Chapter Three - Melting Hearts
Warning: There is smut in this chapter, so if that's not your thing, here's your friendly warning. Happy Christmas to you all!
And his body responded immediately. His breath hitched, her scent wrapping around him to invade his frayed senses, his skin tightened, feeling too constricting for his frame as her hands reached for him, and he couldn't mistake the darkening of her eyes as her gaze locked with his in the dim light. He was trapped there with her in a cocoon of warmth and his inner beast yearned to be unleashed, to take, to claim, with raw abandon. Tremors still ripped through his body, his heart pumping double time to battle the cold and restore his temperature, yet he was afraid to allow her any closer, his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist to stop her from touching him, unsure if he could contain the primal side of his nature if she did.
Carol laid her head on their shared pillow – the same one he'd scavenged for her the last time she'd woken with a crick in her neck – and shushed him gently, relaxing her hand as he held her wrist in his iron grip. He was scared. Did he think she couldn't see it raw and bare, shining forth from his tortured gaze? She was no stranger to past abuse, having suffered at the hands of someone who was supposed to have loved her, which was why she tread so carefully with her Dixon. His own ghosts were no doubt the reason he'd chosen her to begin with, to shelter and care for, his person, his reason. They all had a reason to fight for their survival. Before she'd thought it was merely due to their friendship … but now? Now she could see the heat in his smoky blue eyes, the longing and desire he wasn't able to hide. Yet still, she couldn't bring herself to bridge the gap and give in to the burning need she felt for him. She didn't think she could bear the rejection should he turn away from her, but she would not allow him to suffer.
Her breath fanned over the shell of his ear, and he shuddered from top to toe, his grip bruising now, yet it didn't faze her in the least. Nothing he could ever do would compare to what Ed had been capable. "Daryl … you have to let me warm you. I know you don't like to be touched, but … please, I need you to let me help you. I can't lose you … not like this," she pleaded, her voice at the same time urgent yet whisper-soft.
The breath rushed out of him, and his grip loosened until she was able to pull away – which she took as a good sign – and she smiled softly. Tentatively, so as not to rush him, her fingers danced along the cold skin of his arm, curling over his shoulder and guiding him to roll towards her. Carol forced herself not to flinch as his nose burrowed against her throat. He was reminiscent of a marble statue as she fitted herself flush with him, cursing the cold and the thick quilt trapping her body heat. She felt every tremor and shiver which wracked his frame, and she could feel tears gather behind her lids at the fruitlessness of her actions.
Carol held him tightly, refusing to allow him the chance to run, assuring him with her gentle touch she was no threat. She knew how hard this must be for him as her hands roamed over his scarred back, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. Even on the road, out in the open and terrified to light even the smallest of campfires, they'd never suffered such bone-numbing cold. Anger fueled her blood with every brush of her fingers … enraged by the fates which had brought this brave man so low and fury for his father to make Daryl shy away from the basic comfort of having her warm him.
She didn't believe for a second Daryl was afraid of what she might do to him. She'd never harm him. It had to go deeper than that, she mused. They'd shared a bedroll almost since the night they'd fled the farm. The only thing which had changed was … A lightbulb clicked on, bright and blinding in her subconscious. He was afraid she'd have a problem with being so intimately pressed to him in the confines of their bedding. She gave herself a mental facepalm. Why hadn't she seen it before? As close as they'd become over the past months, she hadn't delved deeply enough to see he feared rejection from her even moreso than he did from the others. Nice going, Carol Ann!
She had to take a chance she was right. And if she wasn't … well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.
The whole of his body quaked, and he wasn't entirely convinced it was strictly due to the cold making his skin prickle with pins and needles as blood returned to his nerve endings. He'd never shown his scars to another living soul. Even when Hershel had patched him up after that fateful day he'd injured himself at the ravine, he'd been careful not to let the man see the evidence of abuse carved into his skin. Only Carol, and that hadn't been his choice. It was a common occurrence to slip off past the tree line wherever they chose to make camp to change his clothes, not one to need or want an audience.
