behind them. The air was thick with dust and the scent of aged books. He turned to face her, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Colin,” Penelope started, nervous. “We disappeared once already, someone might notice this time.”

He dismissed her concerns with a relaxed and unbothered shake of his head. They never needed a chaperone, why would they need one now? Who would dare enforce it?

“I believe you wished to thank me, Penelope,” Colin said, his voice low and resonant in the stillness of the library. “I must confess, I find myself quite eager to learn how you’d show your gratitude.”

Colin's lips curled into a playful –almost predatory– smile as Penelope stuttered her innocent reply.

“I–I don't have anything of value to give you, Colin. But I suppose…” She looked around, uncertain. “I suppose you could choose anything you'd like from this room. My family rarely uses these books…they would not notice.” He took a step closer to her, causing her to almost shrink on herself. “I could–I could offer some recommendations?”

No, a book would not do, he thought. I have plenty, I do not want more…

Her tone gave no indication of any hidden meaning or scandalous intent, yet his eyes travelled to her lips on their own accord. His mind decided, for lack of an adequate physical token, a maiden had something else to offer, like Lady Bertilak and Sir Gawain. Granted, his mind was purposely ignoring certain context and themes of the poem, but to him it was close and justifiable enough.

And Penelope’s lips looked so generous, how could he possibly gather the strength from the knight and refuse them? He was a gentleman, but just a man at the end of the day, and there was only so much a man could do against temptation.

He took a step closer, backing her up against the bookshelf, his eyes glinting with newfound hunger. The moon beams seeping through the curtains created a charming effect on her round face, shadows veiling half her countenance and the pale light setting off her luminous eyes in a most captivating manner.

“Anything, you say?” Colin murmured, his voice low and smooth, as to not frighten her. “In that case…”

He leaned in, his face mere inches from hers, his gaze locked onto her parted lips. Penelope's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink. Colin's heart raced, desire pulsing through his veins like liquid fire.

“Pen," Colin murmured, his hand coming up to brush a stray curl from her brow, somehow escaping her high coiffure. “I do believe you have something of value, something I wish you’d give me…”

“Colin,” she breathed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

“May I take a kiss from your tender lips as my reward?” He saw her trembling hand rise enough to pinch her own arm. “What are you doing?” He chuckled.

“I– Are you sure?” She asked, ignoring his question. “Is that truly what you want? You don’t have to– I promise, you can ask anything you want, there’s no need–”

“I desire my recompense to be naught but a kiss bestowed upon me by your lips.” He insisted. Although he spoke firmly and with certainty, for the first time since they left the study, his confidence flared. “Unless… Unless that is not what you desire.” Hyper-aware of their closeness, he took half a step back, not strong enough to put a greater distance between them. “Forgive me, I–”

He found himself unable to complete his sentence, as he was taken aback by the sudden boldness of the diminutive redhead. She had leaped forward and planted a kiss just beneath his lips, narrowly missing her mark by a mere inch or two.

The spot between his chin and mouth tingled with the ghost of her lips.

His smile grew the pinkier her face got. She was truly adorable, he thought, looking up at him with wide eyes and accelerated breathing.

“Is that… was that alright?” She asked.

He cradled her cheek, his thumb idly playing with her plump lower lip.

“It was lovely but… it was not a proper kiss, was it?”

Her eyes kept switching between his lips and his eyes. As though not trusting her own voice, she limited herself to swallow and shake her head. Her trembling hands placed themselves carefully on his chest. He in turn grabbed at her wide hips, holding her steady with both hands. A deep contented rumble was heard in the quiet room, and it took him a second to realise it came from his own throat: his delight at the fullness he found there voicing itself.

Gently, he moved her to the side, breaking their eye contact only to make sure she didn’t stumble as he helped her up the old stool nearby. Once on top, closer to his face than she’s ever been, nothing could stop him from claiming his prize. He didn't wait for a verbal answer, instead closing the scant distance between them and capturing her lips with his own.

It was a chaste kiss, barely more than a second of contact. But what a second it was. Her soft, warm lower lip fitted perfectly between his own set, as did his upper lip between hers, cradled so tenderly he could only resent separation.

Perhaps it was such resentment that led him to chase after her retreating mouth and capture it once again, moving his with a newfound urgency that stole the very breath from their lungs.

Colin's hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over the soft skin, urging her to part her lips for him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into the honeyed cavern of her mouth, tasting the faint tang of lemonade. He consumed her innocence with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the bookshelf, his heart pounding against his ribs as he lost himself in the intoxicating taste and feel of her. Her mouth, inexperienced as it was, kept up with him, kissing him with all the ardor he was feeling. A fire that ignited at every connection of their lips travelled down to his loins, burning him up from the inside.

He was no rake, nor an experienced man in the arts of passions, but he had exchanged a kiss or two here and there in the past. He could say with certainty that it had never felt like this. No kiss had ever left him in such a state of longing, yearning for a repetition, then another, and another...so desperate to expel from his mind any notion of ever ceasing the zealous dance their lips were engaged in.

Penelope made a sweet, breathy noise against his lips, her inexperienced mouth valiantly mirroring his eagerness. Colin's hands began to roam her curves, one cradling the back of her head –fighting the urge to undo her coiffure and tangle his hands in her fiery hair– while the other splayed across the small of her back, pressing her soft body against the hard planes of his own.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving past her parted lips to taste her fully. Penelope whimpered, the sound sending a bolt of lust straight to Colin's groin. He could feel his body responding, his arousal growing with each passing second. But it wasn't just physical desire, there was something more –a deep, inexplicable connection that made his heart ache in a way it never had before.

