Chapter Text
Colin's meant to kill her, it's the way things go when you attack a carriage, kill the people, take the goods and leave. They’d already managed a shot to the head of the driver, scaring the horses and forcing the carriage to tip as they broke the old cheap reins holding them. He'd even sent his men away, sure that the lone, small, frail looking woman would be as simple as her driver.
But she'd put up a fight, more than he'd expected.
When he'd forced open the door she'd hit him, punched him across the face and tried to sprint away, only for him to grab her. To which she responded to of course by biting him.
He's not sure what happens next but soon she's on the ground, green skirt covered in mud, face flushed and glaring up at him looking more agitated than scared.
Not that he really cares, he's more focused on the gold chain of her necklace shining from under her shirt collar. He takes his pistol and levels it against her forehead.
"Anything you'd like to say before you go?" She keeps her brown eyes stuck to his but then something flashes in them.
It's not fear, but it's different from the anger she's been keeping.
It makes his stomach squirm, but he ignores it, deciding if she's going to be difficult then he's not going to waste his time.
As his finger starts to push down she does something he definitely doesn't expect.
She lifts herself a bit on her knees, eyes going half lidded and her head gently tilts up, gently taking the barrel of his gun into her mouth. His breath hitches as her tongue flicks out around it.
He doesn't move as she lavishes it licking around, sucking it farther into her mouth. And just as he feels his cock twitch to life suddenly its him in the mud, gun snatched from his hand, with her now standing over him.
Despite her aggressive stance, her face has a very different emotion on it as she points his spit slicked gun at him.
"Now why don't you and I make a deal," she says, not at all what he'd expected with the energy flickering in her eyes, "you, seem rather... invigorated from my display. Rather pathetically so."
Her tone is mocking as her eyes flit down from his face to his crotch, her lip making its way between her teeth before returning.
"I can continue, helping you with your problem, all I ask is after I’m free to leave."
Colin's mouth is dry, he should take control, go back about his business and find the nearest brothel to take out his frustrations, this has taken such a drastic turn.
He's too much of a man to be anything but pleased with it though. So instead he plays along.
"Alright," Her lips twitch up, as -with the gun still pointed at him- she gently kicks his legs apart and lowers herself between them.
Red hair falls in front of her face as her free hand fiddles with the ties of his breeches, when he moves to help her she thrusts the pistol under his chin. Her eyes move from where her hand is now pressing into his cock, making him hiss as it straddles the border of pleasure and pain. Something dangerous crackles in her eyes
. He expects her to snap out a threat of some sort. But instead she gently works him out into the open and all but purrs a question to him.
"What's your name?"
He doesn't get to answer as her nails drag along his shaft, slipping her thumb over the head of him, dragging a low groan from his throat.
Eventually as she continues, moving her hand across him, showing no signs of going further he forces out an answer.
"Colin."
She hums, and before he can extend the same question she dips her head down and licks across the head of his cock.
She's quick to map him, despite only having the one hand and her mouth. Her hand speeds up, and she works her mouth over him. Dipping her tongue into his slit, licking across the vein on the side, gently scraping her teeth against him. Her hand goes between fondling his balls, and sliding up his shaft, squeezing just so, twisting when she pulls her head away. Oddly he even gains pleasure from the gun as it alternates from sliding across his jaw line, to pressing harshly just above his pulse point.
And hes forced to do nothing but moan, letting out deep groans and twitching, waning to grab her head and force her down to fuck her mouth properly. His hips buck chasing after her mouth but all that does is force her one magnificent hand to leave him and press his hip down, and she's so much stronger than he would have thought.
He's so close, he can feel it bubbling in his gut, and his hips try to buck again, a type of warning as language seems to have escaped him.
And just as he's about to reach that precipice she stops completely, pulling away with a smug look.
He tries to glare, to ask who told her she could stop, but all that he can manage is disgruntled noise from the back of his throat, because suddenly she's moving.
She stands, and before he can ask she's lifting her skirt, and removing her undergarments, forcing them over her boots before moving to straddle him.
His face must show his confusion because as she rubs her gloriously wet cunt against him, she lets out a breathy laugh.
"What, did you think this was all about you ? That's hardly fair." She places the gun near his mouth and continues to rub herself against him.
The tip of his cock bumping against her clit, and being given horribly teasing moments of being dipped into her cunt.
"Be a good boy, and maybe" she says, pushing the gun hard against his lips, " maybe I'll let you touch me."
