Chapter Text
Here’s a hypothetical: what do you say to the man who just bent you over in front of the Ritz crackers at your mother’s house?
Thankfully, as they redressed and attempted to clean up, they were so busy trying to catch their breath it really excused any conversation. Penelope was at a loss for what to do after that, though.
Dishevelled and uncomfortably sticky, Penelope cleared her throat as she opened the pantry. The light was bright after the darkness of the small space, and its harshness made the reality of what had just happened that much more stark.
Behind her, Colin followed her, seemingly as at a loss for words as she was. Probably for the best. She was nearly entirely sure that she wouldn’t like what he had to say anyway.
Reaching under the counter she pulled out the tray, cursing madeleines more than she’d ever cursed any baked good. It was their fault she’d just had the most earth-shattering sex of her entire life. Bastards.
Colin stood at the entrance to the kitchen, clearly unsure of what to do, or say.
“Pen…” he started.
“It’s okay,” she said, hoping to cut off any chance of this conversation in general, but definitely while she was at her mother’s house. She’d had enough excruciating conversations there. Willing him to pick up her hints, she added; “we should go.”
Colin stood for a moment, seemingly unsure, but then turned and headed down the hall to the front door. She followed, thanking the lord he seemed to have let it go for now.
Colin slowed as he reached the door, though, and he paused completely as he reached for the door handle. He turned slightly, frowning, and she felt her face mirror his in confusion.
“Wha-” she began to ask before Colin quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
“Your mother is out there still,” he hissed and Penelope’s life flashed before her eyes.
She hadn’t left.
This whole time.
This whole time.
Jesus fuck.
It was a minor miracle her mother hadn’t heard them or come back inside the house while she was getting fucked good and proper by the nice Bridgerton boy from across the road.
She stood, unable to move, while she processed this information.
She leaned forward, trying to hear, but Colin’s large frame blocked her from getting close to the door.
“She’s talking to Mrs Varley, I think,” Colin whispered, eyes squinting as he concentrated. Penelope whimpered against his big palm, distractedly noticing it smelt like…sex. Fuck. What even was this day?
Thoughts sped through her mind and she tried to decide what to do. Was her mother planning on coming back in? Was she inviting Mrs Varley for tea? They loved bitching about every single person they ever met over biscuits, it was their favourite thing.
Panicking, Penelope looked around. If she hadn’t wanted to see her mother before, she certainly didn’t want to now. Their combined cum was forming a stain on her pants for Christ’s sake.
Spotting the coat closet, she made a snap decision and for the second time that day, dragged Colin into an enclosed, dark space.
Panting, she whispered an apology to Colin and was relieved when he chuckled in response. There really weren’t too many people who would be so okay with being shoved in cupboards by her, and she appreciated that.
She waited for the heartbeat in her head to slow a little, and thanked the lord the closet was bigger than the pantry. There was even a small shelf she could sit on. She leaned against it heavily. What a fucking day.
In the dim light, she could see Colin watching her contemplatively. There were two doors between the two of them and her mother now, so there wasn’t quite so much need to be quiet, and Penelope realised with horror that Colin might take advantage of that. It wasn’t like she couldn’t escape.
Sure enough, about thirty seconds later, Colin spoke, voice low and rumbly and fucking delicious.
“Penelope…”
God, not the full name. Was she wet again or was it just his cum leaking out of her? An objectively insane question to be asking herself, yet here she was, asking it.
“Colin, we don’t have to talk about this…” she all but pleaded.
He frowned.
“I’m fairly certain we do have to talk about this, Pen. You’re my best friend and we just had sex in a pantry,” he whispered incredulously.
Well. He had her there.
She sighed. It was best to get this out of the way, she supposed.
“It’s okay, Colin. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she said softly.
Colin looked confused. And a little hurt.
“What?”
Ugh, why was he so obtuse. It made it even more humiliating, somehow. She looked away.
“I know that it only happened, because I was…you know. There.”
There was a pause. She glanced back up and confusion had given way to distaste.
“Excuse me?”
Oh. She’d offended him.
“I’m not judging you Colin,” she whispered hurriedly, “I just don’t expect it to mean anything to you. It’s perfectly normal for you to get turned on with an ass against your dick.”
Despite her explanation, Colin did not look reassured. In fact, he looked decidedly more furious by the second.
“Is that why you think that happened? Because I had an ass against my dick?”
This was going terribly.
“I mean…isn’t it? I know you don’t see me like that, so…” she looked away again. All this close quarters stuff was bullshit. Except when he was making her come, of course. But he wasn’t making her come. He was making her sad. This was her least favourite closet of the day.
When Colin spoke again, his voice was gentle.
“Does that upset you? The thought of me not seeing you that way?”
Penelope didn’t answer. And unfortunately, she knew that would be an answer in itself.
Colin didn’t say anything, and she waited. Waited for placating words, but none came. Instead she heard a soft sound and looked up and when she couldn’t see him, down.
Colin kneeled in front of her, looking up at her warmly. He took her hand and kissed it gently.
“What are you doing?” Penelope stared down at him, even as her body told her exactly what he was doing, her brain could not make it make sense.
