Arthur wasn't a bad shot. The thought swam through my brain as another werewolf fell before us. I crouched behind him, just aiming around his side as he turned to fire over my shoulder. We made a good team and had taken out this colony of wolves fairly quickly.
That was the way it had been the last few weeks. I had helped him fill out more and more of the paperwork he'd brought with him and introduced him to hunter after hunter as his 'American connection'. I thanked god every time that they had no idea who I was. Or if they did, they kept their mouths shut enough that my identity remained anonymous. I still had the folder with my name on it, now hidden among my things in the backpack I carried. He hadn't seemed to realize it was missing either.
"Right, I think that was the last of them," Arthur said, pulling me from my thoughts. He lowered his rifle with a satisfied little smirk, chest rising and falling with adrenaline.
"I'm a little surprised you didn't smack me in the back of the head with that swing," I said as I rose to my feet, brushing dirt off my jeans.
"Oh, please," he scoffed. "I had everything calculated. I would never hit you. Unless, of course, you asked nicely."
I rolled my eyes, slinging my shotgun over my shoulder. "You don't quit, do you?"
"Why would I?" he asked, flashing that all-too-perfect grin. "We do make a marvelous team. Beautiful, deadly, coordinated. I'd be mad not to test the chemistry."
He took a step closer to me, but not too close, just enough so I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. His mercury eyes scanned me, searching for a crack in my expression, a signal for him to lean in.
There wasn't one. Though I didn't push him away either.
Because this was easier. Easier than explaining what was really going on. Easier than telling him the truth about the Hellhounds already sniffing around the edges of my soul. Easier than telling him I didn't have time for anything that lasted.
I gave him a crooked smile. "You think too much."
"I think just enough," Arthur replied smoothly. "Besides…I've been trying very hard not to ask about the little details you keep dodging."
That 'little detail'. Crowley. The deal. The ticking clock.
My smile faded just slightly, but I caught it before it could fully drop. I turned away from him and started walking back towards his car, kicking a broken silver blade into the grass as I moved towards it.
Arthur followed behind, persistent in that quiet, smug way of his. "You are quite clever, Meg. Sharp. But you drudge questions like a politician. And the thing is…" He sped up to fall in step beside me. "I'm not curious because I'm trying to be an ass. I care."
I stopped walking. That word. Those four little letters. They almost stung.
He misread my silence, taking half a step closer to me. "Look, I get it. In our line of work, trust is hard to give. But I've seen the signs. You don't sleep. You wince when it's too quiet. You check the calendar like it's a bloody countdown or the world is coming to an end. You're running from something."
I didn't answer him. Just turned back towards where we'd hidden the car, walking ahead of him without another word. He didn't follow right away, but eventually I heard his boot behind me again. He always followed eventually.
The motel room wasn't much, just a glorified four-walled room with electricity, running water, and a twin bed that creaked if you so much as looked at it sideways. But it was quiet. And private. And it wasn't Hell. That was enough for now. Though Arthur had complained about it at first, he preferred the posher hotels, like the one I had first met him in almost four weeks ago.
I peeled off my jacket as I entered, tossing it over the back of the chair that sat in the corner of the room. Arthur entered behind me, slower now, the heat of the moment dampened by confusion and concern.
"Meg…" he tried again. I was beginning to regret giving him that name instead of my own.
"Let it go, Arthur." I turned, crossing my arms over my chest. "You're not going to fix me. That's not what this is."
"You think I want to fix you?" He stepped towards me, jaw set. "I don't want to fix you, I want to know you. I want to…"
"No." I cut him off. "You want to save me. Because you think you're falling in love with me. But you're not. You're falling for an illusion. One that won't last more than a few more days, if I'm lucky."
He froze, his expression crumpling just slightly before he masked it again with that practiced, secret intelligence control.
"Would you prefer I leave?" He asked, quiet now.
I looked at him, really looked for the first time in a few days. He was loyal. Clever. Not bad to look at either. And he's probably stick around if I asked him to, for as long as I wanted him around. If I gave him even half the truth, could he…
No. I couldn't do that. Because then he'd try to stop what was coming. And nothing could stop that.
