Work Text:
---
Their rental car revved deeply, purring with life.
Penelope shook her head slyly as she struggled not to roll her eyes. It was hard not to when he was preening like this. She smothered a grin as Colin waggled his brows in her direction. His foot pressed down sharply on the accelerator pedal again, and the engine roared, echoing down the dark tunnel until their car finally emerged into the blinding sunlight.
Squinting against the brightness, Colin reached up, pushing his wide-rimmed sunglasses back onto his cheeks, watching out of the corner of his eye as Penelope did the same with her matching pair. Beams trickled through the window glass, warming their skin and creating light patterns over the leather seats. His palm gripped around the head of the gearstick, and he hummed in contentment as he pulsed the level back into its highest gear.
Until the tunnel, they had been driving in a comfortable hum of silence. Penelope had been nose-deep in one of her romance books for most of the journey, releasing an occasional chuckle or gasp from the passenger seat. Now, the novel lay abandoned on her lap as she peered out the window, trees and shrubbery zipping by in a shapeless blur as the sunshine shimmered through her newly lightened hair.
For the most part, Colin diligently focused on the winding road, hands gripped tightly around the leather. He enjoyed the feeling of the engine thrumming under his fingertips as they sped through the countryside. But occasionally, he would glance across to Penelope, hoping to catch her stunning smile. Every time he did, he couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous woman beside him, her sundress riding slowly up the cream of her thighs as she shifted position, the low plunge giving him more than an ample view.
But on the last few glances, Colin found that her eyes were already on him, staring intensely toward the steering wheel through the tint in her sunglasses.
After the third double-take, he had to double-check. “Everything okay?”
Penelope’s head snapped back towards the windscreen, her gaze forced onto the rolling hills and dark stretch of tarmac. “Fine!” she squeaked, voice pitching higher than Colin was typically used to.
“Are you sure?” he pressed, quickly glancing away from the road to check her expression.
She nodded back, flashing him a small, if not entirely forced, smile.
“Pen…”
“I’m fine, Colin, honestly,” she insisted, squirming again slightly in her seat.
She wasn’t fine. Colin had known her long enough, first as a friend, when they would spend time with his sisters at their family home, then as a colleague, swapping gossip together in the communal kitchen. Now he knew her even more intimately than ever before; he’d traced every single freckle on her soft skin with his tongue. He knew when a quirk of her brow or a slump in her shoulders meant she’d had a stressful day. And he knew that her current tense posture meant something was amiss.
He wanted to push the issue further, but the road ahead required his attention. Colin grimaced as his hands tightened on the wheel, the edges of his lips dropping into a concentrated frown as he focused on the next few twisting turns.
As they finally rounded the last sharp corner, Penelope gasped as she pointed ahead. “Wow! What a view!”
It was a gorgeous scene. Light rays shifted onto the landscape of green peaks and lush, scattered treelines. The horizon's edge shimmered in the distance, the ocean twinkling in the sunlight. The sign ahead of them agreed, indicating a popular tourism lookout on the side of the road.
Colin’s fingers snapped onto the indicator as he guided the vehicle onto the turnoff, pulling the car into one of the many empty parking spots along the embankment. Penelope’s breath hitched loudly as he reached between them to tug on the handbrake.
Shutting the engine off, Colin swivelled in his seat, turning as far as his seatbelt would let him. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head; one lock of hair escaped under the plastic band, drooping onto his forehead between his eyes.
“Penelope.”
She followed his movements, pinning her glasses back until her deep blue eyes were sparkling. “What?”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Penelope huffed, sitting back in her seat, her arms crossing over her body and pushing her chest together. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“This is our first weekend away together,” Colin began, reaching forward to let his palm rest idly on the wheel, fingers drumming the top of the leather. He’d meticulously planned every detail for weeks, sparing no expense to create a trip she would thoroughly enjoy. Being their first time away as a couple, without the guise of friendship or the buffer of his family, it was of the utmost importance that she have a good time. He wanted nothing more than for her to love this, to love him, and to come away from this weekend knowing precisely how special she was to him. “I want everything to be perfect. So if there really is something wrong...”
“There’s not!” Penelope grimaced, glancing away into the empty car park.
A palm found the bend in her knee, drawing her face back to his. “Please tell me?”
It was impossible to resist his pouting grin for long. Or how his beautiful blue eyes shimmered under the exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes. Penelope always found herself weak at the knees just from a single glance, putty in the power of his heated stare.
“Fine! Fine,” she conceded, puffing out a breath of air. Her fingers fiddled with one of the air conditioning ducts on the dashboard as she worried her lip between her teeth.
He was probably going to be a complete arse about this, she could already tell.
“It’s your hands.”
Colin blinked in confusion, eyelashes fluttering again. “My hands? What about them?”
Penelope muttered something low under her breath, her cheeks shifting into a delightful shade of pink.
“What was that, Pen?” Now that he knew she wasn’t actually upset, Colin’s concern had morphed into playful curiosity. “Didn’t quite catch that.”
Her eyes dragged to the ceiling, staring at the fabric lining in a silent prayer. “They turn me on.”
Colin barked a soft laugh, wiggling his fingers in front of her face. “These old things?”
