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In the weeks after the Butterfly Ball, Colin and Penelope were in, what many would consider, a honeymoon period. They had been indisposed and absent from all of society for over two weeks and, though of course it was never outright discussed, many of the ton believed they knew exactly what the couple was doing. They could not have been more wrong.
It had begun the morning after the ball when Colin and Penelope had woken up in each other's arms for the very first time. Penelope felt a peace wash over her now that the issues between them had been resolved… or so she thought. She looked over Colin’s, her husband’s, sleeping form. It felt so strange and indulgent to see him like this, like something she shouldn't be seeing, a forbidden, secret look through a glass window across the street. But there was no glass separating them, no street to divide them, not anymore. He was hers to look at, to enjoy, to love in their home. What a strange journey they had both been on to get to this point but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret any of it. She was happy now and that was what mattered.
Watching as he began to stir, slowly waking, she felt a need rise within her, a need to be connected to him, like they had been last night. Leaning down to give her husband a good morning kiss, she expected him to wake with a blissful smile on his face, just like she had.
Instead, his eyes went wide and he pulled away from her completely, jumping out of the bed awkwardly.
“Is something wrong, Colin?”
He was standing in front of her, completely naked and seemingly dazed, as if he were unsure where he was. Penelope began to wonder if he had forgotten what happened last night. Perhaps he thought they were still at odds, maybe he was wondering why he was in their bed at all. Was he upset that he had woken up next to her? That she had kissed him? Covering herself as she sat up, she felt heavily exposed and wondered what in the world to say to the man in front of her.
Her voice broke a little as she asked, “Do you—do you remember last night?”
“Of course I do.” His face was one of confusion. Penelope imagined what a sight they must be, her with a thin sheet barely covering her naked form, him standing stark naked in front of her, both of them looking utterly bewildered at the other, as if they weren’t even speaking the same language.
“Then why did you leap out of bed as if you had been discovered somewhere you should not have been? As if this was not our marital bed?” Penelope cannot understand how things went from the bliss of waking up in his arms to the confusion and worry she felt now in just a matter of moments.
“I—I was just—I was surprised is all. I am not used to waking with another in my bed.” Penelope winced at the reminder of the distance between them over the weeks since their marriage, how last night was the first night they had lain together since the day after their engagement. For the first time since Colin had found out about Whistledown, Penelope had felt they were truly a couple, an entity of their own, separate from their families or their histories. She was now cruelly reminded of how much they still had to learn about being together, about being one.
“That is… reasonable. I am sorry for startling you.” A sinking feeling settled within her, one of loneliness, a feeling she thought she had escaped by leaving the Featherington house, but one she had found even at their home in Bloomsbury over the last few weeks. She had hoped, after their confession last night and an evening spent in each other’s arms, that the loneliness would abate. With Colin by her side, she had hoped to finally feel true love and even true companionship.
The loneliness had now returned and she began to worry about her future with it. Would she end up like her mother? In a loveless marriage, except worse still because she did truly love her husband but he would not allow her to show it? Would not allow her little indulgences like morning kisses without acting as if she had committed some offensive, improper act?
“Pen, I am the one who should apologize. I do not know—I am as new to marriage as you are and considering the… strange start to our marriage, I simply need some time to adjust is all.” A charming smile spread across his face but Penelope could see how it did not reach his eyes. The mask that she had seen when he first came back from his travels was back; he was hiding from her and perhaps even himself.
“I understand.” It was all she could say without bursting into tears. She wanted to curl up and hold herself as she wept but desired to avoid the embarrassment of doing so in front of Colin. Mortified enough for the first fifteen minutes of the day, she waited and watched as Colin gathered some of his clothes, got dressed, and left without a word. Just as the door clicked closed, the tears fell and she did not leave the bed for a long while.
Penelope did not see Colin again for several hours. By the time she made it to breakfast, he had already absconded to another part of the house. She ate her meal in silence; her mind racing as it ruminated on the odd way the day had begun. The longer she sat and stewed, the more angry she became. Colin had made her promises that he had yet to keep; just last night he had told her he loved her and they had joined together. She felt more connected to him then ever as they reached heights of pleasure she had not believed were possible. She was at peace in his arms; she felt she was finally home.
