A/N: Oldie but a goody. This is based off of the scene from 7x12 where Michonne is knocked out asleep after the candlelight dinner.
Her hips swiveled seductively hugging every inch of his thick length. Her tender parts swollen from being abused repeatedly within the past couple days in the best way possible. The salty tears that streaked her cheeks were beginning to fade.
He had confessed that he loved her, crumbling any doubts she had about still being here after the world went away. It was not a mistake. She was meant to be here. She had endured great loss, but this was exactly where she was meant to be.
Their movements from their makeshift dinner table to the cool gym mat were hazy, but all that mattered in that moment was the blood rushing through their veins. His large hands slid across her lower back and waist as he matched her languid rhythm from under the weight of her silky thighs. Her head swiveled lazily to her smooth shoulder, her locs falling gracefully across her neck, a few strays lying atop her bosom. Her hands clutched his chest as her eyes sought respite in the back of her head, rolling open to gaze at him through lowered lashes.
"Say it again," she moaned, her teeth scraping past her voluptuous lips as her fingers slid to the silky curls playing at the nape of his neck.
His cloudy blue eyes turned deeper than the ocean, intoxicated by the ebony goddess writhing in his lap. "I love you Michonne," the words spilled from him, drenched in a love-drunk stupor. Her mouth sprung into a wide grin. She leaned down to capture his lips, something she would never grow tired of. Rick's strong arms wrapped around her, swaddling her in his welcomed the warm tongue that dove deeply into his mouth.
This was it. Rick had always thought talk of a love of a lifetime was nonsense, until now. The past couple of weeks he had reflected on their shaky route to friendship, then to best friends, then lovers. When he first met her, he was firm in his belief that she was not to be trusted, and now she was the person he trusted most in the world. He would die for this woman, and she had proved on more than one occasion that she would for him; although, he would never let that happen. Michonne was the love of his life, he was not going to let her go, his arms wrapping tighter around her back affirmed that notion.
Their bodies continued to glide against one another, them both unconcerned with their impending list of tasks as they took their time exploring their newfound euphoria. Rick's baritone droned professions of love into her ear as she began to tighten around him. Just like her doubts, her walls were crumbling down, both emotional and physical.
The aftermath of her climax lulled her into deep slumber right upon Rick's chest. As good as his felt, he knew sleep would not come for him; therefore, he admired her, twirling and fondling with the locs that covered her angelic face.