Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing from The Walking Dead (comics or television show).
Author's Note: Prompt from TheWalkingCaryl. It's absolutely amazing how one sentence can inspire my longest one-shot yet!
Better Late Than Never
It was a chilly night, the kind where the cool mist clung to a body like a second skin. Fog snaked through the walled safe zone, surrounding the houses, all dark save for the big house in the middle where everybody gathered to celebrate the addition of the new survivors to the group. Drinks all around, food they'd almost forgotten had existed was being consumed at an alarming rate, as if things were the way they used to be. But starving on the road for months and eating nothing but worms and dogs and squirrels had that affect on a person. They were indulging tonight. Tomorrow would be different.
Everybody was having a pretty good time getting to know each other. There was a little apprehension on all sides, but a little social lubricant loosened most of them up.
Tonight, Daryl noticed, as he sipped at his fourth beer, Carol was opening up, enjoying herself as she mingled with their new friends. In the last couple of weeks, he'd watched her transform into some version of what she was before the prison fell, before she had to put a bullet through that little girl's head.
They'd finally sat down and had a good talk about everything. It had taken some prodding from him, but he'd finally gotten her to tell him everything that had happened with Tyreese and the girls, and when she'd finally broken down and told him, and he'd opened up about his feelings of failure for not saving Beth, they'd finally begun to heal. And she was actually smiling tonight. And laughing. Especially when a walking bicep named Dan leaned in close and said something apparently very hilarious.
Daryl smirked and took another swig of beer, watching as Carol fanned her hand in front of her face. The way she nursed her glass of wine, he knew she was feeling the effects of it, and the way Dan leaned toward her, well, he knew what Dan was thinking. Dan had former frat boy reliving his glory days written all over him. Fucker.
"Great party, right?" Glenn asked with a laugh, face red from his third shot of tequila.
"Great," Daryl muttered, eyes staring daggers into Danny Boy's back. Carol laughed—again—at something he said, her eyes twinkling, her nose doing that cute-as-hell crinkle. Glenn followed his gaze, and even in his drunken state, he could figure out exactly what Daryl was brooding about.
"Word to the wise," Glenn hollered over the loud chatter all around, "you better step up your game, bro."
"What game, bro?" Daryl scoffed, his jaw set about as tight as the knots in his stomach.
"What's up guys?" Tara asked with an inebriated laugh, pulling her arms around Glenn and giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"Dude, I'm married!" Glenn laughed. Tara rolled her eyes.
"Chillax, G-man, your wife knows I only go for the ladies." She swung her arm around Daryl's shoulders. "How's it hangin', Daryl?"
"Fuck off," Daryl muttered, shrugging her arm off of him. Tara snorted and nudged Glenn on the shoulder.
"Daryl's totally got the grumpy face going on. What happened?"
"Some bodybuilder's all up on Daryl's woman," Glenn snickered.
"The fuck you just say?" Daryl asked, stepping into Glenn's space and forcing the man to step backward.
"I'm your friend. Relax, Daryl. Just saying…it's not just us anymore. All these new people. And Carol's a beautiful, powerful woman. You know that. I know that. And somebody here's bound to be attracted to it. Like you are."
"Oh, shit," Tara gasped when she spotted Dan put his hand on Carol's shoulder. "You better step up your game, dude."
"That's exactly what I said!" Glenn spluttered, a look of shock on his face. They gave each other a clumsy high five.
"What the hell are you two yammerin' about?" Daryl asked, exasperated as he finished his beer and slung the empty bottle into a nearby trash can.
"He's putting on the charm. She's laughing. That's your woman."
"She ain't my nothin'," Daryl muttered, turning away.
"Then why do you look like you wanna put your fist through a wall?" Glenn asked, eyes wide.
"Or through Dan's head," Tara offered, laughing at her own hilariousness, leaning on Glenn so she wouldn't fall flat on her face when her knees began to give out. "Yep, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his vagina." Daryl glared at Tara as Glenn broke down into a fit of laughter. "Not…well, not your vagina. Obviously, you don't have one. The vagina meaning, well, Carol, and Dan being all up in her business being what pushes you to…ok, this isn't coming out right at all." She snickered and took another shot off of a random tray. Daryl sighed in frustration, watching Tara squeeze her eyes shut as the liquor went down her throat. She coughed and cleared her throat. "I'm just saying…sometimes it takes somebody else sniffing around what you want before you realize you want it." That wasn't making matters any better, and Daryl's glare was getting darker by the second. "I might be drunk, but I'm not wrong. Think about it." Daryl's face was red now, and he looked like he either wanted to hit somebody or cry.