Now, she wondered whether it all had been a mirage, whether she had been naive to think one conversation could repair the damage they had inflicted on one another. Perhaps their love was broken from the beginning, doomed to fail due to its shaky start. She had always believed that she and Colin were destined to fall apart, she built for him and him built for another, but she had gained hope when he had confessed his feelings to her that she had been wrong all those years. Perhaps, she and Colin were built to be together. With the events of the last few weeks, that hope had been hanging by a thread and now with his current behavior, the thread was razor thin.
She continued to agonize over the precarious nature of her marriage throughout the morning as she moved from room to room in their home. She sat in the drawing room for some time with a book. Then, she moved to the study and began to write, not quite knowing whether she was writing for Whistledown or her own enjoyment. Once she became tired of using her wit to write clever turns of phrase, she went out to their garden and admired the lovely weather that directly contrasted with her own downtrodden mood.
It was in the light of the sun that she had an epiphany on the morning’s events. The primary failure of the start of her relationship with Colin, in her mind at least, was a lack of communication. She had not divulged her secret double life as Whistledown and Colin had not expressed his jealousy at her success. They both had wanted a marriage and life of love together but could not agree on what that life would look like and they did not bother to discuss it any further. If they had simply spoken about these things sooner, perhaps their marriage could have started on more stable ground. Penelope and Colin both had a way with words, a way with expression, and yet they failed to use those talents with each other.
Now was not the time to shut each other out. With a new determination, Penelope sought Colin out, finding him in the study where she had spent hours writing earlier. He had likely snuck in as soon as she had left. She announced her arrival with a cough and a loud closing of the door.
“Penelope! I can leave if you have need of this room.”
“I have need of my husband.”
His face fell, clearly hoping to avoid conversation with her a little longer.
“What do you require of me?” He glanced down nervously at his feet, avoiding eye contact.
“I demand an explanation.” She noticed how he fidgeted with his hands, a regular tic for him when he was unsure or nervous.
“An explanation for what?”
“For your behaviour this morning, for your avoidance of me in this house over the last several hours. I must know what is wrong so that we can begin to fix it.”
“Nothing is wrong, Pen.” His voice trailed off, almost as if he did not believe the words, even as he said them.
“Colin, did you mean what you said last night? About loving me and soaking up my light? Or are you reconsidering an annulment?”
“No! I mean yes! Yes to the first part and no to the second. Oh god, I've bungled all of this haven't I?” He sank down into the desk chair and slumped his head forward into his open hands. Penelope noticed his chest begin to heave and realised he was crying. She felt her body begin to tingle, in sadness? In excitement? In anticipation? In want? She was not sure but she knew that if she allowed whatever this was to fester between them, they may truly never recover.
“Colin, stand up!”
His head shot up and his glassy eyes were boring into her, clearly surprised at her sudden volume and command. He scooted back his chair and rose to his feet. Penelope let out a breath at his obedience. The tingling grew stronger and her body began to feel weightless, like she might fly away at the slightest of breezes.
“You must tell me what is wrong. Right now.”
The tears well up in Colin’s eyes again, threatening to fall down his red stained cheeks. “I am a terrible husband to you.”
“You are not! You—”
“I treated you horribly for weeks. I refused to listen to your explanations for Whistledown. I wasted time that we could have spent together.” The pain was etched across his face, the regret and self-loathing weighing him down, slumping his shoulders, and squashing out the bright light of him. He looked like a shell of himself.
“Colin, I do not blame you for that. You were perfectly justified in being upset. It was a difficult situation that we both needed to work through.”
“Penelope, I do not wish for your empathy. I do not deserve it.”
“You would rather I tell you all the ways in which you are awful?”
“Yes.”
Penelope stepped back, too stunned to respond. He looked so wretched before her, as if he wished the ground to swallow him whole. What happened to the sweet, quiet confidence he’d had at the Butterfly Ball? Where was the Colin who made her feel safe and desired in their bed last night? How could she get him back?
“You want me to tell you how much I hate you?” Colin nodded and, even though he towered over her, he seemed small and frail before her, waiting for the harsh words he was expecting to hear.