“Oh, come off it, Colin,” Penelope huffed, arms crossing tighter over her chest. She felt a shudder of smugness as she caught Colin’s subtle glance downwards. “You know exactly what you are doing.” She shook a nail at him accusingly. “All those gear changes and the finger tapping and caressing…”
She trailed off, and they sat silently for a moment, still enough to hear the traffic passing from the main highway. Honestly, she couldn’t say for sure whether his teasing had been intentional or not. He read her so well, often knowing just what to say and where to touch without her having to speak it; she’d just assumed he would notice where her attention frequently gravitated. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on her part, for it would have saved her the mortification of having to partake in this current conversation.
It was still new to her, this level of vulnerability with another person, trusting in them to treat her innermost secrets with care. Embarrassing as this admission was, Colin had proved to be a worthy confidante. When it came to her desires, he not only encouraged them, he eagerly participated, giving in to her every whim.
Maybe he’d be in a giving mood now.
“I see,” Colin finally said, breaking the quiet. His fingertip softly caressed a circle around her knee. “Would you prefer if I was touching you instead?”
“Well, I-”
Colin dragged his touch up her knee and over her thigh, revelling in the muffled gasp it drew from her lips. The cool texture of this thumb ring tickled as he began to draw patterns into her sensitive skin.
“Are you turned on now?” He could tell she was; goosebumps formed underneath his featherlight touch as Colin etched his name. At the swirl of the ‘n’, he glanced up, and her single nod was all the permission he needed to trail the pressure higher still, leaning forward to whisper against her cheek.
“Should I slip my fingers under this pretty little dress and find out how wet you are?”
Penelope whimpered, pressing forward into his touch.
For a second, she thought he might do just that: dip into the lacey band of her underwear to find her aching and soaked and let her gush all over the rental car’s leather seats in the middle of this empty lookout. Instead, his journey stopped just shy of where she wanted him most, his fingers dragging lightly underneath the ruffled seam of her skirt.
“Patience, Pen,” Colin whispered hotly in her ear. “We have a schedule to keep.”
He pulled away, leaving the top of her thighs tingling, and turned the key in the ignition. The car roared back into life, muffling Penelope’s desperate whine.
Colin’s eyes flickered towards her, narrowed and dark; his gaze down her body sent a shiver hurtling up Penelope’s spine. Then he was moving, leaning towards her across the centre console with a wicked grin, approaching with the same intensity that always made her melt into a puddle. The same heat, fire dancing in his eyes, before they usually found themselves hot and heavy against a doorway, tongues battling for dominance.
Penelope braced, eager and willing to be devoured. Instead, she watched wide-eyed as Colin reached between them to grab the handbrake, running his fingers across the plastic, caressing each indented groove. He fisted the length with his palm, keeping his eyeline on her steady, and softly released the button with his thumb.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Colin murmured. Moving the gear into reverse, his head twisted over their shoulders as the car began moving backwards. One hand lingered on the back of her headrest, the other splayed loosely over the wheel as it circled.
As they returned to the main road, Penelope shielded her eyes from the glare with her shades. Assuming relative safety from the tinted glass, she peeked through, observing Colin’s knuckled grip cycle through the gears until they were back up to speed on the motorway. Transfixed by his movements, her eyes followed the trajectory as Colin brought his fist to rest on her thighs once more.
“Eyes up here, Featherington.”
—
After a long car ride of touches and teasing, Penelope did nothing short of drag Colin through the doorway when they arrived at their hotel room. Her fingers gripped around his hand as she led them inside; her target, the oversized, plush bed in the centre of the room, the tufted headboard stacked with an abundance of oversized pillows.
But Colin had aborted her mission early with a lingering kiss on her forehead, herding her into the porcelain bathroom to get changed for the sailing tour he had booked that afternoon.
As the pearly white catamaran glided over the smooth surface of the water, the heat of the sun beat down on them, breathing new life into stiff limbs. Soft netting cradled their lounging bodies, a fine saltwater mist dusting their backs. Colin let one hand fall over the side, fingertips dipping into the warm sea. A contented sigh sounded from the woman tucked in beside him, her lush form curling further into his.
It was perfect, exactly as he hoped it would be. Better even, now that he had uncovered a new means of torturing Penelope.
Truthfully, she held the cards in this relationship much of the time, reducing him to a sputtering mess anytime she donned something low-cut or skin-tight. The swimsuit she wore today was a prime example: black lycra hugging her curves, boasting a neckline that should be flagged for public indecency. She rarely played fair. With her confession from that morning offering a rare opportunity to gain the upper hand, now neither would he.
And it was glorious.
The drive over provided many an avenue for flaunting his assets, but this boat ride was proving to be particularly delicious in that respect. Applying sunscreen became a performance of sorts, the movement of his hands guiding her enraptured gaze over the planes of his chest, the curve of his shoulder, his not-so-subtly flexed bicep painted in fresh ink. Penelope may have thought she was being coy, but even the dark tint of her sunglasses couldn’t mask the prickle of awareness that shot down his spine whenever her eyes landed on him. A cordial wave in her direction diluted the spell momentarily, earning him a flash of her middle finger, but quickly rebounded as he offered her peachy skin the same attention, massaging the cream onto her tight muscles.
