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crosshairlovebot · 20 hours

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falling for mr. batchbury (part two) / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: your long-awaited reunion with mr. batchbury has finally come, and so do you.

REGENCY AU

word count: 8,107

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing. handj*bs. biting. unprotected s*x. cr*ampie. outdoor s*x. partly clothed s*x. religious comparions.

thank you so much for your support on part one.!! the regency hunter/bad batch art that has come from this has been amazing to see i love it so much!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3

also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART TWO

According to his letters, Mr. Hugo Batchbury earned the nickname “Hunter” due to his uncanny ability to seek out enemy ships and find hidden encampments during the war. You had always known his senses to be more attuned than a normal person, so it seemed fitting for him. And it was why you ventured into your estate’s gardens, knowing he’d be able to find you with ease.

You hurried down the stone steps, lifting the skirt of your gown so you wouldn’t trip as you left the din of the ball behind you.

The ball had been to celebrate your father’s return from war. Of course, that meant the Batchbury Brothers had also returned, each with a nickname of their own. William had come to be known as ‘Wrecker’ due to his enthusiasm with the ship's cannons. Thomas became ‘Tech’ as his knowledge of engineering and other contraptions was second to none. Carlisle’s superior aim with a pistol had bestowed him with the name ‘Crosshair’. You had read it all in Mr. Batchbury’s letters, which were frequent enough that missing him was only agonising, not excruciating.

In the years that passed while they were at sea, writing was the only comfort you had – and knowing they served under your father who was a master at his profession. Your heart raced when the footman brought in the post and there was a letter from Mr. Batchbury. Usually, he would write two – one for you and one for Meg.

His letters to you varied, sometimes they told you of what he’d been doing, sometimes they held a tale from the decks of the ship, some mischief played as they rode the waves. But each contained his voice through written script, the words of the sentences so familiar you could hear them in his voice as you read.

You fell more in love with him through his letters, and he with you. Each one he sent would always detail his love for you, his eagerness to come home and love you at a nearer distance, his wish to marry you when he returned. It all sent thrills and pangs through you.

My thoughts of you only seem to increase the longer we are apart, he’d once written. My sketchbook has run out of pages, and until I can find a new one to fill, I draw your face in my dreams.

Your entire being longed to be with him.

You would write to him too, but the time between letters being sent and arriving for both of you seemed to grow more extensive as the months and years went on.

What was it they said, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, your heart's fondness for Mr. Batchbury was so strong it ached. You even requested he send you a self-portrait, just so you could see him face. He’d given it in his next letter – his face so beautifully etched in charcoal, his brow strong over intense black circles of eyes, the curve of his jaw shaded with his birthmark. You had to be careful you didn’t drop tears on it when you gazed upon it.

Meg missed him too – she missed all her brothers dearly, and she followed the papers diligently for news, thrumming with excitement when she received a letter from any of them. She had grown so much in the years that had past. Now eighteen, she had matured into a young lady; she was kind, compassionate and amiable. She was as tall as her brothers and seemed to have absorbed all their best traits too, even if they were far away.

You had been with her as she watched from the window, waiting for their carriage to arrive the afternoon just gone. She bounced on her toes in excitement while you sat on the lounge nearby, just as excited but simultaneously so anxious to see Mr. Batchbury you felt like you might be ill.

What if he saw you and you were not as he remembered? Or what if he saw you and his feelings for you were merely spurred by distance, and now were non-existent? You knew his heart to be mountainous, but mountains did fall victim to erosion when weathered by strong winds.

When you heard Meg squeal, you had jumped from your thoughts. “They’re here! They’re back! They’re here!”

She raced from the room, and you gaped for a moment before following her, your footsteps just as quick. Despite your anxieties, you were still desperate to see him.

And you father, too. You couldn’t forget about him.

You followed her outside and watched as Meg skidded to a stop as the carriage slowed and the horses stilled. The carriage door was thrown open as William– Wrecker emerged. You knew it was him from his build. He guffawed as he wrapped his arms around Meg, lifting her up and spinning her. You heard Meg laugh as you approached.

You realised Wrecker now sported an impressive scar from his ear and across one side of his face, an eye patch covering one eye, his head completely shaved. The other brothers filed out of the carriage, Thomas– Tech had a limp and now held a cane on his left side, Carlisle– Crosshair had a burn scar on one side of his head, the same side as the smattering of port wine that splashed over his right eye. He also had a wooden attachment on one hand to replace one he had evidently lost.

They each had been changed by their time at war, but they still gathered Meg into their arms, their love for their sister eternal.