So instead of giving him an answer, I closed the distance between us, slowly. Deliberately. I smirked as his breath hitched as I stepped close enough to run my hands up his chest. I looked up at him through my lashes as my fingers found the knot in his tie and started to undo it.
"You want something real?" I whispered. "Then shut up. And take what you've been asking for."
I pushed up on my toes and kissed him, hard. And just like that, all the tension between us finally cracked and gave way to fire.
We didn't make it to the bed.
The chair my jacket was on slammed back against the wall as Arthur lifted me onto the small table next to it, my fingers already fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His hands were everywhere, my waist, my thighs, my jaw, like he was afraid I'd vanish if he didn't touch every part of me at once.
I kissed him like I meant it, because it was easier than thinking about how little time I had left. Easier than trying to explain why this would never be more than just a moment between us.
His mouth was hot against my neck, and I arched under him, gasping when his teeth grazed just enough to make me forget about everything else for half a second. Then he pushed away, braced his hands against the arms of the chair, and kissed me softly.
"You don't have to stay." He mumbled against my lips, "But at least let me show you why you should before you make a decision."
"What are you…"
I only got half the sentence out before he stopped me with another kiss. Then he dropped to a knee in front of me and started carefully removing my shoes with quiet and efficient movements.
His mouth curved into a smile as he looked back up at me as they hit the floor. It made my heart race, all thought of the conversation before vanishing. His eyes held mine as his hands travelled back up my legs, caressing my thighs before reaching the button of my jeans.
He gripped my hips with both hands and yanked me to the edge of the table. He taps my hip with a finger, silently ordering me to lift them. I did, and he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and underwear, tugging them down my legs together. He kissed the tops of my thighs, the bend of my knees, and every other inch of skin he uncovered. Impatient curses whispered from my lips with each one.
My jeans hit the floor, leaving me naked from the waist down in front of him.
My fingers slid into his hair, and he pushed my knees apart. The cool rush of air between them makes me shiver, but it doesn't last long before his mouth is there and he drags his tongue up my core. Pleasure streaks through me, white-hot and tangible.
"I'll leave this for you to fantasize about, love." He murmured against my thigh. "How good my tongue feels as it ravages you." He settled back in, his hands pushing against my thighs to keep me wide open for him as his tongue devoured my every thought. He swirled around my clit over and over, driving my need higher and higher. "I fear the little noises you make are going to drive me wild for the rest of my life."
Fuck. I would love to be able to think during this, let alone speak. To have some witty comeback or anything other than his name whispering past my lips as his teeth scraped over me. Another moan follows the last as he pushes a finger into me, a muffled groan from him answering it.
"I want so much more, love."
It would always be more with him.
He started to alternate the way his tongue flicked against me. Quick and teasing. Or long and lazy. The tension began to build in my gut as pleasure drove me deeper and deeper into mumbling madness. A second finger joined his first, stretching me wider for him. My hips rocked against his hand without my say-so as he thrust them into me.
"Fuck…I want you." I manage to say even with the pleasure rushing through me.
"You'll have me, love." He chuckled against me. "But I'm not finished with you quite yet."
I didn't bother to try to stay quiet; that had never been our game. If anything, it had become a game to see which of our names was more recognized when we checked out of motels after nights like this. You could always see it in people's faces when they realized who was moaning with pleasure like this.
I moaned again when he changed pace, his tongue now matching that of his fingers, the pleasure wrapping around my spine like a snake coiled to attack.
I opened my eyes just enough to look down at him. And fuck if that didn't almost undo me itself. The sight of him kneeling in front of me, my hands in his hair, his shirt partially unbuttoned, the way his hand gripped my bare thighs, and those silver eyes staring up at me.
My thighs trembled as he curled his fingers, stroking just the right spot to make me see white. "Arthur." My breath hitched.
"Just like that, love. That's the sound I want."
