RUST - Chapter 5 - A Polin Fic
Chapter 5 – The Night Before
Right.
That’s the word that crashed through him the instant her mouth met his.
It just felt so bloody right.
Like everything inside of him had finally slotted into place after years of being slightly off kilter.
The kiss barely lasted a second, a mere brush of her lips, but it was like touch paper to him, fire igniting instantly and storming through his entire body.
The same fire that had flared under the mistletoe.
The same glorious rush that had left him breathless and shaken.
The same force of feeling that had called out to emotions he’d long buried deep within himself.
And then, with a sudden clarity that made his head spin, the truth hit him.
He had been lying to himself ever since they’d pulled away from the service station…
That first kiss hadn’t meant nothing, it had been the beginning of this - the slow weakening of a control he now realised he had no real desire to reclaim. All the years of restraint, of caution, of telling himself that wanting too much only ever led to hurt had started to crumble the moment his lips had first touched hers.
He hadn’t been resisting temptation as he’d thought. No, he’d simply been delaying the inevitable.
His fingers flexed around her wrist and he leaned in again, chasing her mouth with a low, rough sound torn from somewhere deep in his chest. This time the kiss was demanding, his mouth claiming hers with an intent that was hungry and unguarded.
She responded immediately.
Her lips parted beneath his and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding sensuously against hers, drawing from her a soft moan that had his body tightening even further with desire.
The need for air finally forced him to break away, his breathing uneven as the heat between them lingered heavily.
When he opened his eyes, she was already looking at him. Her pupils blown wide, lips parted, chest heaving.
“Colin,” she whispered, and the sound of his name sent a low thrill spiralling through him.
For years he had trained himself to pull back at moments like this; but here, now, with her so open and warm, the instinct to withdraw simply…didn’t come.
Slowly, he released her wrist, his fingers sliding away only to grasp the edge of the duvet. He shifted it aside removing the last barrier between them. His hand came back to her then, settling gently at her waist as he guided her back against the cushions of the sofa.
She went willingly, trusting him with the movement, her gaze never leaving his.
He followed her down, bracing himself over her, giving her time to object if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
Instead, her hands went to his neck, fingers slipping into his hair before she tugged just enough to pull a low groan from his chest.
He really, really liked that.
Bending his head, he captured her lips in an urgent kiss, driven by the simple, undeniable truth that whatever restraint he’d once relied on no longer seemed to exist.
Again and again their lips met, the heat between them rising with every breath, every touch. His hands began to roam, eager but unhurried, until his fingers skimmed along the hem of her jumper before slipping beneath it. He moved slowly, giving her every chance to stop him as he traced the soft curve of her stomach.
When his hand reached the warm, silky underside of her bra, he stilled.
With considerable effort, he tore his mouth away from hers and looked down at her aroused face. He needed to slow, to think, before the last of his self-control gave way entirely.
“Pen,” he gasped, voice rough. “You need to tell me if you don’t want this. If you want me to stop.”
She gazed back at him, lips swollen from his kisses, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and unwavering. Then, very deliberately, she placed her hand over his beneath her jumper and guided it higher, pressing it firmly where she wanted it to be.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she told him with certainty. “I just want you. Now.”
He drew in a sharp breath at her words, then let it out on a slow, unsteady exhale, the last of his resolve slipping away.
He stayed there for a moment longer, hovering over her as he tried to gather himself. The world had narrowed to the warmth beneath his hand, the way she was looking at him and the startling realisation that, deep, deep inside, this was something that he’d wanted for a very long time.
He swallowed hard. He needed to take her in properly.
Not just feel her, but see her too.
He eased back just enough to give them both space and reluctantly removed his hand.
“Colin?” she whispered, uncertainty colouring her tone when he paused.
“It’s nothing,” he assured her, with a slight shake of his head. “I just…I want…I mean, I’d like to see you. All of you.”
