Chapter Text
Ever since moving down into the Heartlands and setting up camp at Horseshoe Overlook, things were calm for once and it made you restless.
You were accustomed to upheaval and chaos, so a little bit of peace didn’t sit right with you in the slightest. You knew you should’ve appreciated it, but you were bored out of your mind lately. You’d finished reading all of your stolen books, knitted until your fingertips were numb, and nearly depleted the ammo supply for target practice.
So when you saw Arthur Morgan sneak away from the heart of camp and over to the horses like a distant shadow, you followed. He approached his own mare and started loading supplies into the saddlebag, hardly flinching when you skipped over and called out to him.
“Where’re you going?” You folded your arms over the saddle and gazed across the horse at him with bright, curious eyes.
“Out.” He didn’t look up to acknowledge you, hands still moving swiftly to accomplish his task.
“Out where?” You pushed further.
“Hunting. Ain’t gonna last much longer with what we’ve got.” He gestured to Pearson’s bench adorned with only two more deer from the haul Charles brought in when the gang first moved.
“Can I come?” You asked shyly, picking at a loose stitch on the leather saddle.
“No.” He didn’t hesitate in the slightest to deny you and it made your brows furrow in protest.
“Please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” Arthur exhaled a disdained sigh as he finally met your eyes for the first time, his own more vivid than the sunny blue sky above. “This sorta thing’s best done alone. Can’t have the animals gettin’ spooked.”
“I’ll be real quiet, promise.” You placed your hands together and put on your best pout. “I’ve been getting better with a gun too. Plus I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been stuck here and I’m bored out of my mind.”
He considered your proposal for a long moment, eyes flicking around the camp before landing on you again. “Get your rifle and pack enough for a couple days.”
You could hardly contain the burst of excitement that followed. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Go on, ‘fore I change my mind.” He nodded towards your tent before making sure his own weapons were accounted for on the horse.
You fled from his side in an instant to go start gathering your things. Pure elation and eagerness was bubbling up in your chest over the chance to finally get some fresh air alongside company that had made your heart beat restlessly on several occasions.
___
You couldn’t wipe the gloating grin off your face, trying to conceal the laughter that was bubbling up in your chest as you idly poked the campfire with a stick. You couldn’t take your eyes off Arthur and the way the flame’s reflection danced in the depths of his pupils. He eyed you back with fleeting, suspicious glances until you let out the smallest little giggle and that was when he snapped.
“What’s going on with you, girl?” He used his hunting knife to flip one of the slabs of small game roasting above the fire on his makeshift grill.
“What was it you said?” You deepened your tone and put on the best southern drawl you could muster before imitating what he’d told you earlier in the day.
“You’re all bark and no bite, little spitfire.”
You caught a glimpse of him rolling his eyes from underneath the brim of his hat. “Well guess what? I caught more than you today, fair and square.” You pointed the wooden stick at him and he nudged it away with his elbow.
“Sure. Rabbits, and they were right under your nose too.” The corner of his mouth twitched up with a hint of a smile.
“Still counts.”
“Yeah well, we need to start tracking the bigger stuff tomorrow. Deer, elk, anything like that we can find.” He started cutting into one of the filets on the grill.
“Yessir.” You said in a firm, assured tone.
You couldn’t tell from the fire’s glow casting across his face, but you thought you saw the smallest hint of pink rise on his cheeks. He cleared his throat and gestured to the meat before you could fish for another reaction. “Just, c’mere and eat some of this.”
You pulled your own knife from the hip and staked it into the center of a piece before pulling it away from the fire. Then you twirled the knife’s grip in your hand and studied the rations while you waited for it to cool.
“So...” You drew out the syllable long and slow before striking up conversation to cut through some of the tension. “How long’ve you been riding with Dutch and the gang?”
It was a question that brought his full attention back. “Long time. Since before you could shoot, probably.” He hesitated before adding in a conceited tone, “Which is sayin’ a lot since you could hardly hold a gun before my help.”
“Hey! That’s not true, I was just more nervous back then.” You quickly protested as he expressed a hearty laugh over his own quip.
