For those of you coming from Work Song: hey. For the rest of you: more smut. I don't have an excuse for writing this but I did and it's here. I don't really foresee anybody having a problem with that, though.
edit: this chapter is chaaaaaaanged.
When Daryl woke up the sun was coming in, having burned away the clouds. It took him a second to orient himself, the ceiling unfamiliar, the wallpaper an ugly, generic beige. He was on the floor, his neck sore from the angle, but then again so was everything. There was a rug covering the hardwood here that had felt nice enough when he'd gone to sleep, but now it felt uncomfortably scratchy wherever it touched him.
But the sun. That was wrong.
And then he remembered: Beth had taken first watch. She was supposed to wake him.
His eyes shot to awareness, looking to his side, half expecting to see her sleeping next to him, but she wasn't there at all. He sat up, adrenaline already pumping, but he only had to look to the windows to find her. She'd pulled up the blinds to get a better view of outside, but now she was looking at him, surprised at his sudden state and mildly amused. "Mornin'."
He nodded. His mouth was dry, and he rubbed his face while he tried to get a rope on all the rush of his panic. "What happened to wakin' me up?" he asked, annoyed. Now that he was awake, his body was protesting louder. He was all fucking kinds of hurting. His hips especially ached something fierce, but he only had to look at her to remember why. He could deal with it. They were no strangers to hurt anymore. There were never any breaks, couldn't toss back a couple advil when your head was hurting. There was just dealing with it. But this. He could deal with this.
"I tried," she said, shrugging, and she looked tired but not necessarily more than usual. "You're normally a light sleeper. So I figured you must've needed it."
He was a light sleeper. He couldn't remember it ever being different. "Should've done it anyways. Can't have you walkin' around with your eyes closed," he said, gesturing at her.
"I'm alright. I don't sleep much anyways." She'd put shoes on already. "When do you want to go?"
"Go where?" he asked, trying to get the energy to stand. He was fucking hungry, too, and so fucking sore, and irritated that he'd been sleeping all night.
She frowned. "You said you had somewhere to take me," she reminded him. "We're pretty good on stuff," she said, going over to the couch and sitting down. "I checked while you were sleeping. We're alright on food." She paused, looking at him, still like he was doing something vaguely funny. "We could probably both get clean, at some point."
He could only grumble, stretching out. These were all good things, and he could recognize them as necessary. But also, they could just lay here. For a while, at least. She could sleep and maybe he could, too.
But he'd told her he would take her somewhere, and he'd even been kind of excited about it. So he could do that, today, and maybe sleeping would come later. For both of them.
She'd leaned back, tracing the edge of the table with the pad of her index finger, kicking up dust as she went. She looked disappointed, almost, and he realized that he'd done that. That she'd been excited about going, that they'd had a plan and he hadn't remembered and that had hurt her, somehow. She stood up, energy down, and watched her pick up one foot to rub at the back of her calf, standing so tall and graceful and moving as slow as the dust that floated in the sun streaked air.
"Fine, but I ain't carryin' ya," he said, and finally made himself get up, ignoring the way everything in him fought to get back down.
She heard him move and looked up, framed by pinky gold, hair messy around the collar. "Good," she said, crossing one leg over the other and swaying as she gave him a satisfied smile. "Then let's do breakfast."
That was something she'd done in the prison, when things had gotten more settled. Not just food whenever they could find it, but a schedule. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Forcing in whatever normalcy she could, a routine just to make a prison feel more like home. "Alright. Breakfast."
So they took care of that, gathering up the bottles from outside after they were done, which didn't even turn out to be useful because not five minutes later while they searched inside the cupboards near the desks she was pulling out a carton of water bottles. Most of them still there, too, and she picked up a couple of them out and smiled like she'd just struck gold.
"We can use these," she said, standing up straight and looking down where he was kneeling, already grabbing some and putting them in his bag.
He stared up at her, missing something. "That's the idea, yeah."
"No, I mean for cleaning. For getting clean."
Oh. Right. That.
"There's a bathroom down the hall," she said, and then took his bag from him, putting it on the desk out of his reach. "We should. Before we go."
He wrinkled his nose, but already he was losing this fight. He felt like he'd missed it entirely. He leaned against the counter space, shrugging. "Thought you were in a hurry."
"This won't take long," she said. "We can go after."
He waved her along. "Knock yourself out."
She gave him a quick grin before she was gone, walking off and turning the corner, a little sway in her hips that'd been completely absent when they were on rockier ground outside.
Or maybe he hadn't noticed. He was noticing all kinds of things lately.
