So, this is what happens when I get writer's block on While It Lasts. Enjoy and let me know what you think!
I do not own Daryl or Merle Dixon, or any other characters you may recognise from AMC's The Walking Dead. The original characters and plotline are my own creation. Please respect that. Also, this fic is rated M for a reason.
The ceiling was a strange off-white colour that he had become disturbingly familiar with over the years. Cobwebs hung from the corners where the walls met and, somehow, there was a dark, smudged boot-print stamped right next to the light fixture that had been there so long he was sure it must've come with the house.
His blue eyes were unfocused as he watched the dusty blades of the creaky old ceiling fan spin slowly above his head, the tennis ball he tossed up at intervals weaving between them and always finding it's way back into his outstretched hand as he lay flat on his back on top of his ripped and dirty comforter on the single bed he had slept in for as long as he could remember.
There was a sudden crashing sound from somewhere else in the house, the unexpected disturbance making him flinch almost imperceptibly. Holding his breath, he silently counted up to five, the inevitable raised voices floating through into his bedroom right on cue.
Yelling. There was always yelling. He didn't remember when it had started. It had simply just always been. Ever since he was a child, his memories were full of loud voices, angry tones and ugly, hurtful words. No one in the Dixon household had ever had anything nice to say to one another.
Sighing to himself, he tossed the old tennis ball into the air one last time, allowing it to fall to the floor and roll away under his bed as he pulled himself into a sitting position on top of it, bare feet brushing the threadbare carpet as he swung his legs over the edge and stood up, crossing the room and kicking his door shut with a scowl, muffling the voices coming from the kitchen.
Glancing around his room, he couldn't help but roll his eyes before dropping to his knees to retrieve the ball from under his bed, ready to resume the activity that he had managed to occupy himself with for the past hour or so. There was nothing else to do anyway. His fingers scrabbled around blindly on the floor, landing on a pair of old shoes, a discarded lighter and what felt like a well-used dirty magazine before landing once more on bare carpet, the ball he sought eluding his grasp.
He drew his hand back the way it had come, hovering for a second as his fingertips brushed the glossy front of the magazine once more. He considered it for a moment, but quickly dimissed the thought, withdrawing his hand from under the bed and sitting back against the wall under his window. Sixteen year old boy he may be, but even he knew there was a time and a place as far as rubbing one out was concerned and he knew that, even if he was in the mood, there was no way he'd be able to achieve a hard-on with all the yelling just down the hall.
He pushed himself up off the floor, hissing in pain when the top of his head connected with his windowsill with a resounding crack. Cursing, he placed a foot flat against the wall and used it to push his body away from it completely before making a second attempt. When he finally managed to get upright, he turned and glanced out the window, rubbing the sore spot near his crown.
The house next door stood in stark contrast to his own. Even from the outside, he could tell that it was clean. The lawns were well-tended, while the grass out the front of his place was well over a foot tall and still growing, the path that led to the front door completely obscured beneath it. The neighbours had just last week put a fresh coat of paint over the house, while the Dixon residence probably hadn't seen a paintbrush since the day it had been built, the drab white coat now gradually peeling away to reveal the bare wood beneath.
A flash of blonde hair from over the fence pulled him abruptly from his thoughts as his blue eyes followed the movement. He knew what it was. He'd seen it before. In fact, he'd sometimes spent hours in front of his window, just watching that blonde mop flit back and forth across the yard, smiling in spite of himself when the feminine laugh of it's owner followed.
He'd seen her at school. How could anyone not? She stood out from a crowd, though he could tell it wasn't on purpose. She just had a certain air about her. He didn't know a whole lot about her. Only that she was in the grade above him, and immensely popular. Pretty, polite, smart. Everything he wasn't. Her family had moved to town when he was a freshman and she a sophomore. His father had been chasing tail a few towns over at the time, and it had been on one of the rare occassions that Merle was home from the juvenile detention facilities he frequented.
The two boys had watched from their front porch as the family moved in next door. They looked thoroughly white-bread. Mom, Dad and three blonde haired, blue eyed daughters, all dressed immaculately in neat summer dresses with their hair loose around their shoulders. Their father had shot a distrusting look at their new neighbours, muttering something in an undertone to his wife. The oldest daughter seemed to have caught the exchange, for her gaze flickered in the Dixon brothers' direction, her head cocked to one side as she surveyed the pair with interest as she slowly approached the fence that separated the two properties.