Colin thrived on her heightened responses. For years, he’d craved her attention, greedily devouring every morsel—it was a wonder how he’d ever survived without a steady dose of it. With the keys to capturing this precious commodity quite literally in his hands, he had every intention of using this newfound knowledge to his advantage.
Somehow, the ties on his swim trunks kept coming loose, forcing him to undertake the arduous task of knotting and re-tying them on more than one occasion. A shame that was, but the deep flush colouring her cheeks as she quickly looked away made it well worth the effort.
Upon the delivery of a bottle of chilled champagne, Colin took great care in unwrapping the foil around the top, in twisting off the cage with finesse, in wretching the cork from the bottle with a firm grip. The neck carefully cradled between his fingers, he watched as Penelope stared intently at his hold, taking more than a moment to take the full glass he handed her. Not normally one to be at a loss for words, her garbled mutter of what he presumed to be ‘thanks’ was particularly gratifying.
With every sweep of his fingers and flick of his wrist came the press of her thighs or the flush of her chest, like clockwork.
Smug and drunk on power, he’d managed to charm a crew member into lending him a spare bit of rope he could loop and knot in her periphery. Glancing over from the book she’d purposefully buried her nose in, the tight composure she’d managed to maintain throughout the afternoon finally cracked.
“Oh fuck off,” she said, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head.
His innocence had been well practised over the years. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know what you’re doing.” When he gave her a blank look, she heaved out a sigh, setting down her book and propping herself up on her side. “Knot tying? Really? Where did you even get that thing?”
“One must always be prepared, Pen.” Colin looked off toward the horizon, the corners of his lips turned down in a solemn frown. “People die out here on these rough seas.”
Just as he could feel the blaze of her stare, he could feel the force of her eye roll as she flipped onto her back, deliberately angling her face toward the cloudless sky. He plopped down on the netting beside her, calm waves lapping below as he resumed his self-imposed task. Noticing she hadn’t looked his way in what felt like ages, Colin tucked two fingers under her chin, coaxing her to turn his way.
“Hey, you know I’m just having a bit of fun, yeah?” He stroked the edge of her bottom lip with his thumb until it curved into a small smile. “It’s not every day you find out your girlfriend has a hand kink.”
“It’s not a—!” Realising her protest came in more of a hiss than a whisper, Penelope swivelled her head around in a panic, seemingly searching for disapproving stares or faints of shock from the other guests on board. Her sights were back on him as he failed to contain his bark of laughter.
She poked a sharp nail into his chest. “You are evil.”
Colin wrapped his fingers around hers, noting how small it was in his grasp as he halted her assault. “Ah, it’s just a bit of a tease. I know how much you like those.” Her eyes narrowed on him, her mind clearly at work contemplating how she might toss him overboard without notice.
Concerned for his health, he kissed the pad of the small finger still in his hold. Her gaze softened and he leaned in, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. “Don’t worry, Pen. I fully intend on rewarding you for such remarkable patience.”
He loved being close enough to not only hear her breath hitch but feel it too—that little dip where all her wildest desires lived. Later, when dessert plates were cleared and the lock was thrown on their hotel room door, he’d feed those desires, showing her exactly what his hands could do.
“Just not yet.” With a peck to the tip of her nose, he rolled onto his back, picking up his discarded rope and working it into a clove hitch.
It was official: he was being a complete arse about this.
Penelope eyed Colin over the top of her sunglasses. His face was calm and relaxed as he lazed about, a small tuft of hair poking out beyond the strap of his backwards cap, gently waving in the balmy breeze as his fingers twisted and contorted the length of rope into perfect loops. All innocence as if he hadn’t spent the entire day torturing her. Arsehole. He hadn’t set foot on a working sailboat in years, much less operated one that would require such knot expertise!
Turning back to her novel, she attempted to find the spot where she’d left off. If he wasn’t going to satisfy her, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of working her into a tizzy.
Except he had, utterly and completely. The ache between her legs had gone well beyond simple wants and needs, bordering on depravity. She was seconds away from forcing his hand and performing a number of indecent acts that would have her arrested and thrown from this boat.
Concentrated on the page, she re-read the same paragraph she’d been struggling to retain all afternoon. It took all of ten seconds before her gaze involuntarily shifted away, finding Colin with his hands clenched into taut fists. The crease between his brows deepened as he gave a rough yank to both frayed ends, testing the hold of his knot.
Damn him, she was soaked again.
With no relief in sight and no luck distracting herself, Penelope set her book face down at her side and turned toward him.
“I like how strong they are.”
Colin squinted in her direction, one hand untangling from the rope to shield his eyes from the glaring sun.
“Your hands. You seemed curious before about my…appreciation.” Colin dipped his chin, the full focus of his attention settled on her. “I like that they’re strong enough to wrap around my thighs and lift me up like I’m nothing. How they hold my legs spread while you thrust into me. I like feeling the force of your fingers digging into my skin, leaving bruises behind.”
“Ah,” he breathed, gaze darkening as his sailing project lay forgotten between them.
“I also like how much larger they are than my own.” Penelope let her fingers drift to the edge of her swim top, stroking up and down idly, watching his eyes follow over the swell of her breast. “Cupping my tits easily while my own struggle to contain them. Curling fully around your thick cock, using one hand where I would need two.”
