Rick took slow steps down the hallway toward her voice. She was singing; he heard the familiar words through the door. He guessed that it was a lullaby, he knew she often put Judith to bed with that song. Rick stared at the door separating them, holding his fingertips against it.. Taking a deep breath, he almost believed he could smell her. Her skin, her hair, her sweat, the bathwater she sat in. He ached to open the door, to reach for the knob and simply turn it, erasing the distance between them. With his eyes closed, listening to every small noise from her, Rick remembered the last time he found her in the bath.
Rick flew into the house, his brain already formulating a plan. His son stood in the kitchen eating peanut butter from the jar.
"Where's Michonne?"
"Um, upstairs," Carl replied, pointing his spoon toward the ceiling, "Is everything cool?"
"Yeah" Rick moved toward the stairs, "there might be a way to get the guns."
"For the Trash People?" Carl asked.
Rick nodded and smiled at Carl's naming of Jadis' group, he wasn't entirely sure if Trash People had come from Carl after hearing about the junkyard or if Michonne had coined the term.
He headed upstairs and toward the sound of running water from the hallway bathroom. "Tara knows about a group," Rick said, pushing the door open.
"Are we not knocking anymore?" she quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I…," Rick paused, taking her in.
Michonne lay stretched out in the bathtub, her head resting against the tiles of the wall and the toes of one foot held under the water currently running from the faucet. Rick stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.
She sat up and reached to turn off the water. Rick watched, her skin, rising from the water, was wet and slick. Her nipples, now exposed to the cooler air, stiffened.
"I didn't mean to come barging in, I just…" Rick watched as she lay back. The vision of her body slightly distorted through the water. Seeing her there, Rick's mouth went dry. He longed to pull her from the water and lick every drop from her skin. To drink from her until he was no longer thirsty.
"And yet here you are, so what it is Grimes?" she teased.
"I know where there are more guns."
"Where?" Michonne's eyes lit up as she pulled herself from the tub, too focused on this piece of information to finish bathing.
Rick stared as water dripped off her, droplets ran from her locs, down her neck, between her breasts, over the smooth skin of her stomach, from her sex, her thighs. He knew anywhere he pressed his tongue she would be wet and sweet.
Rick swallowed hard and did his best to explain Tara's description of the group women by the ocean as Michonne dried herself. She was asking questions and adding bits of strategy to his plan, improving where he had left gaps. He was slow in answering her.
"Rick," she furrowed her brows at him, wondering at his hesitation, "this can work."
"Yeah it can."
"So why are you…?"
"It's you."
"Me? Rick, I can do this. We can do this."
Rick shook his head, smiling slowing, "I know that. It's not the idea of you out there. It's you, right now, standing here."
"What do you mean?"
"Michonne," his eyes wandered the length of her body, "you aren't wearing a goddamn thing."
She tilted her head at him, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "and this renders you slow and nearly mute?"
"Apparently."
She dropped the towel from her hand and moved toward him. He reached for her, longing to feel her skin.
"Wait," she said, grasping his hands, "I want to touch you."
Rick looked at her questioningly.
She smiled at his puzzlement, "I only want to touch you."
His confusion turned to understanding. She wanted him to keep his hands to himself, to keep his hands off her. He balled them into fists at the idea, his fingers itching to touch her.
"Are you gonna let me?"
It was the look in her eyes, something laid bare as she asked him. She wanted this. Rick gave the slightest nod of his head, unclenching his fists and taking a steadying breath.
