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You climb the rickety staircase inside Shady Belle Manor, gun in one hand and cleaning cloth in the other, gripping the thing for dear life as you run the material over it.
It's been a tough few weeks. The gang has been moving around far too often, drawing way too much attention—Dutch keeps taking things further than necessary and it's got all of the Van Der Linde crew so wound up you could cut the tension with your hunting knife, especially after the whole fiasco with Angelo Bronte.
Arthur says he fed him to an alligator. A fucking alligator.
And speaking of Arthur—which just makes everything that much more frustrating—you've barely been able to spend any time alone together and it feels like you're itching beneath your skin.
He's been so caught up in the midst of all the chaos lately. Dutch is treating him like a lapdog—and if you're feeling irritated you can't even begin to imagine just how annoyed he is. You've seen him stalking around camp, blood all over his shirt and scowl etched deep into his darkened expression. You want nothing more than to curl up by his side at the fire and push your fingers into the knots in his shoulders until he turns to mush against you—but something gives you the feeling that he's yearning for something a little... rougher... than that.
So that's what's got you climbing the stairs inside the abandoned manor, ignoring the curious stares from both Karen and Hosea as they sit in the main room playing cards at one of the broken tables, pretending to clean your gun so you can at least act like you're not about to go see if your cowboy would like to release some of that unyielding pressure inside him.
You tuck your gun neatly into its holster as you reach the door to his bedroom, hesitating a moment before you decide not to knock and just step inside. The door squeaks, announcing your intrusion, and Arthur huffs in surprise, looking up at you from beneath untucked strands of his blond hair.
You freeze, door handle still in your fingers, taking in his wide eyes, hunched down shoulders and thick fingers wrapped around his swollen cock—mid drag, looks like—before you clear your throat softly and allow heat to coarse through you, knees trembling. "Wh—what're you doing?" You manage, just barely, fully stepping into the room and gently closing the door behind you, eyes glued to the man in front of you.
Arthur seems to relax, his own gaze fixed on your face as he begins to stroke himself again, slow, steady, forearm muscles tensing with each movement. "What's it look like?" He rumbles in that deep, crackling voice of his.
The sight of him jerking himself off before you is enough to have your mouth watering. Your lips part and you lick across the bottom one, drawn into the room and closer to him until you can drop to your knees on the hardwood floor, your hands bracing on his knees as you look from his face to the glistening head of his cock and then back again.
"Didn't think to wait for me?" You almost whine—almost. "S'not very fair."
"Shit." Arthur slides his hand down to the base of his length and tilts his head, angling the curve of his dick down toward you. You open your mouth almost on instinct and slide your tongue out, grazing the underside of the head with wetness. "Always busy, darlin', ain't got time."
"We can make the time." You whisper and sit up a little on your knees to take the fullness of the head into your mouth, rolling your tongue around the tip of it.
Arthur moans, long and low. It's been just as excruciating for him to not have touched you in so long, it seems. His hands lift to your head and his fingers slide through the roots of your hair, tugging softly—encouraging, pushing you to take more. "There's my good girl." He practically purrs, and the ache between your legs throbs with excitement.
You run your hands up and down his thighs as you take him deeper into your mouth, your saliva dribbling down his heated skin, pooling at the base and soaking into his undergarments that peek out beneath his trousers. Arthur curls his fingers tighter into your hair and holds your head still as you envelope him as far as you can, you open your throat and feel him touch a place deep inside your mouth that tries to force a response from you, yet you push it down and close your eyes, swallowing uselessly around his thickness as he grunts and gives a few shallow thrusts before he pulls you back off. The sound you make is ragged, spit bubbling from your lips and tears rolling down your cheeks as he cups a hand under your chin and brings your face up.
"Fuckin' look at you." Arthur growls, lip curling up on one side and he looks positively feral. He tilts his head, opens his mouth and drags his tongue up your chin, collecting your saliva and bringing it to your mouth where he presses it back inside. It's hot and sticky and you swallow it, gripping desperately for his shirt as you let him fuck his tongue into your mouth, his large hands cradling your head so gently—a complete contrast to the way he kisses.