Daryl had nudged his brother, who had stopped paying attention at some point, and gestured with his head over to where the girl stood, her dainty hands grasping the palings of the picket fence between them, her expression one of polite interest in the dishevelled boys on the porch. Merle saw her, and his face split into a lecherous grin as he stood up.
"Merle, what the hell are ya doin'?" Daryl demanded in a loud whisper.
"Hey there, darlin'!" his older brother called out, ignoring the question posed to him. "You see somethin' you like, you just come on over any time! Ol' Merle'll show ya some southern hospitality!"
He then grabbed lewdly at his crotch and made an obscene face at the young girl, who looked mortified as she glanced away from the older Dixon and over at Daryl, who's face had flushed three different shades of red as he shot her an apologetic look.
"Danielle!"
The girl had spun around abruptly as she heard her father's voice, finding the man standing by the front door, shooting a furious glare at Merle, who simply chuckled and flipped the older man the bird as he sat back down beside his brother and lit a cigarette.
"Come into the house!" the clean-cut man called out to his daughter.
She spared one last look at the house next door, averting her eyes from Merle as she turned away, sending Daryl a small smile and a wave as she alighted the steps onto her front porch and disappeared inside.
Daryl had returned the wave, much to his brother's amusement, though she never saw it. And he had watched her from afar ever since. Now, two years later, he continued to watch as she paraded into her backyard with one of her younger sisters in tow, both clad only in miniscule bikinis as they spread towels on the grass, laying out under the hot Georgia sun to soak it up, blue eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses.
Although he knew he shouldn't be watching, he found he couldn't help but note how she had filled out since her arrival in town. At seventeen, she already had a comely hourglass figure. Her breasts were a topic that was highly discussed amongst the boys from school. Some said that her father had paid for implants, as they had seemingly sprung up out of nowhere over the course of one summer. Daryl, of course, knew this to be false as he had spent that particular summer watching them develop from his window, although he would never tell any of the guys that.
His attention was claimed again by the back door opening at the house next door, the girls' mother stepping out to join her daughters in the yard, handing her oldest a tall glass of lemonade and gesturing to the younger one to follow her inside. Danielle waved her mother and sister off before settling back onto her towel with her drink, and Daryl watched as the front door opened and the two women and another younger girl piled into the family car, backing out of the drive and heading away down the street.
His eyes swiveled to the back yard once more, and his heart almost stopped when he saw her sitting up on her towel, sunglasses pushed up on top of her head and her eyes trained directly on his window. Busted was the only word that came to mind.
He watched as her full lips quirked into half a smile, one slender eyebrow rising up her forehead. Her smile continued to grow until he was dazzled by perfect white teeth, and she raised a hand, beckoning him to her with her index finger.
He hesitated a moment before pushing his window up and throwing a leg over the sill, climbing out and allowing himself to drop to the grass beneath him. He landed heavily on his feet and tentatively walked up to lean on the fence.
If it was possible, her smile widened even more.
"Jump over, dumbass." she quipped glibly, pulling her shades back down over brilliant blue eyes.
Daryl flushed.
"Ain't your daddy home?" he choked out, not remembering having seen the man leaving with the rest of the family.
She chuckled and shook her head.
"He's in Atlanta for a week." she informed him. "Business. Mama's takin' Janey to cheer practise and then her and Liza are goin' for ice cream. They'll be a couple hours at least."
Satisfied with that, Daryl vaulted the fence easily, though his landing was not quite so graceful this time. He lost his footing and rolled onto his back, ending up a few feet from where she sat, watching him with an amused expression.
"You okay?" she asked, suppressing a giggle.
Still on his back, he glanced over at her and gave a cocky smile which, it seemed, was all the answer she needed. She laughed and took a sip of her lemonade.
"You're funny." she told him fondly. "It's Daryl, right?"
He nodded, finally pulling himself into a sitting position across from her, trying to keep his eyes on her face as he remembered the very brief purple bikini she was dressed in.
