Stretching out in her bed, Lauren rolled on her side to get more comfortable. That stuttering brown-noser Gregory showed up at the Sanctuary gates last night asking to speak to Simon – and therefore Negan. Lauren had never met Gregory before in person, but she heard plenty about him from Negan and the other top lieutenants. Many of them didn't seem to mind talking about business matters in front of the wives. They thought that they weren't listening. But Lauren always listened.
She knew that the other wives didn't, like Frankie and Tanya and Amber. They just weren't comfortable listening; they didn't want to know what the Saviors had to do to keep them skimming off the cream of the crop. Michaela just didn't care. But Lauren didn't mind hearing about it. It wasn't anything she was unfamiliar with.
So, when last night Gregory turned up, Lauren knew that there would be hell to pay. A few days back, Negan had come back from Alexandria steaming mad. There had been whispers of war. Lauren was smart enough to know that Gregory might just have some insider information, but she was still doubtful. From everything she's heard secondhand, Gregory was a spineless, doddering old fool.
But Negan was still willing to listen. That's why Lauren flopped around in her bed again. These past few days Negan had been busy planning, not having much time for them. The others were treating it like a vacation, but Lauren was a little lonely. Being a wife was about serving Negan's need or just doing what you want. All Lauren wanted was Negan. Without him there was nothing to do, and she had nothing.
Today he'd be in the meeting room, probably until dinner time. Lauren wasn't looking forward to it. Well, if he wasn't going to come around, she was going to take this as an opportunity to brood in her room in her least flattering pajamas. Negan had gotten them sexy nightgowns to wear, but Lauren wanted pants.
That explains why she was in baggy, gray sweatpants and a once-upon-a-time orange t-shirt that was more like a vomit color now. It had a hole underneath one armpit that stretched down to her waistline, but it was comfortable. Besides, it wasn't worth troubling any workers with meticulous washing the lacy things when something like this could be washed without gentle care.
Lauren had just switched over to lying on her stomach for the fourth or fifth time when there was a knock on her door. "Go away, Frankie. I don't want a pedicure!"
The door swung open anyway with a click, but it wasn't Frankie who spoke to her. "Well, shit. That's a damn shame. I was looking forward to maybe fucking your foot pussy tonight."
Heart in her throat, Lauren carefully rolled on her back, keeping the blankets on to cover up her embarrassing pajamas. "Negan, I'm sorry. I thought you had a meeting."
Swinging the ever-present Lucille up on his shoulder, Negan leaned his shoulder against the door-jam. "Oh, I sure fucking do. But I want you there with me."
Blinking, Lauren sat up, clutching the blankets to her chest. "Oh, um, so we can screw around?" she asked, a blush rising to her cheeks. Before being with Negan, Lauren had been practically untouched. That hadn't lasted long. He had introduced her to many things – so many deliciously naughty, dirty things – but exhibitionism hadn't been one. She assumed Negan would be too possessive for that considering his rules and all. But maybe she had been wrong.
Humming low in his throat, Negan smiled at her. "Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty to me, Lauren." Pushing himself off the door-jam, he waltzed into her room and sat on her bed, bouncing her on the squeaky mattress with the motion. "But no, my favorite wife. That's not exactly what I fucking had in mind." He placed his hand on her leg, and through the leather glove and blankets, Lauren felt the heat of his touch. "I want you in there so that I know I have someone firmly wedged in my fucking corner."
The wheels were turning in Lauren's brain now, even with Negan so distractingly close that she could smell his cologne. "You're worried about the other lieutenants."
"Bingo," Negan grunted, his hazel stare going flat.
"Particularly Simon," Lauren added, watching his reaction.
"Right in fucking one, favorite." Negan lifted his head. "I always knew you were a smart gal." He walked his fingers up her leg until she grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together. "There just had to be a fucking reason we found you up there in that bird school all by your fucking lonesome. Everyone else was in a goddamn grave but you, favorite. You're a fucking smart cookie." He gifted her with another one of his gorgeous smiles, and Lauren's heart slipped back down in place, contracting with happiness and pain.
Bending forward, Negan kissed the back of her hand, stubble tickled over her knuckles. "Hmm, you know you're my favorite, right, Lauren?"
Of course, she knew it. That was her nickname. Negan constantly liked to remind her of that, over and over again in many different ways. Still, every time he said it, it felt like the first. "Yes, I do, Negan." Lauren turned her hand over to she could catch his chin, scratching her blunt fingernails through his fresh dusting of stubble. She preferred this length because it felt the best, but he was drop dead gorgeous no matter what and he knew it.
