Dutch's Daughter [[RDR2 Arthur Morgan x OC]]

chapter 25; saint denis

"Pa!" Squeals Jack as he runs into John's arms. John scoops him up, holding him tight to his chest. "Boy, am I glad to see you."

"Where's our host?" Charlotte chips, ruffling Jack's hair as she walks past the reunited pair.

"Well, you took your time at the graveyard. Let's just get going." Dutch grumbles, walking past them towards the horses lined outside the gate. He pauses, eyeing the guard. "Hey friend... Thank Mr. Bronte. For everything."

The group saddles up, setting a fast pace out of the city. "You know, Arthur, Mr. Bronte invited us to a garden party at the mayor's house." Dutch gives a throaty laugh. "Us! Just simple country boys."

John keeps a hand on Jack wedged in the saddle in front of him. For this first time, he feels like a true father, glad to have his son close to him. With that, comes a flood of parental guilt. "Jack... are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Papa Bronte said you'd come for me." Jack looks up at John, his sweet Marston eyes watching his father's scarred, stern face. When he looks down at his son, he's softened for a moment. "I'm... I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For that! For taking so long to come and get you. Did they... do anything to you?" Scared to hear the answer, the question comes out slow and pained.

"I had a fun time! I had my own room with my own bed and a big toy box. Have you ever had spaghetti, Pa?"

John lets out a sigh of relief. "What's spaghetti?"

"It's food. It kinda looks like worms but it's really yummy." Jack giggles. "Papa Bronte taught me lots of Italian words. You know cavallo means horse-"

"Don't call him that, Jack. Please." John bites and immediately Jack recluses, slinking back into his fathers body, mouth shut tight. "Your momma missed you. Like you wouldn't know." John attempts to recover and with success, Jack perking back up and unloading a million questions about the new camp. Bronte may have spaghetti, but he's nothing compared to Abigail.

Dutch and Arthur discuss the events of the evening. Arthur fills him in on what happened at the cemetery and the havoc they reaped there. In turn, Dutch describes his time with the notorious Angelo Bronte. Their evening was accompanied by a finely stocked bar but was otherwise sub-par. He describes Bronte as an intolerable blowhard who runs the city but Dutch being Dutch was able to go in with a gun and leave with a party invitation. Every rich fool in Saint Denis will be attending this party but before he can start planning, Micah is calling out from the house.

"There they are! I think I see Jack!" Micah's statement rouses the whole camp to life, everyone gathering to see if it's true. Abigail rushes to the front of the line, pushing past everyone to reach her son. Within seconds, John has him off the horse and his mommas arms, wasting no time in filling Abigail in on the wonder that is spaghetti. She tucks him into her, cradling him close and sobbing quiet joyful tears for her boys return.

She looks up at John with wet eyes. "Thank you, John, for bringing my boy back safe. Thank you, all of you!" She carries Jack back to camp, into the swarm of camp women ready to look him over.

Meanwhile, John is making quick plans to drink the remainder of the night away in celebration of reunited family. Bill and Uncle start dragging out cases of cheap beer and whiskey. Lenny throws a few logs on the fire until the flames are roaring high. Javier fetches his guitar, plucking an upbeat toon that gets the whole camp singing and dancing. Molly finds her spot tucked under Dutch's arm, just drunk enough to forget why she's mad at him. Abigail and John dote over their returned son as the boy claps happily in his Ma's lap. Karen, already drunker than a skunk, is singing loudest and trying to pull Charlotte into a wild spin around the fire.

In a fit of laughter, Charlotte slithers out of her grip, toppling backwards. Her ankle catches the edge of a log and she loses balance completely, feeling herself lose the battle with gravity. But before she can meet the ground, two strong arms scoop under hers and her back is against a hard chest. Familiar lips press into her hair as hands wrap around her torso, pulling her closer. Warm breath traces down her cheek, her neck until a mouth is rested at her collarbone, impatiently nibbling. Hands wonder down her hips, gripping possessively before spinning around.

_ _ _ _ _

"Poison Curse" by Port Sulphur Band

"Arthur..." Charlotte whimpers, watching the reflection of the fire dance in his eyes. Stepping backwards, he pulls her with him, connecting their lips again.

"We can celebrate later." He mutters, swiping his top lip with his tongue. "I've got plans for you."

The next kiss is a mess of hurried steps up the stairs and hands tangled in untrimmed hair, only coming lose to undo shirt buttons. Unencumbered by clothing, Charlotte sits on the edge of Arthur's bed. In a second, his hand are cupping her face, his body forcing hers back on the bed, ass scooted to the edge. He plants kisses on her lips, her jaw, her collarbone, traveling further down her chest, pausing to awe at her breasts before leading to her hips, leaving dark marks everywhere they touch.

His rough hands lift her knees up and apart, finding her already wet and ready. In a moment, his mouth is there, consuming her like she's his final meal. Her breathing becomes uneven, mixing with moans she can't hold back. Completely unhinging her with only his mouth. Unaware, lost in total pleasure, she doesn't realize just how loud she's being until Arthur sneaks a finger to her lips, slipping it into her mouth. Without hesitation, she accepts it, sucking obediently.

"'atta girl..." Arthur moans into her. She feels the familiar pooling in her belly and she bucks her hips forward, aching for his attention. He removes his finger from her mouth and returns it where she needs it. "It's yours, baby. Take it." And with that, a mess of guttural moans escape her, orgasm rocking through her body, leaving her legs shaking uncontrollably. Fingers gripping his chin, she pulls him close to her, mouth locking on his as she tastes herself on his tongue.

Relaxing into the quilted bedspread, Charlotte curls into a ball on her side, taking slow breaths until her heart isn't beating out of her chest. Arthur lays beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and sucking on her neck, taking in deep inhales of her sweet perfumed scent.

"Charlotte..." He whispers, nibbling on her ear lobe. Eyes shut tight, all she can manage to respond with is a simple "hm?" He presses into her shoulder, rolling her onto her back so he can look her in the eye.

"I love you..."

A giant smile pulls across Charlotte's face. "I love you, too, Arthur." She whispers, kissing him deep and long, cradling the back of his neck with her palm. His rigid body relaxes, melting into hers, skin pressed to skin. Connected in every way, their bodies rock together with nothing but the sounds of their ragged breaths and moans. Her nails dig into his back, desperate to keep him close, liquid heat coursing through their bodies, ready to spill over. She lets out a soft cry and he thrusts harder and harder until with one final thrust, he pours over the edge, dropping his head into the crook of her shoulder.