He kicked off the counter when he was alone, making an easy circle around the room, but there wasn't much to look at. Smokey bear on the wall warning him about forest fires, a shelf with brochures. He'd been out here two minutes and he was bored without her.
"So how long is it gonna take to get there?" she asked him, voice echoing down the hallway. "Wherever 'there' is."
"Don't matter if we never fuckin' leave," he grumbled, kicking back on the couch. He'd already torn through everything and there wasn't jack shit to look at. Not even a fucking book.
She didn't answer, which he figured was fair. He let himself slide further down the cushions til his ass was nearly hanging off the edge, eyeing the frame and watching her stretched out shadow as it moved along the floor, the occasional drips and splashes.
It was maybe five more minutes before she spoke again. "You should get cleaned up, too," she said, and then she was in the doorway so she could look at him, smiling a little when she saw how he'd set himself up. She'd left her shorts off, her legs long even from his perch. "It's pretty nice in here." And then, when he still didn't move, she waved him over impatiently. "C'mon. It's your turn."
She disappeared inside again, only her shadow visible. So he stood up, walking over to the bathroom, pausing in the doorway. Two stalls, wallpaper some slightly less ugly variant of the main room, a metal cabinet on the far wall, sinks and a counter, some long dead potted plant in the corner. She'd placed herself sitting next to the sink with her legs swinging, her shorts crumpled near the tap and a little damp in some spot she'd evidently tried to clean. Her shirt was sticking to her where her skin was still damp, the hair on her neck clinging wet "Ain't like no police bathroom I been in before," he said, passing by her and going over to the cabinet to see if there was at least something useful in there. He pulled out one of the baskets, jumbling it around. Band aids, mostly. Another one with pens and kleenex.
A third with a couple of loose condoms scattered amongst what looked like tissues and more band aids.
He shoved that one back on the shelf, pretending like he hadn't seen it at all.
"Nothin' really in there, I checked," she said as she watched him root around. Which meant she'd seen too, probably. "It's not a police station. It's a ranger station. You know, for hikers and stuff?"
"Whatever. Figures," he said, looking at the walls. She was telling the truth: it wasn't too shabby in here, even ignoring the shelf. She'd dumped the water bottle into the sink, closing the plug and using it as a basin. The water had turned murky, the hand towel she'd used dirty and folded neatly to the side. "Shit, wanna do their laundry, too?"
"Quiet," she said, nudging him with an outstretched foot. "We shouldn't leave it worse than we found it."
He looked at her, not really knowing what to make of that. "You done?"
She nodded, her mouth opening in a yawn that pulled exhaustion all over her face. She looked suddenly tired, blinking as she opened the drain to let the water out. "Yeah. I'll just -" she said, and hopped down, looking up at him when she was back on her feet. "I'll wait," she finished, grabbing her shorts and leaving, pulling the door almost shut behind her.
He listened until her footsteps were gone, then pulled the door back open. Just in case. They hadn't done much of anything with closed doors so far. Wasn't too set on starting now. He could be there, if she needed him.
So he set on doing what he was supposed to, refilling the sink, and once he got started it wasn't that bad. The water was alright, and the towel was even kind of soft, and she was right again. It wasn't that bad. He washed his hair in the sink, too, because why the fuck not, and stepped outside when he was done, calling her name.
She didn't answer, and once he'd walked forward it was easy to see why: she was asleep. Laying on her back, her face turned to the sun like she was searching for it, chest moving gently with deep breaths of calm. He stood there, debating on what he was supposed to do. She'd wanted to leave, and he should probably get her up and get them moving. They shouldn't just linger here.
But looking at her, he didn't really want to get moving, and looking at her he thought things seemed kind of alright. She could sleep and they didn't have to go right now and maybe everything was gone but they were alone together and that seemed more important, now.
So he fell in next to her like she'd done the night before, on his back some inches away, her head turned to the window and his turned to her. He couldn't sleep but he could rest, could lay here and smell both of them clean enough for the scent of soap to come through - she was going three for three; he did feel better just not having dirt caked into every crease - and he could listen to her breathing keeping time and the air around him. He could relax.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt relaxed. Not just in his muscles, but in his head. Like there wasn't anything else he needed to be doing. Not even worrying.
It was alright.
When she woke it was afternoon, the sun coming in hot through the windows and baking them both. She stirred gently, nothing like the rude awakening he'd given himself that morning, her mouth opening as her fingers twitched. Her head turned in his direction, and when she opened her eyes he was already looking.