Penelope considered what she should do, how this could possibly help them come together and move on as one. If this was what he truly wanted, who was she to deny him?
“Part of me does hate you. I hate that you made me wait all of those years. So much lost time, so much pain, and you ended up loving me anyway. Why couldn’t you have realised sooner?” The words felt freeing to say but she also felt ashamed of the truth of them as she watched Colin flinch at each word, taking them like slaps to the face. She had been magnanimous when he had apologized at the church for not seeing her sooner but there was a part of her, hidden away, that was angry with him. But she had squashed those feelings down, making herself smaller for him just as she had done with Whistledown, too afraid to show him the breadth of her, the parts of her that were too awful for him to love.
What would he think of her now that she had admitted to this? Would this shatter them beyond repair? Perhaps instead their anger and shame could purify them, perhaps it could wash them clean, perhaps they could finally be rid of all that had come between them. For hadn’t secrets been the problem all along, the lack of communication? Shouldn’t she be honest with him, shouldn’t she share the parts that she had hidden, even from herself?
She beckoned him to come closer, wanting to see all of him before she continued. Once she could see all of his massive form, she commanded, “On your knees.” Colin dropped to his knees so immediately and forcefully, Penelope was certain he must have bruised them. Perhaps he did it on purpose, as punishment. Even from the few feet of distance between them, she could see the tear streaks reflecting in the sunlight, riverbeds created by the shameful parts of him, the parts that held regret, the parts he still hid from her. She felt the intense desire to lick a stripe along them, something about the idea caused her insides to swoop in desire.
“You look so pathetic, Colin. Almost as pathetic as that little facade you had on at the beginning of the season. Did you truly think anyone would believe that sweet, naive Colin Bridgerton could truly be the rake you claimed you were? You deserved to be shamed in Whistledown for that, you know.”
Penelope was surprised when he spoke, “Yes, I did.” His voice sounded raspy and deep, reminding her of that day in front of the mirror. Was he… enjoying this? She slowly approached his slumped over body, his eyes pointed toward the floor in shame. That was when she saw it, the tell-tale bulging of his trousers. He— he desired this, just like he desired her. He was receiving some… satisfaction from her barbs and defamation.
She whispered, too surprised to speak at a normal level, “You are aroused, are you not? You enjoy the things I am saying to you?” Colin did not move in response, so she took his silence as confirmation.
At this revelation, as well as the sight of him supplicant before her, miserable and teary, she felt the desire grow within her too. Her quim, for Colin had taught her the word for it the night before, became slick and achy at her core.
“You have been a poor husband. A poor brother. A poor son. Forever letting those around you down.” Penelope finally reached him, closing the physical distance between them. She grabbed for his chin roughly, pointing his face up at her. Her harsh touch caused the remaining droplets of tears to fall from his eyes, creating new teary paths on his face. She could not resist now, she was far too deep in the well of desire and far too close to him to do anything other than lean over and press her tongue along the tears’ path, leaving red marks behind, as if she had rubbed rough paper along his skin. He whimpered in response, the sound of it reverberating through her like a bell tower, calling her body to his. She gazed into his eyes, dark and stormy and downcast, but she could also see desire there, the same desire she felt.
Penelope wondered if that strange mixture of feelings within him elicited the same thrill that she was feeling. She felt shame and anger and desire and joy in equal measure, not knowing where one feeling ended and the other began. It was all one big knot of emotional ropes, a mess inside her that she was not sure she wanted to clean up. What if they just allowed it all to spill out of themselves onto the floor? They could wade around in it until it filled back in the holes left behind, if they no longer knew which holes had been the ones of shame, the ones of pain, the ones of anger, because it was all mixed together like mud, covering them, and now it had just become… them.
Penelope fell to the floor and sat in his lap. They were finally face to face, something they so rarely are. They are always on different levels, he sees the world from his height and she sees it from hers. She sees how the world works against her as a woman and he sees how easily it flows for a man. He sees the world in his travels, it’s beauty and wonder, and she is trapped with the ton, cruel and unforgiving. But here on the floor, looking face to face, they are taking in the same view; two people who are a mess of love and pain and anger and doubt, two people who want to love each other but aren’t entirely sure how to come together to do so.
