Chapter Text
Colin watched with a smile as Penelope ran with open arms towards his ship. Their ship now, he should say.
He never saw anything as beautiful as her. The sight of her—all flushed cheeks, hair blowing in the wind, smile the biggest he has ever seen, and eyes full of emotion—made him sigh happily as he ran after her so he could help her aboard.
After leaving their small room at the inn, they met with his crew so he could introduce them to Penelope and let them know he had to do something before they could sail away. Unsurprisingly, they all took quickly to her, probably sensing how important she was to him.
Once they parted, she took him to her little spot so she could bring some of the things she would most miss if left behind—mostly her books and some items that had more emotional value.
Colin was impressed with what he saw. Clearly, Penelope spent a lot of time in this place (full of books, flowers, and trinkets, each telling a story), for he never felt such a homely feeling before. Not since his own home, at least. He could not wait to see what she would do with their quarters.
They had talked and decided to leave a note for her family so they would not worry too much about what happened to her. Sadly, she did not think anyone would miss her that much (which astonished him because who would not miss her? Penelope was happiness personified). Truthfully, Colin wanted to meet them himself as he felt it was the honorable thing to do, but Penelope was terrified of her mother stopping her from going with him. In the end, he relented, and they settled on leaving a note for them.
(Coming from a happy home, Colin could not imagine his family not missing him. Despite some of their issues, they were now much better at communicating during his travels and very adamant—his mother especially—about knowing where in the world he was.)
And now, here they were. The start of their new life together.
His mind was going through a list of every little thing they would need, every little thing he wanted to buy for her so she could be comfortable. Clothes, more books if she so wished, whatever pastries she wanted to try. Would she like some ink and parchment so she could begin writing as well?
(And perhaps a ring. He should definitely go back home as soon as he could for that.)
Penelope shyly confessed to him about her love for writing when they were retrieving her items. He was not surprised. With her brilliant mind and love for reading, of course she would be talented at writing too.
He felt a little pang at his chest. But soon he was pulled away from it when he heard her voice.
“Colin! Come, show me our room!” She was grabbing his hands, and he let her pull him along with a smile on his lips.
When they arrived at his quarters—now theirs—he felt a little embarrassed. It was not much, especially after he saw her own place. He felt a little scared that he would not be able to provide her with what she needed.
But of course she surprised him. She always did.
She threw herself on the bed, face first.
“This has to be the coziest place I have ever been to!” Turning over and biting her lips, she called to him, one arm stretched so he could take her hand. “Come lie with me, please.”
She did not have to ask him twice. Taking his boots off, he immediately took her hand, lying down beside her and bringing her near so she could lie on his chest, head tucked under his chin.
Exchanging caresses anywhere they could reach, she broke the silence first.
“This is perfect, you know,” she lifted her head, one hand reaching for his cheeks, running her thumb over it. “Anywhere with you is.”
Before he could answer, she lifted herself from his chest, sitting astride him, his hands immediately finding purchase on her ass, fingers burying themselves into her skin (he would never grow tired of the little gasp she let out when he did that). With short arms on each side of his head, trying to cage him, she brought her lips to his in a lazy kiss, grinding against him, his blood quickly rushing to his cock.
Sometimes he wondered if he should be concerned about how easily his cock would stand to attention when near her. Surely he was too old to be in this constant state of arousal, but if anyone could bring it out of him, it would be her.
Penelope whispered against his lips as she parted from him, “I need to feel you inside me.”
They made quick work of their clothes after that, resuming their positions.
Clearly not wanting to waste any time, Penelope brought her hands to his length, biting her lips and trying not to smile at finally being able to see and feel him again. That was another thing he learned about her. Not only she loved his cum (and to be covered in it), but she loved the sight of his cock as well. The sight, the feel, the taste… before they left the inn, she confessed to him in an embarrassed little voice how much she craved him all the time. If she could have her way, they would still be there, discovering new ways to bring out pleasure from one another.
Honestly, Colin felt much the same; he was quick to reassure her. He loved it that she craved him just as much.
His memories very soon were forgotten when he felt her warmth once again. Being inside Penelope quickly became one of the best feelings in the world for him. Second only to the feeling of making her laugh, bringing her the happiness she so deserved.
Dainty hands pressed against his muscular chest, her body bounced on top of his as he tried his best to help her. If only his hands would stop their wandering. Her thighs, her hips, her ass. He wanted to bury his hands everywhere at once.
He then made his way through the now familiar path towards her breasts. So full, so pleasing to look at, he thought as he squeezed them, playing with her nipples and being rewarded with the most enticing sounds he ever heard.
Colin knew he would never get enough of her.