"I've seen you around." she continued. "At school and stuff. My friends say you're the quiet type. That true?"
Daryl merely stared at her, his eyebrow cocked as he tried to comprehend that he might be the topic of schoolyard discussions between a bunch of girls that had never given him the time of day.
"I'll take that as a yes." she chuckled when he took too long to answer her.
"I talk." he defended quietly. "Just... don't see the point if I ain't got nothin' to say."
She watched him carefully and nodded.
"Ya mustn't have a lot to say, then." she observed. "Come to think of it, in two years this is the first time I've heard you open your mouth."
He gave a nod of his own in reply and absently tore at a few blades of grass while she continued to watch him thoughtfully. He squirmed a little under her gaze, feeling for all the world like she was looking straight through him to whatever damaged and broken soul lay beneath his skin.
"You call me over here for a reason?" he demanded finally, annoyed at the fact that she was getting one up on him.
She laughed and reached under the towel beneath her, pulling out the crumpled packet of Newports she'd had stashed there, extracting one for herself and offering him the pack. He shot her an amused look, one eyebrow cocked as he smirked at her and extracted a cigarette for himself.
"Daddy know about this?" he asked, patting himself down for a lighter.
He started as a flame sparked to life in front of his face, and he allowed his blue eyes to focus in on the Zippo lighter she held up for him. As he leaned into the flame, feeling the heat singe the scruff growing on his chin, he cast an eye over her bathing suit, wondering where the hell she'd managed to stash the lighter in such a small amount of material.
They both smoked in silence for a moment before she addressed him again, cerulean eyes appraising him from top to toe as she exhaled a stream of smoke through her nostrils.
"You wanna come inside?" she asked, her sweet southern twang dropping in volume, the teasing tone she had used earlier completely vanished.
His eyes narrowed as he considered her, wondering why the hell this girl whom he had never spoken two words to before today would be inviting the likes of him into her home. What ulterior motive could she possibly have? The thought occurred to him that it was possible she was just another spoiled princess looking to piss daddy off, but he dismissed it just a quickly as it had surfaced. If making her father mad was her aim, she wouldn't have waited so long to talk to him, and she wouldn't have made any efforts to hide her small rebellions (such as the packet of smokes now lying on the grass between them) from him.
The confidence suddenly flitted out of her features, a blush rising in her cheeks as the uncertainty crept up on her.
"Um... I mean... You don't have to." she backpedalled quickly. "Just... Just thought we might be a little more comfortable. It's hot out here."
He watched her silently for another fraction of a second before his lips parted.
"Okay." he whispered, barely choking the word out.
Different expressions passed over her face in quick succession; panic, surprise, brief excitement and a flash of doubt. Finally, satisfaction settled in, and she gave him a close-mouthed smile as she pulled herself up from the grass, gathering her towel in one arm and extending her free hand down to help him up.
He took a moment to snatch her cigarettes up off the ground before entwining his fingers with hers, allowing her to pull him to his feet. He followed behind her up the steps to the back porch, trying desperately not to watch the way her ass moved under the purple bikini bottoms that covered it. He suddenly found his mouth quite dry.
She opened the screen door and held it for him, gesturing him into the house ahead of her. When he stepped in, the first thought that occured to him was that he had been right; it was clean. Immaculate, in fact. He didn't have too much time to look around, however, as she quickly grasped his hand again and pulled him up the carpeted staircase and led him down the hall at the top into what he assumed must be her bedroom.
He stepped through the door ahead of her and glanced around. Posters of various boybands he had never heard of littered her walls, as well as a life-sized poster of a Girls Just Wanna Have Fun era Cyndi Lauper. The double bed was covered in a plain white comforter, both pillows fluffed and sitting neatly at the head.
He heard the click of the door shutting, and she cleared her throat. He turned to find her standing nervously in front of the door, blue eyes fixed on the ground like she was suddenly unsure of herself, and Daryl had a brief moment of internal panic. Had he done something to make her uncomfortable? Was he looking at her possessions with too critical an eye? His doubt was quickly assuaged when she glanced up at him and a shy smile flitted across her face as she tucked a blonde wave behind her ear and took a step towards him.