"You should go," Glenn murmured, wedging himself between Tara and Daryl. "Just go and pull her away. Tell her you need to talk or…or something."
"She…she looks like she's alright over there," Daryl muttered, taking a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. He considered going for another beer to dull the ache in his chest that he couldn't quite place.
"You are such a guy," Tara groaned. "Dude, I realize you're you, so you don't see how you are with her, but you guys…you like gravitate toward each other. I mean, really. Where she goes, you go. Where you go, she goes." She waved her hands in the air for emphasis. "You're like married, you just don't know it. She clearly doesn't either. It's just so…argh!" Glenn laughed at Tara's theatrics, and Tara promptly stumbled into Daryl. He nudged her into Glenn.
"Make sure she gets back to her house ok. You're both a damn mess."
"Yeah, but at least I'm married. And Tara knows what she wants."
"Yeah," Tara hiccupped with a decisive nod. "I might not have anybody, but if I did, I wouldn't be afraid to tell her what I feel." Tara raised her brows at him, and then Glenn was leading her off. Daryl grumbled under his breath before turning back to watch Carol and her touchy friend, and his heart dropped when he realized they were gone. His pulse raced, and his head swam a little, and he pushed himself through the crowd toward the kitchen, where Michonne and Rick were talking a little too close together for friends, but it wasn't any of Daryl's business, so he just nodded at them and moved on out the back door.
"Fuck, where'd she go?" he muttered out loud as the cool night air hit him and made his skin prickle with goose bumps. Tara's words echoed through his head. He kicked at some gravel, and a spray of pebbles and dust flew up into the fog. It wasn't a matter of him realizing what he wanted. He knew what he wanted. It was a matter of him feeling it and her not finding out, because her finding out and not feeling the same way was probably the most mortifying thing he could think of. But was it possible? Did Carol gravitate toward him the way he apparently gravitated toward her? Wasn't that just the way it was? They stuck together. They had each other's backs. But…did she have feelings for him?
"God damn it," he muttered, spitting onto the porch steps as he looked around for any sign of her. And then he heard it. Her laugh. He knew that laugh apart from any others. He'd heard it so rarely in the past year, but he knew it.
He followed the sound around the house to the rose garden, where Carol was currently standing with the now empty wine glass in her hand as Dan stood next to her.
"Talk is that you blew up a gas tank and saved your whole group from a bunch of cannibals. That's...kind of hot."
"It wasn't so hot when I was walking around covered in walker blood and guts," Carol pointed out, as Dan reached out for her empty glass. "Thank you. These roses are beautiful."
"They don't compare to you," Dan replied with a big, cheesy smile.
Is this asshole for real? Daryl narrowed his eyes as he peered through the rose bush, and he could have sworn he saw Carol roll her eyes. That's my girl.
"The moon's pretty tonight," Carol murmured.
"I just put in this great picture window in my bedroom."
This son of a bitch don't quit, does it? Daryl couldn't hear what Carol said next, but when he ducked around to get a better glimpse, he saw Dan's hand on Carol's hip.
"Why don't you let me help you home? A lady shouldn't walk home alone on a night like this."
"I feel just fine, thank you. My roommate can walk me home." She stepped back to get away from his touch.
"Your roommate? Let me see." He squinted as if he was thinking really hard. "Oh, Dixon, right? That all he is? Your roommate?" Daryl watched Carol's face for a moment, the way she frowned and looked away, like she honestly didn't know how to answer the question. "Guess that means he's not your man."
"He's…Daryl," Carol said quietly.
The hell does that mean?
"What does that mean?" Dan asked. Thanks, Danny Boy.
"I really don't know you well enough to talk to you about that," Carol replied with a slightly amused smile. "Excuse me, Dan." She started toward the house, but Dan reached out to grab her arm.
"Wait a minute."
"Let go of me," she warned, tugging her arm to try to get out of his grasp, but he held on tighter.
"C'mon. It's a beautiful night. Why don't you just relax?" Carol instinctively reached for her knife, which was tucked away safely on her nightstand back at the house. She tensed up slightly and yanked back harder to no avail.
"Let me go!" she said louder, struggling as he pulled her closer.
"C'mon. You gotta have somebody to warm your bed at night. This Daryl isn't doing it, so why not me?"