Your breath hitched when you saw Mr. Batchbury– Hunter move down the carriage steps, his boots crunching on the gravel.

His hair was longer, and the bandana had changed from bright red to a rich colour that matched his port wine birthmark, but apart from that it was as if no time had passed. How was it possible he looked exactly the same? In fact, he looked even more handsome, as if the time spent in the sea air had not weathered him, but ripened his beauty.

You watched as he held his arms out for Meg, who jumped into them. He smiled into her neck, arms wrapping around her tightly, squeezing. You heard Meg begin to cry into her older brother’s shoulders, her own shaking. Your heart squeezed for her.

Though her brothers were everything to her, there was something different about her bond with Hunter. He was more than her brother, he was her guardian too, the one she always turned to, the one who had taken her in and cared for her no questions asked. Hunter was Meg’s mountain, and being without him had been harder on her than she liked to admit. Hunter soothed her with gentle shushes, one of his hands running up and down her back.

“It’s alright, Meg. I’m here now,” you heard him console her gently. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

You felt your eyes sting with tears at the heartfelt reunion. They pulled away, and you watched Hunter wipe away his sister’s tears with the pad of his thumb, a smile matching his misty eyes. You watched his hands grab hers as he took a step back, seeing her stand at his height.

“You’re so big now,” his voice cracked.

Meg laughed lightly, wiping her eyes. “You missed a lot.”

“Too much.” Hunter shook his head. “Never again.”

“Never,” Meg agreed.

“Hey!” Wrecker’s loud voice boomed when he spotted you. “Look who it is!”

You held your breath as Hunter’s eyes landed on yours. You watched the way his eyes and shoulders softened, his mouth parted. You watched his mouth turn up at the side, and the stain on his cheek darken at the sight of you. It appeared his penchant to flush at the sight of you had not changed either.

You flushed. Why had you even been worried again?

You cleared you throat and took a step forward. “The Batchbury Brothers have returned.”

“You bet!” Wrecker cheered. “And in one piece!”

“Speak for yourself,” Crosshair sneered, his remaining hand gripping the wrist of his prosthetic.

“We are, mostly, unharmed,” Tech adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Hunter is the only one of us to remain unscathed.”

Hunter sighed and shook his head. “We all survived. That’s what matters.”

“And we’re rich!” Wrecker laughed proudly.

“I heard about your acquisition of prizemoney,” you said. “Congratulations. It is a great accomplishment for you all.”

“It gives us many opportunities now,” Hunter said carefully, meeting your eyes knowingly. You felt your heartbeat pick up.

Did he…mean…?

You felt your expression lift as you gazed at him hopefully, and you watched his birthmark darken again as he smiled softly at you. The smile conveyed all the love he held for you, steadfast and immovable even after five years, even through a war. Your heart squeezed and you felt as though you might faint.

He did mean that.

“Is my father on his way?” you inquired, slightly breathless as his words danced around your head, the realisation so fanciful it hardly seemed real.

Hunter nodded. “He said he had some paperwork to drop off in London, but he should arrive by this evening.”

“Wonderful,” you breathed, smiling at him with what you hoped conveyed the same amount of love, if not more.

Now, under the cover of the moon and the ball long behind you, you raced through the maze to the centre of it; the very maze where your love for each other had blossomed. You were breathless, and you could feel the bones of your tight corset cutting into your ribs, but you didn’t care.

He would be here soon.

“Hey,” you heard his smoky tenor from behind you. You whirled around to see him standing there, holding a lantern he had taken from the courtyard adjacent to the ballroom. Along with a grey waistcoat, he wore his newly tailored dresscoat, black with some red embroidery stitched into the cuffs and collar. His black boots glistened in the light of the moon, and in lieu of his bandana, he wore a red cravat instead.

He looked dashing.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed as you took in the sight fo him.

How was it fair that he looked beautiful in all lights?

He chuckled. “Are we still using such formalities?”

You were unable to hide your smile. “What shall I call you then? ‘Hunter’?” you teased lightly.

You watched as he inhaled sharply, hands that were once relaxed now clenched. “Yes,” he rasped, his eyes never strayed from you. “Hunter is perfect.”

“Very well…Hunter,” you smiled. You liked the way it sounded on your tongue, and Hunter seemed to as well, returning a closed-mouth smile at you as he continued to gaze longingly at you. Your face felt hot as you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. The moment of silence passed through you both. You looked at him before tittering nervously. Hunter cocked his head.

“What is it?”

“All these years, I thought I would be gushing with things to say, but words have seemed to escape me,” you joked.