She didn't say anything for a few seconds, seeming to gather herself as she took him in. "Your hair," she said, blinking slowly.
"Yeah?"
She reached out to touch it, smoothing it back from his forehead. "It's wet."
"S'what happens when you wash it," he said, and she was still looking at him like she wasn't really awake enough to put the pieces together and it was kind of cute. There wasn't another word for it, and he didn't see a need to try and find one.
"Oh." She took her hand back, looking outside before looking back at him with an accusing expression. "You were supposed to wake me up."
He shrugged. "You were supposed to wake me up, too, girl."
"Girl," she repeated slowly, looking at him before looking towards the ceiling. "Can we still go?"
"Yeah, if we get a move on," he said, tracing along her profile, watching her eyes as they flicked all over. He looked up, too, but couldn't see what had caught her attention. "Why you wanna go so bad?"
"I'm curious, I guess," she said. "I think it's good to be curious about things."
He chanced another look at her. "I guess."
She reached over, taking his hand where it sat on the floor before sighing, stretching up in a little curve that pulled her back off the floor in an arch and brought both their hands above her head, her breasts pushed out and her shirt raised high. "I'm kinda sore."
Her and him both. He felt something kind of stirring sleepily, and he swallowed, trying to back it down before it started. He let her play with his hand absently when she brought it to a rest on her stomach, running her finger one by one over his. "Could go tomorrow," he offered quietly. "It ain't goin' nowhere."
She glanced at him, surprised. "You? You wanna stay?"
"Didn't say I want to. Just said we could." Her hand running up his wrist now, gentle little scratches more absentminded than anything else, but it felt good. Good like the water, good like her voice, good like watching the new ways she kept moving. He realized, almost suddenly and to his vague surprise, that he wanted her again. Not like the feeling had come back, but like it had never really left, stained all over his memory. He wasn't hard, and his blood wasn't rushing through his ears and erasing his thoughts, but he was thinking about her and all the different ways this weirdly lazy afternoon could go and he just wanted her. Almost as absently as her fingers stroking along his arm.
"Daryl, we're leavin'," she said, but she was smiling. "We're in a hurry, remember?"
"Fine. You get on up and I'll follow," he said, withdrawing his hand from her, but she caught it. She looked around, one leg bending like she was going to get up, but then it was back down, defeated.
"We're leavin'," she said again, but she was still smiling and she still had his hand and he just kind of knew they weren't going anywhere. Not today. He was completely okay with that.
He didn't answer at first, because she was laying there in her underwear with her legs just miles and miles of sinewy muscle, her pointed toes pulling them taut as she stretched again, and there weren't any words. There were just beats of color forming, bright reds pulsing low. "Nah."
She rolled over onto her side, tucking her hands under her cheek and flicking an eyebrow up. "No?"
He shook his head, letting his hand inch across the short distance to touch her arm. "Nuh uh."
She smiled wider, and then she even laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls as it filled the room and his own lungs while her legs pulled herself closer. She reached out her own hand, lips parting as her fingers traced over his chest, her leg falling over his own as she nestled like a kitten into his side. "You remember how I said you'd changed?"
He frowned a little while he looked over at her, letting her explore. So gentle, ghosting little designs on his sternum, her leg hitching up higher on his hips so that his fingers could stroke along her thigh. Easy. Touch for touch.
The weather wasn't settled outside, a gust of wind making the wall creak and the branches outside flutter shadows over them both. She looked behind her to glance out the window, a flash of sun catching her face before she turned back to focus on him. "I meant like this, too," she whispered. "I remember. Back at home, on the farm. You set up way off. Even in the prison you wouldn't sleep where everyone else did," she said, and looked at him while she gathered herself even closer to him, picking up his hand and drawing it behind her neck so that she could put her head on his shoulder. "You didn't even hug me back. You never would've done this."
He paused to think about it, because he honestly just hadn't. Hadn't thought about what was different, only knew that it was. Had thought of plenty of reasons of why he shouldn't like any of it, but he had exactly zero thoughts for why he did. Even now it was fine, and he wasn't panicking or worrying or even thinking about much at all except that her hair felt soft where it brushed on his neck. That her hand felt good as she drew her patterns on him, that he was nicely warm where she laid on top of him, and still those reds painting over everything. He shrugged, not sure what else to say. "Said you liked me touchin' you."
"That's not what I asked," she said, shaking her head, placing little spirals down his stomach. "What changed your mind?"
