#'I was an ideal / Looked so alive turns out I'm not real / Just somethin' you paid for'

[colour-of-dream]

"Takin' a drive, I was an ideal Looked so alive, turns out I'm not real Just somethin' you paid for What was I made for?" ~Billie Eilish "What Was I Made For"

[dionysed]

Takin' a drive, I was an ideal. Looked so alive, turns out I'm not real... Just somethin' you paid for. What was I made for? 🎶

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 38)

Out In The Wilderness

Arthur and reader head out for some time away from camp after the trolley station job goes badly. Deep conversations and smut ensue. Enjoy!

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Arthur returned to camp in a foul mood. So did Dutch, and to a lesser degree, Lenny. They all looked dishevelled and bashed up; Dutch had a pair of black eyes, their clothes were filthy and ripped, Arthur's hands and face were dotted with cuts and bruises. It was clear before anyone said anything that the trolley station job had not gone to plan. I'd been discussing the art dealer job with John when they all returned home, and I watched as Arthur went straight upstairs to his room; presumably to get changed.

John said my name, and I turned back to him. He was staring at me expectantly. 

"I'm sorry?"

"What day? You were telling me when this job was going down," he reminded me. 

"Oh, yeah. Saturday, so tomorrow. Evening time; I've spoken to Arthur about it, he said he'd talk to Lenny. The wagon will be coming from Saint Denis to Valentine, so I'd suggest mapping that route, picking a spot on the outskirts of Valentine, going for it then."

"You're not joining us?" He asked. 

"We all saw how well I handled waving a gun around yesterday."

"Oh right, yeah. How're you holding up, by the way?"

"I'm okay. Ain't the first time a gang of psychos has knocked me down and brought me close to death," my laugh was empty, and John gave me a careful smile. 

"I heard you handled it well, in the end."

"I shot a guy, yeah, no need to congratulate me. People keep praising me for it, it's real odd," I frowned to myself. 

"It's okay not to be proud of it, but you did the right thing; was all you could do. That's all people are praising you for," he shrugged, then clapped a hand on my shoulder, giving it a convivial shake. 

"I guess," I smiled. 

"Hey, Arthur mentioned that job to me," Lenny said to me as he passed me by on the way to Pearson's pot, "sounds like a good one. Well, I hope it is, today didn't go so well."

"I thought as much, what happened?" I frowned, and John spun around in his seat to listen to him. 

"Barely made enough to buy groceries, and Dutch took a real knock to the head. It weren't good. But we made it, so that counts for something," Lenny flashed an optimistic smile once he'd finished, then carried on walking. 

John and I shared a look, and eventually I rose to my feet. 

"I'm gonna go see Arthur," I told him.

"Sure, you tell him I'm in on that job tomorrow," John nodded, and I patted his back appreciatively before heading off. 

I knocked on Arthur's door, calling his name, and he invited me in. He was just buttoning up a fresh shirt when I entered, his back to me. I walked inside, picked up his clothes for something to do, bundling them up and putting them on the table neatly for me to wash for him later. I met his gaze, noting the tension in his jaw and brow. 

"I heard it didn't go well, I'm sorry," I started, and Arthur shook his head, releasing a breath. 

"Will you ride with me?" He requested, surprising me.

"Of course," I nodded, then followed him out of the room as he pulled his suspenders up and over his shoulders.

"Could do with just some space between me and everyone else, this place," he said under his breath as we walked through the house, downstairs and over to the horses. "I'm sure you could, too."

"You're not wrong," I agreed, and we mounted up on our horses and headed out of camp. 

We rode in silence for some time, heading away from the swampy area, out towards the firmer grounds of Scarlett Meadows, where the air was just a little dryer. That was immediately more pleasant on its own, the swamps could be so suffocating. 

I decided to breach the silence. "You wanna talk about what went wrong today?"

"It all went wrong, right from the start. We shouldn't even have bothered with it in the first place; it was a bad idea. Should've known that when Bronte told us about it."

"Wait, Bronte? The feller who had Jack?"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to tell me how dumb it was to trust him with a tip-off after that nonsense," Arthur grumbled and I shook my head. 

"I wasn't gonna say that."

"Well, it was dumb. I can't believe Dutch went ahead with it. But it's done now. We're just lucky we got out of there alive," he scoffed, shaking his head bitterly.