Arthur's thighs flex at your sides and then his hold on you tightens as he begins to stand, his hands still carefully wrapped around you as he pulls you up with him, your trembling legs barely holding beneath. His mouth leaves yours and he drops his head to scrape his beard down the side of your face, kissing hungrily at your neck as your head tips back. You're on tiptoe in front of him, one of his hands falling so he can wind his arm around your middle, crushing your bodies together. The hardness of him presses between you, jammed up against your hipbone and seperated from you by your layers of skirts—absolutely too far away.
"Please." You hear yourself whimper, your fingers tugging at your layers to get them up around your middle. "Please, please, Arthur—"
Your undergarments are sticky with sweat and arousal, glued to your skin like a second layer. You shamelessly rut against your cowboy, wondering if you push your clothed body against his hard enough they'll just magically cease to exist, but Arthur has other ideas. He plants his hands on your hips and firmly pushes you away enough for there to be a little bit of space between you and you almost cry at the loss of contact.
"No, sweetheart, we're takin' our time." His jaw flexes and he raises his hands, taking a hold of your forgotten holster and unbuckling the damned thing—letting it and your gun clatter to the floor once it's come off you. "Ain't doin' a goddamned thing 'till I see every last inch of you."
Arthur strips you then—taking his sweet time unbuttoning your shirt, loosening your skirt, pushing your shift off your shoulders—you only grow more impatient with every piece of skin revealed, your body trembling as his calloused hands brush your skin, sunlight warming you through the crack in the curtains to your right. You bite your lip, staring up at him as his fingertips trace up the softness of your tummy, the swell of your breasts, right up to your neck where he cups your cheeks and drags you in for another kiss—one that starts out tender and almost too gentle, but before long is all teeth and tongues and you're breathing hard into Arthur's mouth, your own fingers clawing to get his shirt open so he's on his way to being as naked as you.
It's as if the very air between you is charged—thick, trembling with the rawness of need.
Clothes pile up on the floor and your kisses become nothing but the bumping of open mouths and pained noises of restrained need as you take Arthur's cock in hand at the same time he presses his fingers between your lower lips, both of you dragging slow and steady, free hands gripping, pulling, shoving—then all at once you're splayed across Arthur's tiny bed on your stomach and you don't know how you got there, but before you can try to get your bearings Arthur grabs your hips and lifts, your knees coming up underneath you—propping you up and presenting your lower half to the man behind you.
"Fuckin' perfect." Arthur grunts, and his breath on your wetness and the scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs all the warning you get before his tongue slices flat from your clit to your entrance.
"H-holy shit...!" You choke, stifling the ragged gasp in the blanket below you. There's no fucking way you're going to be able to keep quiet, no way.
Arthur groans, low and delicious in his throat and his hands pull at your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him as he devours your cunt, kissing and licking and grazing his teeth—you feel your body buzz in response to him, legs trembling and toes curling against the thin mattress. The bed is so small, you're almost bumping your head against the wall with how aggressively Arthur pushes his mouth against your pussy—you lift a hand and curl your fingertips against the old wooden planks and let out a long moan, eyes closing tight as Arthur latches onto your clit and sucks at it like he's trying to force an orgasm out of you.
"Fuck!" You practically sob. Arthur hums and spreads you more, his tongue circling your entrance and then moving upward, further and further and your eyelids open wide again and you have to bite down on your fist to stop the high-pitched whine of surprise as the cowboy flicks his wet muscle against your other entrance. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god—"
There's a cruel chuckle from behind you and you shake, Arthur kisses and licks your puckered skin a little more before he pulls back and delivers a sharp slap to one of your ass cheeks—which you receive like a good girl, with little more than a whimper. Then, all at once, your world is spun around and you're on your back, head and shoulders crushed up against the wall behind to make space for Arthur's large body between your legs, his cock and balls resting hot and heavy against your bare, wet cunt.
You're dazed, staring up at Arthur with your mouth hanging open as he presses the length of his dick down, rocking his hips back and forth to tease you even more than he already has. "Please." You say quietly, legs spread wide and chest heaving.
Arthur smiles, tilting his head just so as he pulls his hips back just enough to have the blunt head of his cock pressing at your aching hole. "What're you wantin' darlin'?" His voice is honey, dripping down all over you. "Tell me."