It was no surprise to him that such a feeling would be awakened by none other than Penelope. Sweet Penelope, would-never-forsake-me Penelope. Who else would ever be able to give his heart such a tremendous shake, but the girl who answered his letters when even his own family ignored them, the girl who shined brighter than the sunshine, not by the yellow gown she usually wore, but by the wide and joyful smile on her face. Penelope with her melodious laugh and witty remarks. Penelope with her hair of fire and warm personality. Penelope with her sky-eyes and tender heart. Penelope, Penelope, Penelope, it was all his mind could think about. He was sobering up from the alcohol and getting drunk again just on her.

His tormentor’s hands clung to the front of his waistcoat, her fingers curling into the fabric as she tried to maintain some semblance of control, yet Colin could feel her melting into him, being consumed by the same fire that enveloped him. Only when his lungs demanded him to, did he tear his mouth away from hers, both of them gasping for air. Penelope's eyes were glazed, her lips swollen and glistening. Colin's heart raced as he stared down at her, realising with a startling clarity that he had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her in that moment.

“Pen,” he breathed, his voice rough with desire. “That was... I have never felt anything like that before.”

Penelope blinked up at him, confused.

“Did I not do it right? I'm sorry, I've never... I mean, I don't have much experience with…” She trailed off, biting her lower lip nervously.

Colin silenced her with another kiss, softer this time but no less intense.

“You were perfect," he murmured against her lips. "Too perfect.” He stole another quick kiss from her pouty mouth. The temptation proved simply irresistible in her close proximity.

Slowly, his hands continued their exploration of her curves, mapping out the flare of her hips, the dip of her waist, the swell of her breasts. He could feel her trembling beneath his touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

It would be a lie to say he never noted how generous God had been when making the little redhead. He had eyes, the garish flocks her mama donned her in might try –for reasons beyond his understanding– to conceal her ample attributes, but they could not hide them from his wandering eyes, not with the advantage his height gave him.

But seeing it was different than feeling it.

Colin groaned, his control slipping rapidly. He knew he should slow down, should give her time to adjust to these new sensations, but the way she responded to him, the way her body melted into his touch... It was intoxicating.

He captured her lips once more, his tongue delving deep as his hands boldly cupped her breasts, enjoying the weight of them in his palms. As big as his hands were, they still could not cover the entirety of them. Penelope moaned into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of pure lust straight to his aching cock. He didn't stop, too lost in the haze of desire to care about anything but the feel of Penelope's body against his own. His lips were soon on their way to where his hands squeezed her, kissing reverently the curve of her cheek, the pulse beneath her throat, the thumping of her heart. He placed great focus on that area and its glorious surroundings.

Penelope’s skin was made to be kissed, there was no doubt about it, no argument that might convince him such softness was not placed on this earth for anything other than to be worshiped and savoured. Her little gasps and whimpers intoxicated him further. He was harder than a rock inside his trousers, more on edge than he’d ever been, and no contact other than the fabric containing him was made. In fact, he’s been fighting the urge to press his need against her soft body, as he knew even the lightest caress from her body would create an explosion that surely would not be appreciated by the maids that tended to his laundry the next day.

He was having much more fun focusing solely on her, anyways.

Colin's heart pounded as he gazed down at the petite girl, her small form very much like a dove perched curiously on the library stool, waiting for his next move. He moved his hand slowly, down her sensual figure, giving her opportunities to pull away if she so chose, but she remained still. Her eyes were wide and trusting as he reached the curve of her belly, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink that made him ache to kiss them.

“Pen,” Colin murmured. “Might I be so bold as to... to touch you? Here?” He let his hand travel a little lower, gently cupping the promised heaven between her legs.

She gasped and trembled, yet made no move to stop him. Instead she nodded, holding onto his shoulders.

He reached down and gently lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing the creamy skin of her thighs clad in delicate stockings. His breath caught at the sight, the simple expanse of flesh igniting a hunger he could barely control.

Colin swallowed hard. His hand trembled slightly as he slowly, carefully, slid his palm up the smooth expanse of her thigh, feeling the warmth of her skin even through the fine fabric. Higher and higher he went, until his fingers brushed against the soft, plump flesh of her inner thigh, her curls grazing his knuckles, and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Pen,” he breathed, his voice rough with desire. “You must know... you must understand what it is you're agreeing to let me do.” He searched her eyes, hoping to find a glimmer of understanding, a hint of the carnal knowledge he so desperately craved to share with her.

“I do not,” Penelope confessed in a soft and breathy voice. “But I trust you, Colin. I know... I know I will like it, if you do it. If it’s with you.” Her faith in him was humbling, her trust a gift he vowed to cherish.

Colin hesitated only a moment before his fingers found her most intimate place. He groaned at the contact, feeling the slick heat of her arousal without a barrier of cloth. She was wet, so deliciously wet, and the knowledge that he had done this to her, that his touch had ignited such a response, made his head swim with pride and desire.