Penelope glanced down, the bulge forming in his black trunks, spurring her on.
“I love how tender they can be, fingers gently threading through my hair while you whisper sweet praises in my ear.” Shifting closer, her fingers lightly traced the space between his thumb and forefinger. “Or giving the ends a nice, rough pull when I’ve been naughty.”
Throat bobbing as he swallowed, the pink tip of Colin’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. She mirrored the action, the subtle seduction working its magic on her as well. “But what I love most is how skilled they are at finding all my spots. Circling just so…” Her fingertips followed her words, drawing soft circles on the back of his hand. “Curling inside of me just right, finding the spot that makes my toes curl and throat raw from screaming.”
Her movements ceased, waiting for his eyes to flick back up and meet hers. “Do you see now? Why it drives me mad just watching them work?” Penelope reached for his fingers, twining them together with hers. “I just want your hands all over me, in every way. Always.”
Lust filled his gaze, deep blue darkening to near black as he hummed in agreement. “I see.”
“Good,” she replied, her tone light and overly chipper as she placed his hand back on his chest, giving it a quick pat as she pulled her sunglasses back down and flipped onto her back. A smirk crept onto her lips as he attempted to adjust himself in the corner of her eye, muttering something about the heat before diving into the water with a splash.
—
Dinner lasted all of twenty minutes, each one spent in utter agony. Penelope thought the evening would be better suited to ordering room service, but Colin had insisted they keep their reservation, his fondness for this specific brand of torture reinvigorated after a lazy afternoon floating in the sea.
She’d come armed with her own defences, selecting a billowy cotton dress that could be deemed rather demure if not for the plunging neckline. Colin had weaknesses just as she did; she’d need to exploit them if she hoped to make it through this dinner.
It started off small, his fingers absently twisting in the chain around his neck as he stared out over the edge of the balcony where they sat. A hand combed through his hair, pushing back the ends curled by warm winds and saltwater away from his face. Fingertips idly rubbed over his toned bicep as he spoke, the pattern of his linen shirt scrunched further with each pass.
All innocent enough, nothing she could point to as clear shenanigans on his part. Penelope thought that perhaps he was done with this little game he’d been playing all day.
A mistake, she realised, as he proceeded to order an array of finger foods for appetisers. He seemed unfazed by the scowl she threw his way, removing his rings with great flourish and failing to hide a smirk.
Creamy dips and sauce-drenched shellfish arrived at their table, and he became a monster, making a great show of licking his fingers and deftly pulling meat from shells. At one point, he let red sauce drip from his fingers down the side of his palm and onto the silver wrapped around his wrist as Penelope followed the journey helplessly.
What a shame that some of that same sauce accidentally spilled into her cleavage and onto her white dress, forcing them to cut the evening short.
Colin had barely flicked on the light in their hotel room when her fingers were on him, tearing at the open collar of his shirt and fumbling to undo the buttons.
His palms found rest on her shoulders as he gently tried to push her back. “Patience, love.”
Penelope grunted as she successfully looped one of the buttons free. “Stop telling me to be patient,” she bristled as she moved swiftly to the next obstacle. “Patience ran out a long time ago.”
Fingers splayed over her hand, halting her undertaking. Penelope glanced up to find Colin smiling down at her as his touch glided across her wrist.
“Just a little longer,” he teased, fingertips trailing lightly down her bare arms, gooseflesh rising in their wake. “You wanted my hands all over you, didn’t you?”
A shiver shot up Penelope’s spine. “Are you done with your teasing?”
Colin flashed her his teeth, halfway between a smug smirk and a devilish grin. “Lie back on the bed.”
Penelope sat on the edge of the plush mattress, kicking off her sandals one by one. Buttery linens caressed her skin as she crawled back, eyes trained on his as they moved to trace a path up her curves. Settled back on the pile of feathery pillows, her gaze dipped lower. She watched rapturously as his fingers carefully worked the remaining buttons free from their holes, more and more tanned skin revealed until his shirt slipped down his arms and onto the floor.
Anticipation bubbled in her chest as Colin knelt at the end of the bed, each of her nerves flaring to life, ready to be rewarded after a day of torment. She bit back a gasp at first contact, a steel cool and familiar grazing her heated skin. His hands curled around her ankles, thumbs idly stroking over the insides. The corners of his lips turned up, soft with a hint of leftover smugness she couldn’t even blame him for.
Sliding under her skirt, Penelope was deprived of seeing his hands in action, guided only by feel as he worked his way up. He was thorough in his exploration, giving her a taste of every kind of touch she craved. Light and teasing as his fingertips tickled the backs of her calves. Firm and commanding as he gripped her knees, nudging them apart so he could journey further. Slow and sensual as he massaged her thighs, her hips rising to chase his caress.
So close now, just when she thought he’d hook his fingers into her soaked knickers to pull them aside, he retreated. An undignified whine sprang from her throat. “You promised.”
“I did no such thing,” he quipped, reaching for the hem of her dress.
“You know,” he began, hands skimming up the outsides of her legs, taking her skirt with him. “There’s parts of you that drive me to madness, too.
“Your soft skin,” he murmured, leaving small kisses on every newly-exposed swathe.
