Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I wanted smut, so here were are. You like it, so here you are. Fancy we meet again.
Warnings: sexual content, pwp, vaginal fingers, penetrative sex, adult language.
Howl for it (but remember my lover is a gentleman)
She'd never been an easy sell.
Even when he had her squirming across the sheets, she always made him work for it.
He had to play her right. Delicate and soft, but with just a hint of bite.
Hell, it was all but guaranteed to make her sing.
Practice made perfect and the thing about Carol was that she was always accommodating.
The first time he'd gotten her there she'd come surprised on just two calloused-wide fingers. Shocked like she figured she'd forgotten how as she panted up at the ceiling.
It was a sight he'd probably remember till the day he died. Her bare, pale and splayed out. A mess of freckled ivory and blue-veined brush strokes. The way one of her hands was clenched in the sheets and the other hovering in the curl of his shoulder. Barely there, but still undeniably present. More like a question than anything.
"You can put your hand in my hair next time," he'd rasped, hoarser than he thought he'd be as his dick throbbed insistently in his jeans. Still wrapped up in the musky scent of her as she tucked her chin to watch him. "Don't worry 'bout bein' gentle either. Ain't nothin' wrong with a bit of rough."
The stunted little jerk of her hips was more than gratifying.
Nowadays she was a greedy thing. Demanding.
He liked that.
A woman knowing what she wanted and exactly how she wanted it.
Who wasn't afraid to thread her fingers in his hair and tug.
She made him wait these days.
Prolonging the rush it until it felt like they were probably going to die from it.
Die with it.
Toppling head first into the great 'o nothing with smiles on and nothing much else.
She always came first.
In every way that mattered.
Whether it was on his fingers, his cock or his tongue, he made sure she was sphinx-eyed and satisfied before he chased for his own treasure. Figuring it was a special sort of treat when he could get her worked up again. Panting hotly into the sharp of his scruff the first time he bottomed out. Relishing the tight smoothness of her that never failed to welcome him back every time.
After all, what was it they said?
A gentleman was simply a patient wolf.
Authors Note #2: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. - This story is now complete.