“I can feel how much you desire this, how much you desire to be shamed and belittled. How your own inadequacy feeds your want.” She began to rock her hips against his cock, pulling her own pleasure out of his as it rubbed against her through the fabric of his trousers.
“Pen…” Colin’s voice broke her out of her haze of pleasure and she saw how broken his face looked. She noticed his wobbly lip as the tears continued to fall. She leaned over and bit down hard on it, hard enough to draw bitter tasting blood into her own mouth. Now that his blood was inside her, maybe his shame and pain were too. Maybe his blood carried them to her, maybe they could share it. They could become one thing, one mess of blood and tears and feeling. They could face all of each other and become one.
She grabbed Colin’s chin again and pulled it down, forcing his mouth open, and spat the mix of her saliva and his blood back into his mouth. She forced his chin back up, closing his mouth in the process.
“Swallow.” She felt him twitch beneath her, the desire making him impossibly harder, and watched as his throat contracted, following the gulp as it traveled down his neck. Her eyes wandered back up to his face, taking in his foggy expression. He was looking at her but he was not really seeing her, his mind in a space she could not reach.
“Colin!” His eyes seemed to focus then, coming to life as he gazed at her.
“Pen…”
“You heard all of those awful things. Now I want you to hear the good as well.” She cannot help but continue to rock her hips against him, his hardness rubbing against her softness, providing her a little bit of relief to the overwhelming need for her own release. “Before I begin, I need you to help me out of this dress.”
She turned around without leaving his lap, and after a few moments, she felt the dress loosen, shrugging out of it, allowing it to pool around her waist. Another few moments passed and, once he was done untying it, she allowed her corset to fall to the floor. She turned back to Colin. His hands had fallen limply to his sides once his task was done. Deciding she needed to be touched and he needed the touching, she grabbed his hands and gently placed them on her breasts, helping him to cup her through her thin shift.
“Even with all of your faults, you are a good man, kind and feeling in a way many are not.” His grip on her soft flesh became harder, like his hold on her was tethering him. She began to rock her hips lightly against him again, the combination of it with his grasp on her breasts brought out soft, breathy moans from her mouth.
“I love how— Ah!—steady you feel beneath me. You have always been steady for me, Colin. The singular fact of my existence,—Oh god—like the color of my hair or eyes. You have always been there.” Her breaths had become shorter and her own end felt like it was quickly approaching as she rocked against him but it came crashing down once she saw the look on his face, broken and bereft.
Becoming still, she watched as more tears fell, his voice cracking as he spoke, “That is not the truth.”
She gently leaned toward him and softly licked the tears on his cheeks again, needing to continue to take in bits of him until she was not sure what was hers and what was his, hoping she could absorb some of his doubts in the process. Touching him cheek to cheek, she argued, “It is true. You are the one who repaired our friendship at the beginning of the season. You are the one who married me still, even though we were on shaky ground. You were there, even when you were in pain, even when you did not understand. You stayed.”
For the first time since this all began, Colin took charge, grabbing her face and hungrily kissing her, eating up her moans, his hands still clinging to her breasts like they were floating driftwood and he was sinking in the ocean. Their tongues danced together as their saliva mixed, another bit of them joined together. They kissed for so long that their bodies began to feel like one, their motions in time with each other, hips rocking, chests heaving, Colin-Penelope. Just one thing.
Finally, they were forced to separate for air, and once Penelope had recovered hers, she continued.
“You are brilliant, your wit matches mine in a way very few have. I have always loved you but it was not until our friendship blossomed that I realised you are more than my first and only love. You are a companion to me, someone with whom I can enjoy my time, someone who makes me laugh. You are everything I need, Colin.” As she said this, her hips began to move faster, she could feel warm wetness between them, a mixture of both of their desire forming on his lap. Her release was so close she could feel the edges of it creeping in around her.
“I need you, Colin. I need us to become one.”
“I need you too, Pen.” His hands finally left her breasts, reaching down to inelegantly pull himself out of his trousers. Once he had his belt unbuckled and his trousers lowered, Penelope looked down at his length, stiff and almost pulsing, liquid leaking out of the tip. She angled her hips up and inserted him, seating him fully inside her. They both let out a gasp of relief, finally feeling the peace of being connected in every way possible.