“These thighs…fuck, these thighs,” He gave them a squeeze, spreading her further to wedge himself between them. “And in between.” Fabric bunched up around her waist, he briefly pressed his lips to her lace-covered mound, fingers pressed into the meat of her hips to hold her still.
Sitting back on his knees, he continued up, palms smoothing up her sides. “But you already know my greatest weakness,” he said, the sweep of his thumbs stopping just below her breasts, brushing the undersides. “Don’t you?
“Teasing me all day in that swimsuit, and now this dress…” Looming over her, he ran one finger back and forth along the plunging neckline, briefly diverting to trace the border of the large red stain covering her bodice.
“A shame about that completely accidental spill.” A smirk graced his lips, widening into a smug grin as Penelope tried and failed to pull him closer. Something shifted in his expression, something dark clouding that mischievous glimmer as he hooked his finger into the V that covered her chest, tugging at the soiled cotton. “Do you reckon it’s ruined?”
“Completely.”
Permission given, Colin gripped firmly at the fabric with both hands, knuckles turning white and veins popping along the backs as he yanked the seam apart. The sound of threads splitting mixed with a sharp, pleased grunt, the raw carnality of it all pooling low in her belly.
For a moment, all he did was look at her, admiring his handiwork and making her squirm under his attention. While Penelope contemplated the many ways in which she might force his hand, his began to move, removing his rings one by one.
“Here,” he said, reaching for her left hand. Carefully, he placed the too-large bands around her small fingers. “Hold onto these for me, yeah?”
Kissing her palm, he folded her fingers into a loose fist, gently resting it back over her heart. “My hands are full.”
A groan formed in her throat at his dumb joke, but spilled out as a keening moan as he brusquely pushed the tattered remains of her dress aside and finally covered her with both hands. He kneaded and massaged, slow and purposeful, the tips of his fingers dimpling her flesh as he squeezed. Penelope luxuriated in his touch, the roughness of his palms grazing over her taut skin as much a relief as it was fuel, thrown on a fire just beginning to burn.
Her perked nipples poked through the gaps between his fingers, the tips pinched as he brought them together. Her lips parting for a sharp intake of air, he soothed the sting with light sweeps of his thumb, a tease and a balm all at once. Colin often did that, lulling her into a false sense of comfort with soft touches and tender words before surprising her with a brutishness that left her gasping and begging for more.
She did just that on his next unexpected pull, her breath catching, nails digging into the heel of her own palm and sinking into the hard muscle of his bicep that she gripped for purchase. A contented hum rumbled from his chest as he slid down the bed, lying snugly between her legs.
Penelope let her eyes drift shut, savouring the sensation of his touch alone—the delightful grate of his prickly stubble on her skin, the soft pillow of his lips peppering her breasts with sweet kisses, his hands never leaving her. Even with the warm embrace of his mouth wrapped around her nipple, his fingers continued to work, rolling the hard tip on the opposite side. His other hand stayed busy as well, lifting and angling to bring her more fully into his mouth. Those flickering flames had grown to a steady roar.
The hot stir of his tongue had her clenched fist unravelling. His loose-fitting rings slipped down her knuckles, one falling away completely as she thrust her fingers into his hair, holding him close. The deft swirl of his fingers had her back arched, the steel band rolling down her sternum, lost between their bodies. His low growl had her dizzy, searching and begging him, “More.”
Releasing his lips around her nipple with an audible smack, Colin complied. His mouth trailed down her stomach, his fingers following the same path of wet kisses. His nails dug crescents into the dip of her waist, soothing the sting as they caressed over the flare of her hip bones.
Penelope’s knees fell naturally to the sides, beckoning his body closer as Colin settled between her legs. He couldn’t resist the temptation before him; her bare thighs all spread before him, her growing need for him evident through the soaked fabric. As his mouth settled over her mound to taste, Colin felt a sharp tug on the locks in his hair.
“Penelope,” Colin warned, hot breath tickling through the material. He found her darkened eyes over the curve of her stomach. “Hands where I can see them.”
There was a long, elongated groan, and then the pressure on his head lifted.
With a final kiss to the lace, Colin pulled away, eyes raking appreciation over her form. What a sight she was: pale skin, tinged pink from the sun, her hair tousled against the crisp, white sheets. Her body, bare and beautiful, spread, waiting and aching to be touched. Rings long forgotten, her small hands lingering next to her breasts, caught in indecision.
“Play with them,” Colin commanded, marvelling at how her blushed skin deepened at the gravel in his voice. “I like watching your hands work, too.”
She took one in each hand, skin spilling out of her tiny fingers; she could barely contain them in her grasp. Colin allowed himself a moment of hunger to watch as she massaged each one slowly, rolling the flesh and teasing her nails across each saliva-slickened nub. She caught his eyes with a sinful stare and pinched, her muffled whine sending a bolt of desire directly to his cock.
As her hips arched off the mattress, Colin finally looped his fingers into each side of the lace. The journey down was agonisingly slow, pulling the fabric down her legs inch by torturous inch. The teasing was worth it; his reward was another muffled whine. Every noise escaping from her clenched lips was becoming increasingly high-pitched.
“Colin, please,” Penelope pleaded as she squeezed her legs together, urging him to remove the final barrier between them.