She'd come upon him, his back in full view as he'd been changing his shirt. Her soft gasp, the look of horror on her face and the subsequent rage which had turned his blood hot, had scared him a little. She'd ignored his anger then just as she did now, and wrapped her arms around his body as it vibrated with fury at her discovery. Carol had wept for him, for the pain he'd suffered and in turn showed him the scars littering her own torso, both back and front, testament to her husband's sick twisted perversions.
It had only made him want to protect her even more, to shield her from the insanity of the world and hold her close to his heart. Now as he rested in her arms, her fingers tracing gently over every uneven patch of skin, the memories were distant, a mere echo of his past instead of an attack on his mind where his father's face and words came again and again in vivid detail. Carol's sleep was no longer disturbed with visions of Ed. They were slowly healing one another, he realized, and he felt the weight lift from his shoulders and send him inching closer to his woman.
Despite the pain in his body, he felt as if he could sleep there with her for a week. All that went to hell when he felt her withdraw enough to pull the quilt from around her petite form. "What're y' doin', woman?!" he hissed, his eyes wide. There was no place to retreat from her nakedness, nowhere to hide. His inner beast roared in delight just as his fears urged him to run.
Daryl watched her as she wiggled around until she could pull the quilt from around her and thrust it over their heads to land haphazardly on the rug. The breath froze in his lungs as she reached for him. What was he supposed to do with his hands? What if she felt …
It was Carol's turn to shiver as she once again pressed herself flush with his body, his skin so frigid compared to her heat. Goosebumps erupted on her arms as her hands spread out over his chest to curl up and around his neck, pulling his unresponsive form against her. "The quilt was trapping my body heat and was keeping me from warming you properly," she explained, dragging his head down to rest against the crook of her neck. "This is much better."
Daryl angled his lower body away from her and hesitantly brought his hand to settle on her hip. "How is this better? Now you're cold too."
Her nipples pebbled against his chest, and her pearly teeth sank into her lower lip, biting hard to stifle the low moan fighting its way from her throat. She could only hope he attributed her body's response to the cold instead of the flaming need coursing through her body. "N-No, I'm ok. Just relax," she purred, dragging her nails across his nape.
"Carol …" The sound slipped past his lips in a ragged whisper as his nose skimmed along the ivory column of her throat. It felt so right … with her … in that moment … but he couldn't allow himself to get lost. She was simply trying to warm, to comfort, and … fuck it all to hell! The hand passively resting against her hip tightened possessively, pulling her closer, the other sliding up her back to grasp her nape, tilting her head to give his lips better access. He licked a long swath of her skin from the base of her throat to her ear, the sweet salty taste of her skin exploding on his tongue and making his head reel with the drugging effects of her perfection. "For fuck's sake, Carol … tell me t' stop," he groaned, his low graveled voice a seductive plea.
Carol shuddered with what he hoped was pleasure, surprising him as she slung her leg over his hip and hauled him closer, her core cradling his thick cock. "No … that's the last thing I'll ever ask of you," she breathed, trailing her fingers along his jaw and tilting his face up to meet her sloe-lidded gaze.
To prove her point, she swiveled her hips, grinding against his turgid length until he groaned, her wet heat sliding over his cock with wanton need. "Y' … gawd, woman … y' didn't ask for this. Y' deserve better –"
The cool pads of her fingertips traced his lips, smiling as she noticed the color returning to them. Her other hand carded through his hair, the clean strands like silk against her digits. "I've loved you for a long time, Daryl. I just never thought you'd want me this way. I was more than content having you as my friend … even though I wanted more. I wanted to give up … after Sophia, losing the farm, our pitiful existence on the road moving place to place with no hope … but you wouldn't let me. It was then I realized it was you."
"What was me?" he panted, trying to regain his focus – which was damn near impossible when his woman was grinding on his cock. Did she really jus' say she loved me?!
"My reason to go on, to survive … to live. You don't have to feel the same way, just don't push me away. This doesn't have to change anything, but I won't lie to you. I do love you, Daryl Dixon, with my whole heart." Carol buried her face against his throat, hiding her eyes and the tears she couldn't restrain. She wanted this, needed him with a burning passion, but she didn't want to see pity in his eyes. She didn't think she could bear it.
