And just in time for the premiere, this Sunday. And Sunday just happens to also be my birthday. Clearly not a coincidence. Read and review!

Chapter Four

It was an easy routine, predictable, and for that Daryl was grateful. There would be a day and a half of torture. A period when every time Beth would brush past him, he'd thrum with desire. But he couldn't touch her. And he couldn't touch himself. So he'd simply wait.

And then there would be the nighttime, every other night to be exact, when he and Beth would take watch together and she would right his world. The heat would build up inside of him, sparking his veins alight, until that magic moment when he would kneel down in front of Beth's perfect form, and she would touch him for the first time.

Her touch was devastating. It made his world collapse in on itself until there was nothing left but her.

Every ghosting grace of her fingertips over his scarred body was a form of worship. Daryl realized that now, after two weeks of her careful caresses. She never did more than stroke him with her hand, explore the rest of him with her fingers and mouth. But the realization that Beth really did want him like this, that she wasn't going to stop out of the blue, made the experience so much better.

She told him all the time, how good he was, how proud she was of him for holding out. He received more praise and affection from Beth in their few weeks together than he'd gotten in the entirety of his fucked up life.

Her words were what made things whole. Even in their public life, walking about the prison and just living each day, Beth found ways to hold him steady. She told him when to eat and when to sleep. She made sure he didn't volunteer for each and every run, and that he had his cuts and bruises looked at by Hershel after returning from a hunt. Daryl had never felt so cared for in his entire life, and though it frightened him, and sometimes unnerved him, he also undeniably craved it.

There was moment Daryl looked forward to above all else, in the late hours of each evening, when Beth would come by his cell. She would tuck him in, and sit at the edge of his bed, speaking softly to him for a while. She would ask him about his day, and tell him about hers. She would gently stroke his hair, massage his scalp. Sometimes she'd let him lay his head on her lap. And sometimes, he'd press a gentle, chaste kiss to the inside of her wrist, catching her off guard.

Daryl had never felt this close to anyone before. Not that he had much to compare it to. He'd never let anyone get this close.

Last night, though, last night was a different kind of beast.

She'd pushed him too far.

It had started out just like every other night they spent together. Hands tied behind his back, on his knees in front of her, letting Beth have free reign over his body. It never took long to get him trembling, every small touch a punishment that he'd gladly bear if only to spend a few more minutes with her. And Daryl had gotten better, as things had gone on. He didn't hesitate to tell her what he wanted now. Please. Touch me. Need you. Make me come.

But last night, it hadn't been enough. Teasing touches, barely-there strokes, flicks of the tongue lashing over-heated flesh. And yet, nothing he said seemed to sate her. It went on that way for nearly three hours. Beth would show him the briefest amount of attention, perhaps fondling the head with one moistened finger, or rolling and cradling his low-hanging balls. But then she would be gone again, loading and unloading her gun, checking the perimeter.

He could only continue kneeling there on the floor, and wait for her. Daryl moaned for Beth, he whimpered and writhed at every sensation. She massaged the glands under the head with one hand, and kept a firm grip on his nuts with the other, preventing them from drawing up towards his body.

"Beth…."

She hummed idly, watching him thrum in his hand. His thighs were shaking violently now, trembling from her touch, as well as the effort of maintaining this position for so long.

"Beth, please…" he whimpered.

Her eyes remained focused on her task.

"Beth…I can't. Please, Beth. I'll do whatever you want. Lemme come…I've gotta… I can't…please. Fuck, please, please Beth, please," Daryl groaned desperately.

He begged her.

He begged her, and it didn't make a lick of difference. She continued her measured torture, never once looking him in the eye. And that's when Daryl snapped, because he didn't beg. Daryl learned the futility of begging when he was six years old. Tied to the tree out back, blood pouring down his back, pleading with his dad to stop, please stop. But he didn't stop, not until Daryl had passed out from the pain.

"Stop," Daryl whispered aloud, and was again ignored.

"STOP!" he shouted, lurching backwards against the couch to get out of her grasp. "I can't…I can't do this…I can't…" he near sobbed, rubbing his wrists raw in an effort to get free.

Now that got Beth's attention. Immediately she was at his side, ignoring the way he flinched away from her touch, curled his body in on itself as if he were about to be struck. She worked quickly to untie his hands, allowing the freedom to push himself even further away, leaning against the couch for the support and raking one hand painfully through his hair.

"Daryl," Beth whispered. And she was looking at him now, really looking. "Daryl."

"M'sorry," he mumbled to the floor, "Can't do it. Can't do it for you. M'sorry."

"Shh, don't say that. You have nothing to be sorry for," Beth immediately replied, and Daryl met her eyes in surprise. Though he'd never seen Beth angry before, he figured this, of all things, would draw that out of her. He'd…failed. He wasn't good anymore, not nearly good enough, she wouldn't want him…

"Daryl, I'm so sorry," Beth whispered, inching towards his side but keeping her hands to herself. "This was all my fault. I shouldn't have kept denying you like that. I wanted to see how far…I should have seen it. I'm so sorry Daryl."