"Your cock, Arthur, please—" You whisper, wiggling a little, wondering if you could catch him at the right position and his length will slide inside. "Please, please, give me your cock—take out all your frustrations on me, fuck me, fuck me, please."
Your pleading must move him, because not a second later you feel his dick press into you, your pussy opening to welcome him all the way in. Your toes curl—his thickness splits you, his fingers bruise into your thighs, your hands slide up his chest, fingertips brushing through the soft hair that covers him. Arthur holds your hips, lifting you just slightly to meet his slow thrusts, taking his time to allow you to adjust to him—it's been a while since the two of you last got to be alone together and he's not about to punish your body for it. Though you wouldn't exactly complain if he did.
"Mmm, there's my sweet girl." Arthur squeezes your skin, his fingertips pressing so deep you think it would've hurt if you weren't so overwhelmed with how his dick feels stretching you. "Forgot how well you take my cock."
Arthur Morgan is hardly a man of words, but the gentle groans and low rumble of his rare praises is enough to have your eyeballs rolling back as a sting of heat wiggles down your spine and settles in your tummy—adding fuel to the already growing fire of arousal slowly overtaking you. The cowboy speeds up quick, using your hips as leverage to essentially drag your pussy up and down his length, your head bumping just slightly against the wall you're crushed up against with his every movement. You slip your thumbs over his nipples, staring up at him with your mouth open to allow the consistent stream of whimpers and little gasps to spill unabated.
You writhe on him, your hands falling to hold onto his wrists, watching as he stares down at you. Arthur Morgan is hungry. His pupils are blown so black they overtake the blue almost entirely. There's sweat beginning to drip down his temples and neck, his hair is flopping around his face with every thrust—he holds steady and presses hard into you, his cock slick as it moves in and out, the hair and soft bottom part of his stomach rubbing up against your clit—you can feel the steadying build of pleasure inside. Then, he moves his left hand and places it on your belly and presses down, pinning you in place on the bed and angling his hips as if he's trying to thrust the tip of his cock into his palm.
Your eyes open wide and your lips twist into a sob as you are thrown headfirst into ecstasy. You raise one hand to the wall behind you and hold your body steady, filled with the uncontrollable urge to both have more and have less of the overwhelming pleasure. Arthur's thrusts are deep and strong and very consistent and it's maddening—you're tipping, blinded, whimpering pathetically as you're ruined.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck—" Your hand around Arthur's is a vice. "I-I'm going to come. I'm g-gonna—"
And you mean it. When everything pulls tight and finally snaps, you come harder than you think you ever have in your life. Your mouth opens and you can't help the sound you make—it's strangled, almost like you're in pain, as your body clenches, then you feel nothing but the need to push outwards, against the pressure, and Arthur makes this low sound of surprise as his length is forced from your body while you're still coming.
When it's over—or mostly over, rather, as you continue to twitch and shake on the thin mattress—Arthur bends himself over you and one of his hands cups your cheek as he kisses your panting mouth, and you realise quite suddenly, his hand is wet.
Like, dripping wet.
You return the heated kisses, panting to calm your flaming body down, and your hands come to rest on Arthur's broad shoulders as he crowds you. "You're alright." He murmurs against your mouth as you continue to tremble against him. His big hands grab at your thighs and suddenly you're turning around again, this time ending up sitting in Arthur's lap as he's seated on the mattress, your knees on either side of his thighs. "Go on now. Keep goin'."
There's a small protest in your body, but you're alight with desire still—lifting on jelly legs to allow Arthur to get his cock back inside you. With all the extra slickness it's easy, you take him inside your fluttering cunt with almost no resistance, just enveloping him in the heat as if he'd never left. It feels so good, so good and so full, like this—every time you've been above it's like you're able to get more of his length inside, stretch yourself further. You wind your arms around Arthur's neck and begin to roll your hips forward and back. He tips his neck backward and looks up at you and you can't help but smile, threading your fingers through his hair. He's so handsome—he has no idea just how much you love to look at him, and even if he did he'd never believe your praise. He stares up at you with the same adoration and desire you're sure is reflected in your own face, the crows feet at his eyes crinkling just so as he smiles. You lean in and kiss the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, then his mouth—your movements still slow, slow until you decide to clench on him and roll your hips in two tight circles.
