The gang has just escaped Blackwater and you're finally reunited with Arthur.
But happiness is short lived.
Taken from him again, can he get you back?
What else does the world have in store for you both
Can Arthur protect you from what comes next...
A/N: Happy belated Valentine's day. Warning, smut and fluff to follow.
2 Months later
The air is warm as spring takes its grip across the landscape; you sit shading below a tree enjoying the warm breeze that licks at your skin. The camp is peaceful as the warm air brings out the best in Susan who has opted to give everyone a day off from chores. Most of the gang had chosen to laze around but Hosea had taken the opportunity to go fishing. Arthur had offered to go with him, but he insisted he go alone muttering something about needing the space. Arthur informed you that it was close to the anniversary of Bessie's death and he often withdrew into himself around this time. You'd taken the chance to read but you'd become distracted. Your fingers lazily trace over the curve of your bump as you watch Arthur chopping wood, his shirt discarded in the heat, and his muscles on full display, a sheen of sweat enhancing the hard lines of his body.
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Wiping his brow of sweat he straightens and catches your eyes on him, a ghost of a smirk crosses his lips as you quickly lower your eyes to the book that lay forgotten on your lap. Your hormones had been going crazy with your pregnancy and you had been using Arthur to satisfy your urges, and he was more than happy to assist in any way he could, often dropping whatever he was doing to take you back to your tent and quell your desires. One time the urge took you so suddenly you begged him to take you then and there, not one to deny you he slipped his hand in yours and guided you around the back of Pearson's wagon. Wrapping your legs around him he took you hard against the wagon, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries, the thought of being caught turning you both on more.
Since finding out about your pregnancy Arthur had been the father-to-be you could only dream of, his actions clearly an attempt at absolving the guilt he carried of missing Isaac's early months. He'd taken to his role like a duck to water and had been practically glowing with happiness. He'd told you of the money Hosea had given him and how you were all so close to getting out. You'd pleaded with him to leave then and there, the conversation Dutch and you had had still fresh on your mind, but he insisted that he and John had things to finish first. You hadn't told him about Dutch's threat knowing no good would come of it, Arthur wouldn't hesitate to murder him, and you knew he would never be able to live with the guilt if he did. Instead, you kept quiet, enjoying your pregnancy but keeping a wide berth of Dutch where possible and so far, he had afforded you the same courtesy.
A dark shadow shades your book causing you to raise your head in protest, but the words are swallowed as you see Arthur standing over you with one arm leaning against the tree, his skin shining, shirt in hand and his chest heaving from the physical labor, you fight the urge to lick your lips as you take him in and feel your hormones stirring.
"Ya know, ya make it real hard for a man to concentrate on his work."
"I don't know what you're talking about Mr. Morgan." He offers you a hand, which you gratefully take, your small bump already hindering your movements.
