Chapter 37

Paul set his green bag down on the kitchen table and began to rummage through it. "Alright mate, let's get that cut cleaned and stitched up."

Daryl shook his head, "Amelia first."

Amelia returned from the bed where she had grabbed a shirt and slipped into it, "I'm fine Daryl."

"No ya ain't." he said stubbornly. "She needs her throat looked at."

"What happened to her?" Paul asked.

"She was nearly choked to death." Daryl said darkly. "Look at her throat, and then ya can sew me up."

Amelia sighed as Paul winked at her and patted the kitchen chair. "Sit down pet."

Paul tilted her head up, sucking in his breath as the full extent of her injury became clear. "Shit, Amelia."

Amelia's neck was swollen and red and there were dark bruises in the almost perfect shape of a hand across her throat. Paul prodded gently at them as Amelia winced.

"Open up please." Using a small flashlight, he peered down her throat.

After a few moments he clicked the flashlight off and felt down her neck, his fingers probing and squeezing gently. Amelia flinched again and Paul gave her an apologetic look, "Sorry, little bit."

He stepped back and smiled at her, "Well, I think you'll be okay. Your throat doesn't seem to be injured; that's a good sign. Any hoarseness or pain when you talk?"

"At first," Amelia admitted, "but not now."

"Good. It'll take a few days for the bruising and swelling to go down but overall I think you were pretty lucky. How did you get away?"

Amelia hesitated, "Daryl saved me."

She glanced at Daryl, her stomach rolling with nausea from the memory of Merle with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. He had just finished putting water on the cook stove to heat for her bath and she gave him a small, sick smile. He nodded in response.

"Your turn, redneck." Paul grinned as Daryl glared at him.

The small British man was nearly giddy and Amelia gave him a quick, impulsive hug. She knew exactly how he felt. Despite spending the last 12 hours riding in the back of a truck with Hannah, she still couldn't quite believe that she was alive.

Paul patted her back gently then released her as Daryl sat down in the chair she had just vacated. Using water-soaked gauze, Paul began to swipe at the cut on Daryl's forehead and Amelia glanced at the door. She was just thinking of slipping out for a moment to go to Hannah's cabin when Daryl's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"No Amelia. Yer stayin' in the cabin with me. Ya can talk to her in the morning."

She sighed. Sometimes Daryl knowing her so well was a pain in the ass. She was surprised to realize that her usual reaction to being told what to do, an immediate flare of temper and a childish response of "you can't tell me what to do", was nowhere to be found. Apparently, watching the man you love kill his own brother to save your life, trampled your desire for independence into the dirt. With another soft sigh she turned and moved behind Daryl, pulling his head back until it rested on her flat abdomen.

She rubbed his shoulders gently as Paul cleaned the wound with rubbing alcohol. Daryl grunted with pain and Paul pulled out a bottle of pills from his green bag. "Here, you should take one of these. It's going to hurt like hell to stitch this up and they'll numb the pain."

Before he could shake a pill out, Daryl shook his head. "Nah. Don't need 'em."

Paul rolled his eyes, "Don't be a hero. We've got plenty of pain relief meds."

Daryl shook his head again, his brow furrowing stubbornly, and Amelia smiled wryly. "Don't bother arguing with him Paul."

She kissed the top of Daryl's head as Paul began to stitch the wound. "This should have been stitched hours ago." Paul remarked. "If it wasn't so wide, I would be tempted to just let it continue healing on its own. As it is you're going to have a helluva scar."

Amelia squeezed Daryl's shoulders as he pressed his head against her stomach, trying subconsciously to move away from the pain.

"Are you sure you don't want a pain pill?" she murmured.

"Yes." he said through clenched teeth.