Lucille was carefully placed aside, leaning against the bedframe. Then Negan crawled up Lauren's body, and she sat back against the wall, her bed lacking a headboard since they broke it together last time. "You're not just my fucking smart cookie," Negan growled, crowding into her space and stealing away her breath, "but you're my fucking sexy cookie and I think I'm in the mood for a taste."
"What, are you the Cookie Monster?" Lauren teased him, running her fingers up through his hair until she hooked her hands around the back of his neck. She pressed her forehead to his, the tips of their noses brushing together. It was intoxicating.
"I'm whatever the fuck you need me to be, my favorite." Negan caught her mouth in a kiss, and they took their time. Nice, slow, easy like a lazy morning lie in. It was almost as if Lauren woke up and just had to roll over to get this soft and sweet kind of attention from Negan. But he was always what she wanted.
Eventually, his hands started to wander, and he trailed the backs of his fingers down her arms until he reached where the blanket was starting to slip down. He quickened its progress, tugging it down to her lap. Negan slipped his mouth away from hers, kissing a line down her jaw until he reached her neck right below the ear. Lauren's eyes slipped shut and rolled to the back of her head with the mindless pleasure of it.
"Let's see what my favorite is wearing just for me, hmm?" Negan huffed in her ear.
At first, Lauren didn't even hear him. She just savored the warm caress of his breath that sent chills down her spine and sparked heat in her belly. Once her brain did process his words, though, she blushed and pulled back, once again nervously covering herself with the blankets. "Oh, you don't want to see that."
Pulling back just far enough so that he could see her face, Negan frowned. "What's the matter, Lauren? Not up to it today? Seemed to me like you fucking were."
"I'm just, not wearing any cute pajamas." Lauren bit her lip. "You don't wanna see me like this."
"When we picked you up," Negan reminded her, his voice stern but not unkind, "you were in the worse fucking shape of your life. Half fucking starved. Mean as hell. But I took you because that's the right fucking thing to do and because I saw a fucking beautiful as fuck badass. I got you healed the fuck up, some food in your belly," his hand slid over stomach, fisting the blanket in his hand, "and then I fucking proposed. You said yes. I want you here. So, I do want to fucking see you, all of you exactly as you fucking are."
Feeling a little silly, Lauren dropped her eyes and then the blanket. Negan took a moment to stare and then she felt fingertips on her bare skin, ticklish and soft. "Is this fucking hole so I can have easier access to your titties?"
Laughter erupted from her, and Negan surged forward so he could taste it from her lips. Lauren kicked the blanket off the bed, rolling with Negan until they were both on their sides. Once again, he kissed his way down her neck, pushing her t-shirt up so he could finally see her breasts. He had just sucked her nipple into her mouth when they were startled by a clattering sound. "Negan, what was that?"
Peeking over the side of the bed, they saw that Lucille had fallen over on her side. Lauren sucked in a breath, expecting Negan to freak. When she chanced a look at him, he looked thoughtful and a little morose, but not angry like she was expecting. "Maybe that's a sign we should get to your meeting instead of fooling around?"
His eyelashes fluttered as he looked up at her, hands still gripping her breasts and pushing them up, chin resting dangerously near her erect nipple. "Hmm, you're probably right, Lauren." In a pink flash, his tongue swept out and swirled around her nipple, causing her to sigh and arch into his touch. "To be con-fucking-tinued," he promised with a wink.
They disentangled themselves from each other slowly, leaving more than a few caresses in the wake of separation. Their movements were regretful, practically a drag. Finally, though, Negan climbed out of bed first and immediately scooped Lucille up from the ground to rest on his shoulder. "Get dressed, favorite. Time to go to work."
"Ah," Gregory started. "Well, I, uh I'd just like to start by saying thank you for having me here today."
From where she was seated on Negan's lap (there were no other seats and Negan liked the show of possessiveness), Lauren quickly scanned the other faces at the meeting. There were the lieutenants for the communities, and lesser lieutenants that were in charge of – or would be in charge of – outposts. Simon was seated close to Gregory since Gregory was his charge for the Hilltop.
Next to him was their newest addition: Eugene. Frankie, Tanya, and Amber seemed to like him fine. They said he was funny when they hung out with him that one night. Lauren wouldn't have known since she was busy with Negan. Still, he was an oddball (who has mullets anymore?), and he was from Alexandria. He was one to watch out for.
