Let's kick off the week with some explicit sexual content, yes? ; ) I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for your feedback so far! : )

Carol returned to their bedroom and shut the door quietly.

"You shouldn't have asked him to stay," Daryl told her softly, sitting on the edge of their bed in only his underwear as he removed his remaining sock.

He watched as she took off her cardigan and folded it, draping it methodically over the back of the wooden chair in the corner of the room with a furrowed brow. His eyes remained focused on her graceful movements as she bent down to peel the nylons off her slender legs and place them over top of the cardigan.

Daryl reached an arm out towards her as soon as she straightened up and she took a step towards him. The instant she was close enough to touch, his hands went to her waist, and he pulled her over to stand in between his legs.

She brought a hand to his shoulder while the fingertips of the other brushed the hair off his forehead, and he closed his eyes to the familiar touch he loved so much.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, bringing both hands to cup his jaw, the tips of her fingers still lingering in his hair. "Are you mad at me?"

His opened his eyes then and looked straight into hers.

"Nah. You're trying to help, Carol. I get it. Just don't want you to be disappointed when he fucks it up. He ain't gonna appreciate this. He ain't gonna appreciate you. Just shouldn't've asked him to stay, is all."

"Maybe," she mumbled. Her eyes trained on the path of her fingers as they moved once again through his hair. She took a breath before deciding to ask her next question in a whisper, bringing her eyes back to his. "Will he hurt you?"

That black eye. He knew it had bothered Carol more than she let on. And he understood completely why.

"Not if he's sober, he won't. Never touched me unless he was on some shit."

Of that, Daryl was confident. Merle was the most loyal brother anyone could ask for when he was sober. He may have been a complete fuck-up in every area of his life, but when he was high, he became unpredictable. Those were the only times Daryl found it wise to lock his door at night.

"He's good for nothin'," he told her, looking into her eyes.

"He needs someone. I couldn't just send him off to sleep out on the street."

"Might do him some good."

His eyes raked over the front of her as he slid his hands from her waist, down over the swell of her hips and the sides of her thighs.

"Or a whole lot more bad. Daryl, he's your brother. He won't just disappear. No matter how badly you might want him to," she said as his hands made contact with the bare skin of her thighs.

He looked up at her face, watching her mouth as her tongue licked her bottom lip. His fingers toyed with the bottom hem of her dress.

And he just loved her, plain and simple. He wasn't the least bit surprised that she was giving Merle a chance. It was her good heart, doing what she could to help. To make things better.

Because that's what Carol did. She made things better.

"Might be worth it," she continued. "If it helps, it's worth a shot, isn't it? If it helps him to have someone? Maybe that's all he needs."

If it helps.

Before she could even finish speaking, his lips were on her skin and she could barely breathe. He placed the softest of kisses along her collarbone and let his hands travel back up her thighs, underneath the fabric of her dress.

"I won't let him hurt you," Daryl whispered against her skin. His lips continued their gentle trail along her chest, her shoulders, the base of her throat. "Ever."

She tipped her head back to give him better access and sighed as the goose bumps appeared on her skin, and his hands slowly and softly continued to make their way higher. Over her thighs, her hips, her waist.

"He won't," she breathed, her own hands moving lightly along his broad shoulders, barely coherent over the feeling of his lips, soft on her throat.

"He'll try."

And his mouth was making its way higher, up towards her earlobe, leaving a warm trail that left her breathless as the tips of his thumbs skimmed the undersides of her breasts.

She sighed in delight and let her hands travel down the smooth skin covering his biceps, and making him shiver as she glided her fingertips back up.

He pulled her closer – just barely – but enough that she was flush against him now. He kissed her chest, over the good heart he loved so much. The one that loved him too.

Carol's hands slid up his neck until her fingers weaved themselves into his hair, tilting his face up to meet hers. Hooded blue eyes met hooded blue eyes.