“Sweet heavens, Penelope,” Colin breathed, his fingers stroking gently, over the damp curls. “You're... you're soaked, love. And it's all for me.” He couldn't resist the urge to slip a finger in between her soft folds, spreading her honey, and the sound of her moan at his touch was the most exquisite thing he had ever heard.

“Oh, Colin,” Penelope sighed, her back arching as she pressed herself against his hand, seeking more of his touch. The velvety softness of her flesh, the slickness coating his fingers, the way her body responded so eagerly to him... it was better than he had ever imagined.

Colin could feel his manhood throbbing near in tandem with the racing of his heart, his body aching to join with hers. But he held back, determined to bring his sweet Penelope to the heights of ecstasy before he allowed himself the selfish pleasure of his own release.

He would worship her body as it deserved, would make her sing with rapture until she forgot all but his name. And then, perhaps that very night, he would claim her as his own, in every way a man could claim a woman.

For in that moment, as he stood there with his fingers playing with her lovely quim, Colin knew one thing with crystalline clarity: he would never be able to let her go. This fiery-haired temptress, this innocent siren, would be his for all eternity, if he had any say in the matter.

And God help him, but he would move heaven and earth to make it so.

Colin's inexperienced fingers fumbled slightly as he explored Penelope, searching for that elusive sweet spot his brothers had mentioned a few times, the one he’s heard about back at Eton, described in hushed conversations amongst the students. He could feel her slick arousal coating his digits as he probed gently, trying to recall the exact details of their heated whispers.

“Pen,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. “Have you ever... that is, have you ever touched yourself here before?” He was momentarily dizzy with the vision of sweet, little Penelope exploring her sweet, little body in the secrecy of night.

Penelope shook her head, the one fiery curl that had escaped her carefully done coiffure bouncing with the motion.

“Never.” She gasped. “It feels so strange, so... so wonderful.” Her voice was a breathy whisper, filled with wonder and burgeoning desire.

Colin let her sweet, kittenish moans be his guide, watching her face intently for any signs of pleasure or discomfort. Slowly, he began to circle a specific spot, feeling a small, hard nub beneath his fingertip. Penelope's breath hitched, and a particularly pretty moan escaped her lips, spurring him on.

“There?” Colin asked her hoarsely, increasing the pressure and speed of his touch. She nodded enthusiastically. “You're doing so well, love,” he praised. His fingers circled and rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching in awe as Penelope's face contorted with new, unfamiliar sensations.

He was filled with pride at the knowledge that he was the one and only man to show her this kind of pleasure, her teacher of passion. To learn alongside her only enhanced the experience for him. He took note of just how much pressure she enjoyed on her clit, just how much she enjoyed the teasing slowness of his movements and the occasional speed. He was glad for how responsive she was.

Her moans grew louder, more insistent, and Colin knew he had found her sweet spot. Emboldened, he slipped a finger into her tight, virgin passage, feeling it clench and flutter around the invading digit. Gently at first, he began to push, his fingers pumping in and out of her slick channel as his thumb continued the polishing of her pearl.

“Oh! Oh, Colin! This is... I feel so... ahh!” Penelope's words dissolved into breathless cries of pleasure as he sank a second finger in, her hips starting to rock instinctively against his hand. The obscene sound of her wetness filled the small room, mingling with her adorable moans and the creaking of the old stool beneath her.

He could feel her beginning to tighten around him, her walls fluttering wildly as he fucked her with his fingers, his thumb rubbing firm circles against her clit. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, her chest heaving as she clung to him, her fingernails digging into the fabric of his coat.

“Colin,” she whimpered, her voice pitching higher. “I feel... I feel so strange. Oh! Oh, it's too much!” She bit her lip hard, trying to stifle her cries.

Colin's heart raced as Penelope teetered on the brink of her very first climax, her petite body trembling against his touch. Just before her peak crashed over her like a tidal wave, he withdrew his fingers from her dripping core.

Penelope whimpered at the loss, her hips bucking as if chasing his retreating hand. But then he was sweeping her up into his arms, and carrying her in a few strides to the desk at the other side of the room. He set her down gently on the smooth, polished wood.

“Colin, what are you... oh!” Penelope gasped as he urged her to lie back. She looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“Pen,” Colin murmured, his voice thick with uncontainable desire. “I want... I need to taste you. I need to put my mouth on you, to... to lick you, to delight in you…” He searched her eyes, hoping for permission, praying she would grant him this desperate request. “Please,” he said. “Would you let me?”

Penelope bit her lip, a delicate little moan escaping her as she nodded.

“I–I said you could take anything you want.” His own need was mirrored in her voice.

Colin's heart swelled at her words. He knelt before her, pushing her skirts up around her waist to reveal the glistening treasure hidden beneath. He paused, drinking in the sight of her most intimate place, his first real glimpse of a woman's quim.

It was glorious, more beautiful than he had ever imagined. Plump, rosy folds glistened with her arousal, curling hair at the apex, a darker shade of red than the one in her head. The pink, swollen flesh was like a ripe, succulent fruit, begging to be tasted. And the scent... the intoxicating aroma of her desire filled his nostrils, making his mouth water.

Colin leaned in, running his tongue along her slit, groaning at the ambrosial taste that exploded across his taste buds. He felt Penelope's fingers tangle in his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp as she struggled not to cry out. It stunned him how receptive he was to said touch.