Daryl was still shaking hard, but this time, when she reached out a hand to cup his cheek, he didn't flinch away. Encouraged, Beth pulled Daryl against her, kneeling at his side and pressing his head into her shoulder. She rubbed his back in small circles, murmuring apologies into his hair, waiting for the trembling to die down.

After a long while, Daryl eventually seemed to calm.

"Come sit with me?" Beth suggested. A question, not a demand. Daryl complied, situating himself next to her on the couch with a deep sigh.

Beth turned to face him, hands still moving against his scalp. "Daryl, what just happened?"

He bit steadily at his lower lip before answering. "You've seen my back," he began.

Beth nodded, "At the farm."

"You know how I got 'em?"

He'd never said it aloud. Not to anyone. But there were only so many options.

Daryl wouldn't look her in the eye. "Your dad?"

He let out a breath through his nose and clenched his hands into fists. Daryl gave her a minute nod. "Can't…can't beg ya. Can't ask ya like that and have ya just…I can't…" He stopped himself short, struggling to find the words.

But Beth understood. It was about trust.

"It won't happen again, Daryl, I promise. I never should have let it go on that long." He nodded his agreement, but remained quiet. "But Daryl…I never would have left you like that, you know that right?"

He gave her an uncertain glance, but the fact that he was finally looking at her said everything.

"And anyways," she added lightly, "You're so sexy when you come for me. I'd never pass up watching you do that."

Daryl let out an embarrassed huff and blushed lightly, but finally raised his eyes to meet hers.

Beth gave him a soft smile, "Daryl, a while back you told me you were worried this was one-sided." Her hand went to his neck, thumb moving in soothing circles. "Do you still want to touch me?"

Daryl's eyes widened in surprise. "I…yeah…'course I do."

Beth beamed at him, and startled the man further by quickly straddling him, trapping his still half-hard cock between them.

"I'm going to kiss you, Daryl," Beth whispered. Fair warning. And then she leaned in slowly, and pressed her lips to his.

It took him by surprise, and for a moment Daryl was frozen underneath her. But then Beth's tongue traced his lower lip, and from that moment on, he was hers. He moaned against her, mimicking every movement of her lips and tongue. When she bit playfully at him, he growled into her mouth, and Beth felt his hardness twitch against her stomach.

That's much better. Beth took him firmly in hand, stroking him fast and hard. And immediately, Daryl was bucking up into her clutch, groaning out her name with every breath and praying for release.

It was all too familiar, aside from the intensity. But then Daryl realized one significant difference: his hands. They were free, available, with no cuffs or instructions impeding him from touching her as he wished. Though to be fair, Daryl wasn't entirely sure how he wanted to touch Beth, or how she would want him to touch her.

So he went the safest route, splaying one palm over the small of her back, and letting the other hand twist into her golden locks, scratching gently as she often did for him. Daryl felt pride swell up inside of him when Beth began to make soft sounds against his lips, sounds of want.

She really wants me. She's letting me do this.

After that, Daryl was completely lost.

"That's it, Daryl. You're so good."

He was moaning too loud. But every time her fist twisted over the head, his entire body throbbed.

"I know, I know how close you are. Just barely holding back for me, aren't you?"

Daryl whimpered, then moaned anew as he felt Beth gently caress his balls.

"Let me hear you," she murmured to him. "Touch me, Daryl. Come for me."

After being denied release so many times, tortured incessantly, Daryl was pretty much hair-trigger. And in the end, he came without warning. His back arced up off the couch, and he pulled Beth against him, wanting as much contact as possible. Even her mouth against his couldn't muffle his desperate moans. His orgasm wrecked him, barreling through him and leaving him twitching in the aftermath.

Daryl held her like that for some time, cock still throbbing every so often with the aftershocks of his pleasure. He'd never come that hard before, or for so long, and he was surprised he was still breathing.

Eventually, his breathing began to even out, helped along by the butterfly-light closed-mouth kisses Beth kept pressing to his neck and his cheek and his brow. She pressed her forehead to his, reveling in the moment.

Daryl's eyes were locked onto hers. "Can I…?"

She smiled gently at him. Of course, you silly man. "Always."

Beth saw his lips quirk in a smile, and then he was kissing her again, slow and deep, but mostly just grateful. The few girls Daryl had kissed in his life, it had always just been a prelude to sex. He'd thrust his tongue into their mouths, minimizing any time he'd have to spend with them face-to-face, then thrust them up against the closest wall and get on with it.

Kissing Beth…it almost hurt. It made him feel closer, rather than farther away. Beth broke away from him for air.

"Was that…?" he asked uncertainly.

She understood what he meant. Am I good enough?

"You're awfully good at that," she teased, "We'll have to put that mouth to good use more often."

Daryl blushed, but gave her a relieved grin.

"From now on, you can kiss me whenever you want to, Daryl. Though I wouldn't recommend doing it when my dad is around. You don't have to ask permission. I'm always going to want it."

I'm always going to want you, Daryl heard. He kissed her again, for good measure.

Beth giggled in his lap, "Alright, we ought to get back to work."