Hunter chuckled, a hearty sound, and walked towards you slowly with the lantern before setting it down on the stone bench beside you both. Now, in the dim orange glow, you were close enough to see those familiar brown-grey eyes, unchanged despite the time that passed.

“It’s been a long time. Far too long,” he murmured, eyes travelling across your face like a caress. You swallowed, flustered by his attentions.

You wished you were more articulate, but you had missed him so much, it was taking everything in you not to just kiss him, to instead prelude such a thing with pleasantries so it would not be so forward. It had been a long time, and you had only a few hours together where you knew of each others feelings before he left. This whole thing was unfamiliar territory for you. You knew how to be in love with him from afar, from across an ocean, but had no idea how to do it in such close proximity.

“You look well,” you said. It was a severe understatement.

“You look beautiful,” Hunter told you earnestly, his fingertips gently nudged your hands and you let them latch around yours. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm touch against your hands as he held them assuredly, his thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand. “My sketches and my memory did not do you justice.”

You felt butterflies take flight inside you. “I was worried about this part,” you breathed, too overwhelmed to think about the words that now seemed to fly out of you with no hesitation.

Hunter looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

You swallowed again and averted your eyes, focusing on the concrete next to you. “Because I hoped I would still be what you desired, after half a decade.”

Hunter tilted his head as he moved into your eyeline, forcing you to meet his eye as you both lifted your heads again. His brow was furrowed as he tried to understand. “How could you think I would no longer desire you? Did you not read my letters?”

“I did but…things can change,” you told him quietly.

Hunter’s frown deepened and he searched your face before he shook his head. He let go of one of your hands so he could cup the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, his words quiet but sure.

“Not this,” he told you. “Never this.”

Your heart squeezed. He was not real. He could not be. You loved him so much you thought you might collapse, knees buckling because of how much it consumed you. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, breathing in deeply at how nice it was to hear such a thing. To know his heart remained as mountainous as it was when he left. When you opened your eyes again, you saw his brow was drawn together, his lips pressed together. You needed them on yours desperately.

“No,” you agreed, breathless.

You tilted your chin up a little, gaze falling to his lips, a silent begging for him to kiss you. You watched his eyes move to your lips and his words came out as he stared at them.

“I have something…I need to ask you,” he said slowly, like he was nervous, like he was reciting words he had practised. You felt your whole body ignite. He met your eyes once again. “I suspect you know what it is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper in disbelief. You knew what he was going to ask, and yet you felt yourself thrum with anticipation for hearing the words out loud. “I waited,” you told him.

Hunter nodded, a mirthful smile on his face, like he could hardly believe it either. “You waited.”

You smiled and you both gazed at each other. The warm glow of the lamp lit the side of his face untouched by his birthmark, and the ballroom felt like it was on a different planet, it was so far away. Only the stars were your witnesses above you, glowing dots painting the sky. His hands were warm on you, tethering you to him. It was just the two of you, in the maze – where you both began, and evidently, would be where you continued to be together.

“Marry me.” His husky voice spoke in the space between you, and those two little words made your heartbeat race and your stomach flip over. “Please. I…adore you. It would be my greatest honour to be wed to you.”

Tears of joy stung your eyes, and you unleashed an unbridled smile that you did not dare hold back. You nodded your head quickly, eager to tell him your answer, which you need not take time to consider, you’d had five years after all.

“Yes,” you laughed. “Yes, I will marry you.”

You watched Hunter’s face light up, joy stretching his mouth wide and squishing part of his port wine stain into a triangle on his cheek. He laughed happily as he brought his other hand to your face and pulled you in for your first kiss in five years.

Your hands moved to clutch his lapels as you kissed him back. You had dreamed of kissing him again, and it felt surreal to finally be doing it. His mouth was still as hot, gentle and coaxing as you remember, and you felt yourself pressing into him as he slanted his mouth over yours. You couldn’t stop smiling though, your mouth tipping up involuntarily with your immeasurable happiness as you kissed him. In response, Hunter’s mouth did the same, chuckling before he pulled back. He shook his head and kissed you chastely before he spoke again.

“In the morning, we’ll find the vicar. I don’t want to wait,” he said, his voice hoarse but full of conviction.

“Neither do I,” you agreed, watching the way the moon illuminated his curls.

“It’s been long enough. To be apart from you for any longer,” he pressed his forehead into yours. “It would be agony.”

“I cannot be without you another moment,” you told him before bringing his lips down to yours again. Hunter groaned as he kissed you, his hands travelling down towards your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fisting the hair there. Hunter groaned again before he wrenched himself back, breathless. Apparently, he still had things to say. Could they not wait? You had struggled with words before, why did he want to say them now when there was kissing to do?