Another shrug that he couldn't even help, because he really did want to give her something, an answer that wouldn't disappoint. Touching her was easier, yeah, but talking was worse. As if he'd been any good at it to begin with. She'd just look at him, and he didn't think she meant to but she'd shuffle around all the words in his head until he was left with nothing but disjointed thoughts. Especially when it was like this, with nothing else to do and her focus all on him. "Dunno. Just did."
"Maybe I'm different, too." He didn't know if she could sense that there really wasn't more to get out of him or if she was just tired of two word answers, but she didn't follow up with anything else and still the exploration continued. Up her thigh and back, tracing along the edge of her underwear and then with his hand behind her her back, little bumps of her spine, and she was relaxing into him and he was relaxing back and he didn't know what this was but he had enough sense to know he didn't want it to stop.
His fingertips traced lightly over her hip and then up her side, ghosting and practically not there at all, but then she stiffened before she squirmed away, her stomach sucking in while she danced to avoid his fingers. He gave her a general "what the fuck" look, and she turned onto her back before sighing.
"I'm ticklish," she said, like she was trying to be casual, but she was definitely not looking at him anymore and this was already kind of interesting.
"Ticklish?" he asked, and she was still laying on his arm so it was easy to bend his elbow and bring her back to his side. "Ain't seemed ticklish."
Still not looking at him, crossing her arms, mouth teasing around a grin. "You want proof or somethin'?"
She had to know it was coming, her whole body shrinking away before he was on her and his hands were on her ribs and he was straight up tickling her, making her legs kick up defensively and her lungs emptying into a shriek before she was laughing again, trying uselessly to push him off.
"Stop stop stop, I hate this, I hate you," she cried, trying uselessly to grab at his fingers before her hands turned to fists to push up hard against his chest as his arm around her kept her to him. He could stop her. He didn't even think it would be hard, because even though she had nearly knocked him off his feet in the yard he was at a serious advantage here. He could pin her hands down in his and make her squirm some more and as soon as that thought crossed his mind he was doing it, both her hands above her head, and when he eased down and kissed her she was still smiling.
He didn't really ever want her to stop.
But she wasn't laughing anymore, her legs making their way around him as he released her hands and kissed her just as lazily as he'd touched her, tasting her mouth and then her newly cleaned neck as her hands flattened on his chest to caress him down his stomach. She was still breathless, and he felt her her lungs working hard against him, her head tipping back over his arm when he finally reached the base of her neck, hips pivoting gently up into his as his hand skated more smoothly up her ribs. It was the easiest thing. Easy to touch her. Easy to place her just right. Easy to put up his hand to the side of her neck and easier to kiss her, her body rocking up to meet him, her fingers grabbing onto his hips.
She broke away, head falling lax against his arm as she looked at him with lidded eyes, an eyebrow crooked up again as her mouth curved into a self satisfied smile before falling open. Even for being in the sun, her skin felt hot to his hands as he pulled her shirt up, her shoulders lifting to get it off her.
Half of him was back in that tent, with the moon shining off her hair and her skin with her arms wrapped around him. The similarities weren't lost on him, but this time she was painted in gold and the sun caught her eyes as she moved her hand on top of his, encouraging it along her until his palm was on her breast. She took a breath, moving almost imperceptibly beneath him, still looking at him with her hair a mess and there was almost a smile as he ducked back down to her neck.
He moved slowly, tasting the spot below her jaw and the long dip down her throat, the little falls of her collarbone and then there were her tits waiting and his mouth between them. Unhurried and easy all along the underswell, her hip bones pulling against her skin and her pants falling a little looser as her next break sucked her stomach into her spine. He used that extra room, getting his fingers into her jeans and he felt her watching as he shimmied them down her hips, her legs straightening out so she could kick them off. He pulled his arm free from behind her head so he could sink along with them, because her tits were soft but so was the rest of her, mouthing over marks long healed on her stomach as one of her hands made its way to the back of his head. He grabbed her underwear and then those were gone, too, his nose skimming her thighs as he pulled them off her, and he'd never done this before. Never undressed anyone like this, like he could take his time and like all he wanted to see was more, and she was so pretty that it actually kind of fucking hurt to look.
He didn't think he'd realized that before. How new this was. He was so close, her legs still closed but there were little blonde curls and a sliver of pink hinting out between her lips, and, really, considering everything, it was weird how unfamiliar this was. He glanced up at her and immediately wished he hadn't; looking up at her was a hell of a different view, and she was looking down at him, not nervous but clearly a little anxious, biting at her lip with her hands hovering unsure near his head, and he took a little comfort in that. A kiss on her leg and then his tongue, too, just to see, but then she was pulling him to her so his face was against the apex of her thighs, his forehead pressed at the bottom of her stomach. He smiled, letting another kiss fall at the top of that patch of curls, but then he was back up to her, his shadow nearly covering her as her face came back into his view. Her hands were ready for him and so was her mouth and her tongue and her tits for his fingers, and soon enough his shirt was off and then so was everything else, everything getting kicked to a pile at their feet.