He shifted on his feet and looked around when he felt her hand alight on his shoulder. What the hell was she doing? His body stiffened when he felt her mold herself to him, her thigh bumping his crotch and sending a zing up into his spine. Two sets of blue eyes snapped together, and she blushed. He bit his lip and gave a nervous chuckle, bringing one hand up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. She caught him by the elbow and moved his arm back down, running her hand down his forearm and pressing his hand to her waist.
"Wh-what are you doin'?" he stuttered, the tips of his ears reddening.
She giggled as she ran both hands up his torso before resting one on the back of his neck and wrapping the other arm around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Just relax." she breathed as she pulled his head down closer to hers, the distance between them closing rapidly until he felt soft glossy lips pressing against his own thin, chapped ones. He stiffened again, though in a different way, and quickly made an effort to pull his hips back from where they rested against hers lest she feel the effect she was having on him and throw him out of her house in disgust.
He felt a smile quirk her lips as she hummed against his, and she pressed her pelvis forward into him again as her tongue swept out across his bottom lip. He desperately searched his memories for the few times a girl had actually let him kiss her before, trying to remember what the hell he was supposed to do in this situation. But then he felt her breasts graze him through his shirt, and a strange moist heat against his jeans as she ground into him, and his mind went oddly blank. He felt her insistent tongue again, and his lips parted without him telling them to, allowing her entrance to his mouth.
His tongue moved tentatively with hers, and he could instantly tell she had a lot more experience with this than he did. Without breaking their kiss, she pressed herself even closer to him and began forcing his steps backwards until he felt the back of his knees connect with her mattress, sending them both tumbling gracelessly onto the bed. The jolt of their landing broke the contact between them, and he found himself gazing into her eyes as she lay on top of him, her bottom lip snagged between dazzlingly white teeth.
He exhaled a shakey breath he hadn't realised he had been holding in as his hands unconsciously found her hips. She slowly sat up on top of him, moving so that she straddled his lap. He shuddered when he felt her brush his now raging erection, eliciting a girlish giggle from her as he trailed his fingers up and down her sides, the tips of them gentling brushing against the flimsy material of the underside of her bikini top. On the next upstroke she caught him by both wrists and moved his hands up further to cup her over her bathing suit, and his breath caught in his throat.
Although he would never have admitted it to his big brother, Daryl Dixon had never been to second base before. In fact, he'd only ever kissed a handful of girls (maybe three), and none of them had ever been on top of him at any point during. But now here was Danielle, sitting astride him and letting him cop a feel like it was the most natural thing in the world. He continued to watch her through wide eyes as she reached behind her and slowly untied the string around her back, allowing the bikini top to hang loosely from her neck.
Without thinking about it, he moved his hands up further and grabbed the material, glancing at her face briefly and recieving a nod before he pulled it apprehensively over her head. Her upper half was now bare before him, and it was nothing like anything he'd ever seen in the magazines he stole from Merle. Her breasts were pale and soft, each of them a perfect handful, he noted as he cupped them reverently and brushed calloused thumbs over her dusty peach coloured nipples, making her shiver.
He withdrew his hands as quickly as if he had been burned, sure that he had done something wrong. He glanced up at her, his concerns written clear as day on his face, and she laughed.
"It's okay." she assured him. "It was a good shiver."
A good shiver? Who the hell ever heard of a good shiver? He dismissed his thoughts, however, and returned to his task. He had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but if it meant he could keep touching those pale, perfect tits, he wasn't about to complain. Emboldened by her assurances that he was doing okay, he cupped her and squeezed, and she squirmed on top of him and made a strange mewling sound, like that of a contented cat. He guessed that was the sound girls were supposed to make when you touched them like this though, because she didn't stop him.
After a few silent moments of him worshipping the first pair of boobs he had ever seen up close and in personal and her sitting on top of him, thoroughly enjoying his ministrations, she spoke.
"Can I kiss you again?"
He glanced up into her eyes, surprised at the way she quickly averted her gaze and twirled a blonde strand nervously around her finger, and nodded. She smiled and leaned forwards, pressing her lips to his again, her breasts still firmly encased in his large, rough hands. He felt her fingers trail down his sides as she sighed into his mouth and, though he didn't know what possessed him to do it, his hands left the two globes of perfect flesh attached to the front of her and trailed around and down to the ones at the back.