“Mhm, sure.” He hummed in a doubtful tone.
“You didn’t answer my question.” You quickly brought the conversation back on track, the last remnants of your scowl beginning to fade.
“Been over twenty years now.”
“You ever think of getting out?”
“No.” He shook his head, tone firm yet thoughtful. “I made my choice a long time ago, ain’t gonna waste time tryin’ to change now.”
The two of you ate in silence for a few moments before another question came to mind that you blurted out point-blank. “How come you ain’t married?”
He faltered just a little bit over how blunt your delivery was before answering truthfully with a sigh. “I nearly was.”
“What?” Your volume raised in disbelief. He was old enough to have loved and lost, but your mind couldn’t see through to that with how hopelessly enamored you were with him. You waited for him to share the details that never came, watching as he shifted back into his default reserved demeanor. You lowered your voice back down and kept a calm tone as you pressed him further. “You can’t go quiet on me now Arthur, what was she like?”
A low chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest as he shook his head. “I think that’s enough, little miss.”
You whined his name through an exasperated huff of air.
“You wanna talk? Why don’t you go on and tell me something ‘bout yourself then.” He threw the attention back onto you and it was clear then that you weren’t going to get anything else out of him on the subject.
You wracked the depths of your brain for something interesting to share with him. “I dunno, I guess I-”
Twigs snapped in the nearby distance and severed your words short, leading both of you to perk up.
“Hold on.” Arthur held his hand out to pause you while turning to look out in the direction where the noise came from.
You studied the thick foliage of the woods that surrounded you for a long moment. Yet the fire’s light didn’t stretch very far and you couldn’t make out anything other than leaves on trees rustling in the wind. “I don’t see anything.” You spoke up in a hushed whisper.
“Shhh.”
You obediently shut your mouth again, and that was when you saw a large blur of something shift closer from somewhere to your left. The air sucked tightly into your lungs as an animal slowly came into view. It was a moose, far bigger than any you’d ever seen before in your entire life. Its fur, hooves, and even the large antlers on its head were snow white, creating a stunning contrast against the shadowy trees in the dark night. The magnificent animal treaded carefully, nosing around the forest floor for fresh vegetation to eat.
“I’ve heard about this thing before.” Arthur whispered silently and your ears strained to hear him above the crackling embers that separated you. “It was on a map Hosea gave me.”
You chewed your lip nervously. “Once it sees us, it’s gone.”
Both of your eyes searched for the nearest gun. He knew the revolver on his hip wouldn’t be nearly powerful enough and his long arms were secured with the horses hitched up several yards away. That left your rifle, lying on the ground just a few short feet away from your side.
“It’s gotta be you.” He murmured and you could hear the grit of his teeth as he regarded you with a stern side glance. “Don’t mess this up, girl.”
You took one last look at the moose grazing off the land before moving as quietly as a wraith towards your gun. You gingerly picked up the firearm like it was made of glass and pointed it at the mighty animal, finger quaking on the trigger.
“Empty lungs.” Arthur offered guidance under his breath.
You lined up the crosshair directly between the massive antlers while you inhaled a deep, shaky breath. The gun shifted slightly in your hesitant grip, the rattle of metal just loud enough to alert the moose right when you exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The animal perked its head up, causing you to graze its chest instead. A curse sputtered from your lips as it struggled to turn around and break into an injured sprint. You did your best to line up the shot again in what little time you had left before the window was closed. Then you blindly unloaded the rest of the clip.
It was only three more shots, but it was all you needed. Two hit your intended target and you exclaimed in relief as the moose collapsed to the ground. The rifle started loosening from your grasp as the realization settled in.
“I did it.” A slow grin spread across your lips. “Arthur, I did it!” You turned to him just as he was shifting closer on one knee with a half-smile.
“That you did, girl.”
A rush of exhilarated air poured from your lungs and before you could stop yourself, the gun was hitting the ground with a thud and you were swiftly closing the space between the two of you.