She pulled his shirt from his jeans and unbuttoned it slowly, pushing it off him and onto the floor. Michonne brushed her hands over his, moving to trace the veins along his forearms, pressing her thumbs across the crease of his elbow. Rick shut his eyes, content in her touch. Her hands continued to wander, over his shoulders, along his collarbone, finally laying the tip of her right index finger against the scar near his heart. He felt her teeth sink into his skin. "Chonne," he hissed, her name slipping through his lips. She was marking him, again and again. He knew tomorrow his chest would be covered in bruises shaped like her mouth. She drew her fingers down his torso, slipping into the waistband of his jeans. Where her teeth had bitten, she now planted soft kisses on his skin. Undoing his belt, she pulled his pants down. Without underwear, he sprang free, heavy and ready for her. The tip of his cock grazing the soft skin of her hip. It was enough, that small sudden contact, to make Rick moan. Her fingers encircled him, hardening him further. With her thumb, she spread the evidence of his arousal down his length. Her tongue drew slow patterns across his chest as she stroked him.
Then she was gone. Her fingers and mouth no longer burning his skin. He watched her backing away until she rested against the counter opposite him.
"Do you want me?" she asked.
"Yes," he growled.
Her eyes drifted to his manhood, hard and dripping with need, "Show me."
Rick closed his eyes, taking in her meaning. He had never touched himself in front of another person. It was something to be done quickly, quietly without anyone knowing. Doing that here, now, with her, Rick could feel uncertainty creeping in.
"I love when you fuck me with your mouth."
Rick's eyes snapped open.
Michonne leaned back against the counter, legs spread, hand slowly wandering toward her center. Staring straight at him, she began to touch herself. "I love when you start slow, when all I can feel is your breath against me. Just that makes me so wet."
Rick rested against the door, doubt pushed from his mind by the sight of her, grabbing his cock, he began slowly moving his hand as he drowned in her words.
"I love when you lick me through my underwear. Not letting me actually feel you. When you start like that… sometimes when I finally feel your tongue on my skin it's enough to make me come. That's all it takes sometimes, you know."
Rick clenched his jaw, yes he did know.
"I love when you press your entire face between my legs. I love knowing you want me that much. I love hearing you eat me, tasting me, sucking on my skin."
Rick could see her sex glistening as her fingers moved in small circles between her thighs. He tightened his grip on his length, moving faster.
Her eyes never left his. She stared straight into him as she spoke. Her words were setting him on fire. Burning away everything else; she stripped him of everything but his desire for her.
"I love riding your face. I love pressing myself against your mouth. I love the way your tongue feels inside of me."
Michonne's breathing was growing more ragged.
Rick could feel himself nearing the edge. The sight of her pleasuring herself was becoming too much. He could hear how wet she was each time she pushed her fingers between her folds. God he loved that filthy sound. Rick's stroke quickened to something almost painful.
When she spoke next, it took everything from him.
"I love how after I come, you lick me clean."
He finally let go. Spilling his seed into his palm, so much it flowed through his hand and dripped from his fingers.
As his release came, Michonne's eyes finally shut.
"Rick, please," she pleaded.
That plea was her permission, to be touched, to be his, finally.
He stumbled forward, standing between her knees. His hand, still coated with his release, found its way between her legs. As he pushed two fingers deep inside of her, he was rewarded with a moan. Rick grabbed her waist with his bandaged hand and lifted her up onto the counter. He spread her legs wider, watching as his seed dripped off the hand pressed into her sex. As he buried his fingers deep within her, he kept his thumb drawing insistent circles against her clit. His lips began to trace the lines of her body. His tongue explored her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breast, finally sweeping across her already rigid nipple. He took it in his mouth and felt her tighten around his fingers. She was so close. He loved to watch her come undone. When a whimper escaped her lips, Rick released her nipple and commanded, "Come for me baby, right now."
When she recovered enough to open her eyes and look up at him, Rick finally withdrew his hand from her, his fingers coated in both their fluids. He held her gaze as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked their mingled release from his hand.
"Mmm," Ricked hummed, relishing they way they tasted together.
Seeing his enjoyment, Michonne smiled.
Rick held that image of her smile in his mind, savoring it. Standing in the hallway now listening to Michonne bathe, Rick knew the space between that moment and this one was infinite. He straightened up and let his hand fall from the door. Turning, he made his way to the bedroom and soundlessly shut the door behind him.