“Your father cannot disapprove of me.” he rushed out, like he was telling himself, reassuring himself. “I am no longer poor. He will let us marry.”

You smiled softly at him. All this doubt he had held, all these thoughts and apprehensions that had held him back before, they no longer existed. There was no war to fight, he was no longer destitute, Meg was well and he’d already set up a trust for her. His brothers were safe. And so was he. Everything had been taken care of. Hunter could finally allow himself to have something that he wanted. Something completely his own that did not require anyone’s opinion or approval. He had been a mountain for everyone, and now the storm had passed, the sun shone on his heart and there was no need to be worried about his family.

Though none of it had been a burden to him, Hunter could finally breathe, and he wanted to fill his lungs with you.

You brushed some hair off his forehead. “Even if he did disapprove, I would marry you anyway. I am yours, in whatever circumstance. I always have been.”

Hunter smiled, his expression soft and full of adoration. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you told him moments before Hunter brought his lips back to yours.

Hunter wrapped his arms around you and made a soft sound as you pressed into him. You felt his mouth guide yours open, and you let him, trusting him implicitly as he gently moved his tongue against yours.

You hadn’t kissed him like this before, but the hot wet of his mouth was obscenely wonderful and you were quickly obsessed with how it felt. You tried to stroke your tongue against his in the same motions and felt him moan into your mouth.

“Heavens above,” you felt him mumble as he dragged his mouth away from yours, moving it down your neck as he left open-mouthed kisses across your skin. You tilted your head back, mouth open as you caught your breath, overcome with the feel of his mouth on places you had only read about. You felt between your legs begin to get hot as you cradled his head to your neck, and when you felt him nip at your collarbone, you to let out a high-pitched cry. You were sure you were going to collapse any second.

“Hunter…” you panted.

Hunter moved across your collarbone, kissing the swallow of your neck as he did. His hands moved from your waist to hold your ass, his palms squeezing there. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched him move down towards the swell of your breast which spilled up the neckline of your gown, pressed by your corset.

He kissed the crease between them. “My love, if you will permit me.”

“Do whatever you wish with me,” you hastened to say, desperate for him not to stop.

Hunter did not need to be told twice before he kissed along the neckline, the soft flesh of your breasts meeting his lips. You mewled as his tongue lulled out and licked, before his teeth sunk into them.

“Hunter!” you moaned, head falling back.

You felt his hot breath on your now wet skin. He pulled away with a groan.

“My love, can I…can I please?” Hunter looked at you.

You blinked, trying to remember how to speak. “Can you what?”

“Can I feel you there? I fear I will perish if I do not,” he begged, eyes pleading like if you refused him, he might actually fall apart.

“I told you, do whatever you wish with me.”

A low sound came from the back of Hunter’s throat as he lowered to his knees in front of you. “Sit down on the bench.”

You followed his instruction and then he bunched up your gown before placing a hand between your legs. When you felt his fingers brush against your extremely wet folds, you whimpered and he groaned, a guttural sound that travelled right to your centre.

“Oh, Christ, you’re fucking drenched,” he rasped, moving his fingers against your seam. You panted, clutching his shoulder as pleasure travelled like lightning through your entire body. “And this is all for me.”

“All yours,” you whispered.

Hunter groaned again and pulled his fingers away. You whined at the loss of touch and then watched as he placed his fingers, wet with your slick, into his mouth. You whimpered as he moaned, his eyes closing as he tasted you.

“God, you’re heavenly.”

“Hunter,” you said breathlessly.

He wet his lips. “Can I taste more?”

“Stop asking and just do it,” you said quickly.

Hunter moved under your gown and you slid towards the edge of the bench a little more, hands gripping the stone as you felt his breath on your pussy. You cried out loudly when the flat of his tongue licked up your folds. The sensation was obscene and you felt like you were ascending when you felt his mouth move on you. You shuddered, indecent sounds coming from you as he licked and sucked, tongue moving across your most intimate part. You said his name like a chant as he moved his mouth and tongue expertly, his arms encircled your thighs, forefingers toying with the edge of your stocking, and you felt his moan vibrate against you.

“Hunter,” you strangled out, the sensations moving through you taking away your ability to utter anything but his name.

He placed your knees over his shoulders and continued to move his mouth on you. Your grip on the stone bench tightened as you leaned back at a new angle, your nails digging into the grains of the rock as you panted, the pleasure blooming inside you so heavenly you could barely put words to it.

Hunter’s tongue moved through your folds before he sucked on the small nub there. You jerked, yelping as he run his tongue over it, gently sucking as he continued to pull pleasure from you. You whined as he artfully moved his mouth over you. How was he so good at this?

