Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters belong to the creators of the television series and the graphic novels.

Helping Hand

Daryl Dixon was a great kisser. The first time had been awkward and clumsy, and he'd used just a little too much tongue in his eagerness, but the more they kissed, the more he learned what she liked based on the way she responded. It's as far as they'd gone, and it was getting harder and harder to stop.

On this night, tucked away in the back of Dale's old RV, Carol whimpered when his lips pressed against her neck and his hands moved down her back and over her ass. She gasped softly when he squeezed her there, and he pulled away.

"M'sorry," he muttered. She reached for him, bringing her arms around his neck.

"Don't be. I liked it," she promised.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm." His hands moved to her hips then, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again. When he broke this kiss, he buried his face against her neck, inhaling deeply and backing her up against the wall. She giggled when his hands moved up her sides, unintentionally tickling her.

"You smell so damn good," he groaned, sucking at her neck, just above where he could feel her heartbeat.

"Daryl," she panted, bringing her hands up his back and then over his shoulders and arms. His hands squeezed her hips, and she leaned her head back against the wall. His hand moved up her shirt then, palming her breast over the fabric of her bra. She arched her back against his touch, and she pushed against his shoulders.

"Did I…"

"Come here," she panted, tugging at his shirt and leading him toward the bed. The look of surprise on his face was barely discernible in the darkness, but she could just make it out. She smiled then, laying back and reaching for him. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, but when he felt her hand on his thigh, his cock twitched with interest in his pants.

He crawled over her then, hands straining against the mattress, willing himself not to fall over her, and when her hands moved up his shirt and over his back, he groaned and pressed his lips against hers again.

She panted against his mouth, and her stomach twisted into knots. A powerful heat pooled at her core, and she found that her heart was racing. She'd never felt like this with anyone before, but with Ed, it had been all about his needs and his wants, and when he finished, that was it. Her pleasure was rarely even an afterthought. She had enjoyed sex well enough in the beginning of the marriage, before things got violent, but she'd come to accept that her own pleasure was best achieved after Ed fell asleep and she could finish herself off with her own hand. He'd caught her once and nearly beat her bloody for it.

In this moment, it felt like a lifetime ago.

He was hard. She could feel him when he settled his hips against hers, and suddenly this was going somewhere fast. As ready as her body felt, she still needed time.

He felt her tense under him, and he stopped.

"I do somethin' wrong?"

"No," she promised. "It's just…going somewhere fast. I'm sorry. I thought I was…"

"It's ok," he assured her, rolling off of her and laying next to her, staring up at the ceiling of the RV. Carol covered her face with her hands, and she groaned softly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered again.

"Don't gotta apologize," he murmured. Carol turned her face toward his and kissed him softly. His hand moved to her face, and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. His rough, calloused fingers were surprisingly gentle. "Probably wouldn't be any good at it anyway."

"Stop that," Carol scolded.

"Mean, it's just been a while," he muttered. "Ain't had much…experience." Carol bit her lip then and grinned. "What?"

"I might have been married, but I've never had a lover that was worried about me. The second you thought I was uncomfortable, you stopped. That's why I know when it happens, it'll be amazing." Daryl blinked at her and jerked his head back.

"You really want to?" Carol stroked his cheek with her fingertips.

"You have no idea how much," she whispered. "I just need some time." She bit her lip. "You should go. I need to…" She sat up a little, and Daryl sat up with her.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"Tell me. You need somethin'?" She blushed then, and she felt her heart swell that after a hot and heavy kissing session, Daryl Dixon was ready to go out and do whatever she needed, and he didn't have a clue what she was about to say.

"I need to come," she whispered, kissing him again. He stared at her dumbly for a moment, before his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

"Oh. Right. I…" His head felt a little swimmy, and his heart was still thundering in his chest, but he didn't want to leave her yet. Maybe it was selfish, but since the first time she'd kissed him and made him feel things he hadn't ever felt before, being near her was like breathing for him. "I should go." He got up then, and he started to leave, but just as he approached the doorway, he turned.

"Daryl?" She eyed him in the dim light and saw a question in his eyes he wasn't sure how to voice. It was then that she realized what he wanted. She held her hand out to him. "Come here." He returned to the bed, crawling in next to her. She leaned back, her neck resting against his arm, and she took his hand, leading him down her stomach and to the waistband of her sleep pants. He swallowed hard when she guided his hand into her panties.

"Christ," he bit out. She was slick and hot, and when she took her hand away from his, she brought it to the collar of his shirt, bringing him in for another kiss. Her hips bucked against his hand when he began to stroke her, and she sucked in a ragged gasp against his lips. When he pulled back from the kiss, he watched her head fall back against his arm.

She spread her legs for him then, and he stroked her faster, circling the throbbing little nub with his thumb. He wanted to see all of her, but he knew if he did, he'd be done for. It was all he could do to keep from coming in his pants, but he forced himself to think about her, about what she needed, and somehow, he managed to keep himself in control.

She gasped when he curled a finger up inside of her, stroking her slowly, stretching her when he added a second finger.

"Daryl," she gasped. "Oh, fuck. Please, don't stop." She gripped the bed sheets then, and Daryl felt her walls clenching around his fingers. He slowly slid a third finger inside, and her hips shot up off the bed. She gasped then, and he pulled his hand back.

"You ok?"

"Don't…don't stop. Please don't stop touching me," she moaned, reaching for his hand again. He slid his hand back between her legs, teasing her clit before sliding his fingers back into her. She whimpered, biting her lip, and she arched back again. He watched her bring her hands up her stomach and over her breasts, and he buried his face between them, longing to feel them bare against his skin, to tease them with his lips and tongue. But he was going to have to wait. She was close. She clenched her thighs around his wrist, and he stroked her faster until she went tense and let out a moan he only hoped to hear again very, very soon. And then she relaxed against the bed, pushing at his hand to let him know he could stop.

"Jesus," Daryl muttered. "You…you good?"

"That was amazing," she panted. "God." She covered her face with her hands again, and Daryl watched as her shoulders began to shake. He wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying, but when he heard the soft giggle escape her lips, he let out a sigh of relief. "Oh my God. I've never come that fast before."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she panted. "I usually have to work a lot harder for it." She laughed then, and she turned her face to kiss him. "Thank you."

"You just thank me for gettin' you off?"

"Well, I could thank you in another way if you…if you want." She started to reach for his belt, and Daryl nearly swallowed his tongue. He put his hands around her wrists to stop her. As much as he needed it, as much as he craved it, he knew that if he stayed, it wasn't going to stop there. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted another person, but he wanted her to be ready.

"It's ok," he assured her. "I should go."

"You sure?" she asked gently.

"Yeah." He leaned forward and kissed her. "Good night."

"Good night," she whispered. He turned and left, and she collapsed against the mattress, her body still buzzing from the first orgasm she'd had in a long, long time. Daryl Dixon, the same man who'd just a few months ago angrily pulled away, blaming himself for Sophia's death, who had been a smart-assed, smart-mouthed archer when she'd first met him, was putting her first, was taking care of her needs, and it was more than she could have ever asked for. This man who had been a stranger not long ago was becoming the sort of man she'd always longed for, and he wanted her.

He looked at her with desire, like he knew exactly what he wanted, and he'd make her blush with just a stare. Nobody knew. Maybe some suspected, but in secret, they'd meet in the dead of night, kissing and touching each other like it might be the last time. And she'd never felt anything like it before. She felt good. She felt sexy. She felt wanted. It was exhilarating. It was a powerful feeling, craving him.

With a smile, she rolled onto her side and hoped for sleep. Tomorrow night couldn't come fast enough.