"Christ," Beth gasps, pressing her face deep into the brutally cold wood.
"Daryl," her boyfriend corrects cockily.
She can't even laugh through the unh that spits between her teeth, his hips snapping hard into her ass, his hand tightening on the back of her neck and pressing her face down harder until she's struggling to breathe, her hand working between her legs and her fingers rubbing faster on her clit.
Between her thighs, below her working hand, Daryl's cock sinks deep into her cunt, his other hand balanced on her spine, compressing her down into the unforgiving edge of his desk. She moans thickly as the orgasm reaches its crescendo, burning like lava through her veins in a rush, pounding all the way through her system until it explodes.
Her teeth catch on to her forearm where her face is turned as she screams, shaking so bad her knees give out and bang against the side of the wood she's bent over, scattering even more papers and pens that skitter to the floor and roll away to parts unknown. Behind her, Daryl grunts once, twice, three times before he goes still, his fingers clenching so hard on the back of her neck she sees stars.
God, there's gonna be some bruises tomorrow.
After he's spilled hot ropes of cum into her pussy he pulls out, landing a soft slap on her ass that makes her gasp. "C'mon, got work to do."
She straightens on shaky legs and turns to scowl at him, zipping up her jeans. "You hauled me in here lover boy, ain't my fault."
He chuckles and reaches forward to readjust her top to cover her bra strap. "Ain't my damn fault. You know you been givin' me that look."
"The one that says 'Daryl, wrap your hands around my throat'?"
His eyes heat and she swallows softly, her cunt fluttering even now. "Summat like that."
She hums as she reaches on her tip toes to kiss his lips. "M'tryin' to cover the ones you left last night, stop makin' it so obvious I'm screwin' the boss. The other girls hate bein' reminded."
He rolls his eyes because she keeps insisting how much everyone wants to fuck him but he don't believe her. "Ain't my fault I gotta keep 'em off ya."
It's her turn to roll her eyes because he keeps telling her about all the guys that come to watch her sing and how they all make eyes at her.
"C'mon," she says again, taking his hand and unlocking the office door. "I need to actually work."
He makes a noise from over her shoulder to let her know how he feels about this statement before they disconnect hands and walk out. She throws him a smile as she goes back to her job and he dips his chin in return. As she heads towards the bar, Merle passes her and she half listens when he approaches his brother.
"How long you gonna do this? How many damn bites you gonna give her to keep 'em back?"
Beth frowns and looks back over her shoulder to join the conversation but then another girl lets her know that a rowdy bunch has come in, surprising for a Wednesday so she misses Daryl's reply.
She does hear Merle though, even though he's hissing beneath his breath, "don't matter how you feel Darylina. Ya scarin' customers away an' this place ain't gonna take the hit. Man the fuck up. An' the customers you ain't scarin' away? Are gettin' their ass kicked by me when they start talkin' 'bout what a hooker she is, covered in them damn hickeys."
Beth's throat closes and she's irrationally angry. What's going on? There's no way she can join the conversation though because someone calls for her attention and she doesn't manage to stop for the rest of the night.
"S'up with you, girl? Been so quiet," Daryl breaks the silence in the car on the ride home.
Beth tries to tamper down the flare of anger but she knows he and Merle were talking about her earlier and she knows something is going on.
"What're you hidin' from me?"
He glances at her from the road and then back to the road, but she notices his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"
"Daryl Dixon," she says fiercely, staring at the right side of his face. "You ain't give me no bullshit for the whole of our relationship, don't start now. It don't suit you."
His jaw tightens and her stomach flips. What the hell is going on?
"There's summat I gotta tell you."
Oh God. He's married with three kids and a house twenty miles out. She feels sick but she waits him out.
Daryl clears his throat and moves around in his seat. "Some guy come by. Said he wanted to offer you somethin'. Seen you online."
She frowns, completely blown out of the water by this compared to the million and one scenarios she was thinking of.
"An' offer me what?" She prompts.
Silence for a beat and then, "record. A deal. Sign you."
"Sign me?" She squeaks and she is not proud by how high her voice has gone. "Why is this an' issue?"
"I sent 'im away."
"What?"
He sent him away, knowing that this is the very thing she has been trying to accomplish for nearly all her life? That she moved to LA for? How could he?
Daryl's fingers flex but he doesn't look at her. "Saturday. Sent 'im away. Been tryin'a get rid of people since. Been coverin' you in them bites 'cause every guy comin' in was takin' pictures of you. Sharin' you on their shit, their damn Instagammes."
"Instagram's," she corrects automatically even though her heart feels like it's going to fall out of her mouth. "Wait," she follows up with, trying to gather her thoughts. "You've been… you've been… sabotagin' me?"
He winces but doesn't correct her and it solidifies in her, the betrayal.
"Lemme get this straight," she says a little breathlessly, her hands shaking so bad she squeezes them between her thighs. "You made sure not one god damn customer could take my picture by coverin' me in bites an' then… by doin' that, hopin' no one else would notice me? That I wouldn't get signed? That I wouldn't have everythin' I've always wanted?"
"Beth…" his voice is strangled but she has no sympathy, no feeling.
"Stop the car."
"What?"
"Stop – the – car."
The car slows to a stop and she undoes her seat belt without looking at him, reaching for her door. Daryl grabs her arm and she jerks but he holds tight and forces her to look at him. "What?"
"M'sorry. I fucked up alrite? I ain't good at this, I dunno how to do this!" He says desperately, eyes wild and hand hot on her skin.
The open car door allows wind to freeze her, freeze her insides, her heart. "Dunno how to support me? Dunno how to help me accomplish my goal? My dream? Did you fuck me 'cause you wanted to or was that just an excuse for your sick intentions? Excuse to bite me and bruise me? Did you get off on it? Knowin' how meanin' less it was?"
His skin goes white and his hand squeezes her wrist but she stares at him and doesn't flinch. He looks so pained, so damn sorry that her gut twists but she can't give in, she can't. How could he do this to her?
Finally, he lets go.
She gets out of the car, slams the door and walks away.