Seven

She was gorgeous—all lean and soft in all the right places—with a hint of pink to her cheeks as she lay back on the bed. She pulled her legs up a little, raising her knees, as if shielding herself from him, despite what had just happened in the shower. She was still a bit reserved, fighting with a part of herself that she'd clearly been holding back for a long time. And he could see the way her hands trembled as she moved them down her stomach, breasts shaking softly with each gentle motion of her hands over her own flesh.

He gently parted her knees, stepping up alongside the bed, gaze passing over every bit of her from her sky blue eyes to her breasts to the patch of hair between her legs where he could see her glistening. Her scent filled him, and he immediately felt his pulse in his ears and in his dick. He'd imagined this a hundred times, and in this moment, he was certain it was a fantasy. He'd surely wake within moments to find himself back all those years ago with his dick in his hand and her name on his lips.

She was trembling, a far cry from the boldness he'd seen just now in the shower or last night at the bar. She was conflicted, he could see, and he hesitated then, hand smoothing down her thigh, gently squeezing her as if to tell her it was alright. This could stop now. It didn't have to go any further.

"It's ok," he said quietly. "We don't…" She shook her head then, reaching for him.

"I just needed a second," she offered, grabbing his hand, pulling him down over her. She smiled then, eyes bright and magnificent as his nose bumped against hers and her legs twined around his waist.

"We ain't gotta do this," he offered. She couldn't help but pout her lips before kissing him on the nose. Then her hand reached between them and curled around his dick once again.

"You sure about that?" she asked softly, voice as gentle as the rain. Daryl groaned then, burying his face against her freckled chest as she began to stroke him, squeezing him just enough to have his hips thrusting against her hand.

It felt better than he remembered from the shower, and now it was all he could do to hold himself back from gripping her hips and pushing into her. And while their talk at the bar the night before had hinted at rough, dirty sex, all he wanted was to make it last, to prolong the moment for memory's sake. Did she really know just how much he'd loved her back then? He'd loved her as much as he could love someone he didn't really know. He'd catch her glance in the hallway, look right into her eyes, and a part of him had just known this woman was the greatest love he'd ever know, which was probably why every woman he'd ever known in the past four years had left him feeling as if something was missing, as if he were incomplete somehow. He'd been convinced he was just turning into an asshole like his older brother, but the second he'd seen her on that bridge, it had been like a punch to the gut, like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs and replaced by that feeling he'd had just being near her all those years ago.

This was special. This was worth holding onto. This was much more than sex, even if maybe it wasn't for her.

"Do you have anything?" she asked then, words pulling him from the fog.

"Huh?"

"A condom, Pookie," she said with a giggle that made his heart want to tear in two. God, she was perfect.

"Oh. Uh…yeah." He cleared his throat then, pushing back against the mattress as she let go of his dick, painfully hard and slick with his own fluids. He wasn't quite sure he could walk in that moment, but he managed to move across the room as Carol propped herself up on her elbows.

She watched him, admiring the way the muscles moved in his back as he strode across the room, the curve of his spine, the way the water beaded off his dripping hair and down his back. She bit her lip, cocking her head to the side as she slid a hand down her chest and down between her legs, fingers parting her folds and coming back slick and warm. She moaned softly when she brushed over her clit, and Daryl turned, getting an eyeful.

"Hey, don't start without me," he said with a brave grin that made her heart flutter. What was it about this man that could make her knees turn to jelly and make her stomach do flips? She felt like she was seventeen again, struggling to pay attention in class because he was so near that she could smell his cologne or the sweet mint of whatever gum he would chew.

She remembered meeting Ed and thinking that there had to be better out there in the world than the one she let get away. She remembered feeling silly that she'd never grabbed at the opportunity to get to know Daryl a little better, but he was just one man, after all. Surely she wasn't missing out on much. And then she'd slept with Ed, felt more than a little underwhelmed, and it wasn't until after her divorce that she'd realized that there was so much more out there, and that there were men willing to satisfy her in a way her husband had never cared about.

As she watched him slide the condom over his dick, watched the way it stretched over him in a way that she began to throb down below, she knew she could convince him it was all about sex for her, but she'd be lying through her teeth. It would be so easy to lie, so easy to make believe. She'd had more than enough experience in that department. But the truth was that seeing Daryl Dixon again had awakened something long dormant inside of her. He wasn't this quiet, uncertain boy anymore. He was a man who still looked at her like the moon and stars were under her feet. One look from him, and she was at home. And that scared the hell out of her.

She swallowed hard as he crawled over her on the bed. She wanted him. Every part of him. She wanted to feel him inside of her, feel her body stretch around him. The fire in her belly grew stronger, hotter, and as he settled between her legs and began to suckle at her neck, she threw her head back and let every hesitation, every worry melt away that she might fall in far too fast and far too deep. She didn't care. This was the best she'd never had, and she could feel it as he sunk into her, filling her, pulling her under with him. Whatever spell had been cast, she never wanted to wake.

Her fingers moved along his back, and she relished the way his muscles moved and jumped under her gentle caresses. She closed her eyes, tightening her legs around his waist as he moved inside of her, stretching her, pulling almost all the way out before slamming home again, hips rocking against hers, pinning her to the bed, leaving her breathless and gasping, aching for more.

"Don't stop," she whispered when he'd hesitate and come up for breath before pressing kisses between her breasts, clasping her hands with his above her head, locking them against the mattress.

It was slow, sensuous, nothing like either of them expected, and it was so much more. And she'd kiss him, softly and slowly at first, and then her hands were on his chest, and she was urging him to his back. They separated for the briefest of moments before she straddled his hips, grabbed hold of him and slid down, savoring the moment as her knees dug into the mattress.

She closed her eyes, throwing her head back as she rode him, hands pressing against his chest as his fingers quivered at her hips. And then he surprised her, arching up, sitting as she pulled her legs around his waist. He held her close, hands gripping her hips, helping lifting her as she continued to ride him while sitting in his lap. She panted against his mouth, her soft mewls of pleasure turning into moans and cries as the flame rippled through her, singeing her from the inside out. She gasped against his lips, feet digging into the bed, into him, hands falling to the wayside as she began to go limp in his arms. And then he was falling over her, thrusting into her as he peppered kissing to her breasts, tasting the salt of her skin.

He screwed his eyes shut, breath coming in urgent, stuttered pants as she squeezed him tighter. And then she collapsed against the mattress feeling boneless as the warm wetness of her depths surrounded him. Then the bubble burst, and he cried out against her neck, moaning her name until every bit of energy was gone. And then he pulled away, collapsing next to her, eyes heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction as he struggled to remember how to breathe.

And then her hand found his, and the room darkened as the storm clouds rolled in. Thunder shook their little room of respite, and sheets of rain began to sting the roof and lull them into a sleepy, satisfied existence.

He pulled his arm around her, kissing her forehead as her fingers curled above his heart.

It wasn't supposed to be love, but damn it, neither one of them had seen this coming.