What happens when Johanna arrives on Maxson's doorstep, drunk? Smut, that's what. This chapter contains graphic sexual situations involving a drunk person. It's pure trash. If that's not your thing, you probably shouldn't read this chapter.
I wrote this months ago, but I lacked the courage to post it. Here goes nothing.
xXxX
For a moment she forgot why she was there, with Arthur standing in his gray, Brotherhood issued boxers and nothing else. The rest of him was on display for her eyes to devour, and she did. She couldn't help herself.
Perhaps it was the alcohol clouding her mind, but Jo thought she had never seen a more perfect male specimen, besides in her anatomy books. Bulging biceps, substantial pectorals. She counted eight, clean cut abdominal muscles, and she eyed them appreciatively until she came to his hips, where a dark trail of hair disappeared under the band of his underwear.
Her perusal was interrupted when Arthur took her shoulders in his hands.
"What's going on?" Arthur looked panicked and Jo vaugely wondered what time it was. Of course he would think something was wrong after the way she had pounded on his door in the middle of the night. "Johanna, what is it?"
"I need to talk to you."
"What? Johanna are you drunk?"
"I think I am," she admitted with a sheepish grin.
He looked at her, incredulous. When he realized there was no emergency, his face transformed into something akin to a snarl.
"Go to bed, Polowski."
He made to shut his door, but, desperate, Johanna put her foot in the way to stop it from closing.
Her eyes began to water from the pain. Even with her boots on, the impact from the heavy, metal door was jarring.
"Ow," she gasped, frozen to the spot. She sincerely hoped she hadn't just broken a bone.
"Well, that was stupid," Arthur hissed, but his tone had lost a little of the bite. After a moment's consideration, he opened the door back up. "Get in here before you wake the whole ship up."
She didn't have to be told twice, though she did limp slightly on her injured foot.
"Sit," he ordered, motioning not to the chair by his desk, but his bed.
Emboldened by the alcohol, Johanna crossed the room and made herself comfortable on the edge of Arthur's bed. She tried to catch his eye, but he seemed determined not to look at her.
"I know you're mad at me," she goaded him, but his eyes remainded downast, his jaw clenched. "For what it's worth, I'm mad at me too."
He ignored her, kneeling down in front of her, fingers making quick work of her shoelaces before he pulled her boot off completely.
There was a bruise beginning to form accross the top of her foot, which Jo had expected.
"I don't love him you know." The words were only half true, but they flowed from her lips naturally and sounded sincere. She was becoming quite the skilled liar.
Her words seemed to have some effect on Arthur. Though he still didn't look at her, his eyes softened fractionally.
He took her heel in his hand with a gentleness that seemed out of character for him. Arthur ran his hands across the abused flesh, so lightly that she didn't feel the pain, just the tickle of his calloused hands over her much softer skin. After a few moments, he pushed harder, checking for breaks, then moved on to make sure that all of her toes were in working condition.
At that moment, Johanna didn't care about her injured foot, her body was on fire, aching for Arthur to keep touching her. She burned for him, as always, but it was intensified by the alcohol in her blood.
"Nothing's broken," he decided, letting her foot fall gently. She silently mourned tbe loss of his touch.
"That's good," Johanna managed, breathlessly. Arthur didn't seem to notice her state.
"I'm sorry," he grumbled out, eyes on her black and blue foot. She took note of his apologetic expression, but her attention strayed to his exposed body.
"I know how you can make it up to me," she said suddenly, licking her lips.
He looked up then, meeting her eyes finally.
"Is that so?"
"Touch me," she said with a crooked grin, hands going to the zipper of her jumpsuit. Like lightning, Arthur reached out and took her hands in his, stopping her from pulling the zipper down past her breasts.
"Stop this," Arthur demanded, though his eyes were glued to the open neck of her jumpsuit where he could just make out a hint of cleavage. "You're drunk."
"I'm not that drunk," she lied, taking his hand in hers and placing it on her breast over the material of her clothing. "I want you to touch me, Arthur. I've missed you so much."
He let go of her as if burned, running his hands through his already messy hair in exasperation.
"You need to go. Now."
Johanna felt a little put out, but she could see the desire in his eyes, the tent in his boxers. He still wanted her. Hands free now, she quickly pulled down her zipper to show Arthur that she wore nothing underneath.
"I don't think you mean that," she whispered, pulling apart the folds of fabric to expose herself completely.
She had never been vain, but she felt a twinge of pride as she watched Arthur's hungry eyes roam over her breasts. They were nothing special, just a little over a handful, with pert, rosy nipples that were hard from the cool air.
He had been rendered speechless, instinct taking over as he inched towards her rather than away.
"Johanna..." he murmered, fists clenching at his sides. "You're going to regret this in the morning."
So close. He was so close, she could feel the heat coming off his skin. Still, he seemed hesitant to make a move.
Johanna leaned forward and pressed her lips against his with a courage she hadn't known she posessed. She was relieved when he kissed her back, though it was slow and hesitant. Daringly, she took one of his hands in hers and brought it back up to her heart. He groaned, palming her bare breasts and Jo arched her back to press herself fully against his hands.
It was everything she had wanted and more. His thumbs ghosted over her nipples, teasing the hard buds, while his mouth devoured hers in a very primal way. Giving in to instinct, she fisted her hands in his hair to keep him close.