She snorted with irritation and he reached up and took both her hands in his. He held them tightly for a moment before releasing her. He knew she didn't understand why he wouldn't take the pills but he wanted to be completely clear headed. His head throbbed miserably and every bone in his body was aching but he had every intention of taking Amelia to bed the minute Paul left them alone. He had spent the last 12 hours reliving the horror he had felt when he had seen Merle choking the hell out of her. She had nearly died in that room and thinking about it had naturally led to thinking about all the other times she had nearly died. Although outwardly he appeared calm, his insides were churning with a gut-wrenching combination of fear, relief and lust. He wanted to take Amelia to bed, strip their clothes off, and bury himself in her warmth and the sound of her voice moaning his name. Maybe then, the buzzing in his brain would quiet.

He flinched as the needle slid through the skin on his forehead. Amelia squeezed his shoulders again and kissed the side of his cheek gently. He breathed in her scent, shifting in the hard kitchen chair as his groin responded to her closeness.

When Merle had reached for the knife, he had reacted instantly. The thought of a life without Amelia terrified him to the core and when Merle had tried to take her from him, he had killed his own brother without hesitation. Any remorse or guilt he might have felt in the aftermath of it had been overshadowed by the huge, overwhelming relief that Amelia was safe. In that moment he had realized, with a sinking sort of dismay, that the person he once was – a man who didn't need anyone – was gone.

Lying in the bed of the truck, with Amelia's soft body pressed against his and his head throbbing and aching, Daryl had spent most of the time trying to accept the fact that who he was, the core of him, had been completely changed by Amelia. He had alternated between surges of love for her and feelings of near hatred. He didn't want his reason for living and surviving to be so tied up in the life of another and yet, over the last few months, that was exactly what had happened. He had killed his brother to save the life of a woman he had known less than a year and he had no feelings of remorse over it.

He wondered briefly what kind of monster that made him, and then Amelia was leaning over him again, her warm breath puffing against his ear as she asked him if he was okay, and he decided he didn't care.

He grunted in response and looked at Paul. "Ya done yet?"

"Just about." Paul replied distractedly.

Daryl sighed in annoyance. He had no idea how to handle the emotion that was going through his body. He supposed that normal men would sit down and spout off about their feelings and how much Amelia meant to them, and finish with a declaration of their undying love. He snorted to himself. Amelia might have fixed something in him that he hadn't known was broken but he'd be damned if he started spilling his guts about every ridiculous thought of love he had for her. No, he wouldn't and couldn't do that, but he was desperate to show his love to her the best way he knew how – by taking her to his bed.

Paul held a small towel under the cut and poured peroxide over it. He waited for it to finish bubbling and then rinsed it with clean water. He patted it dry and then began to pack up his supplies as Daryl stood and put his arm around Amelia's waist.

"Thank you Paul." Amelia smiled at him and he nodded.

"You're welcome." He shook out a couple of pills from an amber coloured bottle and left them on the table, glancing at Daryl. "These are for you if you decide you want them."

As he headed for the door, Amelia called after him, "Tell Hannah I'll be by in the morning okay?"

"Will do." He waved and left the cabin.

The moment the door shut, Daryl pushed Amelia up against the counter and kissed her hungrily. Her small squeak of surprise turned into a low moan when Daryl cupped her breast through her shirt and shoved his tongue deep into her mouth.

He reached for the button on her pants, unbuttoning them roughly and yanking down her zipper. She pushed away from him, "Daryl wait."

He frowned, "What? I want you Amelia."

"I want you too but maybe we should talk first. About what happened."

She gave him a naked look of fear and he shook his head. "We'll talk later." He tried to tug her jeans down over her hips and she stopped him again.

"We're talking later Daryl, promise me."

"I promise." He muttered distractedly.

She smiled, "I'd really like to have a bath first. I'm dirty and smelly and – "

He slid his hands up her shirt, working his fingers under her bra and pinching her nipples lightly. "Ya smell fine." He muttered.

She shivered against him and then pushed on his chest, "No, I don't. And frankly, you don't either." She said pointedly.

He rolled his eyes but took the hint. He picked up one of the buckets on the cook stove and carried it to the bathroom door.

"Is that even hot yet?" she protested.

"It's hot enough." He answered and slipped into the bathroom.

Shaking her head, she locked the front door and squirmed out of her jeans and shirt. Daryl came out of the bathroom, a small smile on his face, and she looked at him questioningly.

