Chapter Text
It’s been nearly a year since the first time they did this.
That time was rushed and frantic. Like there was a risk of someone putting a stop to it and hauling them apart. Like they would die if they didn’t have each other right then and there.
This time is the same, but different. No one is going to stop this. Certainly not her. But it is still frantic and needy.
Colin has been back in London for about 2 hours, and he’s already got his hands up her dress, his tongue down her throat.
This isn’t what friends do. She knows this. But it is what they do.
And she can’t seem to stop them. She's addicted to this. Addicted to him.
Her hands are fumbling at the button on his jeans. Tugging down the zipper to reach in and fist his cock.
The groan he lets out is like a dopamine hit. She shivers.
His lips leave hers to latch at her neck. Her head falls back, banging against the wall.
“God, Pen,” he breathes. He lifts her dress, pulling her panties to the side. He pulls out a condom from his pocket, rolling it on. “I can’t wait.”
He’s pushing into her in the next instant, filling her up and driving her to the edge.
She’s drunk on pleasure and Colin Bridgerton, and the nagging thoughts in her mind telling her that they can’t keep doing this are drowned out by the sound of their moans.
*
The pub is busy when Penelope arrives.
It’s Friday night and most of the Bridgerton siblings are gathering to meet Eloise’s new boyfriend Phillip—a big milestone as Eloise never introduces her love interests to her family. Penelope met him a few weeks ago and is happy that her friend has found someone. Everyone is thrilled to meet this guy, and is already there when she walks in.
She spots Colin first and her heart speeds up. She hasn’t seen him since he fucked her against the wall of her flat after he arrived home from the airport three days ago.
They had texted briefly, as friends do, but she had been busy with work so they hadn’t seen each other.
And as far as his family is concerned, this is the first time they are seeing each other since he got back.
Penelope makes her way through the pub and flushes as she is spotted and her pseudo family starts hollering and cheering as they scoop her into hugs.
She gets passed down through the group until she winds up in front of Colin. Pulling from the last Bridgerton hug, she stands in front of him.
He peers down, grinning. “Hi, Pen.”
She doesn’t hide her own smirk as he pulls her into his arms to a tight squeeze. “Hi,” she breathes. “Glad to see you made it home.”
He snorts against her softly at that, his face in her hair. “Sure did.”
His hand coasts south down her back and settles on her ass. She feels him squeeze it and quickly squirms out of his arms to take a step back.
She sends him a chastising look.
Luckily, no one is paying them any mind in the loud and busy pub. They are all fawning over Phillip, peppering him with questions and sharing Eloise’s embarrassing stories.
Penelope slides up to her best friend and links their arms. “Seems that your family likes him,” she teases Eloise. “That’s a good sign.”
Eloise groans. “This is torture. I can’t wait until you have a boyfriend and bring him to meet these vultures.”
Penelope nearly chokes at that. She stiffens and slides her arm back, purposely avoiding looking at a certain someone. “I’m going to get a drink, need one?”
Her friend shakes her head, getting sucked back into a conversation with the broader group and Penelope makes her escape.
She beelines to the bar and orders a cider before she feels a hard warmth against her back. Her body ignites immediately, leaning back against him momentarily before pulling back.
She turns to Colin and hisses. “What are you doing? Your whole family is right there.”
Colin laughs and shrugs. “They aren’t looking over here. Don’t worry.” He leans closer. “I thought you would’ve invited me over this week.”
She swallows. “I’ve been busy with work.” Not untrue. But also sometimes she fools herself into creating made up space between them to show herself she still has control.
“I missed you, Pen.”
Penelope softens at that. “Me too. But no groping in front of your family.”
He laughs at that. She’s glad for it. They never directly discuss what this is that they are doing. That they’ve been doing. For a year. A whole year of having sex with her ‘friend’ in secret.
The keeping it secret was her idea. Although, she’s sure he would’ve suggested it if she hadn’t. Of course he would have. They don’t need everyone knowing about this. She doesn’t even know what this is.
For her it’s…everything. A drug. An addiction. She can never say no to him.
He comes home after months away, seeks her out for a hookup, and then leaves again.
And every time he leaves, Penelope tells herself that she won’t do it again. Their friendship is important to her. Her heart can’t take this unrequited love anymore. It’s only going to get worse.
He’ll call or text while he’s away, and they never mention the sex, they never discuss what they are doing. And she certainly doesn’t bring it up to call it off.