"We can try," she whispered, their lips brushing together as she spoke. "If it helps. It's all we can do."

"We can try," he agreed, his whisper even softer than hers.

He let his hands travel just a bit further up her dress now, grazing her nipples with his thumbs and cupping her breasts just slightly. A low moan escaped her, hands fisting into his hair as she captured his mouth in a deep kiss, tongues dancing lazily.

His hands slid around to her back, squeezing her close in a brief but tight embrace. And then they moved lower and lower until they found her backside, squeezing with appreciation as he moaned into her mouth. He slid his fingers inside the waistband of her panties and tugged down gently, sliding them down as his hands ran over the firm swell of her ass and down the backs of her thighs. She stepped out of them when they hit the ground and flicked them out of the way with the tip of her toe.

Daryl took a moment then, and brought his mouth back to her throat as he kissed and licked and sucked, feeling her all over beneath her dress. But then he was ready for more – hungry for it – and he lifted the dress above her head, tossing it off to the side without a second thought.

His gaze travelled readily over her body as though he was seeing her naked for the first time. His hands remained firmly planted on her waist as he drank in the sight of her.

But this was so much different from that first time they'd shared together. Because back then, she'd been shy. Nervous. She had wanted the lights off, and it had made her uncomfortable when he looked at her. It was awkward, and they fumbled.

But now, seeing the hunger in his eyes made it impossible for her to look away from them. The appreciation in his gaze made her entire body buzz with excitement. He made her feel like some sort of goddess, something he worshipped and adored. Something worth his worship and adoration.

He pulled her closer and lavished soft, wet, passionate kisses all over her chest, her throat, her breasts, running his hands over every inch he could reach. And she melted into him, giving herself entirely over to him, adoring in the way he made her body light on fire.

She reached down and grabbed hold of the waistband of his underwear, tugging gently to pull him up to stand in front of her. She reached up to kiss his throat as she pushed his boxer briefs down his body.

And as she pushed them lower down his legs, she sank down to her knees, and he weaved his fingers into her hair as she wasted no time taking him deep into her mouth.

She sucked and licked slowly and deeply, using her hands to intensify the sensations as much as she could. And he loved to watch her sucking him off, when he was able to keep his eyes open against the incredible pleasure that coursed through his entire body.

She loved – loved – the sound of his groans, loved being able to make him feel this way. Loved that it was a whole new way of giving him something that showed him how deeply she felt for him. Having her mouth on him this way was the most intimate thing she'd ever done. It fanned the flames inside her and made the fire burn hotter.

He pulled her back up before too long though, taking hold of her hair as he kissed her deeply. Passionately. Intensely. Lovingly.

And as he kissed her, he turned her around so that the backs of her legs hit the bed, and he gently pushed her down as he climbed on top of her. He nipped away at her neck as he hovered above her, using one arm to prop himself up, and the other to feel his way slowly over her curves. He tugged her earlobe gently between his teeth and made her cry out as his fingers slid inside of her.

But just as quickly as the sound escaped her, she bit her bottom lip in an attempt to keep quiet, having almost forgotten about their unexpected guest in the next room. Daryl smirked in satisfaction, dipping his head down to claim her mouth once more, sucking and biting gently as she moaned into his mouth.

She wriggled and writhed underneath him, still not yet used to the shock at the way he knew how to touch her. The wild pleasure he gave her with only his touches, his kisses. It was like he knew exactly which buttons to push at exactly the right times. Like he'd fine-tuned their trysts down to an art form – one that he'd studied and practiced and perfected.

He knew her now – and she knew him – and they had never known it was even possible to feel a bliss such as this. Never knew it was possible to give yourself so entirely to someone else and have them feel how much you loved them.

Never knew it was possible to show love this way, or what it was to even love this way.

And when his mouth made its way down her body, trailing unhurried kisses on the skin of her chest and shoulders and breasts, his tongue drawing lazy circles around her belly button, she laced her fingers in his hair and held on as her breathing picked up.