“Oh! Oh, Colin!” Penelope gasped, her hips canting up to press herself more fully against his mouth. He could feel her trembling, her thighs quivering on either side of his head as he licked and sucked greedily at her weeping sex.

One day he might be able to explore her sweet cunt with the finesse and skill required, but at that moment, all he wanted was to devour.

Colin licked at her with a desperate, almost feral hunger, his chin and cheeks soon glistening with her fragrant juices. He couldn't get enough of her taste, her scent, the feel of her silky soft flesh against his tongue. Each lap, each suckle, only fueled his obsession, his all-consuming need to make this woman his.

Penelope began to grind against him, her hips undulating in an instinctive rhythm. Her sweet little mewls and gasps filled the room, spurring Colin on as he feasted on her delectable cunt like a man starved.

“Colin!” Penelope whimpered, her voice pitching higher as he focused his attentions on that sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. “Oh, Colin, yes! Don't stop, please don't stop!”

He could feel her climbing rapidly towards that peak once more, her body tensing and tightening around him. But he would not stop, could not stop, until he had wrung every last drop of pleasure from her quivering form.

He wondered if he could live like this, kneeling before her with his face buried between her soft, creamy thighs.

Colin redoubled his efforts, spurred on by the knowledge that he was the sole cause of Penelope's rapidly building ecstasy. The way she writhed and bucked against him and her sweet cries of pleasure filling his ears ignited a fierce sense of pride and possessiveness within him. He could feel the power coursing through his veins, the intoxicating knowledge that he alone held the key to her rapture. Just as he had protected her from the possible repercussions of her cousin’s schemes, he would now dedicate himself to her pleasure, to her happiness, for all the days of his life.

If she was so receptive to his wicked desires, surely she’d be as receptive to his hand in marriage.

Colin suckled greedily at the sensitive pearl, his tongue swirling and flicking against the tender nub as he plunged two fingers deep into her soaked, clenching channel. He could feel her velvet walls fluttering once more around his digits, her body drawing him in deeper as he fucked her with his hand.

“That's it,” Colin murmured against her heated flesh, his words vibrating deliciously against her most intimate place. “Let it happen. Surrender to it, love.” He curled his fingers experimentally as he laved her clit with long, savoring licks. She arched and howled, so he stopped the thrusting and focused on rubbing that spongy spot.

Penelope could only mewl and whimper in response, her hands fisting in his hair, holding him tight against her as she grinded her weeping sex wantonly against his mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of his slurping on her dripping cunt filled the room, mingling with her adorable cries and his own sounds of delight.

Any guilt he might have felt about defiling her vanished like mist beneath the heat of his desire. He could not feel remorse when he knew, in the depths of his being, that no one could ever care for Penelope as deeply, as completely, as he did. No one could provide for her, protect her, pleasure her, the way he could.

As he drank down her sweet nectar, as he felt her hurtling towards her peak, Colin made a silent vow: he would be the best husband Penelope could ever ask for. By day, he would shield her from the world's cruelties, would give her a home filled with love and laughter. And by night... by night, he would worship her body as the temple it was, would bring her to heights of ecstasy she had never dreamed possible. He would work tirelessly for the rest of his life to make himself worthy of her, to coax some reciprocation from her, to at least forgive his ungentlemanly behaviour and debauchery of her innocence.

Their future was sweet and promising in his mind; life shared, a partnership forged in love and trust. The image of her as his wife, his companion, filled his mind and warmed his heart in an overwhelming way.

Penelope would make the most perfect wife, he knew it with every fiber of his being. Her keen intellect and quick wit would make her an ideal partner in all things; her gentle heart ensuring a home filled with love and compassion. She would be his confidante, his dearest friend, his lover... all rolled into one exquisite package. He could already picture their days together – the leisurely breakfasts shared over heated discussions, their feet tangled beneath the table as they debated the latest books they had read or the happenings of the day. He would come home to a house filled with the delicious scent of her perfume, would sit by the fire as she read to him, her voice soft and soothing. And in the evenings, when the candles were lit and the world had grown quiet, he would take her in his arms, would lay her down on their bed, and show her the depths of his devotion. She would be a quick study, he had no doubt, eager to learn all the ways to bring him pleasure, to make him feel as cherished and desired.

Penelope's cries grew louder, more urgent, as Colin felt her tightening around his insistent fingers. Her velvety walls clamped down, gripping him like a vice as he suckled hard on her throbbing clit. He could feel the flutters, the tensing of her body, and he knew she was on the precipice of her release.

“Colin!” Penelope nearly screamed, her voice echoing off the library walls as her climax crashed over her. “Oh, Colin! I'm... I'm…” Her words dissolved into a wordless cry of ecstasy as her orgasm consumed her, her body convulsing with the force of it.

Colin groaned deeply around her clit, the vibrations only intensifying her pleasure as he felt her gush around his fingers, her sweet nectar flooding his mouth. He drank it down greedily, relishing the taste of her release, the knowledge that he had brought her to such a peak of bliss.

The domestic thoughts, the visions of their future together, coupled with the exquisite feel of Penelope's climax, nearly pushed Colin to his own brink. He could feel his need building, his cock throbbing almost painfully against his breeches as he worked Penelope through her peak.

