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“So, that’s it then,” he said, his voice dark, a burning anger vibrating at the edges. “You intend to accept his proposal.”
Penelope bit her lip as she watched Colin pace Anthony’s study, his shoulders and jaw tensed. He refused to look at her.
Only moments before they’d been laughing amongst the crowds in the Bridgerton ballroom, sipping on champagne as waiters and debutantes and bachelors swirled around them. But the warm golden candlelight, the sounds of strings, the roar of laughter were but a distant memory now. Stark in contrast to Anthony’s study, where only a few candles were lit, shadows striking and harsh against the walls, the smell of tobacco and whisky and mahogany closing in on her.
Colin had practically dragged her there, the clunk of the lock dropping into place weighing heavy on her chest, signalling that they were entirely alone. That he meant for them to be alone. Her stomach was twisting into knots at the thought of someone finding them, the danger to her reputation. But Colin had looked so wretched, she couldn’t say ‘no’ to him.
She had thought he’d be happy for her. Glad even, that his plan to find her a suitor had come to fruition. And strange as Lord Debling might be with his eccentricities, he was a kind man, wealthy too. He would offer Penelope the independence she craved.
Instead, Colin seemed to be furious.
Finally, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes flashing as he looked at her. “Marry me,” he said, his voice like gravel, his eyes like steel.
Penelope’s heart leapt at his words, her eyes widening. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered. She hardly believed he’d said it, so outrageous was his request.
He shook his head and stalked towards her, shadows flickering across his features. “Marry me.”
Instinctively, she stepped back, until her backside was pressed against Anthony’s desk. “Colin,” she breathed. “Have you lost your senses?”
Colin stepped closer to her, his towering height and his broad shoulders all but ensconcing her against the desk. “I have never been more clear of mind,” he murmured. “Marry me.”
Penelope shook her head, twisting her hands as she kept her eyes locked on his chest, unable to meet his eyes. This was everything she had ever dreamed of, yet it felt like something out of one of her nightmares.
Fear clenched her chest, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Lord Debling is a good match, Colin,” she said quietly, her voice catching on the poisonous knot in her throat. “He is-”
“He is not worthy of you,” Colin growled, placing his hands on her shoulders. They were heavy and warm through the thin fabric of her seafoam ball gown.
Penelope squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the way his scent of soap and champagne and spices overwhelmed her. “I should thank you,” she said. “You have been a wonderful friend and-”
“So, you deny me?”
Penelope swallowed, rolling her shoulders back as she gathered up her courage and opened her eyes to look at him. Her stomach flipped at the sight. His expression was dark, searching, fierce.
“I never would have made such a match as this without your help, Colin,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she ignored his unseemly marriage proposal. “I wish I could show you my appreciation in some way. Perhaps I could put you in touch with my publisher? Or I could edit your writing?”
His jaw twitched as he tilted his head and considered her, wetting his lips. “You would like to thank me?”
Penelope could hear the faint sound of a quadrille playing in the ballroom. “Perhaps we could discuss it back at the ball?”
Colin reached a hand up and gently pushed a loose curl that had been hanging by her cheek behind her ear. She sucked in a breath as goosebumps scattered across her skin. He kept his palm against her jaw and she couldn’t help but lean into the tender way he was touching her. “A kiss,” he whispered.
Penelope’s mouth dropped open, her knees wobbling. “Pardon?” she asked, thinking she’d misheard him.
Colin gave her a dark smile, his eyes glinting as he held her gaze, his thumb grazing back and forth across her cheek, setting her skin alight. “As a thank you,” he said. “I should like to kiss you.”
Penelope stared at him, her mind racing as to what to say.
The way he had asked for a kiss was as if it were nothing, a simple thing to give away. Yet it felt to her like she was standing at the shore, watching as a crashing, roaring wave hurtled towards her. She scrunched her dress at her sides, leaning back slightly against Anthony’s desk in an attempt to get some space from him to breathe. Everything felt a little hazy, as if the air around her were crackling. “You want to kiss me?”