The toes on her dainty feet curled as he finally brushed past them, flinging the drenched fabric somewhere behind him into their hotel room. Gazing up her squirming form, Colin began the leisurely return journey. He took just as much time travelling in this direction, pausing as he pressed soft kisses to each ankle, licking stripes up her calves and nuzzling on the inside of her knee. His palms massaged all the way up the muscle of her tensed legs, ignoring every single one of Penelope’s desperate whimpers.
“Spread for me, baby,” Colin cooed when he finally reached the top. He pushed down on her thigh, opening her even wider. “Let me see how wet you are.”
Penelope widened her legs willingly, thighs already soaked and coated with her arousal. A shudder ran down her spine as cold metal indented onto her opposite leg, pushing down and revealing even more of her glistening skin. She watched with bated breath as Colin reached for her, unable to resist any longer. He dipped into her folds, tracing and coating his fingers with her slick.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he continued to play, spreading the edge of her lips apart.
“Colin,” Penelope pleaded, her hoarse voice beginning to croak.
She was way past begging at this point. Colin had strung her to the very edge all day with just a few simple touches and heated stares. Her thighs were still burnt from where his thumb had traced patterns on her skin the entire journey. That stupid rope, his hands twisting through the threads, heating her skin under the sunshine. The way his tongue had curled around his digits at dinner, licking over each knuckle.
And now, his fingers dragged her pussy wide, so undeniably close to where she needed him.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Penelope struggled under his pinned weight, desperately trying to push her hips into his touches. Colin’s blue gaze watched her closely, examining every twitch her body betrayed. His eyes worshipped her, mouth humming his approval as his undivided attention glided over every inch of her tingling skin.
“Please. I need- I need-”
“What do you need, Pen?” Colin purred, voice sickly sweet as he hovered inches from her, whispering into her cunt. His hand continued to drag over her slick, admiring the sheen coating each finger pad. He grinned devilishly as he pressed a single digit into her opening, earning himself another muffled cry from her lips.
Colin hummed appreciatively. “Do you need my fingers?” He pressed in further; at knuckle deep, he received a sharp gasp, and when he finally twisted, searching for that spot inside that always had her toes curling off the bed, mouth opening into a scream, Colin got his favourite response of all: the sound of her moan reverberating around the room.
“Or perhaps you need my tongue?” Breath tickled directly over her sex as he moved forward. He blew another line of air until she shuddered underneath him, clenching around his finger. Then his tongue peeked out between smirking lips, and the single flick directly over her clit sent Penelope flailing. Her fingers fell from her breasts to grasp at the bedsheets for stability.
“Fuck!” Penelope tried to buck against his mouth, but Colin’s strong palm kept her steady against the plush mattress. His tongue licked over her again, and her head thudded back into the pillow. “Both,” she whined, squirming to meet his mouth. “Both, Colin, please…”
A slap across her clit had her gasping, eyes snapping open.
“Greedy girl,” Colin said darkly. He pulled his finger out, taking a moment to admire the sticky sheen coating the skin, then plunged it back inside, a second joining the first.
Whimpers morphed into desperate pants as he scissored her open with two fingers, pumping them in and out steadily and curling at the knuckle. Colin’s other hand stayed splayed over her sex, thumb rubbing against her skin just north of where she was twitching with need.
“You take my fingers so well,” Colin purred as he pulsed his fingers even deeper. The sounds he was making, the sounds he was creating with her, were positively erotic. His thumb moved ever so slightly, skimming over her sensitive clit, and Penelope wailed, clamping down like a vice.
His moan was as ragged as hers. “Fuck. I can feel you squeezing them so tightly.” That didn’t deter his motions; if anything, it encouraged a faster pace, thumb and fingers working in tandem to draw out another cry. Colin kept her hovering at the precipice, grinning wickedly as her eyes rolled back into her skull and her grip grew white-knuckle tight.
“Can you take another?”
Her nod was wild and frantic and immediate. A third finger joined the others, the burn of the tight intrusion blending into pleasure as they thrust inside. Colin was playing her like his own personal instrument, three fingers stretching her open in a steady, pounding rhythm, thumb strumming roughly over her clit.
Penelope couldn’t do much more than close her eyes, scrunch the sheets in her fists and wail, praises slipping from her tongue in incoherent babble, joining the cacophony of moans and heavy breaths echoing around the room. Her heartbeat was drumming down her spine as he encouraged her closer, fingers hooking deep inside. And when he played the final note over her clit, she screamed in crescendo, her release gushing between them onto the fresh, crisp linen.
Gasping in a lungful of air, Penelope’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. Her thighs ached, burning from being spread open so wide for so long, but she already missed the stretch as Colin slowly withdrew his fingers, moving backwards off the bed.
Blinking her eyes open, Penelope watched with hooded eyes as Colin stood before her, bringing his hand drenched with her cum towards his mouth. One finger slipped between his parted lips, and he moaned around it, lapping at the taste.
“You are insatiable,” he told her hungrily as he stared down at her flushed body, twisted against the sheets.
He replaced the first with the next, holding her heated stare as he dragged his mouth over the knuckle, savouring every last drop. He repeated the same motion for the remaining fingers, tongue lapping over every crease. Then, once he had devoured all of her release from his skin, Colin swapped hands, sucking his thumb between his lips as his clean fingers dropped towards his waistband.