“M’proud-” His words cut short with a grunt as you planted both palms on his cheeks and mashed your lips against his.
A whistle of air punched from his throat, hand quickly shooting up to steady itself on your back as you swayed slightly. Sweat and smoke hit your senses while the strong aftertaste of whiskey graced your tongue. His beard scratched roughly against your chin, no doubt leaving a pink, chafed mark as you melded your lips with his.
You forced yourself to stumble back upon realizing what you’d done as much as your heart yearned to keep going. A nervous laugh escaped your lips, fueled by the remnants of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Arthur’s hat tilted out of place as he rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, eyes darting to the ground to avoid your gaze.
You wanted to dig a hole and sink into the ground until he finally spoke again. Fortunately, he seemed to chalk it up to the heat of the moment and continued on like it was nothing. “We should go look, make sure it ain’t still alive.”
“Right.” You nodded, rising to your feet with him to approach the fallen moose.
The rational part of you wanted to feel ashamed for coming on so strong, but your giddy excitement pushed the sentiment all the way out. You were practically buzzing in place as you each took an antler and started hauling the carcass over to your camp for the night.
“I’ll skin it first thing tomorrow morning.” Arthur said between short little gasps of air to replenish his breath. “Should get some sleep for now, it’s late.” He nodded towards the tent that the two of you had set up before the sun dissipated below the horizon.
___
Arthur had experienced many sleepless nights over the years, but almost none of them were quite like this.
His tired eyes had been cracked open for so long that he half expected the first rays of sunlight to start streaming through the tent at any moment. He tossed and turned into every position imaginable without any luck. Then he tried to scribble in his journal for a little bit, but he couldn’t see without a lantern’s guidance and he didn’t want to disturb you. A cigarette usually did the trick, but he didn’t want to accidentally jostle you awake in his attempt to squeeze out of the cramped tent. The idea seemed impossible now given the way you had naturally shifted over and clung to his side in your sleep.
The kiss wouldn’t get out of his head, each element replaying in vivid detail; The plushness of your lips eagerly chasing his own, your soft fingers in his coarse beard, the sweet aroma of lilac and wild mint in your hair. He wanted to draw you back in from the moment it ended and traverse every inch of your delicate skin with his mouth, memorizing the shape and taste.
But his brain was doing everything in its power to convince himself it wasn’t genuine. Arthur told himself that you were too young and naive to know what you actually wanted and just because he happened to be caught in your line of sight didn’t mean he was the right one for you.
Far from it.
He was rough, mean, and weathered from years of pain that hardened him into the ruthless outlaw he was today. Even though you’d chosen this life on your own volition, that didn’t make it right in his mind. You deserved someone who could take all of that ingenuous energy and run with it, cherishing that sort of passion for life.
Your affection was difficult for him to deny, of course. The impish remarks and lingering touches made his jaw tense every time as that loose thread on his restraint unraveled further each time. He gazed down at the outline of your restful features. They were shadowed from the darkness of the tent, but he could see enough. Your long eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks, lips parted slightly as you drew each rhythmic breath, hair spilling beautifully around your shoulders, nightslip exposing the chiseled shape of your collarbone.
His fingers tightly clutched the blanket as a sigh broke from his lips. He couldn’t ignore the urge to fill his lungs with smoke any longer.
He made an attempt to untangle his limbs from yours just enough to detach you from his side. The movement made you stir and a muffled whine of discontent pulled from your throat. He paused for a brief moment before trying again, managing to get your arm off him before making a struggled effort to unhook your thigh from his waist under the blanket.
Then your voice quietly filled the space in a groggy tone.
“…Arthur?”
He froze.
“Yes, darlin’?” He unclenched his teeth and reminded himself to breathe when the air naturally stalled in his lungs.
You muttered something that closely resembled “Quit moving,” before rolling the rest of the way on top of him, arms looping around his shoulders and hips pressing against his.
“M’sorry...” He whispered quietly.
Then he waited several long moments in silence before daring to glance down at your face and brush your hair away from your closed eyelids. Your breathing had evened out again and he envied that ability to drift back to sleep so easily.