She broke the kiss and gasped, involuntariy grinding her hips down into his at the new contact, drawing a ragged moan from him. He squeezed her ass firmly, delivering a light slap to the left cheek, wondering where the hell this sudden confidence had come from. She didn't seem to mind, though, as she sat upright on top of him once more and shot him an impish smirk, her hands finding his chest, her fingernails digging into him through his shirt and she dragged her hands down his front, popping buttons as she went.
If her taking off his shirt hadn't made him nervous enough, his heart almost stopped altogether when she reached the bottom of the ratty garment and her fingers hooked into the waistband of his jeans. She must have heard his sharp intake of air, for she paused and looked up at him.
"Is this okay?" she asked, her eyes begging for him to say yes.
He surveyed her silently for a fraction of a second and nodded, and she immediately flicked his belt open, followed by the button and zipper that he was currently straining against. Though his face gave nothing away, inside his heart was pounding ruthlessly against his chest. No girl had ever seen him in this stage of undress. Hell, no girl had ever seen him in any stage of undress. None of them had ever wanted to. And now he was flat on his back underneath a girl he had spent the last two years silently lusting over, and she was actually taking his pants off for him!
He raised his hips off the mattress, allowing her to slide his jeans down his thighs and over his knees. When they pooled at his ankles, he kicked them off altogether, his erection now painfully obvious under the thin grey cotton of his boxer shorts. He sat up and shucke his shirt from around his shoulders before grabbing her and pulling her back to him, the feeling of her bare breasts grazing the fine hairs on his chest almost too much for him to bear.
He felt her fingers slip beneath his boxers, and a feathlight touch to the head of his cock. He gasped and involutarily bucked his hips up. She grinned at him and touched him again, firmer this time. Her hand closed around his length, and she gave a light squeeze, and Daryl almost lost his fucking mind. No one but himself had ever touched him like this before, although this feeling was completely different to the one he got alone in his bed late at night.
The pair shifted their bodies so that they were laying side by side, facing one another to make the angle less awkward for her as she began to pump her fist up and down his shaft. His breathing became heavy and laboured, his blue eyes squeezed shut as he groaned under her touch. She watched him carefully, liking the effect she was so obviously having on his senses.
He allowed her to continue until he thought he might explode all over her hand.
"Stop!" he breathed pleadingly.
She did as he said immediately and glanced at his face. His eyes were still squeezed shut and he was biting his bottom lip, his chest heaving.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked nervously.
At this, he cracked one eye open and looked over at her, shaking his head.
"I was gonna..." he trailed off, suddenly embarrassed again.
"Oh." she said with an understanding smile.
They were silent again for a moment, and Daryl was slowly regaining his senses when, quite suddenly, she rolled them over so she was on top of him again. Straddling his knees, she pulled his boxers down off his hips, his cock springing out, jutting proudly and bending up towards his stomach. He was a big boy, she noted, although she had got that from having him in her hand. Long, and fairly wide. He seemed to have stopped breathing again, so she glanced back at his face.
He was watching her apprehensively, as though he was waiting for her to tell him she'd seen better. She gave him a smile and leaned up to press a reassuring kiss on his lips before falling back onto her ass on the bed between his legs. She wriggled out of her bikini bottoms and climbed back on top of him, straddling his hips once more as his eyes found the thatch of fine blonde curls at the apex of her thighs. He could feel the heat she was emitting on the tip of his turgid cock.
She placed her hands flat on his chest and gave him a coy smirk as she began to lower herself onto him. He felt his head slip through her slick folds and gave a strange strangled whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. He hurriedly grabbed her hips, stilling her and lifting her so he slipped out of her.
"What's the matter?" she asked, confused.
Shit, Daryl thought. He hadn't intended to make her feel as though she had done something wrong.
"Nothin'." he assured her quickly with a fervent shake of his head. "It's... I just... I mean, I ain't never..."
She watched him trail off, his cheeks flaming as he averted his eyes from hers, looking at anything else in the room.