He was hard against her stomach, her hands teasing around his stomach and her legs folding around him so she could grind herself up against his thigh in little tracks that were leaving his skin wet and her breath peaking into shrill little noises in his ear. He reached down, squeezing at the insides of her thigh before he gave that up and just cupped her before she could work herself on him any further.
Single minded now, leaving precome smeared on her hip when he rutted into her like she was doing on his hand. This was everything. He didn't feel the bite of the carpet on his knees, the way she made him ache all over her skin, little needles of her nails on his side. He wanted her, and this. He wanted it so damn bad that he didn't even know what to do with himself, the whole feeling pervasive and foreign and itching through his fingers. "Beth," he said, just her name because for a second that's all there is, rubbing up along her until he could find her clit and make her jump. "I want you. I can't -" he said, but then her hand was on him giving his whole length a firm tug, and he was going to dissolve into her hands without a damn thing he could do to stop it.
"Wait," she said, and there was a hand at his cheek turning him into her, pressing her forehead against his. "Don't be weird or anythin' but I -" his hand was still smoothing along her, rubbing her in time with her fingers playing with him lightly, and she kissed him again with her mouth weak with whimpers for him. She pulled off again, reaching into his hair not to pull but to stroke, brushing the strands that had been falling into her face behind his ear before she was reaching back behind her. "My shorts," she said, and when she couldn't reach them he did it for her, his hand passing hers easily to grab them from off the table. She took them from him, giving him a break while she fiddled around checking the pockets until she pulled out what she was looking for.
A condom. So she had seen, and she'd taken one. Which struck him as kind of funny. "The fuck, girl?"
She turned pink, hitting his chest. "I told you not to be weird. I found them in there and I just thought -" She actually seemed flustered. Which was pretty nice, for once, not being the one trying to explain and just failing utterly and making things worse in the process. "Well I wasn't wrong, was I?"
He snorted, and she pushed against him again but his attention was already elsewhere, shoving his hand back down between her legs straight to her clit just to watch her face screw up all tight, the condom dropping from her fingers to her chest. She nodded her head before throwing it back and closing her eyes, and when he looked back down she was pressing her hips towards him. Back and forth slowly over her, watching and hearing her get wetter, seeing her legs try to spread for him, her hips almost twisting away so that he had to hold her down with a flat hand on her stomach. He listened to her breathing change, a throaty quality pulsing into the unsteady motion of her lungs.
She was so reactive, little ripples all over like dipping his fingers into water, and there were so many places to touch her. But there was this. Just looking. Watching her hips thrust towards him, the desperate bowing of her thighs that got her more open for him, the frantic snap of her hips as he traced her in circles. He dipped back towards her entrance only to retreat again, taking the condom before it could slide off her shoulders, tearing it open with his teeth.
Years. Straight up fucking years since he'd put one of these on, but he took it out and rolled a little off her to slide it in place and then letting his hand find her again, the heat radiating off of her and out of her addicting. Her legs fell lax, her feet finding the floor so she could chase his fingers, her hand reaching back down for him, opening her eyes when she felt the condom already there.
And then she was grabbing hold of him anyways, almost too hard, shifting her hips and sliding him along herself until she found where he could press easily inside, and they both made the same noise at opposite octaves when he didn't have anymore of himself to give her. There were a few seconds that he allowed, feeling her stretch so easily around him and letting her feel the same, her hips sliding just right, and then he was gone, touching two fingers along her thigh so that she'd open even more. He didn't want to fuck her fast, not this time, and when he pressed back into her it was slow so they could both feel it. He wanted her to feel it. Make them both sore all over again, and he started a flow that had her taking him so deep that his pelvis went almost flat against her every time he slid home. His mouth was busy touching every square inch of her breasts and he found a mark on them that he thought he might've left behind, and he didn't even know from when it was but he went back over it to renew the sting and make it last with one of those bites that made everything in her tighten. Kisses down her neck, down her shoulder, and he wanted to taste her fucking everywhere, wanted to see where she was saltiest and where her skin was smoothest, her body drawing him in and keeping him there.