I pursed my lips and looked ahead, running my fingers through Rayna's mane briefly. 

"We stuck the place up and there was barely any cash, then the number of lawmen turning up– it had to be a set up. We had to shoot our way out of the city, almost killing ourselves in a trolley crash in the process. It was all complete shambles," Arthur continued.

"Trolley crash?"

"I'm sticking to horses as my getaway from now on," Arthur grunted and shook his head. "At least we got your job tomorrow."

"John said he's in on that, by the way," I let him know, and he nodded. 

"Seems straightforward enough, hopefully it'll make us some good money."

"Don't jinx it," I snorted. 

"Any more bad luck, at this point I'm jus' used to it," he sighed. 

"Cheer up, Arthur. As long as we're alive and free, things are okay," I reassured him, smiling at him. He let out a wistful sigh and glanced over at me. 

"That's real nice. It's a pity I ain't got much room for optimism right now," he said apologetically and I shook my head in amusement. 

"It's alright, Arthur, you ain't gotta be sunshine and rainbows. Just don't dwell on it, okay? It's over, you and the others got out mostly unscathed and you're free to rob some other poor bastards. You don't have to think about it no more, think of somethin' else," I said cheerily and he chuckled. 

"You seem chipper," he commented. 

"Well, I'm just trying to keep us afloat. Things aren't bad enough to be all in despair just yet, and I don't like seeing my man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. That's Dutch's to carry, our mighty leader," I teased, catching the shake of his head and his badly hidden smirk. 

"Your man, huh?"

I looked at him for a while, pressing my lips together. "How 'bout we set up camp out here?"

"Now?" He quirked a brow.

"Sure. I could kill us a rabbit for dinner, we could camp out here. You got your tent, right?"

"Sure I do."

"Alright then, what do you say?"

"You ain't worried 'bout Dutch getting mad with us again?" He questioned, though he let me veer us off the path towards what looked like an ideal campground. A patch of trees with a decently sized clearing in the middle, far enough away from passing travellers.

"He already hates me, so I don't care. Are you worried?" 

Arthur made a noise and the two of us dismounted, hitching the horses up against a tree. 

"He don't hate you," he tried to assure me, and I smiled in amusement.

"Well he sure as shit don't like me," I laughed, "don't worry, I don't mind. It's you I'm sticking around for. Along with folk like Charles and John, Mary-Beth, Abigail… decent folk."

"So you don't think Dutch is decent?" Arthur queried, retrieving the canvas for his tent off the back of Jet. 

"I never said that."

"You didn't, but it sounded like you meant it."

I shrugged my shoulders, wandering around the immediate area to look for firewood as Arthur pitched the tent. We worked in silence for a while, I'd gathered up an armful of sticks for the fire by the time the tent was standing and Arthur was laying down blankets inside. The sun was starting to go down, and I hurried off with my bow to catch us some dinner before it got dark.

When I got back with a rabbit slung over my shoulder, Arthur had a fire going. I sat myself down next to him where he was poking at it, staring into the flames. His face was aglow with yellow light, dimming and brightening with the shivering of the flames; he looked deep in thought. I was in the process of skinning dinner when he spoke again. 

"You think I'd be upset with you if you admitted you had zero trust in Dutch?" He asked. His tone was curious, not in the least bit irritable; it put me at ease, but not enough to want to open up on the topic. 

"You mean the man you've been following since you was just a boy?" I began, then snorted, "I wouldn't blame you if you were, but I don't think you would be."

"Right, so why're you dodging that question just now?" He followed up.

"Because I believe it's far above my station to sit here and spout off what I think about a man I've known for five minutes, to you, who's known him decades," I explained, "sure, I won't keep my lips fully sealed, I'm quite honest about the fact that he's not my favourite man in the world, and that I don't think he reckons all that much to me. But I don't feel right going any further than that."

"There's more to it, I know there is, and I want you to be able to tell me these things. You're my lady, I don't put you at any station lower than myself, you understand that, don't you?" 

"Well, I'm happy to hear that," I told him quietly, putting the rabbit skin aside and beginning to cut the meat from the animal.

"Come on, sweetheart," he pleaded.

"I'm wrist deep in a rabbit, Arthur," I chuckled, "what do you want me to say?"