You had only read about such things in novels, the descriptions making you blush and tingle all at once as you imagined what it would be like to experience it. You had experimented on your own, of course, too curious to wait until Hunter had returned home to feel the pleasure the heroines felt in your novels. But nothing you did to yourself felt as good as this.

You clenched your knees around his head and felt your body begin to shudder as the familiar coils of heat began to build in your stomach, but this time more intense than what you’d felt on your own.

“Hunter,” you told him breathlessly, intending to say more but the words felt like they were floating in a mist above you, and every time you tried to grasp them, they alluded you. “I’m–”

You heard him groan under your skirts, voice muffled between your thighs and under the silks. “Let go.”

You felt his tongue flick that nub, his hands on your thighs tightening as he performed one last ministration that caused that pleasure to erupt from you. You cried out, hands clutching the bench so hard you thought there might be indents in the stone as you came apart on his tongue. Your legs shook and your chest heaved as you moaned and whined, head thrown back as Hunter’s tongue lapped at you. You weren’t sure if the stars above you were real, or ones he had made you see.

As the pleasure waned and your body’s aftershocks slowed, you felt Hunter remove your legs from his shoulders and he fumbled with your skirts as he re-emerged. His curls were a mess, and the port wine stain on his cheek was flushed a deep purple from the heat of being under your skirts. He panted, his mouth glistening with your slick, but his eyes were bright, invigorated, like performing cunnilingus on you had energised him. He licked his lips and smiled lovingly at you.

“Amazing,” he told you, his tone awed. “Is that the first time you’ve come?”

You felt heat rise up your neck. “No.”

Hunter’s eyes widened in surprise. “No?”

“Well, I got very tired of waiting for you.” You shrugged innocently despite your face flaming. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Christ,” he said, the words scratching out of his throat roughly. “Are you serious?”

You met his pleading eyes. “Yes.”

Hunter buried his head in your lap and groaned. “I can’t believe I had to stay away so long.”

“Never again.”

“Never again.” He leaned up and kissed you languidly, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

He stayed kneeling on one knee between your legs, your skirts bunched up to your hips as he kissed you, his hands moving up your body back to your breasts. You gasped when his fingers curled around the neckline of your bodice, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast, skin burning.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the edge of the neckline. “Please.”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you practically begged him.

You felt his hands go to the ties at the back of your dress, and he deftly tugged them loose as he brought his mouth to yours again. You felt the fabric of your dress loosen before he retreated to pull the dress off from the front, moving it down your arms. You watched as Hunter rumpled the fabric and threw it to the side so it was out of the way.

You were glad the night was warm, now that you were only in your corset over your chemise and stockings. You watched the garment fall to the ground as Hunter let out a growl of frustration.

“Why are there so many layers? I need more of your skin on my mouth,” he grumbled. You giggled as he started to unlace your corset.

“What is it they say? Patience is a virtue?”

“I’ve never been virtuous and I’m not about to start now,” Hunter rasped as he opened your corset, your breasts falling to their natural position under your chemise as they were no longer held up by your stays. You let out a breath of comfort.

Hunter smiled ruefully. “Better? How tight did your maid tie you up?”

“Tighter than usual. I had someone to impress.”

Hunter grinned and kissed your breasts through the thin cotton, your nipples tightening and pointing through the fabric. “I’m always impressed by you.”

You smiled and kissed him once more before pulling away. “It hardly seems fair that I’m almost indecent while you’re basically fully dressed.

Hunter laughed heartily, a sound that made your chest squeeze. He kept smiling at you, still on one knee between your legs as he pulled off his coat, bunching it up and throwing it into a pile with your dress. He pulled off his cravat roughly and started to unbutton his waistcoat when your hands reached out to stop him.

“Let me,” you told him quietly and your fingers brushed his. You started undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, quiet between you. You felt his eyes on you as you unbuttoned and when you looked up to slide the garment off his shoulders, he was gazing at you with this look you couldn’t decipher. Perhaps it was adoration.

You threw the waistcoat on the pile and Hunter was only left in his shirt, breeches and his boots. You smiled as you ran a hand slowly down the neckline of his shirt, your fingers touching his sternum and the nest of dark curly hair there. You remember watching him train in this years ago, and now here you were.

You met his eyes and watched his eyes smile at you, softening at the sides as he started to untuck his shirt and unbutton it, his eyes never leaving your face.