He bit more gently at the tendon in her shoulder that stood taut as her arm strained with its grip on the edge of the rug. She pulled at it even harder, pushing her hips up into him until her heels slid along the carpet under the pressure, making her land back to the floor with a quiet thud. She whined in frustration, wrapping her legs around him, her heels egging him on.
And he could give her that, if he was so inclined, could follow the push of her legs. But, really, he could also not, and he was seeing the options all over again. He liked that. No, he fucking loved that, fucking loved her body under him, newfound appreciation and praise and mercy riddling into his thoughts as he licked her neck and mouthed his teeth at her her jaw.
He heard her gasp as he bottomed out, nails making little scratching sounds as she found the hardwood floor while she grasped wildly for nothing. He didn't move except to press whatever millimeters into her that he could, forcing her to feel him as much as he was feeling her. Every second inside her made it worse for them both, edging higher and higher towards nothing, and he gave himself a few seconds reprieve to listen to her unintelligible little murmurings before pulling out to surge back inside her just as deep as before, hard enough that her whole body slid back away from him on the floor. Not fast, no, but powerful, power in his hips, in his muscles and in his limbs, power in making her legs twitch in a little spasm, power in her saying his name like she was begging for something. Which she was, begging for him, begging for more of what he was doing to her, and that just fucking did something for him.
But the sliding on the carpet. That was actually an issue he was going to have to fix. So he adjusted himself so that he was more over her, putting his elbows on the floor right above either of her shoulders so his hands could slick her hair out of her face, his forearms framing the sides of her head. He felt like he was towering over her, just a complete eclipse, so small and soft and smooth underneath him, and that just made him harder, his cock jumping so that he had no choice but to fuck into her again.
And there she was, grabbing at him and whispering and sweating, and he felt a little ripple of pride. Pleasure. Actual physical pleasure, and his hips actually rutted with the suddenness of the intensity so that he lost his beat, and right as she whimpered he growled, an angry noise that he accompanied with a slick thrust back inside. He put his whole body into it, his spine straightening and pushing himself inches taller as he watched her face from his new vantage point, listened to the wet sound of her spreading and sucking him in with a tightness and warmth that was past familiar to him. She was biting her lip hard enough that her teeth were leaving dents, taking such deep draws of breath that he could see her ribs on every exhale, and he groaned as another shock ripped through him, because there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he was good at this. Good with her. That making her drench his skin and twitch and heave for air was suiting him just fine. And, again, it was different. Good different. Perfect different. Just as perfect as the last. It was so good. His knees were aching, his back was sore, his arms were tense, and it was so fucking good.
She came back to herself a little, her hands grabbing his elbows while she wiggled her hips a little deviously, her thighs stroking along his sides. Harder, this time. Slow, but he knew he was strong and he knew she could feel it, him driving into her hard enough for her whole body to push against his arms at her shoulders. This time, when he withdrew his hips, she was right where she had been before, so open and hot and ready to pull him back in. His strokes picked up faster, as fast as he could manage without losing any depth inside of her, her shoulders crashing into the barrier of his arms. Waves against a wall, over and over, pulling and receding only to roar again. She'd been grabbing at the carpet but now she was pulling at the undersides of her knees, bringing her legs up so her knees were almost to her chest, practically bent in half. When he pushed home again, he felt that dragging sensation, so wet that it was almost too slick to tell. But she jerked, her whole body clenching inwards as she winced and pushed out a breath that ended in a helpless noise. She pulled her head up as best as she could, and then she was watching him fuck her, her breaths broken and shallow.
She left her knees so that they splayed out, legs bouncing with everything else, grabbing for his shoulders and the back of his neck to pull him down to her, her forehead pressed to his, and his already unsteady hips faltered as he pushed so deep he could feel himself being branded from the inside out. He reached between them, feeling with one hand along her stomach, trying to think. Trying to guess where he'd felt himself push on her, where his cock had dragged that reaction out of her. A little below her belly button didn't give him anything on his next stroke, so he tried again, pushing the heel of his palm down above her pubic bone, and yes. That was it. She tried to squirm away, but his arm above her had her trapped, her legs kicking out along the floor and her whole body seizing as her hand clawed at his.
"Too much, too much, I don't -" she said, and he only got one more thrust in before she was pulling his hand off, breathing in deep when she was free. She closed her eyes, holding his hand, readjusting herself. "I don't want -"
She didn't finish, just mouthing the words, and he leaned in closer, smiling at what he'd learned and how boneless he'd made her. "Don't want what?"
"Dunno. You know," she tried, but he was still fucking her and she couldn't even speak and that was pretty much the most amazing thing that had happened to him since the last time he'd done this. "Don't want it to be over. Not yet."