Colin merely nodded in response, that confident, deadly smile still firmly in place. “As a thank you.”
Penelope’s eyes darted from his face to the door, which was still firmly shut.
Locked.
“Why?” she asked, hearing that foaming, thunderous roar of danger in her ear.
Colin trailed his thumb down her cheek to trace the dips and curves of her mouth, his eyes watched her intently as he dragged at her lower lip. “Because I would like to know what it is like to kiss you,” he said softly. “Once you are married, I shall never have the chance. And you did say you would like to thank me.”
Penelope knew she should decline, that she should make her excuses, and run from the room. She knew that Debling was her future, that Colin was but a dream of her past, and that he should remain so. But a heat was blooming between her thighs; her heart that had been so bruised and battered by him was begging her to indulge him, and her mind was a scrambled mess, overwhelmed by the tension between them.
It was just one kiss.
What was the harm?
So, she took a deep breath and plunged into the ocean.
“You may kiss me,” she whispered, closing her eyes and tilting her lips up toward him. She could almost feel herself tumbling, his current dragging her under. She tried to slow her breathing, licking her lips as she waited for him to press against her.
But he made no movement.
Flushing with humiliation she opened her eyes to look at him again. He seemed to be silently appraising her. “Colin?” she asked tentatively.
“I am considering where I would like to kiss you,” he murmured.
Penelope’s brow furrowed as she pursed her lips. She couldn’t think of another place better than the locked study they were currently in. “Surely here is better than-”
Colin’s index finger trailing down her neck silenced her. “Perhaps I could kiss you here,” he said, idly tracing her collarbone.
Penelope had truly forgotten how to breathe now, her skin all but humming under his light touch.
Colin continued to trail his finger down further, lightly brushing his fingertip over the curve of her breasts. Penelope bit her lip, squirming a little under his touch. It was as if a lightning show was bursting across her skin, every nerve set alight. Colin smiled as if he could sense the torturous delight he was inflicting on her. She was almost relieved when his finger left her skin, gliding over the glittering fabric of her dress. But then he started to draw patterns over her breast, her nipples puckered at his touch, pressing against her stays as if chasing his journey.
“I could kiss you here,” he whispered hotly, his fingertip brushing over the bud of her nipple.
Penelope whimpered, her cheeks flushing at the pathetic sound. It only seemed to encourage Colin as he continued to torment her through the fabric. A mad part of her yearned to rip her dress off so he could touch her properly.
“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you,” he murmured, lightly pinching her, sending a jolting thrill down her spine. “I’d have you begging.”
Penelope closed her eyes, grabbing the desk behind her and clenching her hands against it, trying to ground herself. “Colin,” she whispered. There was nothing else to say, nothing she could even think of beyond his name and the growing ache between her legs.
He chuckled quietly. “Or perhaps you’d prefer I kiss you somewhere more… dangerous.”
Penelope’s eyes snapped open as his fingers trailed down her stomach, skimming along the fabric and stopping just above her mound. She squeezed her thighs together as she looked up at him in surprise. “That’s not-” she gasped. “You couldn’t.”
Colin raised his eyebrows at her, a challenging gleam in his gaze. “Where should I kiss you, Pen?”
She gaped wordlessly at him, her mind stumbling as she attempted to come up with a response.
Colin leaned toward her, dipping his head so his lips were hot against her ear. “Let me taste you, darling.”
The pet name made her heart stutter. Penelope bit her lip, trembling as she squeezed the table beneath her. “Colin, I- I’m not sure if-”
Colin nipped at her earlobe and she gasped. “Please,” he whispered. “Just a taste, a little kiss.”
Once again, she felt as if she were being pulled into the tide as she breathed, “Yes.”
She felt his hands on her waist before he shifted and reached behind her thighs, lifting her onto the desk. Before she even had time to register what had happened, he stepped between her legs, placing his hands on her knees. “You’ll need to be quiet, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Can you be quiet for me?”
Penelope swallowed and nodded, at once terrified and excited. She was entirely incapable of speech.