"Tell me why you don't like Dutch. And I ain't asking so I could try to change your mind, I wanna know because I'm–" he stopped abruptly, paused to think, "Dutch ain't been acting the way I'm used to, lately. I just wanna hear from someone who has a fresh perspective."

I sat back on my heels and looked at him. He held eye contact for some time, then broke it to spear a piece of meat on the end of his knife and hold it over the flames. 

"Okay," I said meekly, "well, I get the impression he likes having people around him that'll do whatever he says without question. And sure, that's understandable to some extent, him being the so-called brains behind this whole gang, but…"

"Keep going."

"I don't think it's all that healthy, is all. He obviously cares about you, but the way he acts with me, it's like he's worried your loyalty's being split. I don't know how best to say it," I explained, shrugging a bit. "Just look at how he was when we went to Saint Denis. You took one night away, while the whole camp was gettin' drunk anyway, and he made out like it was a terrible thing you did. 

"And yesterday, acting like you were keeping secrets from him just 'cause you didn't go runnin' to him the first time we shared a kiss… like he deserves to know everything even when it don't concern him. Like you ain't just allowed to be your own person. Perhaps I'm being melodramatic," I shook my head, looking to Arthur to see him focusing completely on the meat he was cooking, his brow lowered only enough to be noticeable. 

"So I guess that's part of it. The way he seems to have you on such a short leash despite all you do, all your loyalty," I concluded. 

"I have to set an example, I suppose is his thinkin'," he explained and I gave him a look.

"Thought you said you weren't gonna try changing my mind."

"No, I'm– yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"Anyway, you said yourself he ain't treating me like everyone else, that he trusted Micah sooner than this. I've said this before, 'bout how I feel I could be accused of trying to steal you away. Maybe there's some truth in that, 'least for what Dutch thinks of me," I hypothesised.   

"Maybe," he said softly, surprising me with his acceptance. 

"Arthur, just remember that I don't care about all this. Last thing I want is for me to change the way you and Dutch are. Just 'cause he can be unfriendly with me, don't mean I want you to take issue with the man. I ain't been here long enough to make waves so big, never mind what you and I mean to each other," I said, putting my hand on his knee and giving it a squeeze. 

"Don't worry about that. I ain't gonna act any sort'a way with him. But I gotta say, I been thinking stuff since before you, back in Blackwater. He's been doing things I don't understand, I guess he's just been a little more ruthless. I've been hoping it's a rough patch, but things ain't improving; and since being with you and hearing what you've gotta say, well," he sighed, shaking his head a little, "I've been seeing more clearly, is all."

"What do you mean?"

"It means a couple months ago I wouldn't've dreamed of quitting, leaving the gang. Now I think of it damn near every day."

 My heart thumped and I stared with wide eyes. Did he really just say that?

Arthur handed me the knife by its handle with the cooked meat on the end. I took it from him, blowing on it to cool it as I processed his words. 

The sky was painted navy blue, now, with streaks of pink only just visible on the horizon. I couldn't see the stars through the thin layer of cloud, but it was a pleasant evening regardless. Too pleasant to feel so jarred by such a conversation.

I pulled the meat off the knife once it was cool enough to touch, then speared another raw piece and handed it to Arthur to cook for himself. 

"If you're really thinking that way," I began carefully, taking a bite of meat to break up my words and allow me time to think, "then I can only say I'm sorry. I know you've been there a long time and it must be daunting to suddenly have these feelings."

"Yeah, no doubt," he snorted, watching the fat ooze from the meat, dripping into the fire and sparking bright.

"I'll stick with you, no matter what," I told him confidently, "I didn't have much at all when I joined, I was just floating along, getting by. You've made me happy, sweetheart, given me something more to wake up for than just surviving."

"You know, I could say the same thing to you. Maybe it's realising that that's made me consider getting the hell out. If I could spend each day with you, without all the crap that plagues us now," he trailed off and shook his head with a wistful sigh. 

I reached to him, stroking my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. His shoulders loosened at my touch, dropping down as he took a slow breath. 

"Let's just enjoy this, hm? Being out here, just us, on a nice warm evening. Isn't this lovely?" I smiled at him and he chuckled. 

"You're too goddamn precious, you know that?"

I grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

The two of us ate the rabbit between us and spent the evening sat around the fire in peace. It really was lovely, just enjoying some time alone with him. I felt as happy as I had in Saint Denis, even without the cushy bed; perhaps even more so. I liked being outdoors, breathing in cool, clean air, enjoying that sweet smoky smell of the fire, hearing crickets and owls working together to compose a constant song. No comfy bed could beat it, not when the city could only offer less savoury sounds and smells. 

We crawled into the tent together, letting the fire smoulder on outside, keeping us warm while the temperature dropped once the sun was hidden beyond the horizon. Arthur was curled around me from behind, his body knitted against mine in a perfect copy of my silhouette, his hand around my front where I held it in mine. We slept like that.

Not through the night, however.

I awoke at some ungodly hour – the sun not yet close to rising – needing to pee. The last thing I wanted was to remove myself from Arthur's arms, but I knew I'd never be able to fall back to sleep without taking care of business. So, I very gently lifted his arm and scooted out from under it, and out of the tent. I crept away from our campsite and did what I had to do. 

I fed our dwindling fire with a couple more sticks before heading back into the warm privacy of the tent, settling down on my side next to Arthur. I was tempted to pull his arm back over me, but I was too scared of waking him. It didn't matter, though, since he shifted and wrapped it around me himself.

My heart warmed at the sleepy action, and I smiled at his tired, breathy groan as he moved around to get comfy huddled up behind me again. I thought he was asleep until I felt his lips at the back of my neck, pressing soft, sweet kisses there above the bandage wrapped around it.

"You okay?" He murmured. 

"Call of nature," I whispered and he hummed in understanding, kissing me again as his arm tightened around my waist. "I'm sorry for waking you."

"Don't be," he breathed, letting his hand creep up my body, dragging along, unabashedly exploring. I let out a surprised laugh. 

"Arthur?" I questioned, feeling him hum and talk against my neck as he continued to trail his mouth around to the space below my ear. 

"What is it?" 

"What're you–" my voice left me as his hand reached my breast, fondling me through my clothes as his hips curled forwards, pressing himself against my backside. "Arthur," I repeated, this time in a breathy moan. 

I tilted my body, pressing my backside firm against him, giving my permission for things to go further. His hips rolled, a shaky groan vibrating below my ear. He was hard. Not even just getting there, already totally hard. I gasped, my body stiffening involuntarily, in turn making Arthur freeze. 

He made a dazed sound, let my breast go, backed off a little.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I weren't–" he huffed a sheepish laugh, "I weren't quite with it, there."

"What? Oh, don't stop," I pleaded with him. There was a pause.

"Really?" 

I hummed my agreement, nodding. 

"I wake up like this sometimes," he whispered, pressing his hips back to my behind, rubbing subtly, "usually it don't matter. But waking up like this, with you lying there…"

Arthur took a deep breath, his nose buried in the crook of my shoulder.

"Well, Dutch ain't likely to interrupt us here," I whispered, and Arthur laughed harder than I expected him to. 

"I would not put much past him," he joked, then kissed the side of my neck, steering clear of my bandaged wound, allowing his hand to move downwards, exploring my thighs. 

His kisses turned to sucking, his lips closing over a spot on my neck that made me gasp. Over time he'd desensitised me to my once unbearable ticklishness, now it was only pleasure I felt.

As he sucked on my skin, making me tingle, he tugged open the button on my jeans and pushed his hand inside. I cursed under my breath. This is really happening out here, I thought. He stroked me fast, perfect pressure over my clit, tight circles, having me panting in no time. 

Arthur sucked on my neck until it was on the verge of feeling tender, then he released me, pressing a kiss to the spot before resting his chin on my shoulder and peering down my body. He watched as he pleasured me, made me moan softly, forced my hips to roll on their own, encouraging the motion of his hand and simultaneously grinding against his arousal. Arthur groaned into my ear, shifted. I was trapped between his hand and his hips, pushed back and forth between the two. His heavy breaths, sighs of my name, it took away all tension in me. I wrapped my hand around Arthur's arm and clung to it as two fingers entered me, the heel of a hand grinding down. 

"Mm, I need you," he sighed to me, tilting his head and letting his nose and lips make trails of goosebumps on my neck and shoulder. His breath tickled me and I came close to losing it, my core pulsing and feeling hot and sensitive.