He felt as if his tongue were glued to the roof of his mouth. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to tell her. It piled there behind his teeth like a train wreck, refusing to push past and relieve her fears. Fuck that! Daryl trailed his hand over her side until he could place one gentle calloused finger beneath her chin to tilt her head up. Without a word, he slanted his lips over hers, tenderly coaxing her to open for him. Carol didn't hold back, giving him what he wanted, though her eyes were still wide and wary, as though she was just waiting for him to break her.
Daryl panted, trying to muster some control. Sweat beaded along his brow and the tremors brought on by the cold had ceased only to be replaced with a different kind of trembling. He held her gaze, refusing to be a coward or any of the numerous derogatory terms his brother was so fond of calling him. "Woman, you're crazy if y' think this don't change things between us," he growled, his eyes deep pools of intensity as they locked with hers. "Y' need t' be sure this is what y' want, 'cause there ain't no goin' back t' how things've been." When her lips parted to argue, he swooped in and kissed her breathless once more. "Be sure, Carol. We do this … you're mine. Y' belong t' me. MINE. Mine t' protect, t' love, t' honor … always, from here on out. You're it for me."
Her fingers tightened in his hair and the sound which escaped his throat was positively feral. Carol had been enslaved to an abusive, controlling monster for the better part of two decades, but there was no doubt in her mind the possessiveness in Daryl's voice was on the opposite end of the spectrum from Ed. Where once she'd prayed for freedom, now she relished the idea of belonging to her hunter. With every word and deed, little by little, he'd already shown her he would never stray or forsake the bond they'd forged. A shiver passed through her at the thought of how that bond would grow if she'd just take a chance on him.
Tears misted her eyes once more, but there was no sorrow to be found there; only happiness. "I'm sure … I want to be yours."
Daryl released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She'd taken so long to give him the answer he desired, he hadn't been sure she would answer at all. His old doubts had crept in, making him begin to believe he'd already fucked up. Yet, she'd banished them in an instant with her sweet smile and affirmation.
He let his body melt a little more into hers, reveling in the pure sensation she evoked within him. "Jus' as I'm yours, Carol. As sure as if I'd jus' put a ring on your finger … I'm yours."
Carol moaned softly, so wrapped up in her joy she nearly forgot there were others scattered about the room. Her body was on fire, sweat-slicked skin rubbing sensuously against her, the ache in her womb begging for relief as he kissed her with wild abandon. There was barely room to move in the cramped sleeping bag, but it didn't seem to deter her lover.
There wasn't a place on her body Daryl didn't touch as his lips trailed a hot path of sin down the column of her neck, tongue paying homage to her fair freckled skin, teeth tugging, leaving his mark for all to see. He knew they'd have some explaining to do in the morning, but he couldn't have cared less in the moment, not when his woman was writhing wantonly in his arms, her nails scoring rivers of red down his back.
He was impossibly hard, the slow slip and slide through her molten folds making his quest for restraint an unattainable dream. Daryl brought his rough hand up to cover her breast, the pert bud at its center pressing hotly into his palm. He circled it with his thumb, teasing her as her back arched, pressing her closer to his heated skin. God, how he wanted to slip deep into her heat and lose himself, to claim her irrevocably, to make her his. "Carol …"
Her nails dug into his side, and he hissed, biting his lips as the pain mixed with his pleasure and sent him to new heights. "Please … now!" she breathed, hitching her leg higher on his hip to give him more room. "Don't make me wait anymore. Daryl …"
Carol wrapped her hand around his cock, wishing she could see all of him in the muted light from the opening of the sleeping bag, and guided him to her entrance as his lips closed around her nipple. He grinned as she let out a choked cry and impaled herself on him, letting it go with a wet pop and moving up to claim her lips.
Daryl could never remember seeing anything so beautiful as he watched her shiver uncontrollably in his arms, taking all of him. "Look at me!" he commanded, nipping at the throbbing pulse point beneath her jaw. He forced himself to remain still, wanting nothing to distract her. "MINE! My woman … my Carol … Gawd, I love y' so goddamn much."