Still in a daze, Penelope watched as those fingers, the ones that had just been inside her, the ones licked clean by his tongue, the ones that made her so easily come undone, worked to undo his belt buckle. His fingertips still shone with a bit of saliva as he eased the silver prong from one of the holes. Colin took hold of the end, yanking the strap through the loops of his trousers in one go. At the definitive whoosh and crack of leather, her eyes popped wide, a gasp that sounded an awful lot like her own joining the chorus.
She tried to take in the whole of him, never more beautiful than in the moments after he’d made her come, but found herself distracted. Still in hand, he carefully wound the band of the belt around his knuckles, tanned skin popping out against black leather. That wrapped hand slid down, her eyes following as he palmed over the ridge in his trousers, the khaki fabric struggling to contain him. Her thighs instinctively moved to press together, hindered by his own where he sat in between.
Pulled from her singular focus by his quiet chuckle, she slid her gaze up to his, eyes dancing with pride and clouding with heat. He leaned in, his leather-bound knuckles tucking under her chin, tilting her face up so their lips could meet. He kissed her with care, lips pressing to hers like he sought to memorise their shape, giving her a taste of her own pleasure as his tongue slipped inside.
When he retreated, she licked her lips, still craving the flavour of them together. Tossing the belt to the floor, Colin rolled to sit beside her, pushing his khakis and boxer briefs down at the waist, kicking them off and shoving them from the edge of the bed. Reaching for her wrist, he tugged her to him, silently beaconing her to find a home on his lap.
There were few things Colin enjoyed more than the sight of his Penelope, beautifully bare and skin glimmering with the sheen of a fresh orgasm, straddling him. Wetness coating the insides of her thighs and dripping onto his own, tits pressed against his chest, her face level with his and perfect for kissing—the combination of it all was intoxicating.
But something else had him transfixed at this very moment. Something about the way her mouth gaped, the way her fingers danced down his stomach where his cock lay hard and waiting for her, the way the fire behind her eyes flared as his left hand wrapped around the base.
She looked wild. All day he had been putting on a show for her, relishing in how a single part of him could make the whole of her unnerved, seeing just how far he could push. But only now did he truly see what he did to her. Well beyond simple lust, she was untamed in her want, her desire unabashed. He pulled at the thread, hoping for her to unravel, and instead, he’d also uncovered a secret part of her he never knew. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again.
Free hand raising to her lips, Colin traced the border with his thumb, indulging himself as much as he did her. Slipping the digit past her parted lips, she took him readily, the sinful swirl of her tongue turning each of his muscles to stone.
Hard and throbbing in his own hand, he felt her dainty fingers curl around his shaft. Firm and soft all at once, she moved with him. Maybe she was onto something with this hand thing. Long, sure strokes quickened his breath. A deft sweep of her thumb over the tip loosened a groan from deep in his chest. He wouldn’t last.
Especially not when she was guiding his cock towards her core, both hands squeezing firmly around his length. The thread of Colin’s control loosened as the head notched at her slick entrance, and his face fell into the crook of her shoulder, taking comfort in the soft embrace of her hair.
“Shit, Pen,” he mouthed at her neck, lapping at the salty skin from the earlier sea breeze. Penelope’s mouth curved into a perfect circle as she sunk down slowly, head tipped back into a wordless moan.
He would never tire of this feeling, burrowing into her perfect heat, her plush thighs bracketed against his legs as she stretched around him. Their joint groans echoed in the dimly lit hotel room. Chests pressed flush together, the beat of their hearts thumping in sync.
No matter where they were, it always felt like coming home.
When her full weight had settled over his lap and his cock was buried deep inside, Penelope’s fingers began to move. They started at the base of his neck, teasing over his sculpted shoulders and lingering on the swell of his arms. She took her time exploring each chiselled ridge of his bare chest, dragging her nails through soft hair. The thin loop of silver chain acted as her guide, leading her touches further down.
When she scratched over each nipple, Colin jerked upwards with a sharp thrust, catching her off balance. She fell slightly forward, seizing each pectoral between her palms, her muffled squeal matching the creak of the mattress below them.
Eager to feel every inch of her smooth skin, Colin’s hands began to move, too. He adjusted his cradle around her arse to flay across her hips, softly rocking her against his length. Penelope stifled a giggle as his touches reached the curve of her stomach and hummed in appreciation as he took hold of each breast, cupping the weight. Penelope shuddered when his thumbs grazed over her raised skin in retaliation.
As his mouth found hers, stealing her gasps and pressing soft kisses to the edge of her lips, Colin’s fingers carried upwards and upwards until they found the edge of her tangled hair. He paused at the base of her neck, palms stilling against her collarbone.
“Is this okay?” Colin whispered against her mouth. His eyes, darkened in the lamp light, flickered over her features, searching for any signs of stress. When he found none, his fingerprints pressed slowly, softly indenting into her skin.
Penelope released a sharp gasp. “Yes,” she breathed. Her head nodded frantically, encumbered as Colin’s hold curled further around her throat. The pressure around her windpipe increased, and she squeezed him back, core clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.
She was utterly at his mercy. The hands she had been fantasising about all day, fingers that had explored every inch of her body until she had become a puddle against the bedsheets, were literally stealing her breath away. She wanted more. She craved more; there was no one else in the world she could trust to make her feel this way.
