Hello! I had a guest review the other day asking if I was planning on posting another long story like I used to back in the day. I do have a couple of those in the works. It's just a matter of finishing them so I can post. But They're at least there. Sitting patiently while I keep starting new ones. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading! =)
Chapter Nine
He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, both lying on top of the comforter, arms crossed over their stomachs, neither saying a word. He felt bad. He felt bad about having to leave and he felt bad because it seemed like the thought of him leaving really bothered her. He didn't make friends easily. Hell, there had never really been a reason to make friends because him and Merle never stayed in one place for very long. Keeping to himself was just easier.
"Are you asleep?" she whispered.
He looked over at her. "No."
She rolled then so she was pressed into his side even more. Normally he didn't like someone in his space so much, even women, but it was different with her for some reason. He didn't really want to think about it because thinking about it would only put him in a deeper funk than he was already in.
"Can I ask you something?" she asked, her finger suddenly drawing patterns onto his stomach, her touch was feather light and caused goosebumps to break out over his skin.
"I guess." Would she ask him to stay? And if she did would he do it?
"Were you and your mom close?"
He frowned, his brows pulling down low. He didn't understand why the hell she was so curious about a dead woman. "Why the fuck you wanna know about that kind of shit?" he asked, a bit more harshly than he intended to.
Her fingers stilled and he could feel her body tense up and he cursed himself for snapping at her. Not long ago she'd been in a seriously bad relationship and probably had to be on constant alert, scared to say the wrong thing, scared of doing the wrong thing, always wondering what was about to jump out at her.
She cleared her throat and her hand slipped away from him as she tried to put some space between them. "I don't remember my own parents so I was just curious." Her voice was so quiet that he barely heard her.
He hated that he had to be so fucking defensive about everything. She wasn't going to judge him. She got over that the first time he had come over here. He also hated that he hated it. He'd never given a damn about being defensive before but now he felt like an ass. Hell, it probably wouldn't hurt to indulge her a bit. It wasn't like he had to worry about her looking at him differently because anything he could tell her wouldn't matter. Not when he'd be gone sometime tomorrow morning.
"When I was a little shit she was kind of fun. She would make up these games, ya know. She'd help me hunt down all these hidin' places and she'd tell me all these bullshit stories about how they were magic."
She eased a little closer and he grabbed her hand, his fingers easily linking through hers. She relaxed into him then, apparently sensing that he wasn't mad since he'd started talking again. "That sounds nice."
A short bitter laugh escaped him. It was humorless and cold. "She was trainin' me how to hide from my old man. Some nights she wasn't sober enough to keep him from beatin' the shit outta me so she wanted to make sure I had some good spots." Even as the words left his mouth he was unable to believe that he had said them. He had never told anyone anything like that. Not even his own brother knew that.
"You don't have to tell me anything else," she whispered, clearly upset.
But she was wrong. She was very wrong. He wanted to talk. It felt strange but in a way he felt almost like, talking about it all, was loosening it's hold on him and he needed that. Goddamn he needed that bad and had never, not until this moment, in the dark, with this woman, had he realized how tightly he had held onto that personal hell.
"She drank a lot. I guess she had to, you know, cause it was easier to deal with the bullshit. She couldn't stop him and she wouldn't leave for whatever reason, so she just... became numb to it. But before things got bad, before the beatings got to the point where I'd end up passed out and bleedin'... before all that, she was a good woman. She was a good mom. Or she tried real hard to be. She was the only source of... kindness that I ever knew. When she died it just kind of kept goin'. It was almost like she never had been." His eyes stayed on the ceiling, softly illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the windows.
She raised up, bracing herself on her elbow and out of the corner of his eye he saw her wipe her eyes. He didn't move or say anything else because he was still more than a little stunned. What in the fuck had possessed him to tell her all of that? And why did it not bother him?
"Your back? I felt..." her voice cracked and he finally looked at her.
He nodded and then, just because he didn't know what else to do because he had never been in this situation before, he reached up, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down until her lips were on his. She was leaning over him, her hand braced carefully on his other side so she wouldn't put any weight on his sore ribs, but that wasn't good enough. He was surprised at the realization that this, whatever this was, was possibly the most fundamental connection he had ever had in his life. And time was slipping away quickly. Too soon this tenuous thread would be snipped and he would be gone, she'd be a memory, and the thought had him needing her even closer.
She broke the kiss and he could taste salt on his lips. "I'm so sorry I pushed you into talking about-"
"Shut up," he breathed, pulling her back down. She made a sharp little sound in the back of her throat as the kiss deepened.
He almost growled in frustration when she pulled back again. He hadn't realized that he'd dragged her leg over his.
"You can't do anything. You're hurt," she whispered.
"Carol, just shut up for Christ's sake," he grumbled, pulling her back down. This time she didn't hold back. She slid over him and he ignored the throb of pain in his ribs. He worked the shirt up until she had to move so he could slip it off and when it was finally gone his hands roamed over her. From the small of her back, up the soft curve of her spine, over her slender shoulders and then back down her sides. She squirmed, every movement torture.
He felt light headed, drunk, completely focused on the texture of her skin under his roaming hands. His emotions felt frayed and his nerve endings seemed alive with a mind of their own as her lips moved down his jaw, to his throat. The need to be inside of her was so intense that it was almost scary. Not because he needed release but because he had to get as close as he could. Physically, this was the only thing that he could do to accomplish that.
"You could really hurt yourself," she whispered but then she moaned when he brought his hand up, palming the weight of one breast.
"I'm fine," he breathed, and to prove it he clenched his jaw and rolled them over. It did actually hurt but the pain was nothing compared to his need. He felt the seconds slipping through his fingers until this woman was nothing but a memory and he couldn't waste this time. Every fucking minute with her mattered.