Her eyes widened slightly and then she nodded. With a slightly self-conscious smile, she sat up and reached for the hem of her jumper. It caught on her head for a moment as she tried to get it off and Colin reached out to help her pull it free. Her curls tumbled down around her shoulders and he discarded the jumper as she reached around her back and deftly undid her bra. That followed her top onto the floor and Colin drew in a shaky breath as he gazed at her full, round breasts, then back up to her eyes.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured and heard her breath catch at his words.
His hands itched to reach out and touch her but before he could, Penelope was reaching out for him instead. Fingers slipped beneath the edge of his jumper causing a shudder to run through him and then she quickly tugged it up and over his head along with the t-shirt beneath. Their elbows knocked as he lifted his arms to try and aid her and she let out a giggle at their eager clumsiness.
He laughed along with her, low and disbelieving that this was actually happening, and from then on it was a blur of hands and clothing as they helped each other strip off completely.
For a moment, neither of them moved as they took in each other’s bodies, all hard lines and soft curves.
“Still okay?” he asked quietly, his gaze fixing on hers.
She nodded immediately.
“Yes.”
He smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips, her cheeks, her neck and lower still. Gentle hands cupped and kneaded firm mounds of flesh before trailing down silky skin to her hot, wet centre. Inexorably, he brought her to completion with dexterous fingers and heated words that had her body clench and arch as a broken sound wrenched free from her.
He held her as she came down from her high, his body straining with urgent need as she quivered under him.
“Condom,” he muttered as he reached for his jeans and quickly pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and took out a single foil pack, then dropped it back on the floor.
He moved back a little and stilled when he saw her eyes lock on it. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face before she smoothed it away and his stomach dropped a little.
“It’s not…I haven’t…” he blurted out quickly, then stopped, exhaling as he shook his head and held up the packet between them. “It’s habit. Anthony drummed it into me when I was younger. Be prepared. No excuses. So, I’ve always carried one around, even though it’s been a bit redundant for the past few years.” A faint, crooked smile tugged at his mouth. “Until now…and I’ve never been so bloody grateful that I listened to him for once in my life.”
The tension eased from her shoulders almost immediately.
“Oh,” she said, huffing out a quiet laugh. “Me too.” She propped herself up on one elbow and held out her other hand. “Let me.”
For a second, the offer alone nearly ruined him.
He took her hand instead and pressed a kiss into her palm, lingering there before pulling back with a grin. “I don’t think I’m going to last that long as it is, Pen,” he admitted wryly. “If you do it, I know I won’t.”
She let out a surprised giggle then happily settled back against the cushions again, watching him with unmistakable interest.
The awareness of her look sent another sharp pull straight through him.
As if he wasn’t already hard enough.
He sheathed himself with practiced ease, then settled between her welcoming thighs and lined himself up at her entrance. With a roll of his hips, he finally sank into her moist heat. Both of them let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling of completion.
Of being one.
Of how well they fit together.
She wrapped her legs around him, holding him in and then he began to move. Shallowly at first, then harder, deeper, as they found their rhythm. Penelope writhed beneath him, urging him on with her hands, her body, her cries of, ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and ‘there’. He was drowning in the sensation of her, his climax fast approaching and yet, despite his assertions to the contrary, he managed to hold off long enough to watch her face as she fell apart around him with a sharp cry of his name.
And then his eyes closed as his hips faltered and a loud groan escaped him as the intensity of his own release ripped through him without mercy. Wave after wave washed over him, powerful enough to leave him trembling above her, every muscle giving in to the force of it, all at once.
For a moment he held himself above her on sheer willpower alone, before his arms finally gave out and he sagged down against her, breath ragged, heart hammering. Straight away, he tried to push himself back up, conscious of his weight, a half-formed apology already on his lips.
But Penelope’s arms came around him instead, holding him close.
“Stay,” she murmured, and the single word took what little strength he had left.
