AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
There is a smut warning on this chapter, so you have that warning if you need it.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Can I tell you a secret?" Carol asked, the end of the whisper accentuated with the slightest pop of laughter. Just the sound of it made Daryl smile—almost as much as the fact that Carol wrapped his hands in hers and pressed her body close against his like she intended for her body to whisper the secret to his.
"Always," Daryl offered quietly. He ducked to kiss her. Since he didn't want to take that smile away from her—not for any reason—he kissed her forehead. The end of her nose. He peppered her cheek with kisses and she laughed quietly. The light sound rippled through Daryl's body and, in response, he pulled Carol closer to him.
"When we were—at dinner? And you had your hand on my thigh, just sitting there? I really liked that," Carol said.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Yeah? If you liked it so much, I mean…I could definitely do it again," Daryl offered, breaking away only to tug Carol through the quiet house toward their bedroom. "I could even—move it a little further up, if you wanted that."
Carol laughed in response to that and let her fingers hold onto his as he guided her into the bedroom. As soon as she was inside the bedroom door, he dropped her hand and quickly went to turn on the bedside lamp so that they weren't surrounded by darkness. She closed the bedroom door, but she stayed there, leaning with her back against the door.
She was smiling at him. She looked completely relaxed, but there was something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Daryl came back to her, but this time he captured her lips with a kiss. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her away from the door, and he groaned his appreciation and satisfaction to her when she expressed her hunger by nibbling his lips before returning for more of the kiss.
"Shit," he breathed out when the kiss broke. She was close enough—her lips still practically on his—that he could feel her panting as her breath came out in gentle puffs. "If I'da known that trick, I'da started fuckin' breakfast with my hand on your thigh."
Carol laughed and then she hummed, not trying to pull away from him.
"It was more than just—the fact that your hand was on my thigh," Carol said. She pulled away enough, then, to make it clear that she wanted to look at him, but not far enough to make it seem like she was trying to escape him. "Your hand was on my thigh while—we were sitting at your brother's table. Eating dinner."
"You like havin' somebody there?" Daryl asked. "Like—a voyeur or something?" Carol smiled at him. He nodded his head, swallowing some amusement that rumbled up in him. "I know a lotta damn words, Carol. Fancy words like voyeur."
"I know you do," Carol said.
"Then don't look so amazed when I know one that's over three letters long," Daryl said. Carol shook her head, gently, in response.
"It's not the word that amazes me," Carol said. "It's you. Everything—everything about you." Very suddenly, something in her demeanor changed. It was like she'd seen a ghost. Daryl furrowed his brow at the change and touched her cheek, almost expecting it to be cold. When he found it was warm, he dropped his hand down to squeeze her shoulder.
"What's wrong?" He asked. "You OK?"
"I liked the domesticity of it," Carol said. "The—feeling like it was real. It was really…real."
Daryl's heart thundered in his chest. He leaned into her, kissed her again, and she returned the kiss.
"I liked it, too," he said.
"You did?" Carol asked. He nodded. "You really did?" He nodded again.
"I'd do it again," he said. "Except now's a little different. I'd sure like to put my hand on your thigh, though, now. If you let me."
A hint of a smile. Just the softest smile that barely turned her lips upward.
"Would you?"
"Yeah," Daryl assured her. He kissed her again, pushed her back against the door, and kissed her neck. "If you wanted me to. Shit—I feel so damned ridiculous."
"Why?" Carol asked, pushing away from him, her hands on his shoulders. She searched his face out with more concern than he was sure the situation warranted.
"Because you got me so fuckin' turned on right now," Daryl said. His face was hot—blazing hot. "Because I'm—sayin' it. You're just talkin' about my fuckin' hand on your thigh, and fuckin' domesticity, and I'm imaginin' puttin' my damned hand between your legs, and suddenly I'm so fuckin' turned on that I'm wonderin' if I could even stand touchin' you for a minute before I fuckin' blow it."