She’s a coward.
And then he shows up again, like he did this week. Tells her he needs to see her right away, is she home? Can he come over? And like the addict she is, she says yes. And she rushes home from work to get her fix, to kiss him and fuck him and feel him.
And then the cycle repeats itself.
“So,” Colin starts as they get their drinks and move away from the bar. “What’s the deal with this Phil guy? Do we like him?”
Penelope breathes out a laugh. “We do like him. He’s very nice. And Eloise is happy. So, yes. We definitely like him.”
He makes a humming noise in response.
They weave their way back into the circle of Bridgertons.
She slots in by Eloise. He stands opposite her by Benedict.
They join into the conversation seamlessly, a discussion of Phil and his hobbies.
Colin meets her eyes above the group. He sends her a heated gaze as he sips his beer. She feels it right to her core. Her cheeks flush.
There are times when this secret between them is hot and thrilling. They pretend like they are friends and nothing more, but she knows what his cock feels like in her mouth. She knows what he sounds like when he comes down her throat. What he tastes like.
The thoughts of that make her squirm in the middle of the pub.
She would like to taste him now, in fact.
He’s gorgeous. His hair is a bit longer than normal, a stray curl falling over his forehead. He's wearing a fitted long sleeved shirt that stretches across his hard chest.
She could look at him for hours. Her body heats at just the sight of him.
When she’s in his presence, she forgets about her rational concerns over this arrangement. She forgets how anxious and unsure she is when he’s away. She forgets how self conscious and doubtful she gets. She forgets that this ‘friends with benefits’ situation isn’t really working for her anymore. It never was. She can’t go on being his London fuck buddy.
He motions to his watch and sends her a wink.
She fights her smile. She knows he’s teasing about leaving now as they just got there, but his message is clear—he wants to fuck her tonight.
She’s already wet with anticipation.
And this is why she can never deny him. She’s a weak little slut for Colin Bridgerton. And despite the fact that he’s leaving tomorrow, and her heart can barely handle this, she knows what her answer will be.
Penelope is able to push all that from her mind and be present for the next several hours at the pub. She chats with Eloise and Phil for a bit before getting pulled into a conversation with Benedict and Francesca.
She’s not avoiding Colin, but she’s not seeking him out either. And she’s painfully aware of his presence in the group.
He makes a point to touch her every chance he gets. A hand on her back as he moves past her, sliding his fingers over hers as he joins her conversation, a tug on the hem of her skirt, his arm on the back of her chair.
As the night winds down, she feels him moving in closer, his touches more persistent.
The first Bridgerton sibling leaves, and Penelope feels his gaze on her.
She turns to Eloise and feigns a yawn. “I’m going to head out. Long week.” She leans in to hug her friend. “Successful night for you,” she tells her lowly, gesturing toward her friend’s new boyfriend.
Eloise huffs out a laugh and pulls from their embrace. “Glad that band aid is ripped off.”
Penelope says her goodbyes to the rest of the group, arriving at Colin last. “Goodnight,” she tells him, her eyes glinting.
He throws an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. “I’ll walk you home, Pen.”
He says a quick goodbye to his remaining siblings before steering her out of the bar.
No one blinks an eye at them. She feels momentarily guilty before he’s pulling her into him and covering her mouth with his.
Despite the cool spring air surrounding them, she suddenly feels warm. His tongue presses her lips, and she opens to let it slide along hers.
His hands come up to tangle in her hair, holding her to him. “Can I come over?” he asks between kisses.
“Yes,” she breathes, forgetting that she shouldn’t be so readily accepting.
This is madness, she thinks. Him kissing her on the street where anyone can see them. His fingers in her hair. Her body caged in his.
It almost feels romantic, she tells herself. But then promptly pushes that thought down. That’s ridiculous. It’s not romantic. Colin doesn’t think of her like that. He never has. It’s lust. It’s horniness after a night of drinking.
She feels her mind spiraling.
She promptly pulls away from him, their lips separating.
“Let’s go,” she whispers. “Before someone sees us.”
A look passes over his face at that, she can’t discern it, and it’s gone quickly and replaced with a quirk of his lips as he grabs her hand and pulls her down the sidewalk.
The walk to her flat goes by in a blur. They don’t talk much. The tense anticipation simmers between them.
He’s behind her as she fumbles with the key in the door, pressed into her back, his hands on her waist.