You watched, mesmerised as Hunter shrugged the shirt off and revealed his bare chest. You took in a breath as you realised how muscular and broad he was. The tendons of his shoulders and collarbones were taut and strong, and his stomach flat except for the raised muscles in a six formation. His hair extended across the expanse of his chest and down into his breeches, but what surprised you the most was the port wine stain that appeared on his face also travelled down his torso, painting one side of his chest a beautiful burgundy across his brown skin. You traced your fingers across the outline and watched the way he shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting across his skin. He was sculpted by the Gods; Michaelangelo had surely modelled the statue of David from him.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, fingers trailing down his chest before you met his eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips.

Hunter’s eyes widened for a moment at your declaration before his lips twitched, like they itched to smile. He placed his hands on the sides of your thighs, the thin cotton a poor barrier for the heat of his hands as he rubbed circles into your skin.

“You think so?” he replied quietly, like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Yes,” you told him, your smile turning big. “Heavenly. That’s what you are.”

Hunter studied for face, his expression pensive before he spoke.

“I’ve heard people say this–” his fingers skimmed his face and down his chest, knocking yours, “–is the mark of the devil.”

You frowned. “Who said that?”

“People. When we were children. I…faced ridicule. And in turn, it marked my brothers. It got worse when Crosshair was born, and the stain across his eye became known. We were outcasts already, but this made it worse.”

Your heart broke thinking of Hunter as a child, facing ridicule for something he could not control, for something that made him unique. If he was protective over his family now, you could only imagine back then. What a silly superstition. How could anyone look at Hunter, see how he was with his family and with others, and think he was anything but an angel? No mark upon his face should dictate who he was.

You shook your head and pressed your hand against the centre of his chest, right above his heart. You felt it beat steadily under your palm, the rhythm matching yours. You met his eyes.

“They could not be more wrong,” you told him softly in earnest.

You felt his heartbeat speed up underneath your palm, making you smile. You watched an expression pass through his face. Was it relief? You felt his hands on your thighs squeeze before he captured the hand that lay on his chest between both of his and kissed your palm softly.

“That’s…very nice to hear.” You heard his voice break a little as he spoke, his mouth pulling into a sincere smile that conveyed so much love, you felt you might burst with it.

Hunter leaned in and captured your lips in his once more, this kiss slow and passionate as it told you without words the depth of his feelings for you. You pulled him closer as you deepened the kiss. You let him drape your arms around his neck, and he shifted so his hands grabbed your hips. He pulled away only for a moment, his lips murmuring into yours.

“‘M gonna switch us,” he mumbled. You only nodded, and a laugh rippled from you as Hunter hoisted your body against his. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he swiftly switched your places, so he sat on the bench and you straddled his lap. Hunter pulled you in so your centre was pressed against the ties of his breeches. It was a scandalous feeling that flowed through you as felt Hunter’s bulge against you. You gasped as he let out a strangled sound. You pulled back to look at him, a mix of an amused and tortured smile on his face as he looked up at you.

“Oh, I like this position,” you told him.

“Yeah? Me too,” he said and buried his head in your neck, kissing there as he pulled your body against his again, rocking you into the hardness of him through the cotton of your chemise. You moaned, feeling your folds slick again, despite only coming a mere five minutes ago.

“Hunter, I need you,” you told him.

Hunter groaned into your collarbone. “I need you too. I’m out of patience.”

You felt him shift his hold on you, so one hand held you at the small of your back and kept you from sliding off him, and the other quickly untied the fastenings of his breeches and shifted them down slightly. You slid a hand down between you, fingers knocking against his as you felt his cock spring up against his stomach. You gasped when your fingertips brushed his length, the skin hot and hard. He groaned and wrapped his hand around your wrist.

“Please.” His voice practically trembled.

You looked at him and watched the way his eyebrows had slanted down at the ends, his mouth parted. You slowly grazed your fingernails against his length and he jerked underneath you.

“Christ,” he panted.

You wrapped your hand around his length, the way you’d read about, and you heard him groan. Both his hands went to your back, clutching the gaping fabric of your chemise. The way he was reacting only made your stomach tighten and your folds flood with wetness. And you’d barely touched him.

You looked down between you and saw the head of his cock had pooled with precum already. You circled your thumb over the small slit there, coating it and Hunter hissed, head burying in your neck and teeth biting the meat of your shoulder. You moaned, heat running through you. The hilt of his cock was nestled with dark curls and you shifted your hand down and up. Hunter cried out, head falling back as he looked at you, eyes bleary.

“My love, I’m so worked up right now, I will not last if you keep doing that.”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “This?”

You moved your hand again the same way, squeezing a little this time, and Hunter’s eyes screwed shut as he yelped again, shifting your body closer to his. Your centre chaffed against your chemise which rubbed against his cock.