Tonight, his mouth was slow and soft and tender as it moved against her center. His hands gripped her hips as he handled her in just the way he wanted. His mouth igniting her even more, doing what she liked in just the way he knew would bring her right to the very edge.

He kissed her down there, and she trembled against him, trying hard to keep herself quiet. Letting her quaking breaths speak volumes about how much she enjoyed it, how incredible he made her feel.

He gave her one last gentle kiss before bringing himself to hover over her once again, and she reached down to guide him along her opening before bring the tip of him to her entrance. They watched one another as they often did, as he pushed himself slowly inside of her, faces close and breaths mingling with one another. Noses bumping together.

She held him tight as he began to move inside her, and she struggled to keep her eyes on him. He nudged her cheek with his nose and she indulged him, tipping her head to the side so he could trace kisses and bites along her throat once more.

He breathed in deep as his nose skimmed the junction of her neck and collarbone, letting the scent of her swim through him and ease his very being. For a fleeting moment he wished he could bite right through – consume her – because he knew that however close they could ever get would never be close enough for him.

She gasped as his teeth grazed her skin, and he thrust just a touch rougher. She turned her head back to him suddenly, capturing his mouth with hers to stifle the sounds she could no longer control with the building pressure.

And she ran her hands along his chest, his shoulders, his neck, as he plunged steadily in and out of her, the heat of their bodies wrapping around them like a blanket. He kissed her softly now and again, unable to stop himself from putting his mouth on her.

But mostly, he watched her. Because the way she looked when they were tangled up in one another was a sight he'd often dream about. One he would daydream about. Replay it in his mind over and over again, all day long. The way she lost herself in him was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He felt trusted. He felt loved. And it was still so new to him that he could barely understand it. She made him want to give and give and make her feel good. She made him want to be better than he knew he was. Better than he knew he could ever be.

Her hands made their way to his face and her thumbs ran over his cheeks as she moaned, "Daryl," and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to pull himself back. She had to be first.

So he reached down between them, lifting himself just enough to give his hand enough room to rub her down there, giving her the jolt that would set her on fire.

"Oh, God," she panted.

"Yeah?" he asked in a feverish whisper.

"Yeah," she breathed.

And she managed to hold back as she came. His name escaped her mouth in the quietest of squeals as her body shook and her back arched as the wave overtook her. He sped up his pace then, and followed a fraction of a moment later before collapsing on top of her in a heap.

She wrapped her arms and legs around him with all the strength she could muster – wishing that they would finally just fuse together – and they stayed that way as minutes passed by. She kissed his shoulder softly, clutching him tightly as he buried his face into her neck.

They belonged inside one another. Each one holding firmly to the depth of the other, every single day, filling themselves wholly with everything they'd each been missing in their lives up to this point.

Neither had ever felt this understood, this accepted. Neither had ever felt like they belonged anywhere, the way they belong here. this bed and in this moment.

Made for each other. It wasn't just some cliché from the movies anymore. Cut from the same cloth, like two puzzle pieces that need the other to complete their picture.

Loving so fiercely in a way neither knew was even possible. Neither even sure if what they shared could even be called love anymore, or if they'd surpassed it and were now on some level that didn't have a name yet.

And before they fell asleep, he held her. Held her so firmly against himself as she drew lazy circles on his chest with the tip of her finger. Tilting her head now and then to kiss the skin under her cheek.

She loved cuddling after sex. She would never, ever tire of the way his body warmth felt against her, the way she fit perfectly in the crook of his arm, the way his strong shoulder and chest felt beneath her cheek. It was her safe place.

And so he held her afterwards, every single time. Letting her tangle their legs together as his arm grew progressively more numb. Because it was something she loved, and he would never turn down the opportunity to hold her. Never turn down an opportunity to give her something that made her happy.

"Daryl," she whispered, keeping her face on his chest as she took a deep breath.