He fucked me with his fingers, his pace moderate, yet careful. He was always careful with me. 

My ass was exposed as Arthur used his free hand to pull my pants down along with my underwear, the air hit my skin and though it wasn't cold, I shivered. There was shuffling behind me, the sound of shifting fabric and metal belt buckles; then Arthur was hot against me, his freed erection rubbing up against my backside, a guttural moan vibrating through his chest to my back.

I came on his fingers, gripping his arm tighter, thrusting against him as the pleasure took over and drove my body to move. I moaned Arthur's name, uttering my pleads for him to have me, to take me there and then. 

"I got you, baby," he whispered, slowing his strokes, removing his fingers, giving my sensitive clit a couple of swipes that made me whimper and twitch. Arthur took his cock in his hand, guided one of my legs forward to give him access.

"Please," I sighed, unable to keep the needy desperation out of my voice. I didn't sound like myself to me, I sounded utterly debauched. Perhaps I'd be ashamed of myself if I wasn't so helplessly aroused. 

He guided himself inside me; each time we did this was easier than the last. I no longer felt any pain. Once we were fully connected, Arthur made a shaky, broken sound as he took a moment to wrap his arm around my front and hold me to him. He remained still for a moment. His face was pressed against my shoulder and I could feel his stuttered breaths rolling over me, hot and humid. 

"You're too good to me, lettin' me do this out here," he rumbled, barely audibly. His hips gave a minute pull and push, enough to have him sucking air through his teeth. 

"You say that like you're the only one who likes this," I laughed though it was more like a series of heavy breaths.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure I'm the one with the better deal. You're goddamn perfect," he whispered, thrusting, picking up the pace. His movements were measured and deep, lingering on the inward thrust, staying buried in me for a second, so deep I felt an ache bloom in my gut. 

"Wouldn't be so sure, you ain't felt what I'm feeling," I said, squeezing my muscles around him and delighting in the shot of pleasure it provided. Seemingly for Arthur too, who released a sudden, loud moan. 

"Ahh, fuck," he gasped, then began fucking me in earnest, quick and hard enough to bounce me back and forth on his length and rob me of my breath. 

I brought one hand to Arthur's, gripping it tight, my other hand going between my legs. I curiously teased my fingers along my folds, reaching down to where we were joined, straddling two fingers either side of his cock. He hummed at the contact, kissing me then clamping down to suck on another part of my neck, right where it joined my shoulder. I whined and tilted my head, encouraging him. 

Arthur was particularly confident that night, it seemed; eagerly pawing at my breasts after slipping a hand underneath my shirt. He played with my nipples, tugging and thumbing them until they were hard and sensitive. He was less hesitant than he had been before. I wondered why, but it struck me with the way he was grunting in my ear and fucking into me quick and needy, that he seemed to have a lot of pent up tension. I understood, it'd been a terrible couple of days. 

"Baby, can we– up on your knees, for me?" He requested after a moment, his movements faltering, his hand planting itself in front of me to hold himself up as he began to reposition himself. 

I was breathless as I kicked my legs free of clothing and rolled onto my front within the confines of his arms; breaking our connection only temporarily. I pushed myself up on my hands and knees and Arthur was immediately settling in behind me, grabbing my hips. He re-entered with a hiss of a curse word. The change allowed him more freedom, and he pulled me back to meet his thrusts as he picked up where he left off. His cock so firmly stimulated an incredible spot inside me and I cried out in pleasure, collapsing forward to rest my head on my folded arms as I took everything he gave. 

"Is this nice, princess?" He asked me, breath laboured.

"Yes!" I sighed, hearing his moan of a chuckle in response. He took a hand and stroked it up my spine, lifting my shirt and camisole with it. 

Arthur slowed enough to appreciate the position, only for a moment, to cast his hands down the curve of my waist, over my hips, to my backside (which he squeezed rather zealously), and back up again. All the while a low moan built in his throat. 

"Fuck, you are beautiful," his words were uttered quiet and gravelly, his voice coarse and earnest enough for me to really believe it just for that moment. It was odd, feeling such a way. 

I squeezed my muscles around him again, earning a grunt and a chuckle and a breathy that's nice. Then his breather was over and he fucked me hard, his hips smacking against my backside, his hands gripping me almost enough to bruise but not quite; he'd never lose himself enough to unintentionally mar my body with his passion. Though, I suspected my neck would bear a few signs of it with the way he'd been ravishing it, entirely intentionally.