With your entire body on top of him, all his progress had been undone. He was starting to come to the conclusion that he was just going to have to lift you off of him and quickly sneak out whether it woke you back up or not. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do it at first. The warm comfort of a body curled around him was something he hadn’t gotten to cherish in a long time. The quickened pulse of his heart in his chest made him realize how truly starved from affection he was. It was a weakness that made him frown.
Eventually, he gathered up enough strength to just bite the bullet. His fingers gripped your hips, ready to haul you off, yet the second he made contact, your body jerked against him. It was as if his touch was a physical shock of electricity pulsing through your veins and a little bit of drool leaked onto his chest as you mewled quietly.
Then he felt it, subtle yet distinctive. A hesitant roll of your hips down onto his with a soft rustle and a breathy noise.
You grinded down again in your sleep, this time with a low, frustrated whimper. Your sex covered by lacy fabric purposefully rubbed down on his member trapped beneath the material of his union suit and it felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. There was a brief delay where nothing happened and he knew he should’ve stopped you when he had the chance.
But now you were grinding in a rhythm with unmistakable intent coming from deep in your subconscious. Arthur couldn’t move. Couldn’t even breathe, and when he was able to remind himself to do so, the air came out in ragged little fragments. Each movement was executed with nearly the same fervent passion of someone awake, yet he knew that wasn’t the case. Beneath that yearning need remained an aura of sluggish drowsiness and you were utterly silent aside from your torrent of labored panting.
He thought of your coy little gaze just hours before, dragging him deeper into the woods and scaring off the animals just like he knew you would from the beginning. He thought of your hands assertively grabbing his face and yanking him into a sloppy kiss. Then he glanced down at where your fingers were curling into the unbuttoned collar of his nightwear and he felt himself twitch involuntarily against your grinding heat.
He couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let more guilt fester in his mind alongside what was already there. Then there was the fear of you waking up and becoming aware of the situation and the likely outcome that you’d avoid him forever out of embarrassment. His conflicting morals were wrestling deep in his heart and he despised the fact that the ignoble side was starting to come out on top.
And so he let you do it, heat making his cock swell thicker in his drawers by the second. He could feel your hips moving in slow little circles under the blanket, rhythmic breathing more desperate and needful. His fingers were still settled on your waist, twitching hesitantly now—half on the verge of moving you off and half on the slim edge of pulling you harder down.
He wondered if you were this restless in the private confines of your own tent back at camp or if he was the catalyst pouring fuel over the fire.
Your hand was slipping beneath the blanket now, not quite reaching your clit in the way your subconscious likely intended. Instead it remained trapped between his covered arousal and your own as your hips rutted down in search of more friction. The hampered sigh you released as you got nowhere made him feel pity. He had the power to help relieve that burning need, yet he remained tethered to the bedroll simply watching—appreciating.
You were dampening the front of his union suit now, nightgown riding further up your hips. He couldn’t imagine how soaked the thin cotton covering your sex was. He felt himself swell thicker by the second to the point of where it was painful, and he could feel himself leak—just a small drip to add to the wet splotch that was growing on the front of his clothes.
You were still pressed flush against him, stomach keeping his shaft pinned down firmly while your hips grazed his base and the outline of his achingly full balls. Each drag of cotton against his tip was agonizing, lighting his nerve ends on fire with tingling shocks that made him shiver.
Never had Arthur felt so defeated by his own lack of restraint.
He shifted his hips slightly—just enough to try and relieve some of that tension, but it only made it worse. You whimpered again as he pushed the blanket off to watch your body feverishly work against him. Your expression was as peaceful as ever, conveying the deep slumber your mind was immersed in, yet your avid humping told a different story.
“Poor sweet girl… You don’t even know what you’re doin’.” Arthur rubbed soothing circles against your back, gazing down at you with the beginning formulations of a smile. “You dreaming about me, baby?” He talked to you in a silent whisper, imagining all of the risqué scenes that could be playing out in your head right now.