Carol's soft, cool fingers touched his face. She kissed him and he groaned at the taste of her kiss. She rubbed herself against him, mostly rubbing him with her belly since it met him long before anything else had the chance. He let his hands rest on the sides of her belly for a second before sliding around to hold her from behind. She groaned at him and the sound shot through him, making his already painful erection throb just that much more with the desire—the need—to be inside her.
He growled at her. She shushed him, quietly.
"I like hearing it. All of it. I think—that's one of the sweetest things that's ever been said to me," she said, her hands trailing over his clothing. Daryl might have thought she was giving him shit, but her tone was sincere.
"If you like that, I can tell you all kinds of things about the number you're doin' on my dick right now," he said, laughing to himself and appreciating the momentary relief that it brought. "But it won't be poetry 'cause it's kinda hard to think."
"I'm turned on, too," Carol assured him. She kissed his neck and he gritted his teeth.
"Yeah?" He asked, backing up just to get himself some air and the chance to regain some control. She let him go. She didn't seem offended. Instead, she started working her way out of her clothes. Daryl welcomed the distraction, for a moment, that taking off his own clothes gave him. He didn't want to watch her get undressed. If he did, every little thing, when it was revealed to him—every freckle, every scar, every dimple—would just make him want her more and, if he wanted this to last long enough for her to get anything out of it at all, he needed to take a minute to at least breathe.
She barely kicked her clothes out the way, and she remained by the door. Daryl kicked his own clothes out of the way, near the window. The room kept some distance between them for just a second. He let himself look at her because he couldn't resist. She was beautiful. Perfect. And he made his way back over to her.
"How do you know?" He asked, aching to hear her voice say the words.
She wiggled. Squirmed. Daryl found the action amusing, since he was almost certain it was either involuntary or dreadfully close to it.
"How do I know what?" She asked him.
"That you're turned on," Daryl offered.
Carol laughed to herself.
"You're serious?" She asked.
"I know I'm turned on 'cause—my dick's throbbin'," Daryl said. "Damn near killin' me. Hard enough I could probably use it to kill someone." He swallowed and shook his head. He let his hand trail over her cheek, down her neck, over her collarbone, and down to her breast. He let his thumb roll back and forth over her nipple. She squirmed, again, as her nipple rose to attention under his thumb. With no protest, he leaned and, drawing it into his mouth, harassed it with his tongue the same way that he'd done with his finger, curling his tongue around it. She let out a somewhat choked noise of pain or pleasure—the two seemed to blur, at times. "How do you know?" Daryl repeated before he moved to the other breast. Carol's fingers found his hair and she pulled it, scratching his scalp where she couldn't get the hold she wanted.
"Because I'm throbbing," she breathed out. "That's what you want?" Her voice went up at the end. A slight sound of amusement, maybe, but then she groaned when Daryl moved to kiss downward, bending his knee, to allow himself to reach her belly.
He didn't realize, until he'd asked her, that he wanted to hear about her arousal. He wanted to hear about her feelings and sensations. Maybe he just wanted confirmation that she wanted him as much as he wanted her—that she wanted him.
He wanted her to want him in every possible way, but any way would do.
"That all you got?" Daryl asked.
She shifted her position. She squirmed again. One hand went to his shoulder as he lowered himself down. The other pulled at his hair and scratched his scalp like her fingers didn't know what to do, but they knew that they couldn't stay still.
She groaned.
"I'm throbbing," she said. "It hurts but, in a good way. It hurts like—I just want you to touch me. I can't explain what it feels like. I want you inside of me. And I can feel how wet I am."
Daryl smiled against her belly before he planted another kiss there.
"How wet?" He asked.
"Wet," Carol said.
"How wet?" He demanded. He let his teeth scrape her skin—gently. He didn't want to hurt her. He only wanted to call attention to his presence. She responded with a noise that made him rest his forehead against her belly to take a moment and concentrate on the promise he was giving his dick that, if it would just be patient, this would all be worth it—so very, very worth it. "How fuckin' wet are you, Carol?" Daryl asked. "Tell me."
"So wet—I—I can feel it on my thighs," Carol said. There was a ripple of laughter that sounded like it rumbled in her throat. "Where you had your hand earlier."