"What?"

"You'll see." He answered. He looked her up and down, taking in her plain white bra and panties and she crossed her arms self-consciously over her bare torso.

He grinned and she wrinkled her nose at him. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" he said innocently as he grabbed two more buckets of water and carried them towards the bathroom.

She started to follow him into the bathroom but he shook his head.

"Wait out here for a minute." He shut the door firmly behind him and she sat on the edge of the bed.

After a few minutes, her curiosity got the better of her and she knocked on the bathroom door. "Daryl, what are you doing in there?"

"Just a minute." He grunted.

After another couple of minutes, he opened the door and she stepped into the bathroom. She looked into the dry and empty tub and looked at him in confusion.

"What - ?"

He grinned and pointed upwards. She looked up to see a large black bag hanging from a hook in the ceiling above the tub. It had the words "camp shower" and "5 gallons" stamped on it in large white lettering and there was a long clear tube attached to the bottom of it with a bright orange nozzle at the end of the tube.

"Daryl, did you – when did you do this?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Wasn't me. I just came in here to find it like this."

He stripped off his clothes, "I filled it with the water from the buckets – figured maybe you'd like a shower instead of a bath for a change."

"Oh my God." She barely noticed when Daryl unhooked her bra and pulled it from her body. He tugged her panties down and she stepped out of them, resting her hand on his shoulder as he carefully pulled them from one foot and then the other.

"C'mon honey, let's get you clean." Daryl whispered into her ear. He led her into the tub and stood her under the nozzle. He reached up and turned it on and Amelia laughed delightedly as water came out.

Daryl reached for the pins that secured her long braid to her scalp and she shook her head. "No, let's not waste the water washing it. It's fine until tomorrow."

She raised her hand and let the water sprinkle down through her fingers. It was lukewarm and the water coming out of the nozzle was only a step above a light drizzle but she couldn't stop grinning. She kissed Daryl on the mouth as the water pattered lightly down on them.

He kissed her back, exploring the depths of her mouth with his warm tongue as the water soaked into their skin. He picked up the soap and lathered it between his hands before handing it to her.

"Hold this." He whispered.

He tilted her head back and very gently washed her bruised and swollen neck before moving on to her shoulders. He turned her around and washed her back. His hands were warm and rough on her skin and she moaned when he slipped them around to her front and moved his hands in soapy circles across her abdomen and up her ribcage. He washed her arms and then made her lift them, cleaning under her arms and then across her upper chest.

"Daryl, please." She moaned. Her breasts were throbbing and her nipples were rock hard. The light touch of the water on them was driving her crazy and she tugged impatiently on Daryl's hands. He laughed, his warm breath tickling her ear, and finally cupped her breasts. She arched her back, pushing her breasts into his hands as his strong fingers teased her nipples.

"Oh God." She sighed, as his fingers, slippery with soap, tugged and pulled on her nipples. He rubbed and massaged the soap into her breasts for a few minutes and then moved his hands back down her body. She muttered in frustration and he kissed the back of her neck gently.

"You wanted to be clean remember?" He moved his hands over her hips, scrubbing gently and then moved them on to her ass. She pushed back into him, moaning when she felt his hard cock against her ass. He rubbed the back of her thighs and then knelt in the bathtub and cleaned her calves and the front of her thighs. He stood and pulled her back against him until her back was nestled against his hard chest. He put his arms around her and cupped her breasts again as he trailed kisses along her bare, wet shoulder.

"Almost done." He whispered and then bit her shoulder lightly, smiling at her soft moan. He took the soap from her and lathered his hands again before running them down her abdomen. When his fingers circled through the soft curls at the center of her thighs, she spread her legs immediately.

He smiled at her eagerness and slipped his hand between her legs. He rubbed gently at her warm pink folds as she gasped and made soft little moans of pleasure.

Daryl's cock was so hard it hurt. He wanted to plunge his cock deep inside of her but he forced himself to step back and stop touching her. Before she could complain, he moved her directly under the light spray of water and rinsed her skin until it was pink and shiny clean.

