After Party ❥Arthur Morgan

After Party ❥Arthur Morgan

ARTHUR MORGAN X FEMALE READER

CW➻❥ Semi public sex ⋆ orgasm⋆ drinking ⋆

WC➻❥1700➻❥ this isn't well proof read so any mistakes or odd things are purely accidental

Summary➻❥ After your father dragged to the mayor of Saint Denis’ party, you drunkenly but mostly soberly hook up with a Mr. Arthur Kilgore right outside in a carriage

A/N ➻❥ I didn’t think I would actually finish this but I’ve been on a writing groove lately so more fics to come hopefully

Do Not Steal Or Translate My Work!

You were at Mayor Lemieux’s garden party, your father had begged you to go, simply to find you a husband. You walked around, observing all the older men, did your father really think one of these men could sweep you off your feet?

“More wine?” A server came up to you, “oui, s'il vous plait” you set your glass on his tray, his other hand replaced your empty one with another glass, “merci.”

You examined the balcony, “important” men were staring back, one of them was Angelo Bronte. Your fathers most evil associate, you knew Mr.Bronte was nothing but a manipulative and greedy immigrant. You would beg your father to cut ties from Bronte but you were waved away every time.

“Ah there she is!” Your father wrapped his arm around your back, “oh Mayor Lemieux, what a party,” you smiled.

“Merci, are you enjoying the vin?” His voice seemed awkward, “why of course, you surely pick well.”

A small group had formed, your father refused to let you leave, in hopes you’d be attracted by these married “suitors.” A man that had been on the balcony joined the group, “Mayor, what a pleasure.” He clasped his hand with Lemieux’s glove, “are you enjoying yourself sir?” He cleared his throat against his accent, “it’s, different.” Perhaps your father was right to make you stay, “I haven’t seen you before.” Your father remarked, the man awkwardly laughed, “I’m an oil man out west, I’m visiting for business.”

“Well mister oil man would you mind grabbing a drink with me?” You unlocked your arm from your fathers. “I can’t deny a drink,” he smiled and began walking with you.

“Are you married mister?” You dragged, “Kilgore.” He answered, “I am a single man darlin’.”

You blushed and made it to the bar, “bonjour madame, monsieur,” the bartender grinned.

“Bonne soirée,” you greeted back, “I’ll have a glass of champagne, and for you Mister Kilgore?” He cleared his throat, “do you have whiskey?” Mr.Kilgore seemed nervous, “oh why of course monsieur!” The bartender gleamed, he set down the glass of champagne and began pouring the glass of whiskey.

“Merci beaucoup,” you cheered your class and stepped away from the bar. Mr.Kilgore set his hand on the bottom of your back as you navigated through the crowd.

With drinks in your system, you had been flirting with Mr.Kilgore the entire night, he wasn’t rejecting them either.

“What if we go somewhere, more private?” You giggle, “if we leave this party, you’re gonna love me tonight.” He remarked, “will you leave with me?” You advanced, he smirked and looked away from you, “are you sure about that darlin’?” His voice rasped, “I wouldn’t be asking now would I?”

You had both snuck just outside the mayor's home, an empty carriage sat just down the road. “What if we,” you hint as you slow at the carriage, “sweetheart that’s a bit risky now ain’t it?” He was hesitant, “well mister Kilgore, this whole ordeal is quite risky itself, I think it could be fun.” You smirk, your free hand opening the door,

Mr.Kilgore gently closed the door to the one bench carriage. It was small but how much room did you even need? Your ballgown surely didn’t fit within the confines of the carriage, but it didn’t matter, Mr.Kilgore would be tearing you out of it in a moment.

He scrunched his lips as he studied your dress, “oh don’t worry sir, it’s a simple one, just get the strings.” You had slipped in a rather simple ball gown, everything was already attached to the dress, the only thing you had to do was slip into it.

You turned yourself away from Mr.Kilgore, your back was touched by cold calloused hands as he worked through the tight strings.

“What’s your name Mister Kilgore?” You finally asked, you figured you should know the man’s name before he saw your bare body. “Arthur,” he pulled the final silk lace loose.

You took a deep breath as the constricting pressure released. You pushed the straps that laid on your shoulders, your breathing was heavy as Arthur’s hand hesitantly pulled on the fabric that covered you. “Are you sure about this?” He looked up from your cleavage, his eyes desperately searching your face for an answer, “absolutely.” You pulled on his bow tie, bringing him into a delicate and precise kiss. Your head was slightly cocked, your lips slowly connected, distracting you as Arthur’s hands meticulously removed your dress.