“Good girl,” he murmured, before dropping to his knees with a soft rustle of fabric.
She looked down at him in awe, it felt like a dream to see him from this angle, to be looking down at his lustrous dark waves, to see the sharp angles of his face, golden under the dim candlelight. She was tempted to run her hands through his hair, to cup his jaw, to feel the light stubble that had grown there. She wanted to angle his face to look at her, to fall into the dark blue of his eyes, to press her lips against his.
But he was entirely focused on her dress. She watched as he slowly, reverently, dragged the silken fabric up her calves, pushing it up over her knees until the tops of her stockings were revealed. “Will you hold this up for me, darling?” he asked, his eyes watching her intently, that smirk still on his lips.
Penelope nodded dumbly, gathering the fabric in her hands and watching in awe as he gently pushed her knees apart. His eyes dropped to her centre and embarrassment hit her, flooding hot through her veins. She tried to close her knees but he kept them firmly apart.
He glanced up at her again. He looked like the consummate gentleman with his cravat tied neatly at his neck, his vest and jacket a dark blue, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, not a hair out of place. But his eyes were burning embers, speaking to something far more rakish than he appeared.
“It is only a kiss,” he whispered. “Just one kiss, as a thank you.”
Penelope nodded, relaxing her knees against his hands. She would allow him one kiss. And then they’d be done. She’d have thanked him. She would marry Debling.
She jerked as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the soft skin of her inner thigh, just above where her stockings were tied with ribbons, his stubble grazing her. Colin groaned against her, the vibration sending a thrill up her spine. Penelope could do nothing but watch as he moved closer and closer to her hot centre, his hands firm in keeping her thighs spread. She could feel her wetness gathering there, the ache between her thighs throbbing. She was embarrassed again for a moment that he might be disgusted at her bodily reaction to him. And then she felt his tongue, hot and wet, lick a stripe up her seam.
She yelped and he pulled away, arching a smug brow at her. “You promised you’d be quiet.”
Penelope quickly nodded, “Sorry, I-”
But her words were cut off as he pressed forward and licked another long, heated stripe. She curled her fingers helplessly, her thighs pushing against his hands. It was such a strange yet wondrous feeling. He continued to caress her with his tongue, again and again, laving through her folds.
He moaned against her as he continued to explore as if he were devouring a most delicious meal. She could feel her thighs starting to tremble, her hips canting up toward him, utterly out of her control. She was chasing his tongue now, silently begging for more pressure.
Then he sucked at the apex of her mound, the bundle of nerves there exploding under his pressure. She fell back on her hands, nearly collapsing from the shock of it. Colin laughed lightly against her.
“Are you enjoying it, darling?” he asked lightly as if commenting on the weather. “Would you like me to kiss you a little longer?”
“Please,” she gasped, wantonly spreading her legs, all dignity forgotten.
Colin shot her a devilish smirk, his lips shining before he surged forward, massaging his lips against that special spot. She gasped and whimpered above him as her back arched. She bit her lip, tasting metallic blood as she tried to restrain the moans that threatened to escape her. Then he sucked again and she cried out as a thunderous wave of pleasure stormed through her.
Colin pulled away and she wanted to weep.
“You must be quiet,” he whispered.
Penelope nodded, hot tears burning at the corners of her eyes. “Please,” she begged, her voice tearing in her throat. “Just a little more.”
Colin nodded before leaning forward to capture her bud in his mouth again. She squirmed underneath him, sparks of light shooting through her. She felt his hand warm on her belly, pushing her back on the desk. She was butter, melting beneath him as she lay back. Then she felt his tongue move down to her entrance, circling her.
He pushed into her and she threw her forearm across her mouth, biting down on her skin as she cried out, the sound dampened by her flesh. Colin pressed in deeper, his tongue stroking in and out of her. But it wasn’t enough, she needed more, despite not knowing what that more was. She just knew that she felt as if she were empty.
Still, her entire body burned, she could feel the heat building and building from between her legs, spreading to the tips of her fingers. She twitched and jerked beneath him, her thighs clamping around his head as she felt herself falling closer and closer to an edge she wanted desperately to throw herself over.