"Dan, take your damned hand off me. Right. Now!" She tugged back hard and freed herself from him, and just as she was about to slap him in the face, a force in a button down blue shirt came running at him and knocked him to the ground. "Daryl!" Dan hit the ground with a grunt, and Daryl punched him in the jaw.
"Lady wants to be left alone, asshole!" he yelled, punching him again, this time in the nose.
"Daryl! Stop!" Carol put her hand on his shoulder, just as he pulled his arm back to hit the man again. "Stop! Just take me home." Daryl's back heaved as he crouched over the man who was now covering his nose as blood spurted from it.
"Jesus Christ, man, what's your problem?!" Dan yelled, scrambling to his feet after Daryl stood and moved away from him. He didn't wait for Daryl's response and took off down the street toward his own house.
"Daryl, what the hell was that?" Carol asked, putting her hand on his upper arm. He turned, his gaze focusing first on the hand that touched him and then at her face.
"That asshole was tryin' to force himself on you!"
"He's drunk. Believe me, he's no Ed. I had it under control," Carol huffed, crossing her arms across her chest.
"So you were ok with that? With how he was…was…"
"Was what, Daryl? Coming on to me? Asking me to go home with him?"
"The way he grabbed you and tried to…"
"Just how long have you been spying on me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him as the clouds stretched over the moon, darkening the night considerably.
"Just…fuck," he muttered. Carol couldn't hide the little smile that crept over her lips.
"Come on. Walk me home, Snoopy." He frowned at her newest pet name for him, but he made no hesitation to get her out on the road and heading off toward home.
He stuffed his hands deep into his pants pockets, and Carol eyed him as they walked home.
"What the hell was that?" she asked again, a little more softly.
"Dunno. Just saw the way that guy was touchin' you, and I didn't like it."
"Oh," she said softly, raising her eyebrows. She moved a little closer to him as they walked. "So you were…"
"Jesus, I don't know," he muttered. "Just didn't like it. He was all over ya, and I wanted to kill him."
"Daryl, were you…were you jealous?" She watched as he ducked his head a little, and she could have sworn she saw his cheeks turn red in the darkness. They turned up the sidewalk to the porch and headed up in silence. Daryl pulled the keys from his pocket and opened the door, stepping aside so Carol could walk through first.
She lit one of the oil lamps in the hall. He turned to close the door and lock the bolt, and when he turned around, she was right there, face to face with him, and he could smell the sweet honey smell from her shampoo. His mouth watered, and he pressed his back against the door. He wasn't sure if he had finally grown a pair or if it was the alcohol affecting him, but he reached out, his hand moving from her shoulder down her arm. His fingers gently moved over the spot on her arm where Dan had grabbed her. She stepped closer to him.
"You ok?" he asked, his voice low and rough.
"Yeah," she said, her eyes closing for a moment. She swayed just slightly. "A little dizzy." She licked her lips, he felt his heart begin to jackhammer against his ribcage. The sight of her wet, pink tongue sliding against her soft lips had flames ripping through his veins. He groaned softly, and her eyes opened. "What is this, Daryl? What is this?" She motioned between them.
"Your guess is as good as mine," he murmured, swallowing hard, feeling his mouth go dry. He broke out in a sweat, regretting that last beer. Alcohol always made him sweat, and the last thing Carol needed right now was a sweaty guy with a buzz tripping over himself as he tried to hide his budding erection from her.
He pulled himself away from the door and started for the stairs. And then Tara's words echoed through his head again.
Where she goes, you go. Where you go, she goes.
He turned to face her, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears, his hands slick with sweat.
"I was jealous." He watched Carol flinch, as if that was the last thing she ever expected him to say to her. "I just, I saw you with that guy. Didn't want to see you with him."
"What do you want?" Carol asked, coming toward him, her hands smoothing down the front of her shirt, tugging anxiously at the hem, pulling it between her fingers like a nervous habit. He watched the way her nipples pushed against the fabric of her shirt, and she saw him watching. Blood was surging through his body so fast his head began to swim again. "Daryl?" She stepped closer to him, bringing her hand to his cheek, her warm fingers caressing the stubble that peppered his jaw.
"I want…" His voice was strained as he fought against everything he'd ever been taught about talking about his feelings or emotions. He screwed his eyes shut tight for a moment, bowing his head. When he felt her move in closer, crossing into his space, he raised his head and opened his eyes to peer into hers.