He reaches up to move her hair to one side, revealing her neck and dropping down to press his mouth there. She shudders. Her fingers continue to fumble with the lock.
“Need a hand there?” he teases, his voice a low rumble in her ear.
Penelope can only shake her head. All of her thoughts have left her brain. Obviously. If she was thinking at all, she would be pumping the brakes on this impending heartbreak.
She finally gets the door open, and they both stumble in.
Colin pushes the door closed with one hand, wrapping his other arm around her body and pulling them down the hallway.
They are kissing as they enter her bedroom. Their lips devouring each other, messy and needy.
She loves kissing him. The first time he kissed her, a year ago, she thought she was dreaming. She’s still not convinced she isn’t.
He tastes like spearmint and beer and Colin, and she can’t get enough.
Her hands go to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head before her lips attach back to his.
She runs her hands up his chest, her nails through the hair there and he groans.
“God, I want you.” His words are accompanied by his hands sliding up her sweater to palm her breasts.
Her back arches. She wonders if he can feel how fast her heart is beating.
She never gets tired of him telling her this. She thrives on it. Her pussy clenches. She wants him. She always wants him.
She loves him. She’s so in love with him; this feels like a sick joke. Letting her have nearly everything she wants but not really. His friendship. His attention. His body. But that’s it. Not what matters.
She has no claim on him. Just these secret moments that she lives for.
She reaches down to strip off her own top. Slips her skirt down and steps out of that and her shoes.
They are still kissing, but he pulls back to open his eyes and scan them up and down her body.
“Fuck, Pen.” His arm goes around her body to pull her flush against his chest. Her lace covered breasts against his bare skin. He dips his head to lick at the sensitive skin below her ear. “You’re so beautiful.” He bites her.
She moans, her hand finding the hard bulge through his jeans and stroking him.
“Take them off,” he demands.
Penelope wastes no time obeying him. She gets his belt and jeans off in record time, pushing those and his boxers down.
His fingers make quick work of her bra next. It’s flung to the side.
“Get on the bed. You’re going to come on my fingers and then I’m going to bury my cock in that soaked cunt.”
She is, indeed, soaked. And his words make her ache.
Before a year ago, she had no idea she liked to be told what to do in bed. She’s a feminist. An independent woman. She doesn’t take orders from any man.
But the second Colin Bridgerton bosses her around in bed she’s done for. This man tells her to get on her knees in front of him and she can’t do it fast enough. He tells her how and when she’s going to take his cock and she’s drenched. Panties ruined. Legs open.
She’s never experienced pleasure like this before. He rules her body better than anyone ever has, even her. It’s no wonder she can’t put a stop to this.
She gets on the bed on her back, her knees up. She expects him to follow, but he remains standing at the foot of the bed. Naked, cock dripping at the tip.
His eyes are on hers as he slides his hands along her legs.
“I wanted to touch you all night,” he tells her. His fingers slip past her bent knees, down her thighs. “That skirt was driving me crazy.” He teases along the edge of her panties. “Wanted to feel how ready you were for me.” His thumb presses against her clit. Her hips jolt up. “Would you have liked that, Penelope?” He presses harder. “For me to reach up and touch your wet cunt?”
She nods, her lower half pushes against his hand.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes,” she cries. Her tongue licks at her lips. “Yes, I would’ve liked it.”
He lets out a dark chuckle. “Dirty girl. In front of my family. Dying for my cock.”
“Yes.” She’s squirming.
His finger slips past the lace without warning. He finds her clit and slides against it. Her eyes widen. Her breath rushes from her body.
He plays with her like this for a moment. Standing above her with his hand in her panties, stroking and teasing. She’s putty beneath him. She’s so turned on. Desperate and seeking against his fingers.
Her lids flutter closed at the feel of it. Her orgasm is so close, yet not near enough. She needs more.
“Please,” she begs, gasping. Her legs widen.
He pulls his hand away and she lets out a cry of protest. He removes the last layer between them, throwing the lace behind him.
“Open your eyes,” he commands. She complies immediately. His blue eyes are dark. Focused on her face.
He slides his fingers through her drenched folds. Pen bites her lip, trying to keep her eyes open but it feels so so good.
His finger thrusts into her. She lets out a choked sound. Her hips buck.
“This what you wanted?” His eyes still don’t leave hers. She’s torn between wanting to close hers and never look away from him.