"You're a virgin!?" she exclaimed somewhat disbelievingly.
His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and he gave a stilted nod, still not looking at her.
"Shit." she breathed, climbing off him quickly. "Sorry, I... I didn't realise. I just thought... Look, we don't have to if you don't wanna."
She fell onto her back beside him, blowing her hair off her face and the two of them lay in an awkward silence, neither knowing what to say to make the situation less weird. She sighed and rolled towards him, not saying anything as she rested her head on his shoulder, making his body tense. They were both still naked and he was still achingly hard.
What the hell was he even doing here? When she had called him over from his bedroom window, he hadn't imagined even for a second that she had it in her head to take him up to her room and fuck him. Hell, he'd been dreaming of this since he was fourteen years old. So what the fuck was he doing just laying here like an asshole?
"Hey." he croaked, finding his voice.
She glanced over at him, eyebrow cocked curiously.
"Look..." he continued after a moment. "I... I do want this. I just..."
"You're nervous?" she finished for him, propping herself up on one elbow.
He was, but he would never admit it out loud, so he figured a simple nod would suffice. She gave him a sympathetic smile.
"So was I my first time." she told him. "It's okay, y'know. I ain't gonna be gradin' you or nothin'. And it feels really good. Sex, I mean."
He considered it for a moment. They were both here, they were both naked and they were both more than willing, so why the hell not? He glanced over at her, his eyes meeting her anxious expression.
"So what d'you say?" she asked tentatively.
He nodded slowly.
"Okay."
With a grin, she rolled back on top of him, her small hands finding his wrists and pinning them to the bed either side of his head as she leaned down to kiss him. This time, rather than following her in some tentative tongue play, he took her mouth over completely, kissing her back fiercely as he bucked his hips up into her, feeling her wet heat on the velvety skin of his cock.
He swallowed her moans as she ground into him, releasing his hands to roam her body. His left hand cupped one of her breasts while his right found it's way around to rest on her ass, which he gripped firmly. Finally, after a few hot, sweaty minutes, the kiss was broken and she sat up straight on top of him once more, hovering over his dick.
She reached beneath herself and gripped it in one hand, giving it a few deft strokes.
"You ready?" she asked, watching his face carefully for any signs of apprehension.
His breathing was laboured from the way she was handling his cock, and the part of his brain that enabled speech seemed to have temporarily shut down, so he gave her an enthusiastic nod. That seemed to be all she needed, for she immediately began to lower herself onto him for a second time, her blue eyes never leaving his. The head of his erection slipped past her outer folds and then she was sinking further and further down onto him until he had bottomed out and her backside was resting on his thighs.
When he felt himself fully inside of her, Daryl almost came right then and there. She seemed to sense his distress, for she didn't start moving straightaway, instead just watching and waiting for him to give the okay. Finally, after he had his breathing somewhat under control, he nodded and grabbed her hips. She grinned and rested her palms on his chest as she rolled her hips experimentally against his.
He groaned and bucked, his fingernails digging into her soft flesh.
"Was that okay?" she asked with a giggle as she stilled on top of him again, already knowing the answer.
He bit his lip and nodded, silently begging for her to keep moving. She took pity on him and began to roll and writhe on top of him in a steady rhythm, starting out long and slow, getting progessively faster and leaning back to force him deeper. Her cheeks were pink and she was covered from head to toe in a thin sheen of sweat, her breathing short and erratic and she came closer and closer to the edge.
"Ohhhh!" she moaned as she continued to ride him into oblivion, him only just hanging onto his own orgasm, begging to be released. His mama had always said Dixon men were stubborn, and it was doing him a world of good right now as he refused to allow himself to finish before her. He wanted this to go on forever!
"Jesus, Daryl!" she cried, her fingernails digging in and leaving welts on his chest, a sharp gasp escaping him as she nicked his nipple. "I'm gonna come!"
He didn't know what to say to that one, so he tightened his grip on her hips, and the two of them fell into the rhythm of Danielle going up and Daryl pulling her back down onto him with bruising force. The amazing feeling of her tightness fitting snug around his cock suddenly increased tenfold as he felt her muscles flutter, and she howled above him.