On the other side of the table were Gavin, Regina, and Dwight. Gavin had the Kingdom, and he was pretty levelheaded and otherwise not a threat to Negan's power. Regina wasn't a lieutenant that came around often since she was from an outpost that was pretty far out there. Some kind of mall. Dwight was the only one without a community. Alexandria was supposed to be his responsibility. Lauren didn't like him.
The other saviors were standing around, namely just Gary and Arat. Both of them were loyal and knew to keep their mouths shut. The rest of the lieutenants were at their outposts. So far, Lauren only felt like Gregory, Simon, Eugene, and Dwight were the ones to watch out for.
But Negan was making it a little hard to concentrate when she could feel him underneath her rear. He also had one hand resting on her leg, fiddling with the hemline of her dress. Heat pulsed between her legs distractingly, and Lauren fought the urge to shift back against him or make even a whimper. Her libido was still revved up from their unfinished business earlier, and Negan knew it. He was in a similar position, too, it seemed, judging by the hardness resting against her rear. She forced herself to turn her attention back to Gregory, who looked mildly uncomfortable at having to face her down while she sat on Negan's lap.
"Negan," Gregory continued in a voice that reeked of sycophancy, "let me lay this down straight for you." He pressed his hand to his chest over his heart, oozing sympathy. "I know how it is negotiating the slippery, steep terrain of managing resources and the population and the big, scary U." The man actually paused for dramatic effect, and Lauren wanted to groan. "But you might know, it's called the unknown."
Another pause, and they were all silent, staring him down unmoved. Lauren didn't have to look behind her to know that Negan was frowning. He made it absolutely clear how he despised Gregory. She couldn't blame him.
Losing confidence, Gregory began to stutter nervously. "Listen, I-I mean it when I say it – Negan, I don't like killing people any more than you do."
"I like killing people," Negan corrected him.
Lauren twitched. Having slept in Negan's bed, she knew of his nightmares. She saw him on the days where it really weighed him down, when he just couldn't put on that happy-face and the façade was too much to bear. This was that façade again, but Lauren knew better.
Gregory didn't. "Oh." He started to backtrack, "Well, I…"
Negan cut him off, "I say it's about killing the right people." Sitting forward until his chest was pressed against Lauren's back, Negan leaned towards Gregory and past Lauren until his scruff scrubbed over her bare shoulder. He further explained, "So, you kill the right people at the right time," his tongue clicked, mimicking Lucille, "everything falls into place. Everybody's happy."
He chuckled darkly at that. "Well, some people more than others. But you kill one, and you could be saving hundreds more." Then his tone lightened up. "And that is what we are all about."
Bouncing Lauren on his lap, Negan ducked to her ear and whispered solely to her, "Our fucking hokey-pokey," and she bit her lip to stifle her giggle. Leaning back against him, Lauren tried not to let it show how Negan's voice vibrating through her body was causing a well of arousal to spring up between her legs. She was sure she was blushing, but that couldn't be helped at this point. The lieutenants were used to this behavior by now. This was a show for Gregory.
To Gregory, Negan continued, "We save people."
Wide-eyes darted back and forth between Lauren and Negan. Lauren didn't like how his eyes kept straying to her cleavage. While that was the point of this dress's design, Lauren didn't enjoy how this man could be scared shitless and was still distracted by a pair of test. She could see now why she was here and what Negan was testing Gregory with. Clearly, the man was failing.
A tad too tardy in his response, Gregory rushed his words together. "That's – that's why you're called the, the Saviors." He repeated himself, "Oh."
The air was heavy with tension, and for Lauren and Negan it was a particularly thick, albeit, different kind of tension. The sexual energy between them was charged, and everything in Lauren wanted to hitch her dress up, pull her panties to the side, and slide back to ride Negan right here. But she couldn't. Wouldn't.
Suddenly, Dwight stood up, and all eyes turned to him. "Gonna grab a smoke," he explained, ducking his head though his posture was confident.
"Now?" Negan asked, "You don't want to hear this?" What was unspoken was how this was obviously going to be a big show of pissing all over Gregory, but it was implicitly understood.
"Don't need to," Dwight responded. Lauren tilted her head as she looked up at Dwight. "Tell me where to go and what to do, I'll make it happen."
She had to stop herself from snorting in his face in disbelief, but she couldn't stop herself from narrowing her eyes. Something about Dwight screamed 'rat' and Lauren didn't like it. Negan, on the other hand, didn't sense anything was wrong. He laughed softly and waved his hand in dismissal, turning back to the table, wrapping her arms around Lauren's middle as he casually grinded himself against her.
