AN: This is from a smut quote request that I had a while back on Tumblr. I don't think there's anything really triggering here, but if smut isn't your thing, then you definitely shouldn't read.
I own nothing from The Walking Dead.
I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!
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The scarves were silk and they felt like so smooth and wonderful that Daryl had absentmindedly run them between his fingers for a few moments before he'd begun his work. He'd wanted these particular scarves for their softness.
"Too tight?" He asked.
"Mmm mmm," Carol hummed.
Daryl ignored, for a moment, that her hum was strained. He expected that. She expected it. They'd prepared for that. He moved to the other wrist. He knotted the silky-smooth scarf around her wrist.
"Too tight?"
"Mmm mmm."
Daryl checked the knots, satisfied that they wouldn't give. As he moved his face back toward Carol's, he pressed his lips to her forehead, then lightly he touched them to the tip of her nose, and then she smiled at him before he captured her lips. Her breathing was fast and shallower than he liked. She almost gasped for air when he pulled out of the kiss—she wasn't drawing in as much as she normally did with each breath, and he knew why.
"What'd you pick?" He asked, holding her eyes.
"Dishwater," Carol said.
Daryl laughed quietly and shook his head.
"Good damn choice," he said. "Really breaks the mood."
Carol smiled. She was relaxing, in spite of herself.
"It's supposed to," she confirmed.
Daryl kissed her again, and this time she responded fully. The hum that she gave him wasn't as strained and choked. This hum was one of true satisfaction.
Her breathing was a little ragged when the kiss broke, but Daryl thought it was for a different reason this time than it had been before.
"You sure?" He asked.
"Please?" Carol asked. Daryl nodded at her.
He was nervous, too. They'd expected that, as well.
Daryl kissed her neck. He kissed down it. She pulled, already, at the restraints that held her wrists, but she pulled at them with pleasure. Daryl kissed down to her shoulder. He nipped the skin and ran his tongue over it. He tasted her—salty and wonderful. He kissed her collarbone. She squirmed a little, and tugged against her restraints. Her fast breathing didn't alarm him now. He kissed the other collarbone and scraped his teeth against it.
She mewled at him when he sucked her nipple into his mouth and pressed it, with his tongue, against the roof of his mouth. She panted and whimpered again when he moved to the other one.
"Your nipples are sensitive today," he commented.
They were both naked. There was no need for either of them to be coy. They knew what they were doing when they came into the bedroom. It wasn't like they hadn't talked about this beforehand—at least some of it. Daryl would have never agreed to restrain her if they hadn't discussed it.
Ed had restrained her plenty of times. He'd tied her up and he'd hurt her—badly sometimes. He'd taken advantage of her. He'd made her beg, mostly for mercy, and then he'd ignored her pleas.
When she'd first made this request of Daryl, he'd rejected it immediately. Over time, though, he'd heard what she had to say about how important it was to her to take back some control. Daryl wouldn't hurt her in any way that she didn't explicitly want—and then, only just enough to bring her pleasure. He would never restrain her against her will. He would never make her beg when he didn't intend to listen to her pleas—though she did enjoy begging him, sometimes, in the heat of the moment for what she wanted, and he did, sometimes, withhold the pleasure just long enough to ensure that it would be as intense as possible when he fulfilled her requests.
Tonight, she wanted to be restrained. She wanted Daryl to put her in a position that she had previously equated with terror, essentially, and she wanted him to give her pleasure.
He lived to give her pleasure, and she returned the favor tenfold.
"You do it to me," Carol said.
"What?" Daryl asked, turning his attention to planting kisses around her stomach and abdomen, tasting freckles on the tip of his tongue like they were spilled sugar, as he slowly made his way down her body.
"You do it," Carol said. Daryl pinched her nipple—just hard enough. Her legs squirmed and she lifted her hips, writhing. She pulled against her restraints. She liked just a little bit of pain, given a certain way and at a certain time. Daryl was memorizing all the things she liked as he learned them. He pinched the other nipple and she cried out. There was something about the sound of that cry that made his dick extra hard—he knew she only made it when she enjoyed something.
Daryl bit her hip with the surge of painful pleasure that ran to his dick and she yelped. It was the different kind of yelp. He hadn't meant to bite so hard.
"Sorry," he breathed out, his lips against her skin. "Sorry—I'm sorry."
"It's OK," Carol assured him. "It's not bad. I didn't hate it. Really. It just—surprised me. That's all."
"Won't bite so hard," Daryl assured her. He straightened up and looked at her. She was the most beautiful woman in the whole damn world, and nobody could have ever convinced him otherwise—not even her when she was feeling low about herself. "Shit," he muttered.
"What?" She asked, a smile coming to her lips. Her pupils were dilated. Her face was pink. Her fists were balled up. She looked oddly tense and relaxed at the same time.
"You look so beautiful tied up to our bed," Daryl said, smirking at her.
"Well—are you going to do anything about it?" Carol challenged.
Shit. He loved when she looked at him like that. He loved when she talked to him like that. She could make him feel like the manliest fucking man in the whole damn world by simply raising her eyebrow just so.
Daryl bit his lip against the feeling in his dick. He wanted her, but just as he liked to deny her a little pleasure just long enough to really make sure it was everything it could be, he liked to deny himself, too.
He leaned down. He kissed her thigh. That was all it took for her to pant in response.
"I can smell your pussy," Daryl said. "Smells like fuckin' heaven to me."
They had worked hard to get this far. Daryl was honestly embarrassed to say some of the things he said in the bedroom with Carol. Even thinking them made his face burn red hot. But Ed had trashed her self-esteem, and Daryl had learned that channeling just a touch of his arguably crasser older brother and telling Carol these kinds of things seemed to help her. It built her confidence and, if he was being honest, it built his, too.
