It was becoming much harder than he'd ever imagined to simply stop wanting Beth. He'd thought initially that it would be fine. After all, he'd wanted the girl for so long and had done nothing about it. Surely rewinding to a point in their lives where he hadn't yet touched her or kissed her or fucked her couldn't be too hard.
He was a damn fool for believing that lie for a second.
Nothing was harder than ignoring Beth Greene.
Every morning he awoke in the wrong bedroom, with nothing but a spare pillow at his side. Their eyes flickered past one anothers throughout the day, unsure of where to look.
Each day he'd look for an excuse to brush past her, to touch her in some tiny insignificant way that wouldn't appear suspicious or overly friendly. He'd reach for her hand to pull her up an embankment in the woods, or he'd brush a fallen leaf out of her hair. Anything to just physically touch her, to feel her warmth and her life under his hands. Each minuscle touch was electric, coursing through his veins and causing the front of his jeans to tighten uncomfortably.
She soon caught onto his less than innocent intentions, and began playing along. She acted like it was an innocent mistake to drop whatever she was holding when he entered a room, just so she could drop to her knees in front of him to pick it up. She brushed up against him with persistence, sometimes allowing her backside to drag across his arousal, or the soft swell of her breasts to nudge his back as she pretended to lean across him or reach around him. His teeth gritted in a selfish attempt to just grab her and give her what they both wanted - no - needed.
He liked to surprise her. On more than a few occasions when Maggie was showering or asleep and Glenn was couch-ridden, he snuck up behind her and pulled her tight against his body, her squeal of surprise muffled by his hand as he turned her around to face him, his lips crashing into hers desperately, her fingers clawing at the material of his shirt as their tongues duelled passionately, her back pressed to the wall.
Sometimes, she pleaded with him to touch her, to kiss her, to bite her, and it was physically painful for Daryl to continue to resist. Those big blue eyes could make him do just about anything, especially when it came to favours that would be as mutually satisfying as sinking his teeth into her neck or rolling those perfect pink nipples between his fingertips while she mewled and writhed in pleasure. He often found himself in precarious situations, with Beth's shirt ripped open and her legs wrapped around his waist, that wet intoxicating heat from her centre warming his groin and signalling to his brain that he needed to unzip his jeans and thrust up into her body.
"Please, Daryl. I don't care about Maggie. I need to feel you inside me, nothing feels better. I know you want me, Daryl. Don't you want to feel me? Don't you miss how tight I am? The sounds I make when you're pushing me over the edge?" she breathed erotic words into his ear with each meeting, her tempting monologues testing his patience and his self-control.
"Jesus, Beth, why you gotta say those things to me girl?" he'd groan, his fingers twisting in her hair.
"I can't help it. I need you so bad, every time I see you my body just wants you. Can't we break the rules just once? She doesn't have to find out. You can shove my panties in my mouth to keep me quiet."
Needless to say, Daryl's dick was in a permanent state of discomfort. She made an effort to shoot him a look that just begged him to take her, and he would feel himself swell uncomfortably within the confines of his jeans. She took this opportunity to stare pointedly at the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans before licking her lips, almost giving Daryl an aneurysm with every nymphomaniacal look. Her attempts at seducing him repeatedly urged him to rethink his decision to keep their relationship from Maggie. After all, even Maggie's wrath could not be as physically painful as restraining himself from Beth's gazes and soft touches. He needed that woman more than his heart needed blood.
One particularly difficult night, she'd been in the bathroom, showering. Daryl realised it was her as soon as he heard her singing emanating from behind the closed door. He knew better than to take one step closer, so he remained with his back to the wall in the corridor, waiting for her to finish. She took her damn time as if she knew he was standing only a few feet away from her. When she finally opened the door she was towel-drying her damp hair. The scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils and immediately made him reminisce about what they had done in that shower together.
She was wearing a pair of cotton shorts that were so small and tight they made Daryl's entire body ache for her.
"Sorry if I kept you waiting," she announced louder than she really needed to. He knew it was for Maggie's benefit instead of his.
"No problem. Is the bathroom free now?" he boomed, perhaps a little too loud as she rolled her eyes at his poor acting skills.
"Sure is! Goodnight, Daryl," she replied before taking a step towards him and rising up on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear.
"Think about me in the shower. I've just finished thinking about you," her hand reached up to him, her middle finger swiping across his lips as his pupils dilated with lust. He recognised that scent anywhere. It was her. That nectar he hadn't tasted for the longest time was all over her fingers. He vaguely registered the sensation of her tiny hand shoving something into his closed fist before she brushed past him and padded back to her bedroom.
He stared at the door as it swung shut, suddenly overcome with the urge to take off after her, to drag her into the bathroom with him, to rip those stupid cotton shorts off her body and sink into her tight heat, rutting into her until she was shaking and spent and drenched in both of their sweat.