He pumps his finger, in and out. Her body writhes beneath him. She feels sparks of pleasure taking over her with every thrust.
She wants to reach up and touch him, but he’s still standing above her. Instead, she fists the blankets under her, holding on as he continues to finger fuck her into oblivion.
He adds another finger, and she moans at the feeling.
His eyes are dark, staring intently into hers. She gapes back at him, unable to hold back the desperate sounds coming out of her.
She feels the tension of her orgasm winding and winding. Her hips move against him, her back arching.
With the flick of his thumb on her clit he sends her over the edge. She’s hurled into pleasure as the taut tension releases. She gasps out a silent scream and can no longer keep her eyes open.
His motions slow as she comes down from her high. She’s breathless and fluttery.
Colin slides his hands down her thighs, and she can feel his gaze still on her.
After another moment of catching her breath, Penelope opens her eyes. She meets his immediately and watches him smirk.
“Good girl.” His voice is rough and hoarse. His cock looks painfully hard now. Her mouth waters. “Turn over.”
She’s still boneless, but her body reacts as it usually does at his command, and she turns to her stomach.
He spreads her legs in this new position and kneels between her thighs. He pulls her hips up, and she feels his tip slide against her wetness. She moans into her pillow. Her body is already ready to go again, aching to be filled.
“I need to fuck you,” he grits out. She lets out a breathy sound of agreement. Her hips push back against him. He reaches down for a condom; she hears the rip of it opening.
The sudden slap on her ass has her jolting in surprise and then groaning into the bedding. She feels it again. Her legs widen. She wiggles back.
He spanks her a third time, and she’s dripping for him. “Colin,” she gasps out.
“Tell me what you need. What this greedy cunt needs.”
His filthy words make her ache more.
“You.” She’s not sure if she can form thoughts, never mind words. But she’s desperate for him to fill her. “I need you inside me.”
He smacks her ass again and is filling her before she can gasp at the sting. Instead, she’s moaning helplessly at the stark shift in sensation.
“Oh, God,” she chokes out. Her body stretches to take him in. It feels unreal.
“I love watching you take me like this.” One of his hands leaves her hips to fist in her hair. He pulls out for a second before thrusting back in, hard. She feels the air leave her body.
The slide of him inside of her has her pushing back onto him.
He fucks into her, hard and deep. She grasps the blankets beneath her, holding on so as to not jolt forward into the headboard.
He’s nailing the spot deep inside her that’s making her crazy, over and over. She feels like she’s getting sucked into a black hole of pleasure.
His groans behind her are addicting. She never wants to stop hearing them. Never wants him to stop wanting her, needing her.
His fingers tighten in her hair, and the pull is deliciously sharp.
She is simultaneously desperate to come, and she never wants to stop doing this.
“You feel so good on my cock. Hot and tight. Your perfect cunt was made for me.”
His words go straight to her core, and her orgasm catches her by surprise. She sobs into the pillow at the feeling. She clenches him, over and over.
Colin lets out his own breathless grunt as he pumps into her fluttering warmth a few more times before following her over the edge.
Their movements slow. Her body slides boneless down to the bed, her face still buried in the pillow. He joins her, slumping first onto her before rolling over to shift his weight off. She wishes he stayed on top crushing her.
They are silent for a while, catching their breath and coming down from bliss.
After a few minutes, Penelope feels his hand on her back, his finger tips gliding up it. Her lips quirk.
This is always the weird part. They are post climax, not dating, no romantic feelings (other than her buried ones). Do they cuddle? Do they have a sleepover and make plans for the next day?
He leaves briefly to clean up.
It’s late, so it’s no surprise when he moves to pull the covers back and gets in. He motions for her to do the same on her ‘side’.
She rests her head on her pillow. She’s facing him. He does the same.
The look on his face is almost like he wants to say something. He lifts his hand and touches her face. His thumb skims her bottom lip.
She waits. She needs him to say something. Acknowledge this. Acknowledge them.
He opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. He closes it.
His hand drops and his eyes close.
“My flight is early tomorrow. I won’t wake you.”
Penelope feels the balloon of hope pop inside her. She forces her voice to sound steady. “Have a safe flight.”
She rolls over to fall asleep.
*
She hears him get up around 7am. He moves about her room gathering his discarded clothes and putting them on.