She’d be a good mother to my children. The thought came out of nowhere and so suddenly it gave him whiplash. With it came the image of Penelope, fuller and softer, covered in the glow of maternity. Penelope, darling and sweet Penelope, carrying his children, filling their home with little ones…

Colin pressed soft, loving kisses along Penelope's quivering thigh as she floated down from the clouds of her climax, his tongue soothing her sensitive skin. He could feel the aftershocks coursing through her, the way her body still trembled and twitched with the force of her release. He moved her skirts so he might kiss her hips and belly, as though preemptively thanking the space that would nurture and guard their children until the day they arrived into this world.

Rising to his feet, Colin took Penelope's small hand in his, their fingers intertwining naturally, as if they had been holding hands for a lifetime. He brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss through the fabric of her gloves, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Darling,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion. The term of endearment sounded just right for her. “It would be very greedy of me if I asked to be allowed into your bedroom, but… I find myself desiring more of you, more than this desk can provide.”

“More?” Penelope asked dreamily.

“Would that be agreeable with you?”

Penelope's cheeks flushed a pretty pink, a delighted smile playing at the corners of her kiss-swollen lips.

“Yes. Very," she breathed, squeezing his hand. He planted a grateful kiss on her peachy mouth before helping her down the table and smoothed down her skirts. “Come with me.” With a coy glance over her shoulder, she led him out of the library. His eyes were momentarily distracted by the enticing sway of her hips, following her dumbly.

They crept silently down the hallway, and he could swear he heard their hearts pounding in tandem, the thrill of their secret tryst sending adrenaline racing through their veins. Just as they neared the corner they heard hushed voices and hurried footsteps approaching. He vaguely recognized the obnoxious voice of Lord Fife and a feminine one. His mind was half conjuring a judgmental thought about Fife sneaking Miss Goring a second time on the night when he caught up to his own hypocrisy.

Mindful of her much shorter legs, he picked her up on his arms and hurried upstairs. He thought he heard a whistle when he reached the safety of the second floor, but could only pray he was mistaken before his focus was lost again in the fiery miss he was sneaking for himself. She contained her giggles as he let her down on the floor so she might take back her role as his guide.

Colin let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Penelope tugged him the last few feet to her bedchamber door.

Colin paused before she could open it, pulling Penelope close to face him. His heart raced as he gazed down at her flushed and beautiful face, taking in the desire and innocence warring in her light-blue eyes. He knew he needed to be certain she understood the path they were choosing, the irreversible step they were about to take.

“Penelope,” Colin murmured, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing over the delicate curve of her bottom lip. “I need to be sure you comprehend what will occur should we continue down this road. If we go further, if I lead you to your bed…” He paused, his voice growing huskier with each passing second. "I will take you, Penelope. I will lay you down upon that mattress and I will... I will take you. The way a man should only take his wife.”

To punctuate his meaning, Colin took her small, delicate hand and guided it to the straining bulge in his breeches. He pressed her palm against the rigid length of his arousal, letting her feel the size and shape of him through the fabric. It throbbed against her touch, growing even harder as she gasped softly.

“Can you feel that?” He bent down so he could keep whispering in her ear. “That is what will be inside you, buried deep within your virgin flesh. Stretching you, filling you, claiming you as mine in every way imaginable.” Colin's voice was a heated rasp, heavy with lust and longing. He searched her eyes intently, needing to see his own desire reflected back at him. “But Penelope, you must tell me now if you wish to stop. If you feel any hesitation or doubt, any trepidation about taking this leap with me. For once it begins, there will be no turning back. You will be mine, utterly and completely.”

Colin held his breath, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he awaited her response. The air between them was thick with tension, the weight of their impending union hanging heavily in the space that separated them. He had never wanted anything more in his life, but he would stop, he would walk away, if she asked him to. Lock the memory of this passionate night in a room in his heart and pretend it never happened, no matter how much it would pain him to deny his desperate craving for her.

He would silence his own feelings too, if she did not want them.

“And you will be mine?” She asked after a moment. He nodded. “Then I do not wish to stop.”

She was up in his arms in a second.

Colin muffled Penelope's delighted giggles with a searing kiss, pulling her flush against him as he pinned her to the wall. His lips moved demandingly over hers, his tongue delving into the warmth of her mouth to tangle with hers. He could feel her melting against him, her soft curves molding to the hard planes of his body as if she had been made for him alone.

Without breaking the kiss, Colin opened the door and carried Penelope to the bed, his strong arms cradling her close. He kicked the door shut behind them, the sound echoing in the room like a gunshot. Penelope stifled a gasp, but made no move to break the kiss.

Colin tumbled over as soon as they reached the edge of the bed, her frame bouncing as he dropped her onto the soft mattress. Before she could catch her breath, he was upon her, his larger frame looming over her diminutive one. His hands made quick work of his belt, the leather straining against his hips before he wrenched it free.

Penelope's own dainty fingers flew to the hem of her skirts, lifting them up and over, baring the creamy flesh of her thighs to his hungry gaze. She parted her legs eagerly, a silent invitation, as she felt the heat of his stare upon her most intimate place.

Just as he reached for the fastenings of his breeches, eager to free the aching length of his manhood, a sharp rap sounded at the door. They froze, their hearts leaping into their throats. Colin stood to his feet on the floor while Penelope remained sitting at the edge of the bed.

“W-Who is there?” Penelope asked. There was a pause before the person on the other side of the door answered.