"Tell me," she whispered, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room. Her mouth was a breath away from his, and his head was screaming at him to just man up already. Finally, he reached down inside of himself, pulling out the courage that had been hidden and scarred for too damned long. His eyes flickered with desire, and she gasped softly when she saw it. She bit her lip when his hands moved to her waist and he walked her backward toward the wall, his gaze never leaving hers. "Tell me what you want." Her hands rested on his ever so briefly before they slid up his arms and up his shoulders. He bent his head toward hers, his breath ghosting over her lips, and then he let go.
"You."
He felt her suck in a sharp breath before his lips were on hers, and he was pressing her against the wall, a little drunk from the beer, but mostly drunk on her. Her lips were even softer than he imagined, and she tasted like blackberries, which he assumed was from the wine.
Her kisses were tentative at first, as if she was trying not to push him, but when he his hands moved up her neck to cradle her face, she opened up to him, moaning when she felt his tongue slide past her lips. Kissing her was like lighting a match in a room filled with kerosene. All he could feel was her mouth against his and her hands stroking over his arms.
He was the first to break the kiss only to bury his face against her neck, inhale that intoxicating Carol smell that had driven him crazy for forever. She moaned, craning her neck when he nipped along the sensitive skin there, biting softly before soothing the area with his lips and tongue.
"Daryl," she murmured, tangling her fingers in his hair, holding him there as if asking him not to ever stop. And he grew bolder, nudging her legs apart with his knee, pressing his thigh between her legs, feeling her heat against him. Fuck, she wanted this. But the last thing he wanted was to be the second guy who got presumptuous with her that night.
"Carol," he breathed shakily, pulling back, gently running his thumb down her jaw. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she parted her lips to inhale sharply.
"Don't stop," she whispered, leaning in to try to kiss him again.
"You sure?" he asked, his voice low and thick, his eyes dark with need and passion. She took a shuddering breath before nodding, hands reaching for his belt. He put his hands around her wrists, gently pulling them back from his belt. Her eyes flickered up to his, and he leaned in to kiss her once again, slowly at first, but as her hands moved up his arms and over his shoulders, things began to spin out of control.
His hand moved down her waist before slipping up her shirt. His fingers ghosted over her warm skin, feeling the muscles of her stomach jump under his skin. She arched back against the wall as his hand moved up, cupping her breast through the fabric of her bra. The soft moan escaping her lips drove him wild. Carol brought her hands to the hem of her shirt and tugged, sliding it up and off of her, tossing it somewhere to the side. Daryl's lips were on her neck in an instant, and he kissed the valley between her breasts, his tongue teasing the skin there, making her whimper.
His body thrummed with desire as she reached behind her, unclasping her bra, her breasts bouncing gently as she tossed her bra aside. He took a step back, taking in the sight of her as her face flushed momentarily. She was reaching for his shirt now, fingers clumsy over buttons. Frustrated sighs mixed with whimpers of need filled the air as they struggled with it. Finally, Daryl had enough and just ripped the last of the buttons, and they clattered to the floor like a hail shower.
Her hands moved up his stomach and over his chest, feeling the smooth skin and the soft hair as she pushed against him, her breasts crushing against his, her nipples dragging against his skin, making him stumble backward. He wrapped an arm around her, walking backward toward the stairs now, and when he reached the first step, he went tumbling with Carol on top of him. With a pained grunt, he landed on his ass, but he kept his grip on her hips, not wanting her to leave.
She straddled his lap, placing kisses on his shoulders and his neck. He groaned when she dipped one hand between them, placing her hand firmly over the straining bulge in his pants.
"Fuck," he growled out, jerking his hips upward to grind against her. She moaned, throwing her head back as she touched her own breasts. The sight was incredible, something he'd fantasized about many nights over the last year, and now, now it was all happening in front of him. He felt like a damned kid at Christmas. "So beautiful."
"I need you," she groaned, running her hand down her stomach and dipping it inside of her jeans. Her mouth fell open, and he held onto her as she touched herself, and for a moment, he thought he might die from anticipation.
With all the strength he could muster, he picked her up and stood, his legs shaky and feeling like led, but he didn't care. He was getting upstairs if it killed him. He pulled one arm under her ass, and she got the idea, lifting up, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing him as he started up the stairs with her. She sighed against his lips when they reached the landing, and he pressed her into the wall, grinding against the heat between her legs.