Wanting to be even closer, Penelope reached up, finding stability on his shoulders as she rocked up and down. It was sticky and messy, the glide of his length between her slick, and when the head of his cock pressed precisely where she needed him most, she cried out, arching her spine. The grip around her throat tightened.
Colin could feel the vibrations of her moans as he pressed grooves into her neck. He met her thrust for thrust, using his grip to guide her back down on his cock over and over again. The pressure was dizzying, the tight hold her pussy had over him almost too much to bear.
He gazed at her flushed face, mesmerised by her pleasure. The way the short, stuttered gasps slipped past her lips as he choked her. How her blue eyes, flecked irises swallowed by black, rolled backwards and then scrunched together as their momentum grew. He waited until the last possible moment, until he felt the pinch of her sharp nails embedding into his skin, to finally release his hold.
Penelope sucked in a lungful of air and gulped down precious oxygen. “Colin,” she whined, dragging out the syllables. Her pace did not slow as she chased the delicious friction settling between them.
“I got you, baby.”
Finding her fists on his shoulder, Colin gently lifted them off, staring momentarily. Their size difference had always been staggering; his thick fingers easily swallowed her tiny palms. He enclosed their hands, threaded their fingers, brought them upright between them, then moved his mouth back to her neck. He left kisses along her skin, soothing the sting of the red marks his fingerprints had left behind.
“I love how much you love this,” he murmured after leaving a final lingering press on her collarbone. He squeezed their fingers together and met her dazed eyes with a smirk. “I love your hand kink.”
Penelope let out a soft laugh, which quickly morphed into a long, guttural whine as Colin angled his hips just so, the base of his length grazing against her clit.
“Fuck,” he grunted, thrusts increasing. “And I love how you feel around my cock.”
Colin’s gaze trailed between their connected hands, and his hungry eyes lingered on her chest. “I love watching your beautiful tits bounce too,” he told her, unable to stop the grin forming on his face when another moan fell from her mouth, his name on the edge of her tongue. “And I love all those noises you make.”
God, she was gorgeous. She was right there; he could feel it, and he couldn’t stave off this orgasm for much longer, either. He had been holding out for so long, intent on ensuring Penelope stayed on the edge with him as long as possible. But everything right now felt so warm and tight and right. Her scent, her skin, her smile. Everything about this moment, about every moment he had ever had with Penelope, was so perfect.
“Pen,” Colin groaned, finally letting himself go. “Shit, baby, I’m so in love with you.”
Penelope’s eyes popped open in shock as Colin’s hips stuttered against hers, warmth spilling inside. Her surprised face dissolved into a stunning smile as she joined him in her own release, thighs quaking and body spasming against his. She clutched onto his hands, and he gripped hers back just as tightly as they finally catapulted over the edge, together.
Sliding down the headboard until they each melted into the cushy mattress, Colin reached for the corner of the sheet, careful not to disturb the delicate tangle of limbs joined together as he draped the linen over their cooling bodies. Pulses of pleasure ebbing into contentment, a renewed warmth bloomed deep in her chest as Penelope watched their interwoven fingers rise and fall with the steadying of his breath. The need for sleep fought against the electrifying joy surging through her veins. He loved her.
With the last dregs of her fading energy, Penelope moved her free hand to his chest, tracing over the spot that thrummed beneath her fingers. The tip of her finger dipped and curled, drawing a heart over his, whispering into it as she drifted off to sleep, “I love you too.”
—
The entire weekend had been glorious.
And now, with the sun high in the sky, warming their bodies through the windscreen, they were in for another perfect day.
Penelope had been unable to wipe the smile from her face as they drove back along the mountain road, the landscape seeming greener and lusher on this pass. Her body felt dazed and lucid, thoroughly satisfied yet still aching for more. She could still feel where Colin’s stubble had grazed her cheeks, her neck, the valley between her breasts and the heat between her thighs, whispering love confessions against her skin in the soft light of this morning's sunrise.
Feeling a warmth pool in her chest, Penelope glanced towards him. This time, she wasn’t bothering to hide anything. Her sunglasses remained perched on the top of her hair, pinning her blonde streaks out of her face as she ogled her boyfriend, hungry eyes trailing over every inch of skin. She couldn’t help it; it was like a guiding light, the way the sunshine glinted off the silver of his chain, nestled in the dusting of soft curls revealed by one too many missing shirt buttons.
When Colin’s hand wrapped around the gearstick, the glimmer of the metal around his fingers caught her eyes, too.
“How long is the drive?” Penelope asked suddenly.
Colin scrunched up his nose as he glanced sideways to check the navigation. “Couple of hours,” he responded, resetting his grip on the steering wheel. “Why?”
The car jerked slightly to the side as Penelope’s nimble fingers dipped under the waistband of his shorts. She had the button unthreaded and fly unzipped before Colin realised what was happening. Then, without warning, she pulled him out of his underwear, her small hand struggling to wrap entirely around his length.
“Wait, Pen,” Colin hissed as she squeezed tightly around the base.
“Eyes on the road, Bridgerton,” Penelope teased as she stretched over her seat, lowering her lips towards the head of his hardening cock. “It’s my turn now.”