"You want my hand there again?" Daryl asked, finally settling down on his knees. He could smell her arousal and it set off alarms in his brain. Carol hummed at him. She squirmed, pressing her thighs tight together. She was either trying to hide her arousal, or she was trying to find any pleasure and release she could. Daryl's dick throbbed, begging to help her. Daryl promised it would get its turn. He had no belief at all that Carol was going back on this. He leaned forward, kissed the front of her thigh. He nibbled the skin there, maybe a little harder than he meant to. The sensation of his teeth sinking into the softness of her thigh did a little to relieve the overwhelming pressure he felt elsewhere. Carol responded to the bite. "Sorry," Daryl breathed against her leg, realizing he'd bitten her far harder than he'd intended.
"No," Carol said. "It's fine. It's good." She panted at him. She was no more accustomed to asking for what she wanted and saying what she liked than he was. He would never have imagined he liked such a thing, so much, but he did. He felt his cheeks occasionally run warm with embarrassment, but he felt safe with her. He might embarrass himself, but she wouldn't embarrass him.
And he wouldn't embarrass her.
"Got your legs so damned tight together—it's like a vice," Daryl said, kissing her thigh again, right where her legs were practically twisted together. He leaned and licked at her, his tongue brushing against the point where her thighs met. He got to his feet. He faced her again. Her mouth was partially open—he might have believed she was suffering if there were any sign that she wanted to escape him. He was almost certain that there were tears on her lashes. He kissed her, and she responded to the kiss. He slipped his hand down and rubbed his fingertips at the tight line between her thighs. "Spread your legs, sweetheart. Let me feel how turned on you are."
Carol locked her eyes on his and it nearly unnerved him, but he held her eyes. She shifted and spread her legs, as he'd requested, enough for him to slip his hand between them. He ran his fingers against her, witnessing that she hadn't lied about her arousal. She opened her mouth to him and panted at him in the simplest response to his touch.
It was all he could take. He turned her body and she moved, willingly following his silent instructions. He moved one of her hands to either doorframe as he kissed the back of her neck and her shoulders. He slipped his hand down, and bumping her thighs with his fingers, talked her into spreading her legs a bit more and giving him the access that he needed.
"This OK?" He asked. "You gotta—tell me it's OK."
"Oh," Carol mumbled, changing her position just a little as she apparently got herself comfortable. She leaned her face against the inside of her arm. "Please."
Daryl couldn't stand it any longer, and he could wait for no more confirmation than that. He slid into her, all at once, and she clenched tight around him. He bit her shoulder, in response, and she cried out.
"Shit—sorry," he panted.
"Please—good," she stammered. "Hard."
The cavemanesque language was enough for both of them. Daryl was glad that Carol thought she might like something a little forceful from him, because he felt almost unable to control his thrusts. He held her hips and drove into her. She cried out, but he no longer apologized to her. She didn't ask him to stop. She didn't protest. She only asked for more, and he fully intended to give her what she wanted until they were both spent to the point of having nothing more to offer each other.
She dropped one hand from the doorframe and Daryl held onto to her hips, hard, to keep from driving her into the door. He could feel she was close. Then he felt the rippling in her muscles as she locked down onto him when she cried out, louder than before. Her cries only inspired him to move faster and harder in search of what his body ached for. When he came, there was nothing he could do but stand a moment, still inside her, until gravity and nature separated them, and lean against her back, peppering it with kisses in between gulping down air.
The words he most wanted to say practically tickled at the back of his throat. He swallowed them down and rested his face against Carol's neck. He pulled off of her enough to be sure that he wasn't forcing her to support his weight, but she didn't move away from him just yet.
They both jumped, and Daryl instinctively tightened his hold around her, when there was loud banging on the other side of the door.
"OK! Either that's murder or fucking, and if you don't give me some indication of which one, I'm coming in!" T-Dog yelled through the door.
Carol sucked in a sharp breath and squeaked out a noise in response. Daryl laughed to himself, raising his body up and helping her to straighten up.
"I got the feelin' it ain't a secret no more," Daryl offered. Carol only laughed in response.