For a moment, Lauren's brain stopped working and the only thing she wanted was to rub him through their clothes until she could come. Well, she couldn't have that. Gently, she stood up and switched to Dwight's vacant chair, and Negan reluctantly let her go, but still kept his hand on her bare thigh. That was hidden under the table, and Lauren allowed it. In retaliation, she crossed her legs until her foot was brushing past Negan's knee to the inner thigh of the other leg. She saw him stiffen, but he quickly pushed past it. "Where were we, Gregory?"
Lauren pushed the toe of her high-heel further up his thigh. She knew how much Negan adored feet, though, she didn't understand why. Negan gasped but quickly recovered again. "Oh, that's right!" Nice recovery. "You were telling me that you like to kill people, and I was saying that I do…under the right circumstances."
"Well, this – this situation that we, we find ourselves in, this – this conflict!" Gregory sputtered, "I can stop it before it even gets started."
Curious, Negan cocked his head, and Lauren even spared Gregory a glance of interest.
Seeing he had their attention, Gregory's confidence came back. "I mean, here it is. I go to my people, and I, I tell them if, if you're joining with this, this misled crusade, you're no longer citizens of the Hilltop." He spread his hands.
"You're out on your asses," Simon helpfully supplied for him. Lauren shot her gaze to Simon, her lips pressing into a flat line. She liked Simon once upon a time for being a good man, but now she wasn't so sure. There were rumors about a slaughter Simon had decided on his own. Lauren didn't want to believe it was true, but it was looking more and more like it was.
Doubtful, Negan lobbed questions at Gregory. "You're still their guy? They still listen to you, Gregory? Can you exile people?"
Puffing out his chest, Gregory tapped his index finger on the table. "The Hilltop is my house. I'm still the guy." He sounded as though he were convincing himself. "I've always been the guy."
Both Negan and Lauren exchanged a look. She made a face. Negan turned back to Gregory. "Huh." Negan's tongue slid across his front teeth. "If you're still the guy, if, indeed, you have always been the guy, then why the hell didn't you know about the widow leading an army of your people straight up my ass in Alexandria?"
Averting his eyes to the tabletop, Gregory started to try to defend himself, but Negan wouldn't let him. "You know what I think, Gregory? I think you're playing both sides." Lauren agreed. Negan leaned forward, elbows on the table. His voice dropped low, angry and dangerous sounding. Lauren loved it. "I think you are a thin-dicked politician threading the needle with your thin, thin dick. Now, is listening to you the right way to go, or is it the right place and time for something else?"
It was a threat.
Gregory heard it.
"No, no," he said, almost begging. Absently, Lauren wondered if she peeked under the table if there would be a puddle of piss at Gregory's feet. "Not trying to do that." He insisted, "No, not – I was – wasn't aware of things until they were already in, in motion. N-no hesitation. Allegiance, right there, the whole thing. I just – I-I didn't know until I-I knew, you know?"
Once again, Simon dived in to save him. "Gregory, hey." He placed his hand on Gregory's arm in what could be a consoling gesture. Lauren raised her eyebrows. "I believe you. Now make Negan believe, huh? Hmm?" Simon removed his hand, and Gregory found the courage and the words to speak again.
Clearing his throat, Gregory started again, much more calmly this time. "The Hilltop is mine. I let a fox into my hen house." Lauren wrinkled her nose at the metaphor. "She and her people took advantage of my generous nature. I see that now, and I will fix it," he vowed seriously.
Simon jumped back in. "If we go in with a right stage picture," he drawled, "a thick and veiny show of force surrounding Gregory when he lays down the law, I think things go back to copacetic."
From where she sat, Lauren mulled that over. Simon wasn't usually a talker. In Negan's absence he was, as a right-hand man. But here, he was overstepping boundaries. A subtle dick joke? Some ridiculous vocabulary word? Was he trying to show competency as a new leader to the other lieutenants?
"If they don't," Simon continued smoothly, "we take a flyer on the place and kill everyone there."
In the middle of taking his sip of water, Gregory choked. Placatingly, Simon returned his hand to Gregory's arm. "Unfortunate play, but the other communities will get the message, and we achieve equilibrium." Lauren turned to Negan expectantly, and as soon as he saw her look, he tightened his grip on Lucille. "Plan A. Plan B."
Lucille slammed down on the metal table top with a loud bang. Everyone jumped except Lauren, who was expecting it. "People are a resource," Negan growled. He stood to his full height, and Lauren sat back in her chair to take him in. He was beautiful. "Money on the table."
The baseball bat cracked down on the table, punctuating his words.
"People!"
Slam.