He inhaled sharply when she brought one of her hands to his neck, pressing lightly. Her lips parted as she stared at him with those seductive eyes of hers.
As if daring him to stop her.
As if he would ever.
“Please, Penelope,” he sounded breathless to his own ears, words probably not making sense anymore. She pressed a little harder, not enough to cut his air, but enough to make its presence known. He never thought being at the mercy of someone else could feel so good. Maybe it was because of who he was at the mercy of.
And she seemed to enjoy being in control of him if the loud moan she let out was any indication.
Her bouncing became more frantic as he let himself be pulled up by her, feeling her whisper against his lips. “Come for me, Colin,” kisses trailing down his jaw. “I wish to bring you pleasure as well.”
With as much strength as he had left, he brought his fingers to her clit, rubbing quick little circles (which earned him a surprised cry).
Feeling his impeding orgasm, he pulled away from her as his fingers kept moving.
“Penelope, I should—"
“Stay,” she silenced him with a kiss. “Please, stay,” her breathless whisper against his lips.
Brows pinched; he dissolved into pleasure, succumbing to her wishes. To her.
Her own orgasm was right behind his, almost as if the feeling of him coming inside her tipped her over the edge. Her cries (and the feeling of her cunt squeezing around him) made him hold onto her a little harder, bringing her closer to him—eyes closed, catching their breath, foreheads touching—as they lost themselves on one another.
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“Come here,” he whispered in a raspy voice, getting up from the bed and bringing her with him so he could kneel before her.
Hands ran from her calves to her thighs and around her ass. Everywhere he could touch her soft skin. His lips pressed kisses against her belly as she caressed his curls.
“I wish to try something,” his voice muffled against her skin. “May I?” He asked as he looked up at her.
Once she nodded, he brought his hands down—one of them bringing a leg over his shoulder, exposing herself to his hungry eyes. Gently spreading her lips with his thumbs, he kissed her clit and began lapping at her, cleaning her of his cum.
Penelope let out a high-pitched cry, one of her hands tugging painfully at his hair to bring him closer, the other taking his place, spreading her lips for him. With his hands now free, he returned them to their rightful place on her ass, bringing her closer so he could devour her at his leisure.
He could sense that she was close as her cries grew more urgent, so he pulled away to whisper against her cunt be a good girl and give me what I want knowing it was her weakness. Her hips grinded against his tongue, letting her orgasm wash over her wave after wave.
Wanting to please her more (and not being able to help himself), he got up and kissed her, allowing her to taste them together. Her satisfied moan almost brought him to his knees once again.
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“What is that?”
Looking at what she was pointing at, he tensed. Not knowing what to say, he tried his best to make it seem less than what it actually was. “It is nothing of importance, just some notes from my travels.”
He should have known better. He should have known that she would never let it go now.
“Can I see it?” Her blue eyes seemed so big, so earnest. Her lips forming a pout that he wanted to kiss away. And then the last straw. “Please?”
With a heavy sigh, he got up to gather one of his journals from his desk and brought it back to her. Barely having time to overthink it, she took it from him, eyes scanning the pages with impressive speed. His fingers flexed against his sides as he watched her.
“These are just some notes I make whenever I want to remember something I saw, something I thought was special.”
He hoped he was being discreet in trying to make her let it go. He probably was not; after all, she was very observant. When did she ever not notice something in the short time they met?
“Colin, this is…” Yes, there it is. He braced himself for whatever she was going to say. “This is the best thing I have ever read!”
Eyes lifted to his face—so wide and so, so blue—her mouth parted in a little ‘o’ as if she could not believe what she just read.
He felt giddy. He tried his best to suppress his smile, but it took over his face anyway.
“Th-that is very nice of you to say, Penelope. I do not write professionally or anything but—"
“Well, you should,” she said in a final tone. No opening for arguments.
As much as he felt self-conscious about his writing, her praise made him feel on top of the world. If Penelope thought it was good, so talented and well-read as she was, then maybe…
“I will think about it,” his voice playful, not ready to admit to his insecurities just yet. They had all the time in the world to talk about that.
He smoothed the little pout from her lips with his thumb, then took his journal from her hands and put it back on the desk, returning to her immediately. Jumping on the bed (the squeal she let out was delightful as always), his hands circled around her body, bringing her to lie on top of him. Her warmth brought him a pleasant sense of calmness.
Fingers threading through her curls, he felt her yawn against his skin. Probably tired from all of their activities, he thought with a smirk.
Hugging her body against his, he left a kiss on top of her head, allowing himself to succumb to sleep as well.
The last thoughts on his mind were of how he could not wait to share a life with her. Of the adventures they would have together.
Of how home was now with Penelope.
Home was anywhere with Penelope.