Suddenly, all she felt was stinging, icy cold.
Colin had stood abruptly, moving away from her.
She gasped, rushing to pull the fabric of her dress down as she glanced toward the door, her heart in her throat. She expected to see Anthony there, perhaps her mother, someone horrified. Instead, the door remained shut. It was just her and Colin in the room.
Colin, for his part, was breathing heavily, as he unwrapped his cravat and used it to wipe his mouth before shoving it in his jacket pocket. Penelope flushed at the mess she had made. She was confused and still very much lost in the haze, her body begging for his heat to return.
Yet, he seemed unconcerned. He was watching her carefully, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Marry me,” he said, his voice a little hoarse.
Penelope’s eyes widened. “You cannot be serious,” she breathed.
He smiled sardonically at her, stepping closer and caging his arms around her on the desk. He breathed in her ear, the heat covering her in gooseflesh. “Marry me.”
Penelope trembled at his tone, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts. There was a reason she shouldn’t marry him, she knew there was. She had a suitor. “Colin, I can’t.”
Colin hummed against her. “Do you want me to stop?”
Penelope closed her eyes, searching herself for an inkling of willpower. “No,” she whispered.
“Then you should marry me.”
Penelope jerked back. “You know I cannot.”
Colin’s eyes darted between her lips and her eyes, considering her. His throat bobbed as he seemed to come to a decision. “Perhaps it would not be so bad to take things a little further,” he whispered, his voice almost teasing, wicked. “Just a little.”
Penelope felt like she might faint. “Yes,” she said. “Just a little more.”
He pressed his lips against the crook of her neck, his hand sliding under her dress, pushing it up again before his thumb started rubbing light circles against the apex of her mound. She moaned at the burst of heated pleasure, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him closer.
Colin grunted against her neck, his thumb still touching her lightly even as he sucked at her skin, sending sparks down her spine. She arched up against him, pressing her breasts against his firm chest. She yearned to rip off their clothing, to strip them both bare so that she could feel him properly. She reached for his vest, unbuttoning it, before he placed a hand on hers, stilling her.
“I will not be able to stop myself if you do that, Pen,” he rasped. “We must remain clothed.”
Penelope whimpered. “Please, Colin, I need– I need–” She bit her lip, unsure of what she was asking for.
Colin brought his mouth to hers, swallowing her words. It was only then that she realised he hadn’t kissed her on the lips yet. He tasted like champagne and… and her.
She moaned as he traced her lips with his tongue, sucking her lower lip into his mouth for a moment. She gasped at the zing of pain and his tongue delved into her open mouth. She felt desperate as she returned his passion, her tongue gliding against his, attempting to devour him. She had no idea what she was doing, but she let her body take over.
She reached down to press his hand more firmly against her, rutting her hips as she did. Colin pulled away again, placing a hand on her wrist, and she whined. “Please.”
He nodded and moved his hand back between her legs, pressing a finger at her entrance. “Is this where you want me?”
She nodded, her eyes wide and desperate. “Yes.”
Slowly, his gaze still locked with hers, he pushed his finger inside her. She felt her eyes roll back in her head as she stretched around him, finally feeling relief.
Colin hissed, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. “You’re so tight, darling,” he whispered. “So wet and needy. So eager to be filled.”
Penelope felt the heated filth of his words thrum through her, she shifted, attempting to move against his finger, to find friction.
He took mercy on her, dragging his finger very nearly out of her before pushing it back in. Her oversensitive centre throbbed with pleasure, clenching down on him.
Colin groaned. “You take me so well, sweetheart, don’t you see you were made for me?”
Penelope wanted to cry, she could feel her throat swelling. His slow movements, his words, it was torment. “Colin, I-”
“Marry me,” he said.
“I can’t,” she all but sobbed, the backs of her eyes burning.
Colin pulled away from her and she instantly reached for his forearm, clenching at the thick fabric of his jacket. “Don’t leave me like this.”