Then he thought of all the sultry daydreams of his own that he tried not to bring into fruition. He often imagined yanking you off to the side somewhere just to calm that bratty tone. He wanted to make you beg incoherently beneath him between sobs of pleasure while his spurs rattled with each thrust and his belt buckle bit into your inner thigh. He wanted to claim you soft and sweet as you undressed for bed or before you could get the chance to soak in the river for a bath.
He couldn’t let those thoughts bloom now. Not when he was fully committed to his sinful decision and trying to ensure that you wouldn’t wake at this point. As his fingers inched down your thigh and hiked your gown up just enough to start pulling your bloomers down, he told himself that it was just for one glance. One simple look and maybe a touch was all he would allow himself.
But then the raw, wet smell of your arousal made his head feel dizzy with lust. He could just barely see it, glittering in what little moonlight streamed through the cracks of the tent. And you were still blissfully unaware, rubbing yourself on him in lazy little circles with your hand still halfway splayed across your cunt.
So warm, so slick, so sleepy.
His cock stirred again within its confines and leaked a little more, fluid pooling in a sticky mess against fabric. He grappled with his next immoral decision, trying his best to shove the idea out of his head as soon as it emerged. The next whine that escaped your throat was nothing more than a quiet little gurgle. His mind twisted it into an expression of need and permission.
“Just a little bit, okay?” He rumbled quietly while carefully slotting his hand between your bodies and nudging yours aside before blindly popping open the last button on his union suit. “Don’t want you ruining these cute little delicates.” He came up with a shoddy excuse while reaching inside to take his hot, ruddy member in hand—pre-cum dribbling across his thumb.
He pulled it out, letting himself rest hot and heavy against his stomach before allowing your body to press against his again. He bit his tongue in his mouth during his effort to align your hips properly without waking you. He held his breath when your grinding stalled and you shifted a bit with a sleepy sigh. Then he felt the wet press of your dripping folds wrap perfectly around the front side of his shaft.
“There, that feels better huh?” His cock slid a bit further between your folds, caught just under your clit and dragging up and down with your natural rhythm all while your soft little cunt kept humping mindlessly.
He let himself relax now with a pleased exhale while your body did all the work. He could just barely see the head of his cock from this angle, a bead of wetness swelling larger from the slit each time you rubbed up. The sound of it was sticky and obscene, ringing through his ears louder than the chirping crickets and rustle of leaves outside. As he watched you drag your sensitive clit against his shaft and noted the way your thighs trembled around him in response, he wondered if you could finish this way.
The thought made him shiver as he realized how close he was to his own release. He felt it surge forth in his lower stomach, lapping dangerously close to the edge like the restless ripple of ocean waves kissing the shore. He had to tense his muscles just to keep from bursting as that hot pressure ballooned up beyond his control.
There was a subtle change in your movements and Arthur held his breath out of fear that you’d finally drifted back into consciousness. He realized that wasn’t the case when you started bouncing in place with the smallest of frustrated sighs. His heart ached to see you in such need and he longed to be sharing this moment with you in a proper manner.
Yet he was dreadfully aware of the fact that he was in too deep.
He eyed the tiny, expressionless pout on your full lips and the way your brows furrowed ever so slightly before he caved in again.
“Alright, just a little more baby, but that’s it, that’s all I can do.” He reasoned with himself before carefully reaching into the humid space between your bodies again.
He angled himself upwards as much as he could so that the ridge of his cock head would rub beneath your clit and eventually start to dilate your open hole. He held his breath, trying once again not to release it all in one messy gush as you rocked back and forth on just the tip. He pressed it a little deeper with an encouraging nudge until it was nearly engulfed, just enough to make you squirm a little as you continued grinding down—just enough to let your body decide.
But lining up was a mistake because the next time your hips lowered, your heat swallowed half of his cock with a rich squelch. He nearly choked, body curling slightly inwards around your sleeping figure, heart pounding rapidly in his chest as you slowed down just a little bit.
“Hmmm?” You mumbled, followed by a nearly incoherent, breathless laugh.