I reached between my legs again, this position allowing me to touch him more easily. My fingers found the edge of his cock again, I enjoyed feeling him pumping in and out of me. His balls met my hand with every thrust, and I reached to cup them, hearing the way Arthur hummed and sucked in a shuddering breath. 

"What's that hand doin' down there?" He queried playfully, leaning forwards and holding himself up with a hand next to me. His chest pressed against my back, the cold metal of the fixings of his suspenders reminded me he was still fully dressed, taking me through the opening of his pants. The thought thrilled me, oddly. 

"Do you like it?" I giggled. Arthur pushed my shirt further up with his nose, then kissed me between my shoulders. 

"Mmhm," he hummed his affirmation, rolling his hips in an upward motion, breathing heavy across my back as he pressed his forehead to me. "'m close," he told me. 

He pushed himself upwards, taking his cock in hand as he withdrew. He rubbed the head of it along my folds, circling my clit until I was groaning. He was drawing out our pleasure, making it last. 

The few moments of emptiness made it all the more exhilarating when he returned to my warmth. His hands spread my ass cheeks, his thumbs venturing down to part the lips of my nether regions around his length; spreading me open. He let loose an indulgent sound, and I turned my head to look over my shoulder at him. 

"That's real pretty," he whispered, making me flush, "God, I'd love to–" he stopped, biting down on his lip and appearing to make a conscious decision to leave the sentence unfinished. 

I gave his balls a gentle fondle, and he dropped his head back to gaze at the top of the tent with a moan. 

"What's that?" I asked him sweetly.

"I'm being filthy, don't mind me," he chuckled, looking back down at me and smirking.

"Be filthy out loud, will you?" 

Arthur laughed at my bluntness, but it dissolved into a groan when I pulsed my muscles around him; a trick I'd learned very quickly that he liked. 

"You're gonna kill me, woman," he growled, his cheeks flushing peach. "I hope you realise I'm stalling, I don't wanna finish just yet. This is too damn good."

"Tell me what you were gonna say," I pleaded and with a soft sigh, Arthur squeezed my backside, letting his thumb dip between the cheeks. I jerked at the sensation.

"I'd love to finish inside you," he told me, and I swore I felt his cock twitch at the utterance. "See the mess it'd make. Told you it was filthy." 

"I'd love that too," I admitted, and he quickly shook his head. 

"I trust you don't need me to tell you why I won't."

"Of course. It's nice to imagine, though," I licked my lips and brought my hand to my clit, slowly playing with myself. I was incredibly sensitive and I released a breath, letting my eyes close. 

"Oh, it certainly is," he murmured, and began to move again. "I wanna make you cum, angel, wanna see how it feels when I'm inside you." 

"I'm almost there," I told him, rubbing myself quicker. He took me at a faster pace, grunting with exertion as he buried himself over and over, making my insides flutter and my mind grow absent; orgasm building fast. 

"That's it, darlin', I love hearing those moans," he commented, and at that point I was barely aware of the fact I was moaning. But I was. Very loudly. Any late wanderers passing by would no doubt be getting an earful. 

"Oh fuck– Arthur," I cried out, everything in me clenching up, teetering on release. 

"Where'd you wan' it, baby; when I cum?" He asked, his voice under strain and hoarse. 

"Anywhere you want," I gasped. 

Arthur's hand cupped my ass cheek, squeezing and spreading, his thumb wandering down the cleft. The presence of the digit there once again made me jerk and clench, the pleasant sensation sent me. My pleasure hit it's crescendo, my body shuddering and pulsing around Arthur's length, intensity dimming everything around me but him and the way he made me feel.

"Shit, that's nice," Arthur hissed through clenched teeth, "good girl." 

Why he felt the need to praise me, I wasn't sure, but I knew for damn sure I enjoyed it.

In that wonderful period of worriless bliss after my orgasm, Arthur pulled out of me, pushing his cock against the cleft of my ass and grinding until I could feel him spilling over my backside. His breaths came heavy and sounded like growls and he rode out his orgasm thrusting against me. 