He let himself sink into her again, careful as he could be, their sweat slicked bodies pressed together as their breathing slowly began to even out. He nuzzled into her neck placing light kisses there while her fingers traced abstract patterns over his back.
They stayed like that for a long moment. Wrapped together in warmth and quiet, the world beyond the sofa forgotten entirely and then he lifted his head just enough to find her mouth again. He kissed her tenderly and when he pulled back, they were both smiling.
It’d left him quietly undone, this unexpected intimacy they’d shared. Disoriented. Deep down he knew that whatever had just passed between them wasn’t something he could easily dismiss as a momentary lapse. Nor could he simply shrug it off or pretend it hadn’t mattered.
Not after the way it had felt.
Not after how completely it had taken hold of him.
They would have to talk about it of course. However much a part of him might not wish to, he knew he couldn’t simply ignore it.
Much like his body, he realised with a faint grimace.
He didn’t want the moment to end, but he could already feel himself softening inside her and with it came the unwelcome awareness that there were things he needed to tend to.
“I’ll just…” he murmured, already shifting carefully, reluctant even now to break the closeness between them.
She nodded and pressed another quick kiss to his lips as he moved away.
He sat up, and Penelope felt her heart flip when he leaned in again to tuck the cover back carefully around her so she wouldn’t get cold. She watched as he turned aside and deftly removed the condom, tying it off before giving a small, involuntary shiver.
His gaze flicked to the fire, now dulled to embers, the sting of cold air already creeping back into the room. With a soft curse, he rose and crossed to the hearth.
Penelope followed him with her eyes, saying nothing.
He placed a couple of logs onto the dying flames, then used the poker to rearrange them until the fire caught again, flaring brighter. The light outlined his bronzed physique to perfection, tracing the breadth of his shoulders and the strength in his back, catching along his sides and the faint curl of dark hair on his chest when he moved. Her skin still tingled from the feel of it against her when he’d held her tight. Muscles rippled as he worked, arms flexing with unselfconscious power, the lines of him relaxed and unguarded.
Penelope bit her lip as her gaze continued to roam hungrily over him. Down to his taut derriere and strong legs, every part of him as she tried to memorise the beauty of his body.
She told herself not to look at him. To not take inventory. To not remember the weight of those arms, the warmth of that chest, the way his muscles had flexed and strained as he’d moved relentlessly and passionately inside her.
But she did.
She had to, because she knew she wouldn’t get another chance like this again.
He turned around and hesitated a moment, glancing down at the used condom.
Her chest tightened. For some odd reason she felt that if he left her to dispose of it, he would come to his senses and the night would be over.
She wasn’t ready for it to end. Not like that. Not yet.
“Leave it,” she urged quietly, then lifted the edge of the cover and shifted aside, making space for him. “You must be freezing. Come and get warm.”
He looked at her then and his expression softened. With a small nod he did as she asked. Climbing back beneath the cover, he settled behind her and slid one arm around her waist, drawing her back flush against him. She let out a slight gasp at just how cold he felt and wriggled against him, trying to lend him her body heat as she arranged the duvet more snugly around them.
She heard him sigh softly as his body eased against hers and found his hand where it rested at her waist, lacing her fingers through his. He responded immediately, drawing her back even closer and nuzzling into her hair, a soft, almost inaudible sound of contentment leaving him as he settled.
She listened to his breathing deepen as sleep pulled him under and told herself that she would be sensible tomorrow. Oh, so very sensible. Because despite what they’d shared, she knew it changed nothing.
She was still leaving.
And Colin did not want love.
This had been an aberration. An interlude. A momentary suspension of reality after a long, difficult day.
Nothing more.
Not for him.
Closing her eyes, she committed the moment to memory; the warmth of him at her back, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the quiet comfort of being held through the night.
And although she’d never thought it would happen between them, she didn’t regret for a second that it had. Not even a little bit.
She loved him.
And if this was all of him that she would ever have, then she would cherish it.
Forever.
Chapter 6