"My room or yours?" she panted shakily before his tongue darted out to stroke her lower lip. He started toward her room. No question. Her bed was bigger, and there was no way he was gonna try to make their first time happen on a twin bed with a broken spring.
The door fell open easily when he pushed her against it, and he stumbled into the room. She brought her legs back down, walking herself back to the bed, hands fumbling on the button of her own pants as Daryl kicked off his boots. It was dark, but there was just enough moonlight to illuminate their path to the bed. Carol hit first, her legs buckling as they hit the bed. And then Daryl was crawling over her, pressing her against the mattress, straddling her leg, his thigh pressing against her center. She moaned, grinding her hips against his thigh as he took a nipple into his mouth, delicately circling it with his nipple. She cried out, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him there. Arching back, she pressed herself into him, and his released her breast with a soft pop before he tended to the other, his thumb brushing over the freshly damp peak.
Carol let go of him long enough to unzip her pants and pull them halfway down her hips. When she bucked her hips upward with urgency, Daryl kissed his way down her stomach with a boldness she'd never quite seen in him before. As his tongue dipped out to flick against her belly button, she felt the throbbing her between her legs intensify.
A whimper escaped her throat as he tugged at her pants, pulling them down her hips the rest of the way, sliding them down her legs. He slid off the bed, kneeling on the floor long enough to undo her boots and place them by the foot of the bed. She watched him, her eyes fluttering closed, her head falling back as she ran a calloused hand up her smooth calf and thigh.
The moonlight cast a beautiful glow against her shoulders, but it wasn't enough. He needed to see her. He'd waited too long.
Leaning forward, he gently pressed kisses to the inside of her thigh, and he felt her muscles jump and heard her take in a deep, sharp breath at his gentle touches. He looked up at her, barely making out the way she bit her lip as he inched closer to her.
He moved back, his body shivering from the distance he put between them as he shuffled over to the chest of drawers across from the bed. His fingers ran along the top in the darkness, seeking out the oil lamp, and when he nearly knocked it over, barely catching the glass flume before it could shatter to the floor in a thousand tiny pieces, he heard a small giggle come from the bed. He felt the heat rise in his neck and ears, but he quickly sought out the box of matches and lit one, igniting the wick of the lamp before placing the glass dome back on it.
His back was to her, his scars on full display, and he heard her shift on the bed, scooting back against the pillows. He turned to her, his stomach twisting into knots as he wondered if she'd flinch away from his marred skin. But all he saw when he looked at her was love and need and other things he wasn't used to seeing when people saw the secrets he carried on his back.
"Come to bed," she murmured, reaching her hand out to him. He swallowed hard, crossing the room and crawling over her on the bed, his hands warm against her belly and her hips before he tugged at the edge of her panties. Her hand moved over his broad shoulders and down his back, her fingers tickling his spine before grazing over his hips. The feel of her hands against his skin was better than he could ever imagine, and as he ran his hands down her sides, he felt a pang ache in his chest to see how frail she looked. But she was anything but frail. She was strong and passionate and everything many people wouldn't be after all of the hardships they'd endured. All the pain she'd been through—they'd been through—was finally becoming a part of the past, something that had only made them stronger, built them into what they were now.
His mouth was on her stomach now, kissing her, lingering over the imperfections that were a part of who she was, each and every one of them. She moaned softly when he finally edged the panties down her hips and she lifted her legs one at a time so he could slide them off of her. Exposed before him, lying under him on the bed, she felt a heat flush beneath every inch of her skin. The way he looked at her was like a man staring his truth in the face for the first time. He drank her in, and she reached for him, needing to feel him against her, needing to feel every bit of him loving her.
He shifted on the bed, moving to unbutton his pants, slipping them down his waist. He kept his eyes on her face, watching the way her gaze lowered down his chest, down to his hips, and as he shuffled out of his pants and tossed them to the floor, he watched the way her cheeks reddened as she took in the sight of him fully naked for the first time.
He felt his neck burning with the anxiety of being so exposed to her. After all they'd been through there were still parts of each other they hadn't known. And now…
"Hey," she whispered, reaching out for him, arching up to pull him down against her. "It's ok." Her hand slipped between them, and his hips jumped when he felt her warm fingers around his cock for the first time. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to completely lose it all in one embarrassing moment.
Her eyes were on his like hot, blue steel as she began to stroke him, and he reached out, gripping her shoulders as he tried to steady himself. He could feel his blood burning, and the sudden contact was a jumpstart to his nerves.