Somehow he made it into the bathroom, his hands fumbling for the taps to turn on the warm water. He unfurled his fist to reveal a faintly familiar piece of fabric that was soaked in the same juices she'd just brushed across his lips. Oh, her panties. Of course she had given him the panties she'd worn as she'd rubbed herself to climax.
He could almost picture her standing in the exact same spot he was in, her fingers teasing at first but soon on a mission, disappearing behind the material of these panties as she brought herself to the edge. She'd been thinking about him. He wondered briefly what he'd been doing to her in her own imagination as she circled her own clit and mewled at the sensations. Was his face buried between her legs, licking and suckling and thrusting with his tongue relentlessly until her thighs clamped around him like a vice? Was he making love to her all gentle and sweet like she deserved? Or was he fucking her hard, the way he knew she secretly loved, his hands bruising that porcelein skin as he claimed her body as his own.
The second he stepped into the shower, his hand went directly to his dick, almost grunting aloud at the sensation he had been yearning for. He buried his nose in the scrunched up material of her panties, inhaling nothing but her sweet scent, filling his nose like honey as he stroked himself harder. He wanted Beth in here with him. He wanted her on her knees, her hot little mouth taking him all the way in until he hit the back of her throat, her head bobbing dutifully as he fisted his hands in her hair.
He wanted his calloused hand to be replaced with her soft one, to be thrusting into the velvety heat of her body instead of his right hand. His hand squeezed tighter as he attempted to recreate how she felt when she came around his cock, the way those walls clamped down on his entire length again and again, pulsing and milking and begging him to explode inside of her. Nothing could replace the way her body felt wrapped around his, but his hand was just enough to finish him off. He couldn't contain the name that escaped his trembling lips as he came hard, wishing that it was landing on her pretty face, her soft tits or her smooth backside instead of the shower floor.
He stood directly under the spray of the shower which was steadily turning colder by the minute. One hand braced his weight against the wall of the shower, the other slowly stroked his oversensitive length as he waited for his breathing to return to a normal rate. But the fire remained burning through his veins. He thought his little shower session would calm him, would expell some of the overwhelming desire he had for that woman in the bedroom down the hall. But if anything, it made the inferno burn hotter than before.
He dried himself off haphazardly, pulling on clean clothes before exiting the bathroom and checking the corridor for any sign of Maggie. He could hear Glenn's soft snores from downstairs, and the occasional clink of metal emanating from the kitchen confirmed Maggie's location. His heart thumped heavily in his chest, constricted with desire and fear of their discovery. He steeled himself and made his way as silently as humanly possible towards Beth's bedroom door.
He threw it open perhaps a little more dramatically than he needed to, and found her curled on her side, sleeping peacefully. It only took him five seconds of observation to realise that her breathing was uneven and that the corner of her mouth twitched microscopically as she tried to hide a smile. Without hesitation he ripped the sheet off her, exposing those ridiculously small cotton shorts that quickened his pulse. His hands grabbed her ankles, yanking her down the bed towards him as she suddenly abandoned her sleeping act in surprise.
"Hey-" she cried out, but was cut off at the sight of Daryl standing over her at the end of her bed, suspending her legs in the air and looking down at her as if she were prey.
"You think I'm in the mood to play a fucking game with you, Beth? Such a fucking cocktease, aren't you, love? I think you left these in the bathroom," one hand reached into the waistband of his boxers and pulled out the scrunched up pink panties, throwing them at her and watching them land on her chest with satisfaction.
"Did you stroke yourself?" she breathed, her hand trying in vain to reach the front of his boxers but her wrist was slapped out of the way.
"I'm more interested in what you did to yourself," he responded, his hands running up her thighs to grasp the fabric of those stupid little shorts and pulling them down her legs, leaving her naked from the waist down. She whimpered at the expression on his face as he slowly trailed one finger along her slit.
"Still so fucking wet, Beth. Is this all for me?" he glanced up at her mischeviously, waiting for her frantic head nodding.
The tip of his finger stopped at her clit, pausing for a moment before dragging some more of her moisture up to coat it, his finger making slow and teasing circles.
"How did you touch yourself?" he growled, his voice low and throaty.
"W-what?" She struggled to form a coherant sentence at the sensation of his hands on her there.
"In the bathroom. Did you tease yourself like this? Making yourself all nice and wet?" he continued to circle her clit with the pad of his middle finger, watching her closely to judge what she responded to. Her eyes closed of their own accord which he was not condoning.
"Look at me, Beth. Look at what I'm doing to you," her eyes shot open, a low whine in the back of her throat as her hips tried to buck against his hand, to obtain contact and pressure and pleasure.
"Ssh, love. I know you love it when I do this, but you have to keep quiet or else Maggie's gonna hear you screaming my name and when she comes looking for her baby sister, she'll find you in a compromising position won't she?" he finished his sentence just as he sank one finger deep into her heat causing her to writhe up against him.