“Christ.” His neck strained before he reached up and smoothed a hand over your hair. “I need to be inside you.”

Nerves and excitement fluttered through you at his words. You had read about such things, of course, and had wanted so badly to experience sex with Hunter, but now being presented with the very situation you had dreamed of happening with Hunter filled you with uncertainty. You wanted this to go right, for him to enjoy himself with you.

“I need that too,” you told him.

“It…It might hurt a little at first,” he said, hand smoothing your hair again. “We’ll go slow. And you tell me to stop and I will.”

You smiled at his concern, his care. “I trust you.”

Hunter smiled at you and pulled you in for a lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Lift up for me, sweet girl.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and raised yourself on your knees, the stone bench beneath them digging in a little as butterflies swooped in your stomach. Hunter lifted you against him, hands under your thighs as he moved you both to the ground.

“Next time we do this, it will be in a bed,” he told you, his voice light with mild annoyance. You laughed as he lay you back against the pile of clothes you had created, a makeshift mattress out under the stars.

You looked at him as he leaned over you, body in between your legs, dark curls falling over his shoulders and hanging down. The lantern by the bench provided a warm orange glow, but the moon did most of the work, lighting up his hooked nose and gorgeous face. With the stars behind him, you placed his hair behind his ear with a smile, in awe of him.

“What is it?” he asked, mouth lifting into a smile. You felt the lines of his smile stretch under your hand on his cheek.

“I love you,” you told him simply because it explained everything.

He smiled, and you felt his skin heat before he bent to kiss you once more. He kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours before he pulled back. His eyes stayed on you, a soft reassuring expression as he bunched your chemise around your hips, spread your legs so you were completely open to him and positioned himself. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt him at your entrance.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asked, his voice as soft as his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath before nodding and biting your lip.

Hunter nodded and in a hushed voice, told you to try and relax as he slowly pushed in. He moaned, face screwed as he sunk himself inside you, hands tightening on your hips. Despite your slickness, the stretch caused some pain to bolt through you and you hissed, your hands curling around his forearms.

Hunter immediately stopped, eyes flying open as he looked down at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and took a breath. “Keep going.”

Hunter watched your expression as he slowly moved further in until he was fully seated inside you. You screwed your eyes shut, fingernails digging into his arms, and you felt one of his hands rub up and down your thighs as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. It was full feeling, but not overly uncomfortable. The books you’d read glossed over this part.

You felt embarrassed, waiting a moment for your body to be okay to keep going and opened your eyes as you rushed to say, “I’m sorry, I’m just–”

“Hush,” Hunter told you, silencing you gently, his expression soft. “We have all the time in the world.”

You let out a breath before he continued, mouth tipping up at the side. “Though the way you’re squeezing me…”

You grinned, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Good?”

“Incredible,” Hunter sighed.

You both laughed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hunter brushed some strands of hair back as he looked down at you and you felt yourself and your anxieties ease. He was so incredibly special.

You shifted underneath him as your body had grown used to him. “I think you can move now.”

“Nice and slow,” he confirmed with you.

Both you and Hunter made sounds of pleasure as he started to rock into you, pulling out a little before moving back in, the movement becoming more fluid and easy as he kept going. Hunter’s grip on your hips guided the movements, and you moaned as the nub of your folds bumped against him.

“Christ, you’re so pretty like this,” he told you as you moved your hips against him to match his thrusts. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

He bent to kiss you once more as he slid inside you again. His hips rolled into yours in easy languid motions, his cock moving in and out of you. You moaned, fingers clawing his back as he began to quicken his movements, thrusts now steady and hard as the pleasure built inside you. You stockinged legs coming up and sliding around his waist, one ankle pushing in at the small of his back to pull him in deeper.

Sex with Hunter was much better than anything you had ever read, better than your own fingers. His thrusts confident yet never painful, his hands firm but never hurting. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you was unbelievable, and you were so glad you were able to experience such a thing with him. That he survived the war, and your love for each other had endured. And now, under the stars, he took you in a way that showed all his love for you.

You’d both been patient for this, and he may have said he had never been virtuous, but the way he was making you feel right now felt religious; the feverent way he held you and loved you was almost sacramental, the angel he was.

Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened and you watched the way his need for you eclipsed his features. It was an expression you liked and wanted to see more of. His pupils blown, mouth parted, hair messy. It pleased you to know that you made him like that.