"Slow down," he grunted. "I'm gonna…" She let go of him as if her hand had been burned, but he eased her uncertainties with a soft kiss, backing her down against the pillows, lacing her fingers through his as he settled between her legs, hips against hips. She moaned into his mouth as she felt him pressing against her. She pushed against him, guiding him, letting him know what she wanted. He brushed his hand against her thigh gently before he caressed her, slick and hot, ready. She gasped when he began to stroke her, and her head slammed back against the pillow.
"Daryl, please," she begged as he pushed his fingers inside of her, feeling the strength of her muscles tighten around him. He was dizzy with desire now, and she began to kiss his way down her body, scooting down the bed, pushing his hips against the mattress, groaning at the ache in his cock as he pulled her legs over his shoulders. She cried out at the sudden contact of his flattened tongue against her center as he began to taste her. "Oh, God!" She gripped the sheets in her hands, and he looked up at her, watching as she looked down at him, her features ghosting back and forth between anxiety and need, and he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.
"Just relax."
"If you felt what I'm feeling you wouldn't say that," she panted, her breasts heaving as she propped herself up on her elbows in utter fascination as he dipped back down to taste her again. He chuckled when he felt the bed jostle as her arms gave out, and she collapsed back against the mattress as he circled her clit with his tongue, gently nipping the little bud with his teeth for good measure. "Fuck, Daryl!"
He chuckled, watching her every move, watching her hand grasp wildly for the headboard rails, watching her white knuckle them to hold on for dear life as he pushed his tongue into her center. She tasted better than any dessert he'd ever had in his life, and they were just getting started.
She cried out, and he pulled back a little, his lips coated with the warmth of her juices. He pressed another kiss to her thigh before he crawled back up her, watching her struggle to open her eyes.
"You..." she breathed. " You're…oh my God." And then she began to laugh. Not quite the reaction he was expecting.
"What?" he asked, a sleepy, buzzed grin spreading over his lips. "Somethin' funny?"
"If I knew you had those kind of skills, I would have taken you more seriously that first night at the prison." His brows knitted together, and she snickered, covering her mouth. "I'll go down first?" He chuckled in remembrance, and he crawled up, resting his head against her stomach for a moment. She gently ran her shaking fingers through his hair, and he shifted, his dick straining against the mattress.
"Shoulda taken you up on that whole screw around idea," he murmured, kissing her stomach, gently stroking her hips with his fingertips. She sighed softly, and he looked up at her, seeing the laughter fading from her eyes and her lips, seeing a love and desire fall into place, and he thought his heart might beat out of his chest when he felt her shift a bit impatiently.
"Better late than never?" she suggested with a grin that would forever be emblazoned in his mind. It was all the encouragement he needed to crawl out from under her legs and settle his hips back against hers.
"Don't have anything," he murmured quietly, his body tensing at the realization. Carol smiled a little, stroking his hair out of his face, and she stretched to reach the drawer on her nightstand. She rummaged through it for a moment before coming out with a little plastic square. She blushed, and Daryl couldn't help the amused grin that fell over his face.
"What?" she asked. "A lady has to be prepared for everything at the end of the world." She arched her neck and kissed his jaw. "Besides, when you suggested shacking up, I figured it might not be a bad idea to…you know, be prepared." Daryl snorted against her neck, and she gently dragged her nails down his back as he opened the packet and slid the condom over his dick.
She sighed softly as he settled his hips back down against hers, pressing at her entrance. He kissed her then, feeling brave as her arms tightened around his shoulders. His lips moved to her neck, and he heard the soft whimper escape her lips.
"Please," she urged, lifting her hips. He almost lost control as she rubbed herself down the length of him, her juices coating him. "Daryl. I want you." He pulled back, gently running a thumb over her rosy, swollen lips, smiling as she caught his thumb between her teeth. He was in awe of the way her perfect little breasts bounced as her breath caught in a shuddering fit as her limbs tightened around him.
He'd never done this before. Not with someone he cared about. Never with someone who cared about him as much as Carol did. When she smiled at him, tightening her legs around him just before he began to push into her, it was like his world fell out from under him, and they were left hanging on a precipice. It was either float or fall, and fuck, he'd fall anywhere for her.
He buried his face against her shoulder as he pushed home, and it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. She was tight and warm around him, and she was kissing his shoulder, biting out her cries, and she was moaning his name. It was almost too much, and he screwed his eyes shut, pausing his movements for a moment, trying to hold on.