"Is this how you touched yourself?" he languidly stroked his finger into her body, slowly adding a second digit, noticing the way her body tried to thrust against it, to fuck herself on his hand. He couldn't help to hold back the groan that escaped him at the sight of her desperation for pleasure. Fuck, she was so goddamn tight. He was constantly amazed that he managed to fit his cock inside of her when she was clenching so goddamn tight around two fingers. He curled inside of her, that legendary come-here motion that allowed him to press up against that little patch of nerves inside of her that made her clamp down even harder around him.
"Is this how you made yourself come, Beth?" he whispered, feeling a little lightheaded at the erotic nature of this entire situation. She shook her head forcefully as she struggled to say the right words.
"No! I c-can't r-reach it by - oh! - by myself," she stammered, her hips rising off the bed, begging him to curl his fingers faster and harder inside of her. Her croaky voice was more of a turn on than he'd bargained for, and he winced at the increasing pressure building in his boxers.
"That's right baby. I'm the only one that can do this to you," he groaned, his free hand moving to her clit to frantically circle it, knowing that if she didn't finish soon he was bound to rip off his pants and sink into her and this wasn't about him. This was about her.
"Oh god, yes, please don't stop," her eyes were closed now, and nothing could make her open them as her brain became frazzled with too many sensations all at once. It was too much, the pressure building inside of her, the slick fingers that were fucking her, rubbing her, bringing her closer and closer to that precipice with each passing second.
"Wanna see the look on your face when you-". He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence when Beth's back arched so far off the bed that he almost panicked for a moment before recognising the rhythmic pulsing around his fingers as her impending orgasm.
"Holy fucking shit," he grunted as he saw every muscle in her stomach tighten uncontrollably, her hips shaking as she tipped over the edge. He moved the hand that was circling her clit just quick enough to shove his fingers deep into her mouth before she screamed, biting down hard as she came. He kept his other hand between her legs, his index and middle finger buried in her impossibly tight heat, stroking that spot inside of her. It was only as she started to come down from her high that he noticed the copious amounts of sweet slippery fluid that covered her stomach, his hands and his chest.
He glanced up at her, her head thrown back in the pillows, her teeth still clamped down on his fingers, her chest heaving and her legs quivering.
"Beth," he whispered softly into the dark room. She let out a sigh that communicated that she was listening but just unable to produce her own speech.
"You squirted," he placed a kiss on her sticky stomach, inhaling the scent greedily.
She jolted upright with a look of panic and embarrassment on her face.
"I did what?" she gasped, her eyes taking in the slick fluids that covered both of them.
He chuckled at the look of shock on her face.
"Don't be embarrassed. It's not a bad thing. It's fucking sexy, actually," he placed an open mouthed kiss on the crease of her hip, licking at her skin as he did so.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. He pulled his damp shirt over his head before sliding his body up hers, their bodies slickened from her juices. She wrinkled her nose at him.
"You're getting it all over yourself," she moved to push him away but he silenced her with a long and passionate kiss.
"Ain't nothin' sounds better than smelling of you all day long. Knowing I did this to you. It's one of my proudest moments," he smiled bashfully down at her, relieved when a shy smile finally lit up her face.
"I thought I was gonna black out," she murmured, threading her fingers through his hair as he buried his face in her neck.
She turned her head as she heard Maggie moving around downstairs. Daryl was at the end of her bed in no time at all, grabbing his shirt from the floor and pulling it back over his head.
"Sweet dreams, princess," he whispered to her as he turned to leave.
"Wait! Aren't you gonna take a shower?" she grimaced at the sight of her juices covering his chest. He grinned like the cheshire cat, stalking back to her bedside before placing a long and slow lick up her body from the apex of her thighs to the hollow of her throat.
"I think I just did," he whispered in her ear, before turning away from her and pulling her bedroom door shut behind him and turning to find Maggie standing at the other end of the hall, a confused look on her face.
"Where's Beth?" she glanced back towards Daryl's room which was obviously empty.
"She's in there, sleeping," he gestured to the door he'd just come out of, aware that he was unable to bullshit himself out of that one.
"Is everything okay?" Maggie was looking him up and down like he was a psychopath. Granted, he was quite sure he looked like one at the moment.
"Yeah, it's all good. She just left her knife on the bathroom counter so I thought I'd return it in case she needs it." Admittedly this was quite a believable lie for Daryl, and he stood there hoping and praying that Maggie would accept it.
"Oh, okay. I was just gonna say goodnight but if she's already asleep..." she trailed off.
"Goodnight, Maggie." He was desperately trying to convince her to turn around and walk back downstairs as if this entire encounter had never happened.
"Glenn's been asleep for a few hours now, if you could come downstairs and help me turn him in a couple of hours, I'd appreciate it."
"No problem, Maggie. Just come and get me."
"Goodnight, then." She finally turned away from him, making her way back towards the staircase and far away from this terrible awkward situation.
He let out a breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding as he skulked off back to his room and crawled back into the cold sheets of the bed that smelt only of him and nothing like her.