There was a feeling of contentment between them and almost at the same instant, they each touched their lips to the other, exchanging and mingling breath. Penelope whispered the words directly to his mouth, hoping they would travel into him like her breath did, seeping into every part of him. “Do you feel it? Do you feel me all around you? Feel my anger, my shame, my love? I want you to feel it. I want you to feel all of me just as I feel all of you. I feel your regrets, your pain, your love. I feel it.”
They were both crying then and Penelope felt him twitch inside her, doing her best to clench around him in response.
“Ah, Colin! I need you to spill inside me. I need to feel it.”
He began thrusting up then, the pleasure crashing over them both as they spoke little, their groans and whimpers and wails speaking for them. Penelope felt her release approaching, her shift sticking to the sweat on her body, Colin’s hands grasping her from behind as he pushed up into her, her body beginning to tense uncontrollably. Everything around them became hazy. Nothing mattered but their one body, their one being and the pleasure they were feeling as one.
“Pen—I can’t—please.”
“Let go, you can let go.”
He released inside her and the feeling of his spend joining her wet, another thing become one, sent her off the cliff. She screamed out his name in relief as she collapsed onto his chest.
Nothing but their breathing filled the room for a long time and eventually Colin became too tired to sit up, pulling her down with him as he laid on the floor. Once Penelope recovered herself, she began to rub her fingers along his chest, much like the first time they made love, though this time there was cloth between their skin.
“Was—was that alright?” Her voice sounded small and uncertain, so very different from the confidence she had spoken with earlier.
Colin took a moment to respond, breaking the silence eventually, “It was necessary, and—and I enjoyed it.”
She looked up at him then, searching his eyes for the truth. The blue shined particularly bright from the wetness that remained there, leftover tears that had yet to fall. “I enjoyed it too. It felt—telling you all of that, it felt like a release, much like when we make love.”
Colin nodded. “Would you want to do it again?”
Penelope considered for a moment. “I want you to do the talking next time. I think you have things to say as well.”
Colin looked a little nervous then. “I do not wish to hurt you.”
“Did my words hurt you?”
“Yes but—something about hearing them made me feel good too.”
“And what about when I told you the good things?”
“That made me feel good as well.”
“So, it would reason the same would be true for me. I want you to, Colin.” Her voice sounded pleading and needy, knowing deep down that this was an important thread they needed to unwind.
He kissed the top of her head as he responded, “Tomorrow. We can do it tomorrow.”
Penelope awoke the next day from a restful sleep, in Colin’s arms once again. She and Colin had been exhausted by their activities in the study and spent the rest of the day relaxing, reading, and writing, with little discussion between the two of them. They had made love languidly that night, slowly and tenderly, falling into a deep sleep quickly after.
She watched Colin sleeping and, again, thought about waking him up with a kiss. Her thoughts wandered back to the previous morning and the disaster it had started out as. But then again, it had also led to the events in the study, which Penelope was still struggling to wrap her mind around. They had both seemingly enjoyed it but it was such odd behaviour from both of them. She had never been one to speak like that to anyone, though she had been more bold in the written word, and Colin had never seemed so meek as he had on his knees in front of her. They should likely feel ashamed of what they had done yesterday, it was not any way a married couple should treat each other, but it was hard to ignore the pleasure they had both derived from it.
And Colin had agreed to do it again. To be the one in control, the one who said all of the words that needed to be said. It felt thrilling and also a little nauseating to think of what he might say to her. What he might do to her. If she was honest, she wanted it to start right away. So perhaps she should try to kiss him and begin the same cycle they had gone through yesterday.
As she had finally made the decision and turned up to kiss him, she noticed his eyes already open and gazing down on her.
“Good morning.”
“G—good morning.” Her voice sounded wobbly and hoarse, typical for the first words of the day but she knew it was also indicative of how she was feeling inside.
Colin leaned down to kiss her and it felt like the first kiss all over again. Her stomach lept and her heart stuttered. She felt peace fall over her, knowing that he wasn’t disgusted with her because of what happened yesterday and that he wasn’t going to leap out of bed at the sight of her.