The only sounds that filled the night were both of your moans and groans and the slap of Hunter’s hips against the backs of your thighs. Hunter’s movements increased, as did the husky sound that came from the back of his throat with each one. Hunter’s grip moved to take your hands from his shoulders, pressing them next to your head as he laced your fingers together. Each thrust buried him inside you, the hilt of his cock brushing your nub enough that you felt the heat in you rising, coiling in your stomach. It was intoxicating, and you never wanted him to stop.

“I’m…I’m so close, my love,” Hunter panted, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow in the moonlight.

“As am I,” you told him breathlessly, hands squeezing his.

“Where?” he asked, and you felt him twitch inside you, on the cusp of it.

You were familiar with the question; your novels prepared you for this part. “Inside,” you told him without an ounce of hesitation.

Hunter groaned, his pacing stuttering. “Are you certain? It could–”

“Yes,” you cut him off. “Please. I know the risk and I am unbothered by it.”

Hunter’s face fell into your neck, groan vibrating against your skin, teeth nipping there gently. “Christ,” you heard him mumble. “You’ve ruined me.”

After several deep thrusts that you felt hit the furthest part of your core, he faltered and you heard him cry out as he stilled, and you felt him spill inside you. His hands tightened on yours, palms pressing together they may as well be fused.

You gasped, moaning as he shuddered above you, no longer able to hold his weight fully, he let himself drape his body on top of yours. Warmth pooled between your legs, and you rolled your hips against the hilt of his cock. Hunter hissed at the moment as he caught his breath, lifting his head to look at you with hooded eyes. Hunter stayed seated inside you as he slowly unlaced his hands from yours so he could shift off you slightly and lift himself up enough to slide a hand between your bodies.

“Your turn,” he told you before he slanted an open mouth kiss over your lips as his fingers brushed your nub, making you jerk and gasp into his mouth.

His fingers circled there slowly at first before they increased, rubbing with his fore and middle fingers which were coated in your slick. You felt the pleasure rising rapidly and you barely had time to say anything before you fell over the edge, that pleasure erupting from you as you cried out, mouth open under his and eyes shut. You shuddered and writhed underneath his body as he drew out your orgasm, legs trembling as you squeezed his length still inside you, making him moan into your mouth. The feeling was indescribable, more intense than your previous orgasm had been, and you clutched at his forearm and shoulder, wishing this feeling never came to an end.

You were completely his, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then his fingers slowed, and your body came down from its peak, limbs feeling like jelly. You opened your eyes to see his brown ones staring back at you, noses knocking as you both smiled, feeling each other lips stretch with your own.

Hunter placed one last kiss on your lips before he pulled back. You laughed lightly, too happy to fully conceal it. You pushed his hair back and bit your lip. Hunter smiled down at you, birthmark flushed, then bent to kiss your cheek.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Your face heated as he slowly slid out of you, the loss of him a dull ache as your body readjusted to the empty feeling. Hunter rose to his knees and tucked himself back into his breeches before reaching out to adjust your chemise, hands running down your stockings once he had. He smiled and shook his head at you.

“You should see how you look right now,” he said, a rueful expression painting his face.

Your hands flew to your cheeks, pressing your fingers against the hot skin. “Why?”

“You’re an angel,” he said, fumbling for his cravat to wipe you and his fingers with.

“No, you are,” you told him as the silk fabric slid across your folds.

Hunter laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Did I go too hard?”

“You were perfect,” you assured him, the soreness between your thighs a common symptom post-coitus, according to your books.

Hunter lay next to you and propped up on his elbow and you turned a little to face him, smile unable to leave your face. He smiled lovingly at you, and you at him. He opened his mouth when a deep baritone bellowed from somewhere outside the maze.

“Hunter! You better get back here! The Commodore’s looking for his daughter!” Wrecker’s voice carried over the hedges.

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. Hunter smiled and shook his head.

“We better go,” he said, sitting up then standing and holding a hand out to you.

“How long have we been gone?” You asked, taking his hand. Hunter pulled you up with such strength you fell forward into his arms, pressed against his chest. He caught you easily.

“Long enough,” he said. “Can’t keep him waiting.”

You looked up at him reassuringly when you saw his expression turn thoughtful, hands on his upper ams and circling the skin there with your thumbs. “He will be pleased.”

Hunter smiled at your words and you returned it before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll need your help to lace me up.”

Hunter’s smile turned into a grin, his teeth white in the moonlight. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are,” you told him placing your lips to his one last time before the secret of the two of you would be revealed, and your always with Hunter began.

this is the last part of falling for mr. batchbury, but please let me know if you would like to see more of the batchbury brothers...because these are a delight to write! otherwise, i have more fics coming so stay tuned! thank you for reading and supporting me!

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