Your torso was exposed, the rest of your outfit was a large mass of blue that flooded the carriage.

You could feel your lipstick rubbing off against Arthur’s face, marking where your scandalous lips had touched.

“Darlin’ I need a bit of your assistance,” he pulled back, looking down at your body and the pestering ball gown. You did your best to stand in the cramped space, Arthur’s hands pushed the dress down your legs, revealing how carelessly you were dressed beneath your dress.

There was a moment, Arthur was quiet as he admired your body. You blushed at how vulnerable you had made yourself for a man you had only known for two hours.

You pulled on the buttons of Arthur’s dress shirt, “Mister Kilgore if you mind, I would like a chance to study your body.” You giggled.

You both tackled the suit that Arthur wore: removing his jacket, bow tie, and his white button up. His hand travelled around to it neck, touching the back of it before intertwining itself with your styled hair. He pulled you in for another kiss, his warm body touching against yours as your bodies shifted.

He was on top of you, his fingers squeezing and wondering over your breast. The kiss was hot and heavy; moments away from escalating to what you wanted.

He pulled back from the kiss, looking down as he directed his hand to his pants. You looked back up, fixated on his face.

He looked back to you, both of you making the same expression of shock as his cock pushed through, entering into your eager and wet pussy.

“Fuck,” you blurted as he continued to let himself fully fit. Arthur gritted his teeth and let out a groan as he adjusted himself.

His pace started slow, he analyzed you searching for the speed that pleased you best.

You gripped the back of the seat, your nails digging into the leather. Arthur was quiet with his groans, you could feel the hot air leave his nostrils as his chest rumbled.

“You like that sweetheart?” He asked, unsure of his next move. “Faster,” you mustered before wrapping a hand in his hair and pulling him into a kiss. Arthur obeyed the command and increased his pace, your skin smacking together a little harder.

You pulled at his short hair, moaning against his lips every time his tip hit exactly where it needed.

You pulled back from the ravenous kiss, “we should really get back to the party.” Anxiety had washed over you, what could your father be thinking right now, what if he needed you.

“Darlin’ I’ll do whatever you want,” he finished with a deep and aggressive thrust.

You practically belted out a moan at the sudden feeling, your hands gripping and digging into whatever they held onto.

The thrusts were delicate, Arthur slowly taking you through a growing climax. Arthur was nuzzled in your neck, kissing your fragile skin.

“I really think,” you sentence is cut by a moan. Every time you felt that you should really stop, your body would always react, begging to stay.

Your hands were travelling around his sculpted torso, taking in how his chest hair covered his body in a light layer. “Take a breath darlin’.” He smiled against your lips, you inhaled, deeply.

A hard thrust caused that air to come rushing back out, your nails to dig into his back, something you had only just started navigating.

A hot flash ran over you, your orgasm flowing throughout you. Your legs shook as the pleasurable feeling finally drained out of you.

You were panting hard, your body recovering from the surge of overstimulation.

Arthur pulled back from you, his body soaked in a layer of sweat, a combination of his and yours.

You opened your mouth to speak, but words were unable to process and come out.

“Best we should back, right sweetheart?” Arthur’s words pulled you out of the haze that he had put you in, as well as the alcohol in your system, if it hadn’t been sweated out.

“I suppose you’re right Mister Kilgore.” You sat up, your chest rising and lowering, synchronized with Arthur’s.

You searched through the sea of your ballgown, finding the corseted top.

You turned your back to Arthur, who was finishing the buttons of his dress shirt. “Do you mind?” You asked, “it ain’t gon’ to look pretty.” He admitted and grabbed the loose corset lace.

He pulled the final string tight and brushed your shoulders. “Would you like me to do your bow tie?” You turned, “nah, I think my outfit will do fine without it.” He tucked it inside his jacket coat.

As you stepped out of the carriage, cold and freeze air greeted your nostrils.

You looked back at the carriage, the mirrors were significantly fogged. You looked down the street, a man and woman watching from beneath the light of a streetlamp.

You embarrassing smiled, your face becoming flush in color.

You pulled your hair out of the now messed up-do.

You fluffed your hair with your fingers roughly, hoping the curls from the previous hairstyle could save your up kept look. “Darlin’ you look just fine,” Arthur looked at you, “are you sure?” You begged, Arthur stopped walking, holding your shoulders. “Sweetheart you look just as beautiful as when I first looked at ya.” A smile gently cracked from your worried frown.

“Now darlin’ would you like get back to that party?” He let go of your shoulders, his arm slowly jutting out. You interlocked your arm with his and continued your strut down the street back to the mayors house.