Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1:shepardmoreau wanted Caryl - Write a mini fic for: "things you said under the stars and in the grass."
Bucolic
"Finally," she breathed, hazing the word like an exhale - a benediction - into his skin. Nosing close as she left open mouthed kisses down the tense line of his shoulders. Overstimulated already as the grass underneath him tickled down the line of his back. Crushed underneath them as she eased a pale leg over his thigh and scratched her nails teasingly down his scalp.
He let go of a gutted sound when her hand wormed under his shorts and curled - chilly-warm in that way women's hands usually are - around his cock. Stroking slowly as his eyes snapped open. Going pleasure blind for a handful of beats as his chin tipped towards the stars. Unsure of what to do with the low, vibrating rut noise that rumbled down the stretch of him. Turning her grin half-feral as she dragged her teeth over his nipple.
"Carol..." he rasped, stopping like forming a true sentence was completely beyond him. Leaving him saturated in his own melt as every inch of him slowly - impossibly - started to settle.
But she didn't mind.
After all, they'd gotten this far without him needing to say just the right words.
Why would this be any different?
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.
Reference:
- The title, "Bucolic" is a rare word meaning: "In a lovely rural setting."