He looked torn at her words, his teeth running along his lower lip, his brow furrowed. “Pen,” he whispered. “We cannot go much further. Not if you will not marry me.”
“Please, Colin,” she breathed.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop,” he said softly, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“Just a little more,” Penelope whispered, her voice catching.
Colin reached for her hand and rested it at the front of his breeches. She sucked in a breath at the hot, hard heat she felt beneath the rough fabric. “Do you see how much I want you?” he growled. “I’m not sure I can–”
His words were cut off as Penelope ran her hand along his length. He groaned loudly, his head dropping forward. She felt her mouth begin to water, even as a shiver of fear ran through her.
Colin closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before gently pushing her hand away. Penelope opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself when she realised he was untying the laces of his breeches.
“We’ll just ease the pressure,” he said, quietly, as if he were convincing himself. “We won’t take it too far.”
Penelope nodded, her eyes fixated on his breeches. “Yes,” she whispered. “Only a little more.”
Colin undid the last of his laces, releasing his manhood. She sucked in a breath at the sight, even larger than she’d imagined when she felt him, the tip leaking. Without thought, she reached for it, wrapping her hand around his girth and marvelling at the heat and strength of it, the velvety skin.
Colin hissed as she moved her hand up him, making her snatch it away. “I’m sorry!”
He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. “Do not apologise,” he whispered against her lips. “It feels glorious.”
Penelope smiled, reaching for him again, but he stopped her.
“We agreed not to take this too far,” he admonished.
Penelope furrowed her brow but didn’t say anything, she had no idea what too far was.
Colin reached a hand down and squeezed himself, dragging his hand up and down his length, before stepping closer to her. “I’m just going to rub against you,” he muttered. “Just for a few moments.”
Penelope nodded eagerly, grabbing her dress and hiking it up around her waist again as she spread her thighs. Colin stepped in between them, still holding himself. She looked down to watch, groaning at the sight of him rubbing his head between her folds.
His tip shone as it glided through her wetness, softly grinding against that bundle of nerves at the top of her apex. She canted her hips against him, chasing him. He felt so good against her, every brush against her bud sending another charge through her.
Yet she ached for more.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her forehead against him so she could watch as he continued to thrust against her.
“Colin,” she whimpered. “I need more.”
A deep, grumbling groan racked through him. “Marry me,” he hissed.
She shook her head, no. She couldn’t. Although, she’d entirely forgotten why.
She expected him to make his demand again, almost wanting him to so she could cave. Instead, he thrust harder, as if he, too, had entirely lost control of himself now.
“Perhaps just the tip, then,” he gasped, his voice sounding wrecked. “Nothing more. I won’t ruin you.”
“Please,” she whispered. She needed him inside her, just a little bit.
He angled her hips up and she felt the head of his manhood press against her opening, felt herself stretching luxuriously around him. They both looked down between them, watching as Colin gently moved inside her. Just the tip, his hand around his length as if to physically restrain himself from going any deeper. It took everything within her not to wrap her legs around him and drag him further in.
“Does that feel good, darling?” Colin whispered.
“More,” she gasped, feeling herself clench around him.
Colin groaned, cursing under his breath, his words like fire across her skin. She could feel something deep within her pulsing, burning, like she was once again hurtling toward a cliff. Colin’s jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense as he watched his careful movements.
“I need you to marry me or tell me to stop, Pen,” he said quietly, his voice tight.
Penelope shifted beneath him, whimpering as she felt more of him enter her before he pulled back again. “I can’t,” she whispered.
Colin groaned. “Please.”
She clenched again, feeling her centre throb as she stretched around him, feeling a little more of him edge into her. “Please don’t stop,” she breathed. “I need you.”
Colin bit down on her shoulder, holding himself still. “Marry me.”
“I ca-”
“Marry me,” he repeated, his voice more demanding this time. “Marry me so I can make you mine.”
Penelope whined, every reason to say no evaporating from her. She just needed him to move.
“Please, Pen,” he whispered, his voice softer, more vulnerable. “I love you. Let me make you mine.”