The vice-like grip her pussy suddenly had on him threatened to milk him of all he had, but he focused every bot of willpower he still possessed at this stage in the game and forced his finish back, watching with intense lust in his eyes as she came apart above him. If he had thought she was pretty before, she was downright fucking gorgeous when she came; her eyes rolled back, her mouth making a perfect 'o' as she threw her head back and moaned his name at the ceiling.
He gave a self satisfied grin. Yeah, that's right, he thought. Daryl, baby. This was all me.
She rode her orgasm out on top of him and then collapsed onto his chest, sweatslicked, exhausted and gasping for air. Unsure of exactly what he was supposed to do, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a light kiss to her temple.
"Oh, god!" she gasped, her breathing still laboured. "Jesus, that was amazing!Did... Did you...?"
Daryl caught her drift and shook his head.
"Nope." he replied simply. "Didn't wanna."
She looked up at him, confused.
"Huh?"
He blushed under her scrutiny.
"Uh... Just meant... I mean... Jesus, I wanna-"
"You wanna be on top?" she asked, sudden understanding washing over her.
He nodded and she gave her best seductive smile.
"Okay." she whispered lowly in his ear.
The pair shifted and rolled until Daryl found himself positioned between her thighs on his knees, her most intimate parts spread in front of him.
"Go on, then." she urged, looking up at him pleadingly.
He bit his lip nervously and nodded, fisting his cock in one hand and leaning over her slowly, guiding himself into her. When he slid through her, she gasped and sitffened momentarily but relaxed just as fast, spreading her legs wider and wrapping them around his waist.
"Just like this." she told him softly, using her long, tanned legs to guide him into something of a rhythm. Each time, she plunged him in deep and hard before helping him pull out a short way so he could go at her again. He soon fell into the pace she had set and she relaxed the grip her thighs had around his waist, falling limply back into the mattress and just enjoying. He may be a wrong-side-of-the-tracks redneck, but it seemed Daryl Dixon was builtfor fucking.
She moaned and gasped and writhed with his every stroke, meeting his short thrusts easily with her own as she bucked beneath him. It wasn't long before Daryl felt the familiar tingle low in his spine spread into his rapidly tightening balls.
"Oh fuck." he breathed into the crook of her neck, sinking his teeth in lightly as the pleasure began to zap through him.
"You close?" she asked, her voice whiny and raspy from all the moaning and groaning.
"Uh-huh." he nodded, picking up speed and going harder than before.
"Mmm, come on, baby." Danielle cooed beneath him, trailing kisses down his neck and jawline with featherlight touches of her lips.
Her words did it. Her words and movements and the way she felt clamped tight around his cock, her juices sluicing down both their thighs. Whether it was one, all or a combination of the above, he didn't know. The only thing he knew in this particular moment was that he'd certainly never come so hard in his life.
He was sure she must have felt the force with which his seed spilled into her, coating her insides completely as he plowed on through the feeling, his head spinning from the rapid release of endorphins and sudden lack of oxygen to his brain. Each thrust was sloppier and more jerky than the last, and he slowed until, finally, he stilled altogether, still inside of her.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was both of them gasping for air as Daryl slowly pulled his softening length out of her, feeling a strange sense of pride when a thin line of sticky white liquid leaked out of her and onto her pristine comforter.
"You alright?" she asked as he rolled over to lay beside her.
"Uh-huh." he assured her, tucking his hands behind his head as she shuffled into his side.
"D'you mind if I...?"
He glanced down at her. He had always imagined that, when he finally did have sex, he wouldn't be much of a cuddler but, faced with her looking up at him like that, he found that he didn't really hate the idea. But, not wanting to say so out loud, he simply shrugged.
"Go ahead if ya gotta." he said non-commitally, and she snuggled in. "Your mama ain't gonna be burstin' in anytime soon, is she?"
Danielle glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand and shook her head.
"Not 'til five." she assured him, resting her head back on his chest.
Daryl unconsciously removed one hand from behind his head and wrapped that arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
So that was sex, he thought. Just as good as (if not better than) he had always imagined. Or was it just her? He didn't know. Didn't care. All he knew was that, if she'd let him, he'd be spending a lot more time next door.