Rick's eyes closed and a lazy "Ffffuuuck" dropped off of his tongue and fell into Michonne's parted lips. The smile she had vanished and she wrinkled her face, inhaling sharply at the feeling of him reclaiming the hot, sopping canal that would lead them both to paradise.
Rick was true to his word. He set out at a very timid pace, barely putting any weight on her. He was feeding her like a newborn kitten off the tip of his finger. The morsels were delicious but it only made her greedy for more and Michonne had never been a kitten. She was a tigress and his empty thrusts were no more than a mockery of what Michonne was used to getting from him. She made allowance for him, though. It had been a while since he'd enjoyed her as well. Must be doing his best version of that Keith Sweat song- trying to 'make it last forever', She hummed the tune in her head, smiling up at him.
And she was enjoying it...
until she wasn't. So she decided to give him a little encouragement.
"Rick?" She called his name flatly. "Baby, what are you doing?"
"Michonne." He stopped her before she started, "This is what you're get'n. I'm not risk'n it."
Michonne jerked her head back into the pillow a little jolted by his authoritative tone and, damn him, even more turned on. She ignored his declaration, grabbed him by the hips, chuckling and pulling him to her center.
"Uh unh, 'Chonne. Stop." Rick warned her and stiffened his muscles to resist her. He raised her arms over her head and pinned them down, holding her delicate wrists together in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Rick, but..." She purred glibly, snapping up to bite at him when he brought his face close to hers "...you're gonna... have... to... FUCK... me."
Now he smirked. "Tha's what you want?" The beckoning sound of her voice, the clean smell of her skin, the peachy taste of her mouth, the narcotic feel of her form beneath him- she was doing a number on him. A serious number.
"That's what I said." Michonne taunted him and lifted her hips pressing her pelvis against his.
"Alright." Rick rasped at her, flashing his teeth like a predator in moonlight. "I will."
He slipped his arms under her hips, raising her knees and feet in the air on either side of himself. He passively dipped inside her, and when she opened her mouth for another slick remark, he shut her up- filling her sunken place with long marble inches. He shook her entire body, repeatedly drilling into her core with the motion of an oil derrick, driving her into the mattress.
"Yessssss…" She hissed. But after a few of those beastly strokes, her tune changed, "Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!" Each prayer louder than the one before.
Rick put his hand, covered with brave scratches and scars, over her mouth. "The babies." He reminded her, the steam from his tongue tickling her ear. But Rick was showing off, advancing the bullish head of his dick against her surging wet walls, rolling his torso and winding the small of his back. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, leaving him red all across his brawny upper body.
Michonne grew silent, though her mouth went wide. Acting on reflex, her fingers traveled up his neck, yanking his silken mane. "Tha's right." He growled through the discomfort, knowing exactly where she was heading... and a split second later, Rick felt the crushing proof of her pleasure spilling out, dousing her glorious ass and his balls with her thin opalescent syrup.
"Satisfied?" He asked her, smugly, as she smoothed his damp hair off his forehead.
"Very." Michonne answered in a short exhale, still catching her breath, eyes barely open and drunk off her orgasm.
"Nah, swee'heart." Rick corrected her. "Said you wanted me to fuck you. Right?" He licked his lips in anticipation, "I haven't fucked you yet."
He flipped her over onto her stomach and dove in again, making Michonne squeal in surprise. Thinking about her reception to what he had just done to her and all the ambitions he possessed for round two, he looked down at her sleek ebony back and the plush pillowy cakes of flesh under his control to revel for a brief moment. Then bringing one of her legs up to rest in the crook of his arm, he went to work again. Giving her a taste of her own medicine, he caught her by the hair, pulling until she levitated from the sheets.
"You like... that... huh?" The words staggered out of him with ragged breath. "What you... wanted... right?"
He heckled her request for this corporal punishment and boasted in her inability to respond with a coherent answer. She could only whine sharply at the end of his wild stroke. The sound of applause from their colliding bodies was well deserved and it threatened to see Rick spent but Michonne beat him to it. She came again- in half the time- leaving her legs shaky and her vision spotty.
But Rick still wasn't done.
He stood up from the bed and dragged her by an ankle, toward him. He cupped her meaty stretch-marked cheeks and lifted her onto his ever-ready rod, slick and stiff as a tuning fork. Michonne could only hold on as his flexed forearms sent her higher aloft his jacked, throbbing cock and the divine law of gravity wedged him further inside her every time he dropped her onto the curve of his length, accosting her g-spot.
"God!" She gasped. "Rick!" She popped as her eyes rolled back.
"Make up your mind." He quipped with a sexy swagger as he spun around and threw her back against the wall, with her wrists tight in his grasp and pinned next to her head, he pounded away at her core.
He was so deep and so delicious. Michonne was past pleasure and Rick could tell. She was always right about everything else, but if the challenge was making his woman come, he needed no crib notes. All it took was all he'd been born with and that convinced him every time they made love that, if God was real, he was currently 100% pro-Rick Grimes.