He dropped his head, kissing a trail down the center of her chest, up the soft slope of one breast and then finally reached the peak, sucking deeply, causing her to squirm below him, grinding against him as she tried to control her breathing. His other hand was working her panties down her legs and it wasn't easy. His ribs screamed in protest but the pain was easily ignored. Once he finally got her out of her last bit of clothing his hand went to his own belt.
"Wait," she gasped, causing him to pause. "Stop."
He did just that, instantly thinking that she didn't want this. He was leaving and she knew it and she probably thought that he was just trying to get his rocks off one more time before hitting the road. That wasn't the truth. It wasn't even close to the truth, but her words sobered him and he rolled off of her.
He ran a hand over his face, readying an apology in his head but then felt her move, sliding right back on top of him. She kissed his jaw, his throat and then her lips paused by his ear.
"I want to try something," she whispered.
Hands back on her hips, relieved that she wasn't turning him down he nodded eagerly. Whatever the hell she wanted, now would be the time for her to ask because he was in a strange place in his mind at the moment. As crazy as it sounded, even to himself, the only thing in the world that mattered right now was her.
She sat up, looking down at him with what looked like a shy smile on her face. He couldn't focus on the smile for long before his gaze traveled down over her moonlit body, sculpted breasts, the flat planes of her belly and the feminine flare of her hips. She was bathed in moonlight, pale and maddening. She started working his pants down and he lifted his hips, helping her as much as he could from his prone position.
Once they were off she leaned down, kissing him hard.
"Tell me if I'm not doing it right," she said, her voice husky.
"Not doin' what ri-" his voice trailed away as she slid back down. Her teeth nipped his stomach, causing him to jerk. She made a great show of licking the sting away, just to repeat the action once she reached his hip. She moved lower and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Her kneeling there between his knees, her ass in the air as her hand ran over the length of his erection.
She slowly ran the flat of her tongue from base to tip and then back down again, like she was savoring the moment. He was panting just from watching her, his gaze flitting from her exploring mouth to the flair of her hips that were still thrust in the air. His heart was pounding so hard it was casing his ribs to hurt but it couldn't be helped. When she finally took him into her mouth he groaned, telling himself to keep a cool head. Every move she made was slow and languid, like she was thoroughly enjoying this.
She took him deeper and then moaned, causing him to hiss and then his hand went to her hair but he still didn't try to guide her. She didn't need it because she was doing just fine on her own. He vaguely remembered her words, to let her know if she wasn't doing it right and he was unable to believe that she'd never done this before. Her movements became faster, her hand working in unison. He couldn't control his breathing and he couldn't control how quickly he was about to get off.
"Carol," he whispered breathlessly.
She didn't stop. She ran her nails down his stomach and that tiny sting was the small push he needed. Her eyes shot up, meeting his as he came, clenching his teeth to stifle any sound that wanted to escape. The muscles in his stomach tensed and released in time to waves of pleasure that wracked him and he groaned when he felt her swallow around him.
On her way back up she kissed, licked, nipped him playfully, seeming unhurried. As soon as she was straddling his hips again he couldn't resist touching her.
"Was that okay?" She asked, her voice just a breath in his ear. Her teeth caught his ear lobe, tugging lightly.
He growled, gripping her hips hard. "You're fuckin' incredible, you know that?" he asked, and then felt himself flush furiously that he'd said the words out loud.
She laughed low in her throat. "Because I gave you a blow job?"
He snorted, running his hands up her back and pulling her closer. "That was pretty goddamn great, but no, not because of that. You just are." And he meant it. He hadn't known her very long, but it didn't mean that she wasn't the best person he'd ever met in life. She was fucking amazing. Filled with hope even after she'd endured a rotten lonely life and then an awful marriage. Full of compassion, even though she'd never known much of it herself.
She kissed him then, long and deep. When she pulled away she pushed his hair away from his face and pressed her lips to his forehead. "You're actually pretty incredible yourself, Daryl Dixon."
He didn't shake his head. He didn't laugh her words off or tell her that they weren't true. He didn't do any of these things because he felt like she actually believed it herself and if she believed it then, maybe there was a little bit of truth to it. At least in the ways that mattered. He rolled until she was under him and cut off her protests with another searing kiss. Without warning he pushed into her, groaning at the feel of her warmth gripping him. She sighed against his lips and ran her hands down his back.
Because of the pain his movements were slower but that didn't hinder either of them. She moved with him, silent other than the soft sighs that escaped her. Time became abstract, something apart from them and the sense of touch seemed to be heightened. He lost count of how many times he felt her body let go. She was silent but he could feel it. She clung to him harder, arching into him, heard the soft murmur of words that he didn't quite hear but felt somewhere deep.
What felt like eons later, he finally let go with a shudder, the pleasure knocking the breath out of him. His head dropped to her chest and it was a long time before either of them caught their breath, but even then neither said a word and he didn't offer to move away from her just yet. The real world was invading the safe haven that they had created.
He finally moved away, easing himself down on his back next to her. He felt exhausted, not only from what they had done but from everything he had said to her. He hadn't ever planned on telling her those things; hell, he had never planned on telling anyone. Some demons a man had to handle on his own, not put them on display like that.
"You're spending the night," she said firmly, like he didn't have a chance of winning if he decided to argue.
"You really think that's a good idea?" he asked, staring up at the ceiling again.
"Yes, I do," she muttered.
Since Sophia was home now he decided that he needed to at least put his pants back on, even though he would be long gone before she woke up. Carol slipped his shirt on and slid under the blankets, going right back to her spot, pressed against his side. Having her there felt good and for a few fleeting moments he thought about asking her if he could just stay. Because he desperately wanted to. And a part of him thought that maybe she wanted him to. But there was more to this than what either of them might want.