"ARE!"
SLAM.
"THE FOUNDATION!"
SLAM.
"OF WHAT WE ARE BUILDING HERE!"
Rubbing her legs like a cricket, Lauren pressed her thighs together as she watched Negan in full force. As he abused the table top with Lucille, all Lauren could picture if that were her. She wanted to be the one slammed on the table top and mercilessly pounded until she gouged it with her fingernails. It was a delicious fantasy. She was having a hard time focusing on the severity of the situation, but focus she did.
Narrowing his eyes at Simon, Negan's voice dripped with icicles. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to? Are you confused about who we are? Are you confused about who is in charge?" The lack of curse words was not lost on Lauren or anyone else here. He was deadly serious. "Are we backsliding, Simon?" Negan reminded him. His smile was false, his voice breathless after being so rough. "Please, tell me we're not backsliding."
Dutifully, Simon repeated, "We're not backsliding." Lauren noted how he looked more frustrated than he did nervous. She didn't like that. It was to be a little afraid, but Simon wasn't letting that show. "This is a pronounced event and a fragile moment."
"Hell yes, it is." Sweeping his gaze across the table, Negan's fierce hazel eyes lingered on Lauren for a moment. Something like arousal flickered across his face, and he licked his lips. It was an unspoken promise: later. Then he turned back to the others. "We need to win it all. Plan A is taking Rick, the widow, and King Assface alive and making them dead in a very, very public and instructive way. We kill the right people in the wrongest way possible, and we make them all watch!"
From outside, there were four distinct and rhythmic gunshots. Additionally, there were the sound of walkers growling, growing frenzied. For Lauren, it was a bucket of cold water to her libido. Everyone stood, and Negan and Simon went to look out the grimy window.
"Should we get our people out there?" Simon asked, trying to be helpful. "Line 'em up, light 'em up?"
"No." Negan shook his head, and clenched his jaw. Lauren watched a vein tick on his forehead. "They got some sort of hillbilly armor. We'd just be wasting metal on metal." In a much more upbeat tone, Negan sing-songed, "And the RPG is stashed at the cache, so let's have ourselves a little chat."
Turning back to the rest, Negan said, "Simon, bring your new little friend. We may need him to say some words." The big test was here.
While Simon talked to Gregory, and Gary was given orders about back up shooters, Negan went to Lauren, cupping her face in his hands. "You and me, as soon as I fucking get back. I'm gonna fuck you, my favorite girl." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and as he drew back, Lauren stood on tiptoe and pressed a longer kiss to his mouth.
"Come back to me."
Not saying a word, Negan nodded and moved out the door, the other lieutenants following. "Well, shit," Lauren heard, "I'm sorry. I was in a meeting."
He didn't come back. The Sanctuary, unsurprisingly, fell into disarray without him. The lieutenants were holding committees – committees Lauren was barred from. Meanwhile, food and water were dangerously low, and the power had gone out ages ago. They were baking alive. Some of the wives saw this an opportunity to get away from Negan. Amber actually went to stay in Mark's room. But for Lauren, she didn't know what to do.
She told him to come back. He hadn't said anything. Why didn't he say anything? Lauren was trying to keep faith, but it was hard to do. It was only a matter of time before the workers would rise up and tear them apart. Lauren kept to the upper floors, wishing she had a weapon. No one would give her one.
Lauren had been sitting in her room when she heard the shouts. She stayed put. Maybe Negan really wasn't going to come back. Gunshots rang out, and Lauren didn't even acknowledge it. But then…she heard the whistle.
Like a dog, she ran to it. Flying down the stairs, she came to a crowded, dark hallway. Everyone was kneeling. Above them all stood Negan, coated in blood. Her heart stopped, but then, she knew what it was. Walker guts. Negan was in full form again, monologuing.
"I am guessing that a lot of you fine folks thought I was dead, chewed up, never to be crapped out again. Well, here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have Lucille, and my nutsack is made of steel!" He pronounced proudly, "I am not dying until I am damn good and ready."
From down the hallway, Negan's eyes met hers. They only had eyes for each other. She saw him smile, Lucille hanging limply for a moment. Lauren wanted to charge through the crowd into his arms, but she knew better. This was an important moment for the Sanctuary.
Negan continued, "Now, if you'll all excuse me, I am in deep need of a sandwich, a shower, and sex with my favorite. Hell, I might do it all at once. But after that, we have some serious business to attend to…like talking to my right-hand man." Lauren was sure, she saw Simon sink lower on his knee. "You see, we got to figure out how all this could've happened like it happened. And then, well, and then we're gonna get back to doing what we have always done. We will save people.'