It took two more strokes of his finger before the pleasure was too much, and I fell over the edge. He continued to stroke me through it, holding me captive in the best way possible.
His fingers stopped moving, and I gently came down from the high, panting. I lock my eyes with his, both of us grinning smugly like idiots, because we both know that's not the end.
"Sit," I ordered.
"With pleasure." He purred.
Arthur took the few steps to the chair and flopped down into it. I pushed off the table and walked in front of him. I leaned forward and pushed against his shoulder before straddling his lap. I could already feel the rock-hard erection through his slacks as I rocked against his hips.
His hands came up to my hips, pulling me closer, as if he were desperate to have every inch of me. Our eyes locked again, and I smirked at the smoldering need in his. I leaned forward, kissing him passionately, our tongues dancing together in raw hunger.
My hands roamed over his body as his fingers dug into my hips, asking me to go faster. He groaned against my lips as I pushed down on him gently. I pushed away from him to trail tender kisses along his jaw, down his neck, and onto his collarbone. I bit him, sucking his skin into my mouth before letting go.
"Fuck…" He groaned in my ear.
I slid my hands down his chest, going lower and lower until my fingers found the waistband of his slacks. I smirked against his neck as I began to unbutton and then unzip them. A low groan came from him again as I pulled the waistband of his boxers down just enough to free his cock and wrap my fingers around it.
"I want you," I whispered in his ear.
I could feel just how aroused I was again. Just the thought of him thrusting into me again and again was enough to have me ready for him. I pushed off his chest just enough to see those stormy grey eyes study me as I pumped him.
"You don't have to beg for it, love." He groaned. "Not tonight."
I didn't need to wait for further approval either. I scooted forward just enough to line him up with me, and slowly lowered myself onto him. I found myself moaning softly as every inch went in, leaning against him for support once I was fully seated.
"Fucking, hell…" Arthur moaned, twitching his hips upward just a little.
"Move, Arthur." I moaned out, begging for friction.
And he gave it. Slow, torturous thrusts as he pulled half out then pushed back in. Each one dragging moans from my lips. My hands left his chest in favor of the back of the chair as he picked up speed, gripping my hips to lift me higher.
His teeth found my throat, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin just under my ear. His name began to fill the air like a symphony of pleasure only fueled by his thrusts. Our bodies moved in a rhythm of our making, something both primal and sacred.
"Fuck, you feel amazing." He moaned against my pulse.
My breath hitched again as another moan passed my lips and my back arched. I wanted him to touch me more. Needed him deeper. His thrusts began to falter, bordering on desperate and controlled beats right where I needed them to be. I knew his fingers were going to leave bruises on my hips, his grip on them hard and anchoring as he fucked me. My body craved release again, just as much as his did.
"Arthur, I…" I couldn't even dream of finishing my sentence.
There was nothing left for me to say as I fell apart at the seams. I could feel the walls of my core tighten around him, driving my pleasure higher and higher until I couldn't feel anything else. Until he came apart too, spilling deep into me even as he continued to thrust into me madly.
I clung onto him like a lifeline through it, back arching as we plummeted over the edge together. Every last movement was raw, desperate, and hungry. His name left my lips again, not to promise anything, but because I still needed something to hold onto that wasn't the returning ache in my chest.
I collapsed against him, chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. The room smelled like sex now, full and heady. He kissed my cheek gently, fingers tracing lazy circles against my thighs.
"That…might be worth sticking around for." I panted.
Arthur chuckled. "Then there's plenty more where that came from. Just give me a moment to catch my breath."
"Ya. I want to take a quick trip to the bathroom anyway." I agreed, pushing off his chest.
I kissed him again softly before removing myself from his lap, another soft moan falling from me as he slipped out of me. I picked my pants up off the floor and walked to the bathroom without another word.
Once I had the door shut, and I knew I was alone, I sank to the floor. I let out a long breath and rubbed my palms against my eyes. Just a few more days. That was all I had left.
Those hellhounds would come for me. And there was nothing, not Arthur, not Dean, not even god, that was going to stop them.