She was left wanting when he pulled back, and she was seconds away from complaining about the loss when his mouth clamped down over her right breast. She hissed in pleasure, throwing her head back as his tongue flicked over the nipple.
"Yes," she moaned, tightening her fist in his hair. His beard scratched at the sensitive skin of her areola as his mouth worked, but it only added to the stimulation. She loved it, and she told him so. "You're so good at this," she whispered in his ear. She felt his lips twist into a smirk against her skin before he drew back, releasing her breast with a wet pop.
She caught a glimpse of his expression before she pulled his mouth back to hers in a feverish, somewhat sloppy, kiss. Pure lust.
When his tongue parted her lips, Jo was lost for a second, unsure of how to respond to him. He slowly coaxed her tongue into his own mouth, showing her what to do by example. It didn't take her long to catch on. Kissing Arthur was always so easy.
His hands ran up her arms, to her shoulders. It took Johanna a moment to realize he was pulling at her jumpsuit, attempting to remove her arms from the sleeves. He was more of a hindrance than anything, but she obliged him, finally letting go of his hair as she struggled to help him pull her arms out of her sleeves without breaking their kiss.
With the deed done, Johanna found herself flat on her back, mouth still attached to Arthur's. His body was crushing hers into the mattress, but she found that she didn't mind, not one bit. The feel of his bare chest against her skin was tantalizing, and Jo found herself raking her nails down his back, trying to pull him closer.
There was no space left between them, and Johanna could feel his erection against her leg, hard as steel and straining against his boxers.
It didn't take much coaxing for her to spread her legs, only a slight nudge with his knee, and suddenly he was pressed against the apex of her thighs, right where she wanted him.
Crazy with desire, Jo gripped his buttocks and pulled him closer as she lifted her hips to meet his.
He swallowed her moan as they grinded together, his hands fisting in the sheets around her head as he rutted against her. It felt amazing, even with the fabric between them. Every stroke left her more sensitive than the last, evoking in her a deeply carnal need for a more substantial touch.
"Touch me," she demanded once more, breaking their frenzied kiss.
He sat up on his knees, and for several long moments he just looked down at her, eyes full of adoration. Jo was breathless from the weight of his gaze and she realized that this was more than just sex for him, too.
He picked up her foot and discarded her other boot onto the floor where it landed with a heavy thud in the otherwise silent night.
The sound of her zipper was just as loud amidst their heavy breathing as Arthur pulled it down the rest of the way, exposing the very top of her pubis.
Encouraged, she lifted her hips and attempted to wiggle out of her jumpsuit. Arthur peeled the material down her legs with some trouble, but soon her clothes were in a heap on the floor and she lay bare before him.
Despite her inebriated state, Johanna felt her cheeks grow warm as Arthur stared at her body.
He smirked a little, eyes still greedily exploring the parts of her that no man had ever seen before.
"You're so beautiful," he told her, encouraging her to spread her legs wider with a touch to her knee.
His hands were on her body again, squeezing her breasts, her hips, her thighs- touching everywhere but the one place she truly needed him. He was teasing her.
"Arthur," she whined, arching her back as he kissed the area between her breasts.
"Say my name again," he spoke against her stomach as he trailed kisses down her body, pausing below her belly button. His nose was in her pubic hair and she realized what he was going to do seconds before he did it.
"Arthur!" She exclaimed loudy as his tongue slipped between her slick folds. He used one hand to part her labia and began the assault of his tongue on her most private part.
She loved the sight of him between her legs. He started with her clitoris, licking and sucking gently. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before and she was soon writhing and grasping his bedsheets, crying out his name as he worked the sensitive bud with his devilishly skilled tongue.
When he forced his tongue inside of her, Johanna squealed loudly and her hands threaded through his hair. He hummed his approval once, sending small shockwaves through her body from the vibrations. Then he was thrusting in and out, effectively fucking her with his tongue, a finger rubbing her clit tenaciously.
"Oh my god," Johanna cried, though she was not religious. He was relentless and soon his name was coming out of her mouth in sobs and she had to pull at his hair, bringing him as close as possible.
The new angle allowed him deeper and it only took several more swipes of his tongue before her entire body seized up and black spots swam in her vision. For a few moments she thought she was going to black out, but she slowly came down from her high to find Arthur grinning at her, lazily licking her overstimulated clit. It was almost a relief when he stopped.
Her body was molten and pliable, a puddle in the middle of the bed.
Arthur kissed his way back up her body, starting with her mound, then her abdomen, her bellybutton and up her stomach.
"I love how you say my name when you come," he whispered, his breath hot on her skin. She shivered beneath him when he kissed the sensitive part of her neck.
His body covered her again as he pressed his lips to her mouth, his chest to hers, his erection hard as ever against her thigh.
"Is there more?" She practically whimpered in anticipation.
He paused and stared into her eyes, and Johanna thought she saw a flash of regret before he kissed her.
"Not tonight," he whispered against her lips.
"But you didn't..."
"There's plenty of time for that later," Arthur told her softly. "If you still want me when you're sober."
"I'll always want you, Arthur." She sighed in contentment as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Promise me," he spoke softly into her hair, playing with the end of her braid.
She knew what he wanted to hear and the words came easily enough.
"You. Only you."