He hummed a sleepy reply, and she felt the vibration of his voice against her cheek.

"How come you never told Merle about me?"

He tensed instantly, and she tightened her arm around his middle, fighting against his nudge for her to adjust.

"Look at me," his voice rumbled.

And so she reluctantly pulled herself up, propping herself on her elbow and looking at his face.

He looked her square in the eye when he said, "I ain't wanted him anywhere near you."

She swallowed and nodded timidly, figuring as much, figuring it had something to do with him protecting her from Merle, but wanting to hear him say it.

"I ain't wanted him to know you, ever. Ain't wanted him to ever say your name. See your face. Ain't wanted him to ruin you. 'M sorry. I shoulda told you he called. I never listened to his messages. I shoulda told you. Shoulda told him."

She shook her head softly, seeing the turmoil clear in his eyes.

Because Daryl had told her enough about Merle for her to know that he didn't want to have anything to do with his brother ever again. And she knew enough about the man Daryl was to know that he wanted to keep her separate.

He wanted to protect her from Merle and all the shit he brought with him everywhere he went.

Daryl saw her as something of a deity. Someone so innocent and pure that he never wanted her to be tainted with his baggage. She'd been through enough shit in her own life, and he wanted to finally give her all the good she deserved.

So she knew about his parents. Knew his father beat them senseless almost every week, between the slaps and shoves that came almost every other day. Knew his mother had numbed her own pain with liquor, and died when her cigarette slipped out of her fingers in bed after she'd passed out in the middle of the afternoon, setting their house on fire and burning it to the ground. Knew that's when he'd moved into this little trailer home with Merle and their daddyand had lived here ever since.

"I understand," she whispered, running her thumb along his cheek before nestling back into her spot on his chest. "He was so angry when he found out who I was. He thought he had the wrong house."

"'M sorry I weren't there, Carol." His fingertips brushed the arm she had draped across his middle, up and down and back up again.

"It's not your fault, Daryl. I just…wanted you to know. He was so angry."

Daryl blinked back the tears that were suddenly stinging his eyes. The thought of Merle making Carol feel bad in any way was enough to make him sick. It was why he'd never told him about her. Why he'd erased those messages before she could hear them.

They were quiet for a few minutes after that. She kept kissing him at random, and he clasped her fingers with his own, bringing them up to hover in the air above his chest, his fingers dancing with hers.

"We're gonna get married one 'a these days," he muttered, almost to himself.

"Oh yeah?" She smiled as her eyes watched their mingling hands.

"Yeah. Get you a diamond. Have a nice wedding, whatever you want. Make you my wife."

"I don't need a diamond. Or a wedding."

"Get you whatever the hell you want, then. Anything. And we'll get outta here. Buy us a real house. Bigger one. Just me an' you."

"I'm happy where we are, Daryl. We don't need a bigger house."

He smirked to himself, staring up at the darkness. Of course she was happy where they were. It was one of the reasons he loved her so much.

"Then we stay."

"I'd change my last name. I'd be Carol Dixon."

"Ain't gotta do that."

"I want to. Unless you don't want me to."

"'Course I want you to. And I'd give you a hundred babies if I could, too."

"I know," she whispered, after a beat. "I'm sorry we won't have that. I feel…sorry that…that you won't have that."

He dropped her hand instantly and fitted his palm against her jaw, pulling her face up to his and drawing her in close.

"Ain't nothin' to be sorry 'bout. Don't you ever feel sorry for that."

But what he really wanted to say was that he didn't need babies. What he really wanted to say was that she was more than he ever thought he'd ever have in his life.

"I love you," she mumbled, overcome with the warmth in his eyes.

He pulled her gently towards him, kissing her softly once. Then again. And on the third kiss he let his tongue mingle with hers and nuzzled their lips together before pulling away.

"Love you back."

She put her head back down, rooting herself into her spot, and drifted quickly off to sleep.