“Oh!” Colin had to repress a groan as he recognised his sister’s voice. He frowned slightly, noticing for some reason she sounded surprised to find Penelope in her own room. “It’s me, Eloise… I was– uhm…”

Colin tensed as he heard the handle being turned, his hand tightening on the fastening of his breeches as he growled out a warning.

“DO NOT open that door, Eloise!”

There was another pause, a moment of stunned silence, before Eloise spoke again, confusion and a hint of annoyance in her tone.

“Colin, what on earth are you doing there? Surely you understand how badly it’d seem if–”

“Eloise, please. Penelope and I require a moment alone. We will both join you downstairs shortly, but for now go,” he interrupted her, his voice low and urgent as he tried to persuade his sister to give them the privacy they desperately needed.

“But–”

“Go. Now!” He hated how like Anthony he sounded, but he could not afford a gentler tone.

He held his breath, hoping his sister would heed his warning. He knew the scandal that would ensue should she discover them in such a compromising position. And another scandal was the last thing his family needed at this moment, but his need for Penelope outweighed their reputation’s sake. He had to claim her, it simply could not wait.

To his immense relief, after a moment of grumbling, Eloise's footsteps receded down the hallway. Colin let out a shaky breath, turning back to Penelope with a grin of relief and renewed desire.

But then, Penelope's small hand reached for his bulge, her dainty fingers caressing him sweetly over his clothes. He jumped at the sudden contact, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as pleasure raced through his body at her touch.

Penelope started, her eyes wide and startled as she looked up at him.

“Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…” she began.

“No, darling, do not apologize,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Your touch feels exquisite.”

To demonstrate, Colin finished unbuttoning his trousers and pulled out his cock –her eyes widened at the size of him– and guided her hand to his mouth, giving it a good lick before leading it to wrap around his throbbing length once more, showing her how to stroke him, how to pleasure him.

Penelope followed his guidance eagerly, her small hand working over his cock with a tentative but enthusiastic grip. Colin groaned at her touch, his hips jerking as pleasure sparked through his veins.

Feeling bold, she leaned forward, her pretty pink tongue darting out to lick at the swollen head of his arousal. She mimicked the way he had pleasured her earlier, suckling gently at the tip.

Colin shuddered, his hand fisting in her fiery hair as he guided her head, no longer caring about ruining her coiffure, urging her to take him deeper into her warm, wet mouth. She eagerly complied.

“Yes, just like that,” he encouraged. “Take more of me, love.”

Penelope hummed deliciously, her jaw stretching wide as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around his throbbing cock. She could only take a few inches of his length, but the feeling of her suckling him, her soft lips and clever tongue working over his aching flesh, was enough to drive Colin wild with lust.

After a moment, he couldn't take any more. With a low groan, Colin pulled Penelope off his cock and pushed her back against the mattress, his larger frame looming over her. He kneeled at the edge, arranging her thighs over his own, keeping her spread and he pushed his trousers down. He could see the need and desire warring in her clear eyes, could feel the way her body trembled with anticipation.

She craved his possession as much as he craved her sweet submission.

Colin's heart raced as Penelope bared her glistening cunny to him once more, the pink folds slick and inviting, her opening begging to be claimed. He gripped her plump, creamy thighs, holding them open as he positioned himself at her entrance. The heat radiating from her core was intoxicating, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils and making his head swim with desire.

“Dear,” he whispered, “I must warn you that there may be a moment of pain. It should only be this first time. It will be fleeting, and I’ll make it worth it, I promise.”

He could see the nervousness in her eyes, but also the wanting, the longing. She hooked her arms around his neck and her ankles over his lower back, and that was enough for him.

Colin lined himself up, the swollen head of his manhood parting her slick folds with ease until he reached her entrance, and pushed forward. He groaned at the exquisite sensation, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as her silken walls fluttered around him. With a swift, powerful thrust, he slid in, burying himself to the hilt inside her virgin depths.

Penelope gasped, her fingers digging into his neck, her nails raking lightly down his skin as a sharp hiss of pain escaped her lips, but Colin was lost in the exquisite feeling of her, in the way her perfect quim gripped him like a velvet vise. He could feel every inch of her, could sense the way her untouched walls embraced his invading length.

“God, Penelope,” Colin groaned, his hips still as he allowed her to adjust to his size. “Your cunny is... It's perfect. Made for me. Made to be filled by my cock.”

He praised her endlessly, his voice a low, reverent rumble as he marveled at the way her body accepted him. Penelope squirmed beneath him, her hips undulating against his in a way that made Colin's blood roar through his veins like a wild beast’s.

Unable to hold back any longer, Colin began to move, his hips pulling back only to slam forward once more. He set a relentless pace, pounding into Penelope with a ferocity that belied the gentle lover he had been just moments before. Each thrust pushed him deeper, each drive of his hips forcing her thighs further apart as he claimed her with a wild, primal hunger.

“Fuck,” Colin growled, his breath hot against her ear as he panted harshly. “You feel so fucking good. So tight, so perfect. This sweet little cunny was made to be used, made for me to breed.”

She looked up at him, brows knitting both in pleasure and confusion.

“Breed?”

“You’d like that?” He grunted, hips never ceasing its pace. “Want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my seed?”

He punctuated each filthy word with a sharp thrust, his cock driving into her again and again as he lost himself in the exquisite pleasure of her body. Penelope could only moan and gasp beneath him, her own cries of rapture growing louder and more desperate with each passing second.