A part of him wants to rebel, to refuse to let her force the weapon into his mouth.
But then her free hand moves and in a few swift movements her tie is undone, and her shirt is open, and he's gifted with the sight of perfectly peaked pink nipples. And as his mouth falls open she pushes the barrel of the gun into his mouth. He’s not got much a choice but to take it, allow her to do what she wants.
She lets out a chuckle and slowly moves it in and out of his mouth as she moves her hips over him.
"If only your men could see you," she mutters, "what a sight you ma- ah!"
She's cut off by the loud moan that escapes her as he bucks his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside her.
She mutters something under her breath as she adjusts, hand on his hip as she gives a tentative bounce, ripping a groan from him that's muffled around the metal in his mouth.He doesn't pay attention to her reprimands as she begins to ride him in earnest. Ignores the way she continuously pushes the gun further into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat and making it harder to breathe. Everything goes straight to his cock, and all he can focus on is her.
The way her cunt is hot and wet and tight as it squeezes around him. The way she angles herself to rub her clit against his pelvic bone. The movement of her breasts and the swaying gold necklace that seems to be the home of a locket. How her words eventually fall away to moans and loud obscene keening noises. How she all but fucks his mouth with the gun, keeping in time with her bounces. He especially takes notes when as her rhythm starts to get sloppy as she loses herself she begins to neglect it.
Giving him the perfect opportunity to rip it away from her, and all she can do is let out a pathetic gasp as she loses control. But she doesn't try and steal it back, clearly too focused on chasing her orgasm, not that he minds.
With both her hands now free she grabs his torso, dragging her nails against his chest, muttering again so low he can barely hear it.
He doesn't bother with words.
His hand finds its way to her hip, squeezing it for a moment before he flips them, her letting out a pathetic little whimper, and then his hand trails up towards her breast, squeezing and pinching her nipple, earning even louder cries from her. He then maneuvers his other arm around her shoulders, pressing the handle of his pistol into her skull and pulling her up, forcing her lips to meet his.
If asked he wouldn't call it a kiss, on her end it's all biting his lips, and sucking his tongue into her mouth. For him it's just an attempt to shift his focus as he feels her walls begin to squeeze before he’s ready to be done.
They're both so close, he knows it, but he refuses to let her win and send him over the edge first. So he moves, biting her neck, working his way to bite and suck at her breasts, all as he fights the urge to cum in her.
And then it happens.
The moan that rips out of her as her cunt clamps down desperately on him is heavenly, something he would gladly hear again, and is enough to push him over the edge. He groans as he cums, his hand that had found its way back to her hip squeezes hard enough to bruise, and he drops his pistol into the mud. For the next several minutes the only sound he can hear is their ragged breathing as he slowly pulls out of her.
Eventually she breaks the silence.
"I assume that was good enough to ensure I walk away from this unharmed?"
He grunts out a laugh at her smug tone.
"I’m a man of my word, but I imagine it won't be much of a walk."
That pulls a laugh from her as she shoves him off and stands, legs shaking just a bit as she begins to right herself. She half heartedly tries to get some of the mud out of her curls before giving up and buttoning her shirt and smoothing her skirt, not bothering to find her lost underthings. Colin follows suit, sloppily closing his breeches.
He really doesn't know what possesses him to do what he does next.
Maybe it's the way she's clearly looking towards the road to Bowerstone as her out, the way she looks flushed and her eyes are returning from their blown black lust filled state to the glimmering brown of before. The way she somehow looks so innocent, despite being about as far from a blushing girl as one can get. Maybe it's because he rather likes the idea of getting a chance of being more in charge next time, and there will be a next time. He’s already decided.
He stands, grabbing her rather roughly, and before she can even think to do anything he’s removed that necklace.
She looks at him, eyes narrowed, and searching his before a crooked smile takes over her face.
"Going to try and use that to track me down, bandit man?"
“I’ve a lot of connections, trust me it won’t be much of a challenge
And she laughs. It's nothing like before, more full and loud.
"And here I thought our game was done," she says and turns towards Bowerstone, " Maybe if you're lucky, you'll find me in Old Quarter."
She starts walking, entirely focused on her journey not even trying to hide the way it's clearly altered from their activities. If anything she wears it with a weird sort of pride that a woman like her surely shouldn't flaunt.
As she goes, he opens the locket, finding an inscription made to a miss Penelope Featherington alongside what appears to be a folded note.
Interesting.