She kept her eyes closed, a soft smile playing on her lips until he kissed them gently and whispered against her mouth, "All clean."

She opened her eyes and gave him a smile that took his breath away. "Your turn."

She switched places with him and he tilted his head back, letting the water run over his head and face. "Keep your eyes closed." She whispered and began to scrub his head, her hands lathered with shampoo. She rinsed his hair and then used the soap to lather her hands once more so she could wash her face. She was careful to avoid the cut on his forehead and she pushed him gently back under the spray, rinsing his face of the soap.

As she started to wash his shoulders and chest she giggled quietly.

He cracked open one eye, "What?"

"We've done this before. Remember?"

"Ayuh." He would never forget that day. "I was tied up and helpless and you were havin' yer dirty way with me."

She laughed and smacked him lightly on the chest before rubbing her fingers through his chest hair, "I was checking you for bites."

"So ya said."

She bit her lip as her hands stroked across his flat abdomen and around his rib cage, "I have a confession to make. That day at the farm house when I told you my people wanted you checked for bites? Well, it wasn't exactly like that."

He looked at her and arched one eyebrow.

She blushed a little, "I decided to do that on my own. It was mostly an excuse to touch you."

"Like I said - so you could have yer dirty way with me."

"I didn't go in there intending to force myself on you. I just – just wanted to touch you." She protested.

He laughed and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her up against him so he could kiss her mouth. "Ya didn't force yerself on me. I wanted it as much as you did."

He cupped her breast, "In fact, if I hadn't been tied to that damn chair I woulda fucked you right then and there."

She shuddered with pleasure against him and he pressed his hard cock into her bare hip. She pulled away from him, "I'm not done yet. We don't want to run out of water before you're clean."

She ignored his growl of protest and turned him around until his back was to her. She lathered her hands with soap and handed it to him. "Hold this please." She mimicked him from earlier and he held the bar of soap tightly as she ran her hands over his ass.

She washed his thighs and calves quickly and then re-soaped her hands and washed his arms and hands. He could feel her breasts pushing into his back, the nipples hard points, and he reached down and took his cock in his hand, rubbing it firmly as she ran her hands over his chest.

"Hey." She chided him gently and pulled his hand free. He made a small moan of need and she kissed his neck as the warm water ran over both of them.

"Patience my love." She whispered and slid her warm and soapy hands down over his stomach and onto his pelvis. She wrapped her long fingers around his cock and he groaned with pleasure, his hips bucking against her. She rubbed firmly, staring down at his cock as it swelled in her hand.

She continued to stroke him for a few more minutes, running her fingers over the head of his cock as he panted lightly into her ear. "That feels so good honey." He groaned.

"I like making you feel good." She whispered.

He reached behind him and grabbed her smooth thighs, kneading the wet flesh with firm fingers. "Please Amelia." He moaned.

Instead of moving her hand faster, she released him and he muttered a curse under his breath. She giggled and pushed him directly under the spray of water, rinsing his body clean.

"I needed to get the soap rinsed off before we ran out of water." She whispered in his ear.

He abruptly turned and pulled her against him, kissing her deeply as the water ran over their shoulders and down their backs. She moaned and kissed him back, sucking on his tongue as he cupped her breast and pulled roughly on her nipples. He bit down on her bottom lip, making her fingers dig into the scars on his back.

"Sorry." She whispered.

He shook his head, "It didn't hurt."

He kissed her again, plunging his tongue repeatedly into her mouth, tasting and licking and searching until she was moaning and trembling against his hard body.

He squeezed her thigh in his hand and pulled it up around his waist, opening her up to him. He rested his cock against her warm center and she pulled her mouth from his.

"Daryl, wait." She gasped.

He ignored her and thrust his cock into her. She cried out with pleasure, hooking her leg around his waist and clutching his shoulders tightly as he moved in and out of her.

"Daryl." She moaned.

"Yeah?" he whispered.

"We need to stop. You're not wearing a condom."

"I know." He replied. He withdrew from her and then quickly plunged back into her. She cried out and he smiled at her.

"We fit together so well Amelia. Yer body was made for mine."