Some woman in the crowd cried out, "Thank you, Negan. Thank God for you."
Of course, Negan smiled and whispered something to another blood covered man with him. Lauren just now noticed him, having only had eyes for him before. The man was dismissed, and then the workers milled around Negan as if he were a stone in a river. The Saviors nervously skirted around him, Simon especially, and Negan cut a path straight to Lauren.
For a heartbeat, there was silence between them. Lauren spoke first. "I told you to come back to me."
Negan loosely held up his arms. "And I did."
"Yeah, you did a real bang up job of that." Her hands were on her hips. "You're late. You had me worry. You made me think…"
He tutted at her. "Come on, Lauren. Let's go to my rooms so I can wash this gunk off. I have a fucking promise to keep to you."
In his rooms, Lauren waited for Negan to step out of the shower. His leather jacket had been distributed to a grateful worker to clean out. Once came back into the bedroom, Lauren was on her feet and dragging him to bed.
"Lie down," she told him.
He did as he was told, but he cocked his head at her. "So bossy. Where did this come from?"
His question went ignored and unanswered. Methodically, Lauren ran her hands over his bare skin. In the wake of her hands, Lauren pressed kissed. At first, Negan basked in the attention. Running his hands through her short hair, Negan allowed her to have her fill. Once she reached his chest, though, he noticed a tremor in her hands. Oh. Oh.
"Lauren, Lauren, look at me." He urged her up to eyelevel, and just like he suspected, there were tears dotted on her eyelashes. "Lauren, it's just like I said to those fuckers out there."
"I know what you said." She took a deep breath. "But that doesn't change how I feel."
Brushing his thumbs over her cheekbones, Negan hummed, "What do you feel, Lauren?"
"I love you."
That was forbidden. It was foolish. The man had multiple wives, and while she may be his favorite that didn't mean a damn thing.
But rather than throwing her out on her ass like she expected, Negan did the unexpected and kissed her. Lauren leaned into it gratefully, lost herself in the passion of it.
When they separated for air, Negan confessed, "I love you. I just didn't know it until I was stuck in that damn trailer with the fucking priest. I'm sure there's a fucking joke in there somewhere, but I damn well mean it, Lauren. The priest, he got a confession out of me."
Lauren's thumb skimmed over Negan's bottom lip before brushing over the silver lined stubble. "And the confession was that you love me?"
"No," Negan whispered, "the confession was about Lucille."
At the name, Lauren's eyes drifted to where Lucille was resting in her chair. It was like Lucille was watching them. Lauren knew who Lucille really was. One of Negan's nightmares got that secret out of him. Once he told Lauren the truth, he picked every other wife over her for at least a month until they talked it through again. It had taken them so long to work through Lucille. Lauren wanted to be rid of her, but she knew that they never could be.
Gently grabbing her chin, Negan forced Lauren to look back at him. "I realized that while what I did to Lucille was my biggest regret… she was not my biggest love." Holding her breath, Lauren didn't dare breathe. Negan pushed forward. "She may have been my first love, but you, Lauren. You're the fucking last. And you're my favorite love."
After that, there had been more kissing, and then talking, and then kissing again. Lauren explained the situation at the Sanctuary the best she could. Negan agreed that there was a rat and they needed to find it. It was on their second episode kissing that they both fell asleep in each other's arms. While Negan had been missing, Lauren hadn't slept well, and for Negan there was no real rest in that trailer. They both needed it, and ended up waking an hour later.
Hand in hand, they made their way to the meeting room that was empty. His Saviors figured he would be busy for a while. They were right. "You know, Lauren, I seem to remember promising you something."
Hopping up on the table top in front of Negan's chair, Lauren spread her legs, revealing a peep of her lacy underwear. "Hm, whatever could that be?"
Plopping down in his seat, Negan's gaze was riveted on what little of her underwear he could see. "You know I am fucking famished, Lauren. I never got that fucking sandwich."
Looking down at him softly, Lauren felt like this was the beginning of something – a true honeymoon? A real marriage? Threading her fingers through his still damp, jet black hair, she directed him down. "I think I've got something tasty for you, Negan."
Eager hands pushed up her dress and revealed the creamy expanse of thighs and black panties with a dark shadow of wetness down the slit. "Mmm mm, pussy. My fucking favorite." Skimming his hands up the outsides of her thick thighs, he hooked his fingers over the slides and reverently slid the down her smooth legs until they were dangling over her feet above the floor. "I'm gonna eat my fucking fill of you and then some, my favorite."