"Daryl?" she panted, her nails digging into his back as he held still inside of her. Her walls tautened around him, and he groaned, his hips bucking slightly, and she gasped, gripping him tighter. Her hand moved up his neck and into his hair, and his forehead was damp against her neck. Her breathing slowed just a bit, and she stroked his damp hair. "It's ok," she breathed. "I'm here with you." He lifted his head slowly, looking into her eyes, that overwhelming feeling still there but not nearly as overpowering. He brushed his lips over hers, and then he began to thrust inside of her, slowly at first, but as he made love to her, she met his thrusts with equal measure, her hands tightening on his forearms as he braced himself against the mattress.
Her mouth was on his neck now, her tongue swirling against his Adam's apple, and he groaned, pushing into her, pulling back almost completely to slide home once more. The cries she moaned against his neck were almost enough to push him over the edge, and when her thighs tightened against his hips, his hands slid up her arms, pinning them back against the mattress. He looked down at her, watching a grin spread over her mouth, her eyes filling with a heated desire like nothing he'd ever seen before.
"Fuck," he grunted, as she clenched tightly around him, and he could have sworn she did it on purpose just to torture him.
"Harder," she panted. "Please." He pushed his hands against the mattress, anchoring himself as her heel ran down his calf, while she curled her fingers against the headboard rails, holding on for dear life. He kissed her once more before he thrust into her, his strokes faster, more immediate, his hip bones kissing hers as they moved together, a tangle of limbs and lips and teeth as they gave into urges they'd been suppressing for too damned long.
She bent her knees, taking him further, feeling herself stretch in ways she'd never thought possible. The heat between them was climbing, and she pressed her damp forehead against his shoulder, nipping at his skin, tasting the salt of his sweat as he focused every ounce of strength into making it last for her. But he was fighting a losing battle, because he could feel the fire building in his lower belly. It was only a matter of time, and when she cried out, clenching around him, he hushed her cries with a kiss, dipping his tongue into her mouth, bringing his hand to rest on her chest. His fingertips thrummed with the thundering of her heart.
He adjusted his angle, grabbing her hips and angling in such a way that she cried out hoarsely, her body collapsing sinuously as the swell of another orgasm hit her. Her soft moans were his complete undoing. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he came, bursts of white hot light beneath his lids dizzied him as he collapsed on top of her, feeling boneless and completely satisfied.
"God," he murmured, peppering the softest of kisses along her back as her hand sluggishly drew lazy strokes down his neck and spine. "I love you." It was the softest of whispers, but he'd meant every syllable. He barely had the strength left in him to lift his head and see the reaction on her face, but he was damned glad he did, because her eyes lit up like the stars and sparkled with tears.
She craned her neck up, capturing his lips with hers, stroking the side of his neck, feeling his pulse booming at her fingertips.
"I love you too," she whispered back before kissing his forehead. He nuzzled her neck, pressing soft kisses there again before he slowly pulled out of her.
He could feel her eyes on his back as he rolled over to dispose of the condom in the small trash basket next to the bed. There really was no romantic or un-awkward way to do such a thing, so he made it quick and then rolled back to face her, seeing the smile on her face and the blush in her cheeks.
Despite what they'd just experienced together, he felt his own neck and ears grow hot and tingly as she scooted in closer to him, gently hooking her ankle over his. Her breasts were flush against his chest as she trailed kisses along his shoulder and chest. He began to relax a little, stroking his hand over the curve of her hip, gently digging in from time to time, getting little giggles from her when it tickled.
They lay together, unable to take their hands off of one another, unwilling to break contact. All this time, all these feelings, and it had all finally reached a head. Carol couldn't help but giggle, burying her face against his chest.
"What's so funny?"
"I know it's terrible, but I keep seeing you punching him in the face. All because you couldn't figure out how to tell me how you felt." She laughed again. He snorted and buried his face in her hair, inhaling that intoxicating Carol scent that he was beginning to know as well as he knew himself. "I mean, it might be the most romantic thing anybody's ever done for me. And that's saying a lot." She kissed him again. "But if we're going to make friends here, we probably should learn to use our words."
"Pfft," he snorted. "It's overrated." She laughed at that.
"Maybe so, but we should try. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to throw punches to keep the Dans of this place away. You've got me."
"Yeah?" he asked. She smiled, that bright smile that made her nose do that cute little crinkle.
"Yeah. You've got me."