Arthur's jaw drops and his hips twitch between the bracket of your knees, his fingertips press into the pillowy flesh of your ass and you know all you wish to do is reward him for making you come so wonderfully before.
"Want you to come inside." You whisper, pulling away from Arthur's lips to rest your foreheads together, your fingers going tight in his hair. "Want you to fucking fill me with your cum, Arthur, want you to give it all to me."
With good leverage and sheer determination, you just about triple the speed in which you're rocking on Arthur's cock. Your legs scream in protest, but the snarl that Arthur releases is all you need to keep you going. His cock rubs deep inside you, never really leaving the warmth of your pussy but feeling the pressure of your walls around his length squeeze and shift—you grind down, your clit so sensitive, your second climax building just as quickly as you know Arthur's first is peaking—his grip tightens and he helps you move, mindless as you move on top of him. There's sweat rolling down your back, pieces of your hair are glued to your temples, you're swallowing down thick gulps of humid air and even still—you're going to come again and you think you may just pass out afterward.
Arthur's jaw tenses, his eyebrows pull together and his eyes roll back for a moment, his hips don't move at all, just his arms flexing as he helps you use your pussy to get him off—then he gasps, closes his eyes and moans so desperately your whole body shakes with arousal. You don't stop moving even when you feel him spill inside, wet heat bursts inside your pussy and you whine happily, your own orgasm striking somewhere in the middle of it and you can't rock your hips on your own anymore, you're trembling to hard. You bury your face against Arthur's neck and cling to him for dear life as he keeps moving you with his hands, albeit much slower now as you're both undone.
"That's my girl—" Arthur whispers roughly into your hair, wrapping one arm around your middle and shifting you again. "That's a lovely, sweet girl."
His grip is strong—his cock slips from inside you as he lifts your basically limp body and you whimper at the sudden loss. You're laid carefully on the bed facing the wall and you feel Arthur's body stretch out behind you, his hand warm on your inner thigh as he pulls your leg out of the way and without warning presses inside you again. You gasp, rolling your head into the pillow and clenching your fingers into the blankets beneath you, unprepared for how thick and full Arthur's dick is as it presses into your used, dripping cunt.
"Fuckin' pretty thing. So good for me. Always so good."
You arch against Arthur, letting his hand trail up your tummy until his forearm pins between your breasts and holds fast. His forehead presses against the nape of your neck and he breathes heavy and hard as he thrusts into you, his movements miscalculated and clumsy, but still swirling a deep, aching pleasure in your body. You reach back with one hand and clasp at whatever you can, finding purchase on Arthur's hip, clawing desperately as the cowboy fucks you—bucking his hips faster, forcing cries of devastating bliss out of your mouth.
Arthur squeezes you, muffles an absolutely wrecked groan in the back of your neck, shakes furiously from head to toe and then you're filled once more—fully, completely, spilling out and over your skin in a way that makes you tremble. The electric pleasure thrums to a sort of boneless blissful buzz throughout your body and you close your eyes, fully relaxing into the mattress and pushing back against him, chest heaving under his arm as it's still wound tight around you.
"Mmm." You hear Arthur chuckle behind you and he presses soft kisses up your neck and into your hair, adjusting his other arm so you're resting upon it instead of the pillow. "Sweet thing. Know just what I need, don't you?"
"Helps if I walk in on you touchin' yourself." You hum, running your fingers up the length of his forearm to curve your palm over the back of his hand. He opens his fingers and allows you to slide yours between them from behind, your thumbs rubbing together gently. "Next time come talk to me, dumbass. Ain't no need to be doing these things on your own."
"I'll keep that in mind." Your cowboy lifts his head a bit. "Look at me."
You turn your head to the side and smile, seeing Arthur's beautiful face above you, then he leans in and presses the sweetest, most loving kiss to your lips—it almost makes you cry.
"I love you, you idiot." You squeeze his hand as he pulls away.
"I love you, you nosey fool."