It was intense and quick, and it ended abruptly when he pulled away, catching himself from falling backwards out of the tent with a hand behind him. A moment later I felt the blanket on my backside, wiping away his seed. I shifted and made a strange sound; it was extremely odd feeling him wipe me there.

"Sorry, I got a little slapdash with my aim, there. It was about to drip down and I–" his eyes were apologetic as he looked at me, willing me to understand what he was saying without having to spell it out (for once). 

"Oh, it's okay," I told him. 

"I didn't want it to– could'a–"

"I got it," I grinned at him and he let out a relieved chuckle. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning over me, kissing my temple. 

"Why're you apologising? That was incredible," I breathed, shifting to lie on my back below him, my shirt and camisole still bunched up, exposing my breasts. His eyes drifted down my body, between my legs briefly. His eyes – usually so soft and easy when looking at me – held an exhilarating air of hunger and pride.

After a moment, he spoke. "Yeah, it was, weren't it?" His little smirk and his cheeky tone sent me into a giggle. "You're an incredible woman," he added, leaning down and nuzzling his face against my neck, gently pressing a kiss to my bandage. 

His body settled over mine, his cock nestling between my legs, coaxing gasps from the both of us.

"I never know what to say when you say things like that," I whispered. 

"You ain't gotta say nothing, just believe it," he answered, kissing my neck, then my jaw, then my cheeks. 

"You could take your own advice, there; the most handsome cowboy I ever did lay eyes on," I grinned up at him and cupped his face in my hands, trailing my thumbs over his cheekbones, "though he don't know it."

"You ain't seen my last bounty poster," he scoffed out a laugh and I rolled my eyes playfully. "I look like one ugly son of a bitch."

"Well, they couldn't put a real flattering picture up, otherwise who'd wanna bring you in? They'd be hunting you down to marry you instead."

"Alright, Miss Jemima Jones, what con you pullin'?"

"Never mind," I sighed, shaking my head at him, "I guess if you really knew how nice you were to look at, you'd get nothing done. Jus' be staring in the mirror all day like Miss O'Shea."

Arthur laughed, but pushed his face into my shoulder as if to hide it. 

"That's why she don't do much. Her beauty's a blessing and a curse," I added.

"Dutch let's her off jus' to keep her quiet. Molly, she… she don't have it as easy as it looks," Arthur told me, lifting his head to look at me. 

"No, I don't imagine she does. Can't be easy being in love with someone like Dutch," I acknowledged.

"No. I've known Dutch years, and I have to say… he don't always treat his lady friends all that good."

"In what way?" I frowned. 

"Easily replaced," he simply murmured. "So, I'd say falling for him; that's her worst curse. He's been brushing her off a lot, lately."

"You think he's getting…" I trailed off, not wanting to say bored, but meaning it. Arthur understood and nodded. 

"Seen it plenty of times, unfortunately."

Well, I thought, Molly could do a lot better than him anyway. But I didn't say it.

After a moment I said; "where are my pants? It's odd talking about Dutch when I'm naked from the waist down," and Arthur laughed, sitting up, back on his heels. 

He handed me my pants and I redressed – an easy process with my drawers still lining the inside of my jeans – as he fixed his own clothes. He moved to sit down beside me, and we were both a little out of breath after moving around in the confined space. We laid side by side, staring up at the top of the tent and watching the shifting light dance across the canvas. A reminder that the thing was fabric, not brick, and we'd essentially just slept together out in the open in the middle of nowhere. Goodness me.

"What we just did," I began, rolling my head to the side to look at him; he did the same, "was real naughty." I smirked.

"What did you expect when you hooked up with a lowlife criminal?" He quipped and I snorted, shaking my head. 

"Well, I don't know. Never envisioned myself doing that."

"You disappointed?"

"Absolutely not."

"Well, I wouldn't worry too much about our bad behaviour, then," he grinned at me. 

"Is that your life moral? Bad behaviour is okay as long as the result is satisfactory?" I questioned, all in good fun, of course.

"Well, not consciously, no. But it does look that way, don't it?" He said, almost a little sheepishly. We shared a laugh and I shook my head at him affectionately.

"You're a funny man," I breathed, rolling over to snuggle up against his side, laying my head on his chest. I listened to his heartbeat, a little elevated. 

I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I could not find the courage. Instead I thought it, over and over, hoping he knew it.