Once the kiss was done, Colin asked, “How about some breakfast before we begin?” Penelope smiled and nodded, the nerves she had been feeling mostly washed away.
Breakfast was peaceful as they sat across from each other in companionable silence. It was so much nicer than the lonely breakfast yesterday. Penelope watched as Colin devoured his food as he always did, making up a second plate to eat before she had even finished her first. For the first time since they had married, it felt like they were truly a couple, truly partners together in life.
Once they had both finished, Colin grabbed for her hand and led her back to the study. Penelope’s breath caught as she entered, the memories of yesterday flooding back to her. The nerves returned, though much less pronounced than they had been that morning. She was not sure what to do with herself. The previous day’s events had unfolded so naturally, but today they both knew what was about to occur and it scared her.
”Colin—I—“
“Don’t worry, darling. I will take care of you.” His eyes were warm and kind, just like always. He seemed like the Colin of old, the one she fell in love with. She nodded and then watched his eyes grow dark, his gaze steely. This was a Colin she recognized too. The one she had seen the night he had discovered she was Whistledown. This Colin was unforgiving and there was a small part of her, that she had not yet come to terms with, that felt a growing lust under his gaze.
”Kneel.” She obeyed instantly, dropping her knees to the floor. She felt a tingling spread over her body, a haziness where she could not quite place how she was feeling. It felt good and it felt freeing. She could let go and let him control the moments between them.
Colin stepped away, dragging over a chair and sitting in front of her. He still towered over her and she could feel his gaze upon her, it feeling like the cold light of the moon, bright but not warming like the sun. His hand reached out, caressing her face, slowly gliding over her chin and cheeks.
“So innocent. So cherubic. But you are so much more than that, aren’t you, Pen? You have bite and cruelty in you too. You enjoy making people feel lesser. Writing about their foibles and mistakes. It makes you feel powerful. It’s a mask, just like mine, hiding the insecurity inside. You think you are undesirable, unworthy.”
She flinched at his words, at the truth of them. She had lived under her mother’s cruel words, men’s cold indifference towards her, and Colin’s blissful ignorance of her feelings for so long. It would have been impossible not to absorb some of the cruel realities of her existence. And it had been easy to throw those realities back in the face of the ton. It had made her feel better. Perhaps that made her a horrible person.
Tears began to form in her eyes, trying to blink them away did nothing but cause them to fall more quickly. They pooled onto Colin’s hand, still gently placed on one of her cheeks. Once Colin felt the wet there, he brought his hand up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the salty droplets.
Penelope began to wonder, did he feel the same way she had yesterday? Did he feel the need for them to become one, to absorb each other any way they could? Desire began to pool at her thighs, her breath becoming heavier as her want grew.
“You were jealous of Marina weren’t you?”
The question shocked Penelope, for some reason she had not expected Colin to bring her up at all. She threw him a pained look and it seemed to be all the confirmation he needed.
“You were. You didn’t just ruin her to protect me, you ruined her because you were jealous of my feelings for her. What a cruel thing to do, Penelope.” As he spoke, he began to palm himself through the fabric of his trousers and the sight of it made Penelope rub her thighs together for her own relief.
His voice was the deepest she had ever heard it when he demanded, “Tell me, Penelope. Were you jealous?”
“Y—yes.” A feeling of relief washed over her as the word left her lips. She had not wanted to ruin Marina but she was also jealous of her. Perhaps the feelings were more mixed than she realized.
“Good girl.” The praise reverberated through her, drawing her mind into an even foggier place, a place where there was nothing but this room, nothing but her on her knees, nothing but Colin touching himself as he demeaned her.
Colin’s eyes roved over her body, still clad in the pink day dress she had put on when they had woken up. It felt constricting on her now, she wanted desperately to take it off.
“Colin, please. I need—I cannot wear this any longer.”
“What a whore, wanting to strip bare before me while I discuss all of your faults.” Her desire somehow grew at his harsh words, the slick between her legs beginning to drip onto the floor. He stood up, walking around behind her and grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her up roughly. He made quick work of the buttons on her dress. Having forgone a corset for the day, she was left only in her sheer shift and went to grab for the hem, to pull it over as well, but Colin’s hand stopped her.
“I did not tell you to remove that.”