He paused. "Hm."
"What, what is it?"
"Favorite doesn't seem right anymore."
With a finger under his chin, Lauren tilted his head up. "What do you mean, Negan?"
"I mean that you being a favorite means there are others when there really isn't anyone fucking else." Negan hummed again. "I got it. I know what you are."
Expecting something dirty, Lauren raised her eyebrows at him and invited the challenge. "What am I? Your sex kitten?"
"No," Negan scoffed, and then amended, "well you can be at times." He smiled to soften the blow, but then continued. "But no, you're not my favorite anymore."
It was silly, but her heart spasmed. She tried not to let it show, but of course he saw. Comfortingly, Negan stroked his palms up and down her thighs, kneading the flesh. "You're my only, Lauren."
If her heart spasmed before, it outright stopped now. Leaning down, Lauren caught his mouth in a kiss, and she didn't know why it tasted different until she realized that she had started crying, and tears had caught between their lips.
"Shhh," Negan soothed, "No more tears, my only. Let me take the pain away. Let me fucking show you just how fucking much I love you." With gentle hands, he had her lean back again and then Negan lowered himself from his chair on his knees before her. His head buried itself between her thighs, and Lauren's brown eyes slipped shut as soon as his mouth touched her in an intimate kiss.
Twisting his head, he kissed her again and added tongue. A moan escaped Lauren's lips. His hands pushed her thighs open impossibly wider until it almost hurt and she was trembling. He repeated his kisses, turning his head this way and that every time. Even with all her moaning, Lauren still heard the slick, wet sounds of his tongue sliding between her folds and dipping inside of her. And then Negan wrapped his lips around her swollen, needy clit in a hard kiss, sucking hard; and Lauren dissolved as she came all over his face, soaking his short beard in proof of her orgasm.
Once she caught her breath, she opened her eyes. Negan was still kneeling there, staring up at her with dark hazel eyes. He was licking his lips, and that's all it took for Lauren to lean down for another kiss.
Kissing hungrily, Negan slowly stood, reluctant to part from Lauren's mouth again. He sat in his chair, pulling it closer to the table. Lauren was half bent over, nearly tipping face first off of the table in her eagerness to kiss him. Negan fixed the problem by grabbing her and tugging. She felt into his lap, legs already spread.
With an arm around her waist, Negan tugged her until she was pressed against him from stem to stern. Her panties had fallen to the floor, and her soaking wet pussy was pressed to the bulge of his pants. Not too overly sensitive, Lauren bucked her hips against him, humping at him while she devoured his mouth. Before Negan was aware of what she was doing, Lauren was coming again, all over him.
Opening his hazel eyes, he pulled back and watched her fall apart in front of him. A jealous sounding growl ripped through his lips. While she trembled in her aftershocks, her eyes glazed over with pleasure, Negan pulled his cock free from his pants. "Turn around," he ordered.
She was doing as he said before she even registered the command. Breathing heavily, she looked back over her shoulder at him, and Negan locked eyes with her. "Slide down on my dick, all the fucking way." Lauren nodded and slowly eased back. Her two orgasms had prepared her, but just like all the other times there was a twinge of pain as she stretched around him. It burned and tears sprung to her eyes again; she loved it all.
Grunting, Negan dug his fingertips into the meaty flesh of her hips. "You're gonna ride me 'til you come, Lauren." He bucked up and smacked his hips into her rear, watching it jiggle. "Hop to it."
Gritting her teeth, Lauren's head rolled back and she pushed and pulled, rocking her hips on him. His thick length dragged over her sensitive spots, drove her wild. She knew she wasn't going to be able to keep up having already come twice now. Already she was so tired, but she was so eager to please.
A smack on her rear had her jerking, and she nearly came on the spot but instead just edged herself further. "Negan!" She keened.
Another smack landed on her rear, this time on the other cheek. Negan watched his handprint on her ass bloom red. "Come on, Lauren. I want you to really fuck me. Fuck yourself on my dick."
Urged on by his encouragement, she lifted herself higher and bounced back down on him harder. Negan groaned his appreciation, leaning back in the chair to watch the ripples of her rear. "Oh, fuck, yes. There you go! There you fucking go."
The angle changed, and Lauren went from moaning to flat out keening again. "Oh, yes, right there, right there, right there," she chanted mindlessly. Her back hurt. Her knees ached. Her pelvis stung. Sweated dripped everywhere. But she felt so good, just like she always did when she was with him.