“Yes! Oh, oh, Colin!” Penelope cried, her voice a breathy, cute little mewl that only spurred Colin on, only made him thrust harder, faster, with a wild abandon.

Colin could feel his release approaching, could feel the telltale tightening in his heavy, aching balls. Only a thousand times better than when he was about to spill in his own hand. The thought of spilling his seed deep inside Penelope's untouched womb, of planting his child in her, made him groan with a feral hunger. His lust-addled mind could scarcely form coherent thoughts, consumed as it was by the primal need to breed his sweet Penelope. His hips pistoned furiously, driving into her clutching heat with wild, animalistic abandon as he lost himself in the haze of his desire.

“Going to... ‘nngh... fill this tight little cunny... 'til... 'til it's... dripping with my spunk,” Colin grunted, his words slurring together as he rutted into her. “Wanna see... 'sweet fuck... my cum... leaking out of this... 'sweet, ripe little–”

He punctuated each stuttered, filthy declaration with a sharp, deep thrust, his heavy bollocks slapping lewdly against Penelope's soft skin. Colin did not feel a man anymore, but rather a thing of raw, pulsing need, possessed by the all-consuming urge to claim his lover, to fill her and stake his claim.

“Mine... all mine…” Colin growled, his voice a low, guttural rasp. “This belly... ‘s goin’ to swell... 'round my child. These tits... shall grow... 'nngh... heavy with milk. Fuck, Penelope…”

Lost in his lustful babble, Colin could only moan and groan, his hips never ceasing their relentless rhythm as he fucked his sweet Penelope with wild, untamed passion. He was climbing higher and higher, and he drove into her with a ferocity that spoke of a man on the very edge of sanity.

Penelope could only pant and mewl beneath him, her baby-blue eyes wide and shining with bright, awestruck wonder. She gazed up at Colin adoringly, her pretty face flushed and glowing with the rapture of their joining.

“Oh, y-yes Colin!” Penelope gasped, her sweet little voice breathless and quivering. “Yes, I w-want it! I want your b-baby, your cum, all your cum! Fill me up, 'til I'm... 'til I'm dripping! Oh, please…”

He had to chuckle, as he recognised her effort in imitating his words.

The shy, blushing redhead begged so sweetly, so endearingly, for him to breed her. Her fingers moved south, gripping his flexing backside, urging him deeper, silently begging him to claim her utterly and completely. Penelope was the very picture of cute, blushing innocence, even as she surrendered herself so wantonly to her lustful lover’s feral thrusts.

His still-unskilled but eager fingers found Penelope's throbbing pearl, rubbing the sensitive nub with quick, firm circles. The added stimulation proved too much for the sweet girl to withstand, and he could feel her climax building rapidly, her widening eyes and the tightening of her thighs around him letting him know.

“Oh! Oh, Colin!” Penelope squealed, her voice a cute, breathless cry of impending rapture. “I... I'm going to... to cum! Fill me up, breed me, please! I want your baby, I want it so badly!”

That did it for him. He could feel her inner walls beginning to quiver and clench around him, and with a final, brutal thrust, he slammed deep into Penelope just as her orgasm crashed over her.

At that very moment, a dazzling display of fireworks burst forth outside their window, the colorful explosions of light and sound perfectly timing with their shared moment of ultimate pleasure.

Colin's own release overtook him, his cock jerking and pulsing as he pumped Penelope full of his seed. They clung to each other, their bodies shaking and shuddering in unison as their mutual orgasms crashed over them like a tidal wave. The symphony of their moans and cries blended perfectly with the roar of the fireworks, a lewd and joyous accompanying piece to their carnal coupling.

Colin's hips continued their relentless grind against Penelope's, working them through the aftershocks of their intense, shared climax. He could feel her warm walls milking him for every last drop of his spunk. Colin groaned into her mouth as he kissed her tenderly, his tongue dancing with hers as they both struggled to catch their breath.

As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, Penelope pulled back slightly, her blue eyes wide and shining as she gazed up at him. A cute little furrow formed between her brows as she asked, her voice soft and hesitant.

“Colin... Did you mean it? When you said you wanted to… to put a baby in me?”

Colin's heart swelled with love and adoration. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead, tucking it gently behind her ear as he smiled down at her with a tender and devoted gaze.

“Every word,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “I meant it with every fiber of my being. In fact…” He paused, his heart racing with anticipation and excitement. “I fully intend to ask your mother for your hand in marriage this very night. That is, if you'll have me, Penelope.”

Penelope's eyes widened, her pretty mouth falling open in shock before a radiant, joyful smile spread across her face.

“Oh, Colin!” she exclaimed, her voice a happy, delighted squeal. “Yes, yes of course I'll marry you! I want nothing more than to be your wife.”

Colin's heart soared, a huge smile spread across his face as he pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He could feel tears of happiness pricking at the corners of his eyes as he held her tight, relishing in this perfect, blissful moment.

Penelope looked down between their bodies with a curious expression. Her dainty fingers traced the place where they were connected, feeling the way Colin's softening length remained buried deep inside her. 

“So this is how it happens…” He heard her musing.

He leaned down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his love and desire into the passionate embrace. When he finally pulled back, he smiled at her with a playful, hopeful expression.

“Would you be upset, my love, if I were to put a baby in you tonight?” Colin asked, his voice a low, heated rasp.