He's quiet as he pulls his shoes on. He uses the sink in the bathroom. Drinks some of the water she has next to her bed.
Eventually, must have everything he needs, because he stops moving around.
She’s had her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep this whole time.
She hears him step to her side of the bed. Feels him standing over her. Feels him hesitating? She almost thinks she feels a whisper of his hand in her hair before he’s stepping back.
He walks out of her room and out the front door.
She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Opening her eyes, she rolls to her back and looks at the ceiling.
Her chest aches slightly. She feels the sudden urge to cry. Blinking that urge away quickly, she rolls back to her side.
She closes her eyes.
It’s always like this when he leaves.
Like she’s getting closed in a dark room. Like her heart hurts.
Like she’s never going to have him, so why the hell is she doing this to herself?
*
Penelope must’ve dozed back off, because she’s awoken again by the sound of her phone.
Her heart beats faster at the idea that it might be Colin, and she is instantly disappointed when she sees her mother’s name on the screen.
Groaning, she considers not answering, but she knows that Portia will keep calling if she doesn’t.
“Hello, mum,” she answers.
“Penelope, dear. You sound like you’ve just woken up. I hope you aren’t wasting the day away in bed.”
Penelope rolls her eyes. Her mother’s critical attitude is something she is used to. “No, mum. I’m just on my way to the gym.” She slumps back against her pillow.
Portia hums in response. “Well, I’m calling to remind you about dinner tonight. Your sisters are bringing their husbands of course.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Good. You don’t need to bring anything. Unless…you’re seeing anyone?”
Penelope huffs out a breath. “Nope. I’m not seeing anyone.” Her heart twinges.
“No need to be short with me, Penelope. I’m just asking.” Portia pauses. “You know that I just want you to be happy.”
Pen closes her eyes at her mother’s words. A classic guilt tactic. She knows the other woman means well, but this is a familiar song and dance for them. “I am happy.”
“I just want to see all my girls settled. You aren’t getting any younger.”
“I’m 27,” she grumbles.
“And I was 27 when I had Philipa. You can’t just sit around and expect these things to come to you, dear.”
Penelope feels her patience waning. “Thanks, mum. I’ll keep that in mind. I better get going so I can snag an elliptical.”
Portia sighs heavily on the other line. “Fine, then. I will see you tonight.”
“Bye.”
“Get out of bed, Penelope.”
She hangs up and flings her phone on her bed. Her eyes close.
Her mother exhausts her no matter how long she speaks to her these days. Portia loves to remind Penelope just how single she is.
And not that there is anything wrong with that. But it does make her think about where she is in her life.
She does want to settle down. Maybe not in the way her mother is suggesting with marriage and babies right now. But she would like to find someone. Someone who loves her like she loves them. To share things with. To depend on.
Things with Colin feel like they are spiraling out of control lately. It’s hot and fun in the moment, but when the moment is over she is reminded of her one sided feelings and how they aren’t together.
She feels herself living in anxiety about it. She’s constantly doubting herself, their friendship, what this all means.
And she craves stability. The lack of it is frying her.
Penelope grew up in a very unstable home environment. Her father had a terrible gambling problem, leaving their house for long periods of time, and eventually dying from a heart attack when Penelope was younger. Her mother had tried to have some semblance of normal for her and her sisters, but her father had left a large amount of debt, and the family was in a total upheaval until Portia had sorted out their finances many years later.
Part of her wants to be brave and tell Colin about her feelings for him. That she wants them to be more. That she wants them to belong to each other.
But the more realistic part of her will never let that happen. What would be the point? Colin has never seen her like that. Yes, he finds her attractive and likes to fuck her, but he doesn’t want to date her.
And she knows this because…well, because he’s never given her any indication of that. They’ve known each other for years. Have been friends for years. And never once has he hinted at any kind of feelings toward her.
Meanwhile, she's harbored a not-so-subtle crush on him since the moment she met him.
And even if he did have feelings for her, it would never work.
Their lives are speeding in two different directions. He is a full time travel content creator who works for a travel agency. She is a full time editor for a local publishing firm in London. He is always gone. She is always here.
It is clear that he has no plans to settle down anytime soon.
She needs someone who is available. She needs someone who can reciprocate her feelings.
Bonus points if they can look just like Colin and boss her around a bit in bed.
Penelope sighs again to herself.
It was time to end this mind fuck of an arrangement with him. Last night was the last time.