Arthur struggled to stay as still as possible, trying not to let himself twitch needily or roll his hips up while you fell back into a deeper slumber.
“Such a cute little thing.” He whispered with a careful kiss on the top of your head as you giggled playfully in your sleep again.
He lifted your hips ever so slightly, biting his tongue in his mouth when you naturally shifted back down again and his cock was embraced by more slick warmth. He could feel the throbbing pulse striking up in the vein on the underside as you started rocking back and forth this time. He dared himself to look down again as you rode just the head alone, strings of fluid clinging to the ridge in a wet shine.
“Taking it so good, my pretty little thing.” He swiped a few strands of hair away from your face so he could watch your eyes dart back and forth beneath the lids as you progressed through the deepest part of your sleep. Another whine poured from your lips that melted into a sigh, your grinding falling out of rhythm with sloppy little pushes.
“Need a little more help, don’t you baby?” He allowed himself the privilege of just a bit more, grabbing your hips and aiding you into smoother movements. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered gently, eyes locking back onto the minimal space between your bodies.
Watching your hips shift between little circles and tiny bounces made heat flare up in his lower stomach. He physically itched to haul you the rest of the way down, hips trembling up slightly beyond his control. You were soaking his cock head now, warming it up so perfectly with the tight squeeze your sex had on it.
He was dangerously close, trying to shove down each surge of blissful warmth. He couldn’t leave your front sticky with the mess of his creamy release even if the thought had him choking back a groan.
“Stop me, Christ—stop me.” He was panting at this point, sweat sticking uncomfortably to the back of his nightwear and rolling down from his hairline.
Despite his words, he couldn’t stop encouraging your hips down, letting his wide girth stretch you just a little more each time. That was when you started mumbling again and through the incoherent rambles, Arthur was able to make out one thing clearly.
“Mmmnh—please…”
Heat coursed through his veins and he felt the seam of his balls start to tighten up. “Goddammit…” His trembling fingers lifted your hips off and his tip slid out with a wet pop—his cock falling back towards his stomach before he let you settle back down onto the front side of it again.
You were still rubbing aimlessly, yet without stimulation to the sensitive head, he felt that surge of tingling bliss start to fizzle out again. He felt like he’d just run a marathon, ashamed by how much the risk of emptying into your soft warmth made him feel more thrilled than scared.
You started whining quietly, the web of drool connecting from your lips to his chest growing thicker now. It took him a second to realize that your heightened reaction was because there was pressure on your clit again, no doubt signaling tingling shockwaves that resonated with you in your restful sleep.
“That feel good?” The words rumbled from him, deep and husky as he struggled to catch his breath.
Your subtle movements started growing more jerky and that’s when an idea came to him as he remembered his desire to bring you to completion in your sleep. He was hesitant to move you off of his slick shaft, but he could feel how close he was getting again and he couldn’t take any more risks. His hands settled back onto your hips and disrupted your grind to carefully shift you over onto your side. Then he curled inwards to face you and wrap his arms around you.
A discontented little cry passed from your lips as you rutted into nothing.
“Shhhh, shh shh.” He attempted to soothe you back into a more tranquil state again, breathing a sigh of relief when your noises ceased.
Your hips were still moving with less energy now as he let his cock rest heavy on your inner thigh, clear fluid weeping from the tip and smearing across your skin. He let one of his hands drift from your back to your chest, appreciating the swell of your breasts beneath your night slip before continuing further down. He teased his fingertips through the wetness clinging to the soft curls on your mound. Then he moved just a bit further down to press between your folds, swollen and hot with arousal.
Your breathing grew more shallow, eyes squeezing shut tighter when he brushed against the little rounded bump of your clit. “Oh, there it is.” He whispered through a smile as your thighs clenched together.
The gesture inspired him to slot his member between your legs so he could feel each trembling squeeze. He kept his finger still for now as he tested the waters just to ensure you wouldn’t wake. Yet he could tell your body was reacting to the little bit of pressure there and your hips searched for more of it in tiny little rutting motions.
“So damn needy, even in your sleep.” He chuckled quietly.