It required practice, though, and patience on both their parts, to work up to all these things that they enjoyed together.
"Daryl…" Carol said, a begging tone to her voice.
Daryl recognized it for what it was—one of the first requests that he fuck her.
He straightened up again.
"Spread your legs for me, darlin'," he said.
Carol gasped and Daryl swallowed back his amusement and his pure satisfaction over the fact that just his words could have such an effect on her. That satisfaction was worth any embarrassment he might feel from actually forming the words. She did spread her legs.
"That's a beautiful pussy you got," Daryl offered.
Her breathing was heavy. She pulled at her restraints. She was suffering in the best kind of way. So was Daryl, but it was worth it.
"Fuck it," Carol said.
"What?" Daryl asked. "Didn't hear you."
"Fuck it," Carol said. Her face burned red, too. Like Daryl, this was a long-term effort for Carol. It was a struggle. They'd had to work up to this. Ed had punished her for anything that looked like pleasure. He'd gotten it into his head one too damn many times that her enjoyment of anything sexual made her a whore. It meant she must be unfaithful to him. Even though he could be unfaithful to her, he couldn't tolerate such a thought from her.
Carol had never been unfaithful to Ed, and she'd learned to suppress everything about her sexuality.
Daryl urged her to express everything. He wanted her to ask for what she wanted, and he wanted to give it to her. He wanted her to say what she wanted to say, and he wanted her to be rewarded for her candor.
"What'cha want, Carol?" Daryl pressed. She gave him a half smile.
"Fuck my pussy," she said. "Please…Daryl…"
Daryl chewed his lip and hummed at her. Hearing her say those words…
"I love hearin' them dirty words come outta that pretty mouth," Daryl said. The surge of heat in his face was worth the pleasure she showed at just the words. "Wanna—feel you. I wanna feel how wet you are."
"Please—you make me wet."
"Wanna feel how wet I make you," Daryl said. Daryl slipped his hand between Carol's legs. She was wet. She was sloppy wet for him, and it made him feel more accomplished than such a thing probably made anyone else in the world feel. He didn't know if other men loved their wives the way that he did, or valued their sexual pleasure in quite the way that he did, but it was truly one of the things that Daryl secretly ranked among some of his greatest accomplishments.
Somehow, he'd convinced this incredible, beautiful, wonderful woman to marry him despite what she'd suffered at the hands of another man, and he could make her feel good like this.
Daryl slipped a finger into her, and then another. She rode his fingers, bracing her feet on the bed, until he nearly thought he might lose control of himself. He had to pull his hand back to save himself.
"I'ma taste it," Daryl said. This time, she didn't beg. This time, the sound that escaped her was nearly painful. Daryl understood. He didn't prolong things too much. He moved to latch onto her, and he suckled her. She thrashed against him at first, and then settled in, rolling her hips with pleasure as he sucked and licked.
He could hear the headboard knocking from her fighting against her restraints.
"Tastes so good," he said, coming up from his position to run his hands down her side. He used one of them to catch her face. "Wanna taste?" He asked. He didn't give her time to answer, though. He simply kissed her, and she responded. She pulled against her restraints again, clearly wanting to touch him, but this time she wasn't allowed to. "Keep them legs open for me," Daryl said, moving to line himself up with her. "I'm gonna fuck your pussy now. I'ma fuck 'til you can't stand it, Carol."
He kissed her again as he pushed into her, seating himself entirely inside her. She groaned in pleasure, and rolled her hips. Daryl bit her lip in response. He couldn't wait much longer. Even if he wanted to prolong this, he couldn't. He'd run the risk of not seeing her through to the end if he did.
Since she didn't have any hands to help herself, Daryl used the hand he wasn't using to support himself to toy with her clit. He accepted that the somewhat pained look on her face was actually pleasure, and he kissed her chin when she struggled to even look at him, her head bent back at an almost painful angle by the tension in her body as she focused on the feeling of what he was doing to her body.
She'd flipped her hands around, now, and she was holding onto the restraints as Daryl drove into her. He'd taken to biting his own lip, hard, to keep himself from reaching his peak before she did, and he only just felt her muscles seize up in the familiar way around him before he lost every ounce of resolve he had and came hard, the last few thrusts he had left in him having to suffice for both of them.
Daryl collapsed against her, breathing her in.
"My hands," Carol said around ragged breaths. "I want them…please?"
Daryl pulled himself up enough to work one knot and then the other loose. Immediately, Carol wrapped her legs around Daryl. She grabbed his face with her hands and she kissed him. She scratched her short-shorn nails down his back. For a moment, Daryl closed his eyes and rested against her, catching his breath and losing himself in the welcomed comfort of having her wrapped around him, loving him.
When he felt he'd somewhat recovered, he kissed her again.
"You OK?" He asked.
She smiled at him.
"I'm perfect with you," she said.
"Restraints weren't too bad?"
"They were…nice, actually."
"You didn't get too scared?" Daryl asked.
"No," she confirmed, shaking her head. "You made me feel safe. You always do."
"You always safe with me," Daryl assured her, kissing her again. She ran her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp.
"I know," Carol said. "And that's why—next time we try a little…good pain?"
Daryl's stomach tightened. Still, he could never quite tell her "no" and stick with it. The safe words they came up with were there for both of them, but he found that he seldom ever really meant "no" with her, not when it was something she wanted. He usually meant exactly what he said before he snuggled her close to him and kissed her.
"We'll work up to it."