Penelope giggled, a pretty, melodic sound that made Colin's heart flutter. She shook her head as she gazed up at him with a mischievous little smirk.

“I would be upset if you didn't,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mirth and desire. “But then again, that’d mean we ought to keep trying. And I would very much like to do so. Again and again and again…”

Colin laughed, a deep, joyful sound of pure contentment. He kissed her again, his cute little wife-to-be.

He slowly withdrew his half-hard member from Penelope's tender, deflowered cunny with a low groan. Rising to his feet, he stood back to admire the lewd sight of his fiance’s intimate gardens, now glistening and swollen from their passionate coupling. The creamy essence of their joining dripped languidly down the curve of Penelope's soft, plump bottom, a testament to the thoroughness of Colin's earlier release inside her.

Unable to resist the temptation, Colin reached down and trailed a finger along Penelope's perineum, gathering a bead of his own spend upon the digit. He brought it up to his darling’s puffy mouth, her breath still coming in sweet little pants.

Penelope gazed up at him with lidded eyes. After a moment of pause, she parted her lips and accepted Colin's finger into her warm, wet mouth, her little pink tongue darting out to lap at his skin. Colin's eyes darkened with renewed lust as he watched Penelope's pretty mouth close around his finger. He could feel his cock twitch and throb, already beginning to stir with renewed need at the erotic sight.

“Good girl,” Colin praised, his voice a low, guttural rasp. “Such a sweet, obedient girl.”

Somehow this simple action made him feel more powerful than the unmasking of Jack Featherington.

He let Penelope suckle his finger clean, her dainty lips and clever little tongue working to remove every last trace of their lovemaking. 

Slowly, reluctantly, Colin removed his finger from Penelope's mouth, a strand of her spit connected the digit to her soft, plump lips for a moment before breaking. He brought it to his own mouth then, his eyes never leaving Penelope's as he licked any remaining trace of their passion from his skin with a pleased moan.

Colin idly tucked his member back into his breeches, his hungry gaze never leaving the exquisite sight of Penelope's deliciously deflowered and dripping cunny. His eyes simply refused to leave such a pleasing view.

His admiration was interrupted, however, at the obnoxiously loud and sharp knock at the door.

“Colin Bridgerton!” Anthony’s voice hissed from the other side.

“Fucking tattletale,” Colin cursed, knowing without a doubt this was Eloise’s doing. He hurried to button his pants back and helped Pen to her feet. The poor dove looked frightened.

“I will count to five and you better unlock this door or so help me god–”

He smoothed Pen’s skirt as best as he could while she tried to salvage her once high coiffure.

“One.”

“Anthony, they might not be presentable. Give them more time,” said a voice that seemed to belong to Kathani Sharma.

“Two.” It came accompanied by a chuckle he recognised as Benedict’s. 

He fastened his buckle and straightened his clothes as best as possible before moving to hold her. It was useless to try and fix her appearance; she would still look freshly-fucked and they did not have much time.

“Three.”

“All will be well,” he told her, bumping her nose with his. “You do not need to come out if you do not want to. I can handle Anthony on my own.”

She shook her head and hugged herself to his arm.

“Four!”

“I believe they can hear you, Anthony, no need to raise your voice,” said his mother.

Christ, is everyone here?

“Of course you’d be on his side,” he heard Anthony grumble, “Fiv–”

“It was unlock–woah!” As soon as he opened the door, his brother’s hands attached themselves to his lapels and dragged him out of the room. He was soon pressed against the hallway’s wall.

He had the mind to release Pen’s arm, at least, so the tiny girl merely stumbled at the sudden movement.

“Have you gone mad?!” Anthony hissed. “Do you even realise what could’ve happened if anyone but us had heard about this– this indiscretion?! Our family just came out of a scandal!”

“Yes,” Colin said calmly, “yours.”

Benedict had to stifle the cackle that escaped him at Anthony’s sharp look. It gave Colin time to look around and see who else had witnessed the newest Bridgerton scandal. It was indeed Miss Sharma’s voice he heard, as well as his mother’s. Both women moved to Pen’s side, and his heart warmed as his mother wrapped an arm around his fiancée’s shoulders, a far cry from his previous engagement. Besides Anthony and Benedict there was none other than Eloise, who looked perturbed and simply stared at the floor.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

“Do not look at her like that,” Anthony snapped. “For once, Eloise did the right thing and came to me immediately after knowing of your–”

“Wow, thank you,” Eloise japed, as she often did when she was uncomfortable.

“Not now, Eloise!” Anthony turned back to him, and Colin struggled not to laugh as his older but shorter brother tightened his grip on him. “Nevermind that, explain yourself.”

He was about to do so when a voice from the end of the hallway made them all turn.

Lady Portia Featherington, his future mother in law, was speaking in hushed tones with the Featherington’s housekeeper, distracted as she turned the corner and walked in their direction. She halted on her step at the unexpected sight in her hallway.

“What are you all– what is the meaning of this?”

Pen, who had been staring at the floor red-faced, gave a little startled jump at her mother’s question. He freed himself from Anthony’s grip and stood in front of his bride, shielding her with his broader frame.

Her small hand came to grip his larger one from behind, and he proudly tangled their fingers, holding both arms in the air as he joyfully exclaimed:

“We’re engaged!”