She moaned loudly when he reached between them and ran his fingers over her clit. She leaned back in the circle of his arm, the water splashing gently on to her chest as she threw her head back and ground her pelvis against him.

Daryl frowned at the bruises on her exposed throat. He kissed the hollow of her throat gently and then moved his mouth to her breast. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, licking the water from it and then using the tip of his tongue to tease it into a hard point.

He braced his legs and began a steady rhythm of moving in and out of her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her hips slapped against his and he closed his eyes as she squeezed her inner muscles around his cock.

"Jesus, Amelia." He moaned. He knew that he would need to stop soon before he came inside of her. It was nearly impossible to stop. The feel of her warm and wet core around his cock, without a rubber to block any of the sensation, was driving him crazy.

She had stopped any type of protest. She was panting lightly and thrusting her hips against him frantically and he groaned softly, "Amelia, stop moving."

"No." she shook her head and moved faster. She was very close now and at that moment she didn't care if Daryl came inside of her or not. She didn't care about anything but finding that moment of pure pleasure that she was so close to.

"Fuck!" Daryl cried out and reached between them once more. He rubbed her clit madly, hoping to make her come while he tried desperately to keep his own orgasm at bay.

With a loud cry, she threw her head back and came wildly. Her body shook and tightened around him with pleasure, nearly throwing him over the edge. He pulled out of her and held her up as she continued to tremble and shudder against him.

"Oh my God." She panted. She looked at him, drops of water clinging to her hair and her face flushed with pleasure and it took all of his willpower not to just bend her over the tub and fuck her until he came inside of her.

"We should go to the bed." He rasped just as the water trickled to a stop, the camp shower bag hanging empty above them.

She nodded and they stepped out of the tub. She was starting to shiver and he rubbed her down quickly with the towel before drying his own body. His cock was still rock hard and she made a small sound of appreciation in her throat when it rubbed across her lower abdomen.

"The bed." He groaned. He pulled her out of the bathroom and although he was rougher than he intended, she didn't protest.

She stopped in front of the bed, standing patiently as he reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open and put it on with rough urgency before standing behind her.

"I need you so much Amelia." He bit her earlobe, making her gasp with surprise, before he reached around her and cupped her breasts. He kneaded them roughly as she arched her back and shoved her ass against him. He slid his hand down her stomach and pushed it forcefully between her legs. She cried out with pleasure when he plunged two fingers deep inside of her.

He sucked on her earlobe as his fingers moved in and out of her, bringing a surge of wetness to his hand.

"You're so tight Amelia." He whispered into her ear, pulling another shudder of pleasure from her.

He pushed her down on the bed, urging her onto her hands and knees and pulled her thighs apart with rough hands. He held her hips steady and rested his cock at her soft, pink slit. She wiggled against him, a low moan of need starting in her throat and he pushed his cock into her clinging, wet warmth.

"Daryl…oh God." She cried out as he thrust in and out of her at a frantic pace. He was so close already and her soft cries and watching the curve of her ass pressing against his pelvis wasn't helping.

"Amelia…" he moaned quietly and she buried her face in the bed, pushing her bottom up and shifting her legs apart until he could bury the full length of his cock deep inside of her.

His fingers dug into her hips as he drove his cock in and out of her tight warmth. She made a sudden muffled cry of pleasure and he realized she was coming again as her muscles tightened around him and there was another surge of wetness.

He threw his head back and shoved his cock deep inside of her, the cords standing out in his neck as his orgasm rushed through him. He pumped in and out of her for a few more seconds, his breath tearing from his throat in harsh gasps, before he reluctantly pulled free. He disposed of the condom and then lifted her gently from the bed, steadying her while he pulled the quilt and sheet back.

They crawled into the bed and he pulled the sheet up, leaving the quilt at the bottom of the bed. It was warm in the cabin and both of them were covered in a light sheen of perspiration. He pulled her back against him, spooning his body into hers and shoving his thigh into its customary spot between hers.

"Honey, we need to talk." She murmured sleepily.

"Tomorrow." He grunted.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you too."