“Showing you that I certainly do see you that way…”
He let go of her hand and gently ran his fingers over the waistband of her leggings, making her stomach flip.
“...Showing you that I’ve seen you that way for so long that if I thought you’d ever feel the same way I would have pulled you into a pantry a long time ago….”
He tugged down her leggings and underwear at once, no finesse, dragging them until they were bunched at her ankles. She shivered as the air hit her wetness.
“...and showing you that that won’t be the last time that happens, if you don’t want it to be. It won’t even be the last time today…” his eyes glinted wickedly in the low light and he smiled wider.
He tugged at the fabric and she stepped out of it obediently, bare from the waist down and so turned on she was dizzy.
“Do you want that to be the last time, Penelope?” Colin whispered, looking up at her with his hands on her calves gently.
Penelope knew her mother was still chatting away just outside the front door.
Penelope knew there was no lock on the cupboard door. She’d checked it when she came in.
Penelope could see the yellow umbrella she used to use as a child stashed under some coats in the corner, bright and covered in cartoon bees. She could feel the edge of the wooden shelf used for shoes against her bare buttocks.
She looked down at Colin and swallowed thickly.
“No.”
Colin exhaled heavily and smiled.
“Thank God,” he said and buried his face between her legs.
She gasped and sat more heavily on the shelf behind her, allowing Colin to spread her legs wider. She watched, enraptured, as he began ravenously licking between her thighs and all over her cunt, seeking out their joint spend and consuming it like it was the last meal on earth.
He moaned, and she thanked the lord it was muffled by her skin, and that she got to be the skin that muffled it.
Finally, he seemed happy with his efforts to clean her up and wasted no time delving into her with his tongue, licking her long and sloppily, like he couldn’t get enough.
This was the worst idea she’d ever had. This was the best idea she’d ever had. It felt so fucking good. So good she wanted to scream and moan and rant and tear the whole house down.
She reached down to grip his hair and felt his growl in approval in her core, making her toes curl. He slid his fingers into her and lapped at her clit, curling them inside her so she arched deliciously, desperately biting off whimpers before they could leave her mouth.
Colin gazed up at her, eyes bright and dark, watching her as she squirmed on his mouth. He was rubbing tantalising circles against her insides, tongue flat as he licked her over and over. Her eyes rolling back, she was so fucking close to coming already.
It was killing her not to scream, writhe, call his name and beg him to never stop. She was already planning all the ways he could fuck her, all the places she’d let him touch, kiss and own. And as he drove her crazy with each flick of his tongue, each stroke of his fingers, each look of depravity in his eyes, she wound higher and higher, stuffing her knuckles in her mouth so she didn’t scream.
Her eyes were rolling back again when she felt him removing his mouth from her. She whimpered, looking down to see why he stopped, and immediately understood. He wanted her to watch him, and held her eye contact as he went down on her once more, slowly swirling his tongue over her clit before latching onto it and sucking, hard.
Penelope’s scream, if it hadn’t been into the skin of her hand, would have been bloodcurdling, and she felt her knees buckle before realising he wasn’t stopping. In fact, he kept sucking, and she wriggled, trying to move away as he held her hip, keeping her there. He angled his fingers just so, and then fucked her hard and fast, earning more muffled groans as her vision blacked out and she came again, hard and with a gush.
She slumped against the shelf, extremities completely numb, hearing the sound of Colin licking up her cum somewhere far away. Her legs shook and her ears were ringing, heart beating so hard she could hear it in her head.
Eventually, she opened her eyes to see Colin still on his knees, gazing up at her fondly. She gave a shaky breath, and tried to focus on sounds that weren’t coming from inside her.
“Colin,” she whispered, “are they still out there? Can you hear them?” She was exhausted, and hoped to dear God Colin had managed to keep some awareness of his surroundings. He smiled at her softly, and began putting her feet through the holes of her underwear.
“They’re gone, Pen,” he said.
She gave a sigh of relief, but was confused.
“How do you know they’re gone? Did you hear them leave?”
Colin slid her underwear up to her knees, before starting on her leggings.
“Yes.”
“How?” Penelope knew she was the one whose world was getting rocked, but she wasn’t sure how Colin would have brought her to that state without concentrating pretty hard.
“I heard her leave while we were heading into the closet” he said calmly, gesturing for her to stand so he could pull her pants up all the way. She obeyed absentmindedly, trying to understand the words he’d just said.
“Sorry?”
“No, I’m sorry Pen. I was just trying to get you to talk to me, I didn’t think it would turn into, well…” he gestured at her increasingly ruined pants. Penelope stared at him.
“You mean we didn’t have to be in a closet at all?” She couldn’t fucking believe it. Colin smirked.
“I mean, agree to disagree. I think I’m developing the opposite of claustrophobia.”
Penelope wanted to be mad, she really did. Maybe she’d just had too many orgasms. Maybe it was physically impossible. It felt physically impossible. She sighed.
“Well, let’s go before she actually does come back, Jesus Christ,” she grabbed the pan that started it all from the floor. “But if you think I’m making you madeleines after all this, you’re insane,” she warned as she opened the closet door.
Colin nodded solemnly as he followed her out.
“Fine by me. I’d rather eat your pussy anyway,” he shrugged.
Jesus fucking Christ.