He held himself just outside of her, his head dropping to her shoulder. She didn't want to come yet. She wanted him to keep fucking her. He could do that. She let her hands fall to his back, shuddering as he chose that moment to push back into her, both of their breaths catching. He stroked into her again, hearing the way her breath changed, her hand falling limp on his ribs. She clenched around him, her breathing and muscles picking up along with his rhythm, and soon he had forgotten everything, his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up. He mouthed more of those words she liked to hear against her jaw, how good she felt and how badly she was making him want to come, his teeth catching on her skin.
She hummed her approval, and it slowly turned into a little sigh as she pushed her hands up behind his neck, hooking them there. She pulled herself up so that he slid out of her, the whole of her chest meeting his, and bit at his lip before kissing him with a loose, frail smile. He didn't know what she was doing but he didn't think he would care, letting her hand skim its way down his sternum and stomach until she was at his pelvis, placing light, torturous scratches of her nails through the hair there. She itched down closer to his cock, and didn't stop until he was jerking his hips desperately towards her touch.
"C'mon," he sobbed, the tables turned. "What're you - Beth - ?" he asked, lurching as much as his hips. He dropped his head to her collarbone, kissing the salty dew that had gathered between her breasts when she finally wrapped her hand around him.
"I wanna try something. Like before," she whispered, and he didn't know what she was talking about but he also couldn't think of any of the words necessary to ask as she passed her hand up his shaft before letting him go to place her palm flat on his lower stomach. She pushed there gently, and he followed her lead, his arms pushing himself up until she seemed satisfied. Not even a second later, she was taking advantage of that space, using it to turn easily onto her stomach. She looked back over her shoulder with a pleased expression, wiggling her ass back to meet him.
There were pink little marks on her shoulders where she'd fallen against the carpet, the same ones he imagined were on his knees and elbows. He allowed himself to fall back on top of her to cover them, blanketing himself over her, every line of her bones felt easily against his chest. He caught a face full of hair at the nape of her neck, and pushed through it until he could plant his mouth there. "Warn me next time, girl," he groaned, and snaked his arms between her and the floor, letting one of his hands palm her breast.
"It worked, didn't it?" she asked throatily, her body undulating in small, gentle waves beneath him.
His lips found the knob of her spine, and he kissed her there, too, squeezing her breast and pushing his hand down her stomach, feeling the ridges of her ribs and hip bones until he was at the top of her thighs. She was breathing fast again already, her legs spreading what small amount they could between his, his cock fitting against the crack of her ass. "You tell me," he told her, hand moving from her thigh to the side of her hip around to her ass where he gave a sharp squeeze that elicited a surprised "hmph" sound from her.
He only had to move a couple more inches to find her cunt with his hand, and he held her there, letting his fingers spread her and feeling her rut into him, her forehead bumping against the floor as her head fell and her shoulder blades jutted into his chest. He rubbed her like that, and just because he could he didn't even touch her clit, gathering more and more wetness until her hips were twisting away and her hair stuck to the sweat on her back, his own cock forgotten. When he felt like even he'd had enough, he pushed two fingers into her heat until he was knuckle deep. She stiffened, her back going straight before she freaked out a little, her toes trying to find traction to push away while she pressed dry whimpers into the carpet. She was too good, and the noises she was making were too much, and he just couldn't relent, didn't even cut her a break, turning his wrist to fuck her on his hand. She was so wet, his fingers working her squelching and audible even over her muffled noises. His whole palm was wet with her, and he was a fucking jackass but she was beautiful and he loved giving this to her.
"Thassit, thassit," he slurred, feeling almost drunk off of her. His arm was starting to ache and so was his cock still pressed against her wiggling ass but it was alright because from his position at her neck he could hear what she was saying, the words that came out between the mindless whimpers, and more often than not it was his name. His name off her lips, his hands on her, and it was going to be him that made her fall apart. "Christ, Beth. Fucking Christ."
He couldn't see her face but he felt when she was about to come, the sudden silence and stillness, the tight rotations of her hips, and if he was going to be a jackass he might as well go all the way so he pulled his hand out of her, leaving her to sag from the onslaught. She was too spent to even complain about the denial, her hips still bouncing in little aftershocks of almost, and he was almost as breathless as she was. He was still over her, wrapped around her like a blanket, and he kissed the curve of her shoulder with what little strength he could muster to try and soothe her, using his soaked fingers to draw the same shapes she'd drawn on his chest before. "Feel that?" he asked, and she nodded her eyes closed, humming.