Then he gave your clit a small flick with his fingertip and watched in amazement as your knees buckled and your body caved inwards closer to him. Your thighs were gripping his cock like a vice and the breath he sucked into his lungs was tight. Seeing you in such vulnerable need made him ache and he fed off each little twitchy reaction your body gave him.
He started rubbing now, slowly and carefully. Your breath hitched, body squirming restlessly against his hand between your legs. “I know, I know, it ain’t right, I just—fuck… You’re so sensitive.” He cooed softly against silky strands of your hair.
When you rolled over onto your back with a drowsy sigh and his cock slipped out from between your thighs, he knew he should stop there. Yet he’d already gone so far and he couldn’t see past his own greed to make the one moral decision that mattered.
And so he shifted with you to hover over your body on his knees between your spread legs. You were a mess even if you didn’t know it—bloomers still tangled halfway down your thighs, cheeks flushed, thighs sticky with a mix of your fluids. His hand roamed between your legs again, gently stroking your puffy folds and watching with a smile as you giggled quietly again. He waited for just a second as your head lolled to the side and the noise melted into a quiet snore.
Then he searched for your nub again, wriggling his finger against that little spot that made your inner thighs quake. His own arousal hung heavy and thick between his thighs, rutting into nothing as he studied your sleeping features. The pressure on your clit made you shift restlessly again, legs drifting shut to clench around his wrist. Your hips wiggled just a little bit as if trying to track down and follow the sensation. With a low curse under his breath, Arthur let two fingers slide into your dripping heat before pressing your clit with his thumb.
He stimulated at different angles, watching carefully to ensure your eyelids didn’t flutter open as he let himself move a little faster now. “C’mon, girl, you’re close, just let go. Let go for me, please.” He begged quietly to no one other than himself in the silence of the tent.
Your hips started lifting up and down and he nearly had to pin them to the bedroll to keep his movements from growing too sloppy. Then your lips lazily formed the shape of syllables before something soft and incomplete left them.
“Ar… Ar—mmhnm.”
He nearly froze up with a quiet groan under his breath as he gripped his neglected member with his free hand. “Oh sweet girl, say my name—say it, please.” He begged hopelessly.
However, your lips were pressing shut again and he was met with nothing other than the labored huff of your breathing. He picked up the pace just a little bit, trying to coax his name from the depths of your subconscious while he stroked his cock with messy swiftness.
That was when it happened. The change was subtle, yet recognizable.
You pressed harder up against him, thighs tensing. It was just a small one, but he could feel it in the way your sex pulsed around his fingers plunged deep inside. He held his breath in stunned silence as your hips stuttered upwards before collapsing back down onto the bedroll and shying away from his touch. The last contraction of your walls gripped his fingers tightly before relaxing again and he quickly retreated to prevent waking you with overstimulation.
Then he finally let himself go as he gripped himself tighter with each stroke. Recalling the fragment of his name from your lips and the flutter of your tightness around his fingers, it hit him all at once. He managed to move off your body just in time as he spilled. A hot, white gush erupted into his palm and painted messy ropes on the floor of the tent. He struggled to maintain a steady breath as the vehemence of it squeezed his lungs tight. The last bead of it swelled from the slit before dripping into the wet streaks between his knees and he finally let himself relax with a long sigh.
It didn’t take long for clarity to shine through the thick cloud of lust in his mind. When it did, the taste of guilt on his tongue was more bitter than all the tobacco and whiskey in the world. He wiped his palm on the tent’s canvas next to the majority of the mess before tucking himself back into the stained front of his union suit.
He’d have to clean up the mess with shame hanging heavy in his thoughts, but for now, his focus was on you. He worked on easing your soaked delicates back up over the curve of your thighs again. Then he shifted you over onto your side and slipped into the bedroll behind you.
He wrapped his arms around your frame and swiped your hair away from your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss against the side of your neck. Then he whispered so quietly, that he could hardly hear the words himself above the rustle of nature surrounding you.
“My sweet girl, I’m sorry, so sorry.”