Penelope’s heart leapt into her throat, her eyes burning, she turned her head to whisper in his ear. “I already am yours, Colin.”
Colin was breathing heavily, his body like marble, still not moving. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
Slowly, Colin started to move, sliding further into her. She felt a deep burn as her body stretched around him. He paused a moment, his breath hot and heavy against her neck.
She whined, she felt so full. She looked down, expecting to find them fully connected, for him to be completely seated within her. She gasped when she saw there was still another inch or so to go.
“You can take it,” he whispered, as if sensing her fear. “You’re doing so well, my love.”
Penelope nodded, breathing deeply and spreading her legs further. Colin pushed further in, and she keened, her body aflame. How could one feel such pleasure with such pain? He kissed her lips gently, his tongue gliding slowly into her mouth. She allowed herself to lose herself in his kiss, her body relaxing as she tasted him.
She felt him shift again, pressing further into her, this time, her body felt as if she were swallowing him. She was so needy for him, so eager. He pulled away, gasping for breath and smiled at her, cupping her face, his eyes shining.
“My wife,” he whispered.
Penelope could do naught but return his smile, tears prickling at her eyes again as she felt a swell of emotion. She wasn’t sure if he had lost his mind, if this was a mere moment of passion or if he was genuine in his feelings. But none of that mattered at this moment; she was with the man she loved. Those questions could wait.
He reached down to grab her hips, angling her so that he could press further into her. And they were completely joined. They stayed like that for a moment, rocking slightly, the burning slowly easing, the warm hum of pleasure returning. She felt full as if she were indeed made for him, and until now, she hadn’t realised just how empty she’d been.
He pressed his forehead against hers, their breaths intermingling. “You’re mine,” he whispered.
Penelope trembled in his arms.
“Tell me,” he hissed, his words hot, urgent.
“I’m yours,” she breathed, feeling as if she were making a vow.
Colin pressed his lips against hers. “And I’m yours.”
She felt his words wrap around her heart. She felt at once possessed and possessive, as if they were a part of each other now. Her body was thrumming, that heat blooming and burning, her skin sparking.
Colin started moving, slowly at first, gently.
Tentatively, she started to match him, moving her hips with him. She could hear the sounds of a soaring waltz in the distance and idly thought that this was a kind of dance, too.
The desk creaked beneath them as their movements quickened, his thrusts deeper. Her breaths became heavy with exertion, her heart hammering in her chest. Colin’s skin shone, his lips swollen as he pressed them against her; kissing her neck, her cheeks, her lips, any part of her he could reach.
“You’re mine,” he whispered over and over again. “My wife.” His hands were firm and near bruising at her hips, holding her in place as he slammed into her.
Penelope moaned, every now and then a breathy “yes” ripping from her lips. She could feel a pressure building within her, as if her body was on the edge of exploding. Each time he pushed into her, she felt another wave of vibrant, wonderful, heated pleasure. She vaguely heard the sound of papers flying and the crash of a ceramic inkpot as the table shook beneath her, but neither she nor Colin bothered to react to the mess. None of that was important when this feeling was overwhelming her.
Colin reached up to grab her breast, rubbing at her nipple through the fabric and growling as if furious at the ballgown in his way. He tugged her dress down, the fabric ripping in his haste, until her nipple was exposed to the cool air.
Penelope cried out as he wrapped his lips around her peak, sucking and swirling his hot tongue around her. He teased and tormented her, biting her, shooting delicious jolts of pain and bliss straight to her core. She moaned and keened beneath him, no longer attempting to stay quiet. She could feel her walls clenching around his manhood. She arched up against him, her hips bucking as her legs jerked.
And finally, she exploded.
Her mouth was stretched wide as she let out a ragged moan. She tumbled through the waves of pleasure. Her body felt as though it were lit from within, her skin tingling, her heart racing. Her mind completely blank, free and soaring.
She was utterly at his mercy as Colin kept up his punishing pace, dragging his lips away from her breasts as he lost himself in her. His face was tense, his eyes wild, his hair damp against his forehead.