But then they opened wide, and she raised her hips in a search for relief. She turned her head so her cheek was against the floor, lines of effort appearing in her raised brow. "That wasn't fair."
He smiled. "Thought you said you didn't wanna come yet," he said, and it was at least fifty percent bullshit because his hips were pressing evenly against her looking for friction of their own and he had less than no control over the situation, but she opened her mouth indignantly and this was just kind of fun. "Didn't know you was so impatient for it."
But even if he was a jerk he wasn't that mean, so he reached under her for his cock and held himself steady as he finally got inside of her again, squeezing her breast to keep from coming just from the feel of her tight heat welcoming him in once again. Her feet kicked out in an involuntary twitch once he went deep, all her nerves a live wire ready to react. This wasn't going to be long for either of them, which was probably for the best, because even if he wanted to he didn't think he could fuck her in any way other than hard and thoroughly.
It didn't take long to set a new rhythm. She made it so easy, egging him on with her words and her hips pushing up to meet him, her muscles squeezing him every time he was inside. He got her nipple between his fingers and squeezed, watching her face as she shoved it to the side to open her mouth in an expression that was stuck somewhere between shock and pain. He got up into her ear again, let his teeth skim at the shell of it. "You gonna come like this?" he asked, and he didn't even know what he was saying, shit just falling out his mouth.
He dropped her hip so that he could get a hand in her hair again, and he none too gently pulled her head up towards him so that she was arched and taut and her cunt went so tight that he didn't even know if he was going to be able to make it back in. He pushed her leg further apart with his own, and it had to be hurting her but he didn't care because his cock was fucking pulsing inside of her.
He hadn't even finished before she was there before him, her pale face overcome with pink and her mouth grasping for words. he could practically see the waves of her pleasure as they made their way from where he sat inside her, rippling in smooth undulations up the muscles of her stomach and breasts all the way to her face that she had pointed up towards the sun. Her hips circled and jerked with it, her whole body free, her arms falling limp by her side as she rode it out, only contained by his hold all over her, and her cunt was clenching to milk him dry and everything about her was perfect.
It wasn't but five seconds later that he couldn't stand it anymore, white hot flashes all over his skin, and then just whiteness, taking over his vision and overshadowing everything as he felt her literally pull his finish out of him. He braced his hand on her hips, his fingertips digging in harder than he had control to stop as he emptied himself inside her, and even with a condom there was something about that that made it better.
And then quiet, besides the ringing in his ears and their breathing that matched in its desperation for oxygen. He rested back on his heels, his eyes still closed, as he felt himself begin to go soft inside of her. It took him a couple seconds to open his eyes and survey the damage: Beth beneath him, looking almost broken, her eyes closed and her skin wet with sweat from them both, aftershocks more akin to tidal waves making her arm twitch out.
He allowed himself a few seconds before he pulled himself out of her, rolling to her side and taking the condom off, tossing it somewhere near the vicinity where he thought he might've remembered there being a trash can. He would check later. Still drunk with her, thoughts sated and senses dull, all of him spent and drained. He was fucking bare assed naked, his cock and fuck it, his pelvis and his thighs all wet from her, the air turning cool on his damp skin, but he didn't give a shit. Was too tired to give a shit about anything right now.
She propped herself up on her elbows before shifting over to him, crossing her leg over his so that their limbs alternated, her cunt settling on his thigh. She put her head against his neck, reaching her arm over his chest, and just like that they were back in the same position they'd been in this morning. Again, she was warm on top of him, giving a little protection from the air, and, again, he didn't really feel like there was a need to stop it from happening.
He thought back to what she'd asked him before, about touching her and what had changed, and he thought that touching her again might should've given him an idea of an answer, but he was coming up empty. None of this made sense. Nothing should've been like it was.
She slid a finger along his jaw to tilt his face back up, pulling his thoughts and attention to her above him. "Where'd you go?" she asked quietly, stroking his cheek with the tips of her fingers.
He caught her hand in his, holding it to his mouth. She smelled like sex. "M'fine. Just thinkin'."
She settled into his chest, her chin resting on his sternum. "Yeah? Thinkin' about what?"
"Just thinkin'," he repeated, staring back at the ceiling before his eyes drifted close. He was waiting for the inevitable follow up, but she seemed as spent as he was.
"We're leavin' tomorrow," she said, almost chastising. "No arguin'."
He almost laughed, the feeling of it pooling in his chest before he just breathed it out. "Tomorrow."
Yeah. They could leave tomorrow.
what is this place? we'll never know (jk by the time you read this the next chapter will probably be up).