"Yeah, I knew you fucking love this. I fucking knew you were thinking about this when we were in that bullshit meeting. You were fucking dying to come on my fat dick. I bet you wouldn't even mind the fucking audience. You'd let them all fucking watch as I fuck your brains in and make you fucking come. Isn't that right, Lauren?"
"Just, one, more, one more." Five more jumps on his dick and Lauren was coming. She held herself still as she rode it out, her pussy clamping down on him hard, trying to milk him. With great difficulty, Negan staved off his orgasm, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tried not to blow his load.
Just as Lauren started to relax and sag back against Negan's chest, he was lifting her off his dick and pinning her to the blessedly cool table top. "Hands behind your back, my only." Her arms went limp, but she did as he said, and he grabbed her wrists, pinning her in place.
Rutting his dick between the cleft of her cheeks, Negan ran his dirty mouth again. "You want me to pound you right here until your impression is part of the fucking table? You want me to fuck you right here so that every time I hold a fucking meeting with me men I think about your pussy milking my dick?"
"Yesss," Lauren hissed, pushing her rear back into his touch. Even though she had come three times now, she still wanted more. She would never get enough of Negan.
"Absolutely filthy," he muttered thickly. Reaching down he lifted her rear and kicked her legs apart so he could once more slide into place. She fit better than a glove around him, and they both moaned happily at being reunited again. As he started to move, he started to talk again, growing more desperate to come as he went on.
"Yeah, you'd just fucking love it if I dragged you out during a meeting and fucked you on the table. That way everyone could fucking see that you're fucking mine, that you're a fucking slave to my fat dick. You're mine. Fucking mine. All fucking mine. Mine."
"Yours," Lauren echoed back, her voice a near croak by now from her exhausted vocal cords. "All yours. Only yours."
"Only mine. Only fucking mine," Negan repeated in that thick, gruff, low voice she loved so much. "My only."
Her dress was bunched up around her hips, revealing her spanked rear. The blunt head of his cock was hitting that spot again, his pants rubbing against the sensitive skin of her reddened ass. Lauren was coming. She yanked her hands free, slapping her palms against the table top and she dug fingers into the unforgiving surface, scratching at it and wishing it was Negan's back. Negan fucked her through it, prolonged it, wringing all the pleasure out of her. Lauren was crying by the time he finally pulled back, flopping in his seat again.
"Get down here," Negan panted, "and suck me off. I want you to swallow."
Slipping off the table on wobbly knees, Lauren turned back and grasped his cock. It was wet with her juices and smelled exactly like her as she bent her head forward to take him into her mouth. She didn't waste any time or tease him, choosing instead to wrap her lips around the head of his cock and suck hard. Instantly, his hands were in her short hair and he was pulling hard.
"That's it. Taste yourself on me. Lick me fucking clean and suck me fucking dry. Would you like it if I had you do that right in the middle of my fucking meeting? Nobody would see you under this damn table, but here you are, servicing my dick that you love so fucking much. Fuck, fuck, you're perfect. You're so fucking good at this. Ugh, I love you. Fuck. Fuck, I'm gonna come. Fuck."
Sliding her mouth further down his cock, Lauren caught his come on the back of her tongue. It was through practice that she kept her throat relaxed so she could breathe through it without gagging. When he was finished, she dutifully swallowed, making eye-contact as she did it.
"Mmm," Negan mumbled almost drowsily, "that was good." He helped her to stand, and smoothed her dress back down before he tucked himself away back in his pants again.
Lauren collapsed into a chair beside him. "Can you grab my panties from the floor?"
Bending over, Negan scooped them up before stashing them in his pocket. "I think I'll just keep these. They're a little too fucking dirty to put back on. Even for you, my only."
Drunk off of their sex. Lauren smiled a sleepy smile. "You should meet with your men soon. It's still going to stink like sex in here when you have your meeting."
"Maybe that was the fucking point, hm?" Negan suggested, "It can be their fucking punishment for doing such a shitty job while I was gone. Like that guy with the fucking sour grapes."
She knew what he meant. They took their times to breathe, both of them secretly enjoying the musky scent of their intermingled juices. Lauren's eyes flickered over to the table fondly. It was scratched to hell and back, but Lauren couldn't tell the difference between her scratches and Lucille. Perhaps that was for the best, considering the table's purpose.
"You know what, Lauren, my only?"
Dragging her eyes to him, Lauren hummed. "What, Negan?"
"Everyone else may have fucking sucked shit at their jobs while I was a-fucking-way, but you, my only." He smiled, and it stretched over his dimpled face. "I'd say you did a fucking bang up job."