“I—I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are. You are always sorry after the fact, aren’t you?” She felt a stabbing at her heart, a pain at his words that cut through even the haze of her current state of arousal. The two feelings mixed together much as they had yesterday. She felt the need again to spill all of her feelings out, all of the good and the bad until they came together and she could not tell the difference between them anymore.
An idea occurred to her then. Another way in which she could feel everything at once, a way in which she and Colin could meld and mix and become one thing. “Punish me.” Colin stepped back then, clearly surprised by her request.
He hesitantly asked, “How would you like me to punish you?”
“Hit me.”
“Pen—I am not going to—“
“Hit me here.” She grabbed for his hand and placed it on her buttocks. “I deserve it, Colin.”
He considered for a moment, a clear war going on in his mind, one between propriety and desire, between wanting to protect her but also give her what she needed. Eventually the war was over and he nodded in approval, taking her hand and leading her to the chair. He sat down and then pulled her on top of him, his hand grabbing one cheek through her thin shift.
Without warning, his hand came down hard, the pain spreading through her in a quick wave. She yelped in surprise but also felt the desire between her thighs grow, her body somehow aching even more in need.
Another slap to the other cheek and then Colin kneaded at each, massaging away the pain, seeming to know instinctively she needed the pleasure along with the pain, to feel them both in tandem. Wasn’t that the whole point of this exercise? For them both to share in everything, every complicated emotion, every bit of shame and joy and in between until they shared everything? Until they became one?
Several slaps later, Penelope felt more tears prick at her eyes as each one hurt more and more. A mixture of sob and moan escaped her on the final slap before Colin turned her head toward him by grabbing her chin. He dragged his thumb along her tear tracks and reached for his cock, she hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled it out. He began to palm himself, thrusting up and down, his length rubbing against the side of her stomach. She sat there and waited and listened as moans and grunts slipped out of his mouth.
Eventually she could wait no longer, ”Colin, please!” Just the image of him in such a state had her close to the edge. He flipped her up like a doll placing her over his lap. He guided his cock head to her entrance and lowered her onto him. She was so aroused, there was no resistance at all, each of them moaning at the joining.
As she sat on his cock, Colin took his hand and gently removed a curl from her eyes, caressing her cheek, as he spoke.
“I have already told you that you are one of the bravest people I have ever known. You took what was a rather unfortunate circumstance, a society that mostly ignored you, a family that mistreated you, and you turned it into a legacy. The Queen herself respected and feared you.” He placed a featherlight kiss on her lips as more tears fell onto her cheeks. “You are kind and considerate too. You did your best to lift up your fellow debutants. You have lifted me up when I’ve needed it. Always believing in me and my own abilities.”
Penelope began to rock her hips, shifting him inside her, in a way that made them both moan in pleasure.
“You are so beautiful. A goddess on earth. Do you feel how much I desire you, darling?”
“Yes, Colin.” His hand slipped down to her pearl, beginning to rub light circles around it, never quite touching it.
“We were made to be together but we also chose to be together, Penelope. I chose you. I chose everything about you. The parts you may not like, the parts that you love. I love them all. I choose them today and tomorrow and forever, Pen.”
She sat her forehead to his, hoping that the tears falling from both of their eyes would mingle together. ”Colin and Penelope, we are one.”
”That’s right. Colin and Penelope.”
He thrusted up into her sharply, making her vision go white. She gripped onto his shoulders for stability, the pleasure and pain mixing again, as at every thrust his thighs would hit the sore spots on her bottom.
“Colin! Please, please, I need—-“
He grunted out his answer, “I know just what you need, Pen.” His grasp on her hips tightened and his thrusts became wild and reckless, neither of them able to form words any longer.
Penelope felt her inner walls clench and release in white hot ecstasy. It felt like it went on forever, her mind going completely blank in pleasure. Colin thrusted a few more times and released into her with a grunt. The feeling of him filling her sent another zing of pleasure through her before they both collapsed, completely spent from the affair.
Colin wrapped his hands around Penelope after a few moments while she set her forehead down on his shoulder, each trying to regain their breath.
Penelope broke the silence by quietly stating, “I feel it.”
Colin responded simply, “I feel it, too.”