“I must pull away,” he hissed. “I cannot spill my seed in you.”
Penelope whimpered, feeling the heat return in her belly, the ache starting to throb. She wrapped her legs tighter around him. She couldn’t bear the thought of them parting. Not yet.
“Please,” she whispered. “Just a little more.”
“I won’t be able to stop,” he growled, gripping her thighs.
“I don’t want you to.”
Colin let out a deep groan at her words, his jaw contorting in pleasure as his hips stuttered against her. She held him in place as she felt his white hot seed spill within her.
He collapsed against her, nuzzling the crook of her neck. They stayed like that a while, both panting, still connected, their clothes in disarray. She faintly heard the laughter of partygoers, the tick of a clock in the corner, the steadying thump of her heart.
There was a crash in the distance, glass breaking, and Colin slowly pulled away from her. He took his cravat from his pocket and carefully cleaned her. Penelope couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She felt self-conscious, terrified that she might see regret in his eyes. He’d made so many promises in their moment of passion. But she’d hardly be the first unmarried woman to be seduced and then spurned.
Once he was done, she moved off the desk, straightening her dress, and tucking her exposed breasts back into it. She grimaced as she noted the rip in the fabric; Genevieve would have some questions for her.
Everyone would have questions for her.
She felt a flood of hot panic in her stomach, her cheeks flushing. The entire ton would know; they would take one look at her and see that she was ruined. Lord Debling would never propose to her now.
And Colin would…
Colin would…
She was pulled from her thoughts as he stepped toward her and kissed her softly, languorously, before reaching up to fix some of the pins in her hair. His eyes were sparkling, a wide grin stretching his cheeks.
“Colin,” she started, searching for the right words.
“We look a mess,” he said with a light laugh, sweeping a hand through his tousled and slightly damp hair. “We will need a special licence.”
Penelope’s eyes widened. “Colin, do not feel that I will hold you to what you said.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “I’m not sure I follow you, Pen.”
“No one need know,” she said softly, ignoring the way her throat was thickening. “It was a moment of passion, I would never expect you to– to–”
“Is that what it was to you?” he asked, his jaw clenching. “A moment of passion?”
Penelope shrugged hesitantly. “What would you call it?”
Colin folded his arms across his chest. “A marriage proposal.”
“Colin, I don’t–”
“I meant everything I said, Penelope, did you?”
Penelope swallowed thickly. “Yes, of course, but–”
“You cannot marry another after what we have just done,” said Colin firmly.
Penelope felt herself bristle at his tone. “I know that, but–”
“Well, then,” said Colin, “I understand if you do not love me in return but I will be a good and loyal husband, and perhaps, with time, love can grow.”
Penelope stared at him, her mind reeling as she attempted to keep up with the conversation. “But I do love you,” she blurted.
Colin’s shoulders seemed to instantly relax, that joyous, bright smile returning to his features. “Well, that settles it then,” he said, bouncing on his feet.
Penelope could only nod, a swell of something bubbly and light flooding her. She felt like she might burst into laughter or tears.
Colin gave her an appraising look before reaching for her hand. “I’d ask you to dance but I fear I may have ruined your dress…”
She glanced down at her gown and grimaced at the tear at her decolletage. “I cannot be seen like this.”
“Come,” said Colin, tugging her toward the door. “We’ll sneak out the servant’s entrance and take my carriage.”
“But I only live across the square,” she replied, her brows knitted. “I can walk.”
“Nonsense,” said Colin, shaking his head at her.
“And besides, should we be in your carriage alone together?” She blushed, as she realised there really wasn’t much point in worrying for her virtue now.
Colin gave her a mischievous smile, his eyes dancing. “Probably not,” he said. “In fact, I very much intend on seducing you again.”
“Oh, well, that’s–” If it were possible, her blush deepened, just as that warmth in her belly bloomed again.
Colin raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to finish.
She swallowed, allowing a smile to spill on her lips. “Well, then we’d best take the long way home.”