He let her wrists go so he could hook his arm around her waist and pull her close. Finally free, her hands went straight to the nape of his neck. He felt a distinctly dominant current traveling through him causing him to grip her thigh with his other hand in a boorish manner that made Michonne wince at the pressure. Rick let out a muffled howl between her breasts and left a tingling mess inside her. His convulsing cock ruined her effectively and she crashed into a climax that left her in tears.
She didn't dare let go of him, legs crossed like a bow around the gift of his perfect behind. Still holding her tight with one arm and bracing the wall behind her with the other, he worked on regaining his composure. All the smart talk was done. They were both speechless. Until he lowered her and Michonne's feet fell to the floor, causing her to give a clear yelp of pain.
"What?" Rick lightly touched her hips, not knowing where she hurt.
Michonne held onto his shoulder. "Shit." She whispered, embarrassed, "I can't stand up."
"What?" Rick questioned again, though he heard her fine the first time. "What's wrong?"
"Ah!" She bit her lip. "It hurts when I put my weight on my feet."
"What hurts? Your legs?" The space between Rick's eyes knotted.
"Uhh. No..." She tried to take a step, "Ah! It's like… maybe… I don't know! But it hurts down there." She inclined her chin toward the space between her legs that he'd just pillaged and plundered.
"See, Chonne. I knew it! We should have waited!" He nervously ran his hand over his beard, while he kept her from falling over with the other. "Look. Just sit down."
She didn't address his reprimand as she attempted to sit on the bed "Ow, ow, ow!" She breathed out plaintively, "I can't. I can't sit down." trying to work up a little more sympathy and less scolding from the love of her life.
"Oh my god. Fuck! See what you made me do?" Rick fussed in a panic. He was too upset about her being in pain to give her any grace. "I'm going to get Dr. James."
"No way! Rick, it's the middle of the night!" Michonne protested.
"Put this on." He helped her into his shirt. "Can you lay down?"
"Uhhh… ow… owwwww."
Rick laid Michonne down and threw something on his nude body. "I'm gonna to go get her."
"Rick, no!" Michonne tried to call him back in a whisper but he walked out into the hallway… and, presumably, out into the street, in nothing but his boxers and boots. Michonne was powerless to stop him. She lay there, on her back, virtually paralyzed. What could she do but cover her face with her hands in disbelief? She gave a tiny giggle. She was not in so much pain that she couldn't find the humor of her circumstances.
Out on the streets of Alexandria, Rick commenced a jog, heading a few houses down to where the mid-wife was staying with Tara. She planned to be there until Michonne's six week check-up just in case there were any complications.
Daryl was coming back from the wall on a 7-11 shift, when he heard the clod of Rick's boots hitting the asphalt and saw Michonne's husband running in the middle of the street more naked than he'd like his fearless leader to be.
"Hey! Rick!" He called a few yards forward to his friend's back. Rick turned briefly and Daryl rushed to meet him. "Hey, man, you okay? You sleepwalkin' or some shit."
"Naw. It's Michonne."
Daryl heard the worry in Rick's voice and it was contagious.
"What, man? She sick?"
It hit Rick, then, that he couldn't tell Daryl what had actually happened. Michonne would have his head. So he skipped answering the question and employed Daryl to fetch Dr. James and bring her back to his house so he could go back and wait with Michonne.
Once back in the house, Rick ran upstairs and swung the door to their room open. "You any better?" He asked, rushing to her side and placing a hand on her leg, subconsciously hoping to heal her.
"No." She answered. "Still can't sit or stand. But you know what would make me feel a little better?"
"What, honey?" He stood alert and eager.
"If you put on some clothes and stop parading my goodies through the streets." She said with a sly smile that calmed Rick just a bit.
"Well, Daryl's getting the doctor." He told her as he grabbed up some jeans and a shirt.
"Daryl?"
"Yeah. I ran into him." Michonne rolled her eyes and sighed with displeasure. Rick tried to assuage her, "I didn't tell him anything. Don't worry." Feeling guilty, he took a seat in the window sill on the other side of the room, sitting as far away from her as possible while still keeping watch over her like a sentinel.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments as they waited for help to come.
Michonne just laid there thinking, This is unreal. Maybe I'm getting too old for this or... Damn! This man is really packing a lethal weapon... This is some wild shit... It was worth it though. She smiled to herself and glanced over at her husband, Look at him. Her eyes began to well, I love him so much. Oh my God... Get a hold of yourself, Michonne. She moved her eyes off Rick to stare at her hands resting at her midsection. Daryl better not say a word when I see him, I swear to God.
Then Rick started to speak,
"Babe, if you're…" but before he could finish, he heard Dr. James' jewelry tinkling in the house and what sounded like a group of people murmuring to each other and pair after pair of feet bounding the steps up to their room. The two of them looked at each other wondering who else could be with her. Michonne was dying of embarrassment already but Rick was just happy the doctor was there.
Michonne could imagine what Dr. James would say. Here we go, she thought. She knew they were both about to be in big trouble.