Tears gathered in her eyes at his heartfelt admission, and she buried her face against his throat as he began to move. She'd never been filled so perfectly before, neither her body nor her heart. It almost didn't seem right that the world had to end to find him, but she would spend the rest of her life thanking god for allowing her to know him. He was hers, and it just made their joining all the more special.
Daryl growled, a low rumbling sound of pleasure which spread up from his chest. Positioning was limited in the small space they occupied, and what he wouldn't give for a bed right then. An enormous king-size where he could lay her out and feast on every inch of her flesh, worship her like the goddess she was and then thank her for it. His hand gripped her hip tightly as he pounded into her silken heat, reveling in her breathy little moans against his neck and the tiny flutters which had begun to clasp his cock. He didn't know how much longer he'd be able to bear it, but he would not finish without her. He would not leave her disappointed. In all things, she would be happy, he vowed.
"Let go, sweetheart … now … I need t' feel it … t' feel y' ..."
The pressure was unbearably sweet, nothing close to anything she'd ever felt before aside from her own hand, and she was almost reluctant to let it go. And just as the tension built low in her belly, so did a scream perch precariously on her tongue.
"Carol … please," he groaned, feeling the electric spark crackle and jolt at the base of his spine.
She fell, the line tethering her to the earth snapping free to send her flying. Her teeth sank into the corded muscle of his neck, the scream muffled against his skin. The pain sent a surge of lust straight to his cock, and there wasn't enough willpower in the world to stop him from following her, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled himself within her.
*.*.*
Daryl woke sometime near dawn to find himself stretched out on his back, a half-moon grin curling one side of his mouth. He could feel Carol's blunt fingernails drawing nonsensical patterns on his chest, a slow soothing touch he discovered he liked rather well. However, he didn't too much care for the worry evident in her lovely azure eyes as he lifted his head to seek her gaze. She was sprawled over his chest, her chin resting on her hand, her teeth worrying anxiously at her full lower lip. "Hey, beautiful," he purred with a lazy stretch before wrapping his arms around her.
"Hey," she returned, the tension leaving her in an instant.
"What's wrong?" he queried softly, hauling her upwards for a sweet kiss. "Y' sleep ok?"
"For a while. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Y' didn't. Need t' go take a piss … but first I wanna know what has y' lookin' like that. Are y' regrettin' –"
"No," she cut him off, tracing his lips with her forefinger. "No, Daryl. I could never regret something so beautiful. You made me feel so loved." She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth over his beauty mark and sighed. "I was afraid you would. I was watching you sleep, and I couldn't help thinking when you woke, you would run."
Daryl caught her around the waist and rolled her beneath him, kissing her deeply. "I'm through runnin', woman. Got everythin' I could ever want right here. Carol, I meant what I said t' y' last night. We belong t' each other now. Don't matter what we're gonna face down the road, but that simple fact ain't gonna change. Y' hear me?"
She nodded, the smile she reserved only for him, genuine and happy, shining through. He gave her one last kiss before he left the shelter of their bedroll, reaching for his clothes. "You plan on being long?"
"Gonna check th' gates an' walk th' wall, but I'll be back for breakfast," he promised as he pulled on his boots.
"I guess that's my cue to get started," she groaned petulantly, wishing they could just go back to bed for the rest of the morning.
Daryl crawled back over to her, a sexy grin stretching his lips. "Don't be like that, baby. There's always t'night."
She giggled softly as his scruff tickled her neck. "Alright, where's my grumpy Dixon and what have you done with him?"
He grabbed his crossbow and huffed, his eyes locking with hers. "I'm sure he's still here … y' jus' gave him a reason t' smile."
THE END
A/n: Happy Christmas to all who are reading this! All the chocolaty marshmallow Santas for my readers! I really hope y'all are having a wonderful holiday filled with joy and love. Stay safe out there.
A stocking full of love and kisses for my betas: BettyBubble and Geektaire … two wonderful ladies who welcomed me into their lives and made me part of their family. I love you, ladies. More love for Marie1063 and CLADD who are always there with hugs when things just don't want to go my way. And Merry Christmas, Bug! I hope your holiday was blessed. Love you all!
