AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.
I hope you enjoy! If you enjoy, please don't forget to let me know! (I always love hearing from you and knowing you're there!)
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Carol sighed. She hadn't intended to sigh, but the sound escaped her before she even realized it would.
Daryl's lips left the back of her neck.
"Good?" He asked, his voice low and husky.
Carol laughed quietly.
"Wonderful, Pookie," she said.
She meant it. She was surprised, really, by how much she meant it.
Daryl sat behind her on the bed, both of them naked, and was simply spending some time nuzzling and kissing her body. Daryl was a man who enjoyed kissing, tasting, licking, and biting—though he never bit hard enough to break the skin. He enjoyed smelling her, too, and it tickled her sometimes when he did it, sending pleasant little shivers through her body. He liked the smell of Carol's body, in every way, even when she might think she would have to smell disgusting.
Daryl was a very tactile individual, and the way he wanted to spend their time basking in the proverbial afterglow, and waiting for the next time he was available to make love to Carol, was doing just what he was doing now.
Carol breathed in deeply and signed out again when Daryl returned to his work, clearly enjoying his practice like someone who was almost transfixed by their absolute absorption in a task.
His hands came around and massaged Carol's breasts gently. He'd already accepted the occasional leak, and he wasn't bothered by it at all. In fact, he included it in his tour of smells and tastes.
Carol could no more help the moan that escaped her than she could the sigh. Daryl caught her around the waist and pulled her back, more tightly fitting her body against his. He continued his work, almost seeming to soothe himself with the task he'd given himself.
"Won't be too long," he assured her. "Wantin' you bad."
Carol smiled to herself. He couldn't see her, but perhaps he knew the smile was there. She reached a hand and covered his. She reached the other hand back to find his thigh and gently stroke it. He slipped his hand down and finding her clit, worked it beneath his fingers.
Carol closed her eyes and her whole body tensed with pleasure and desire. She felt her breathing pick up as he worked her, all the while kissing at the crook of her neck and nuzzling her behind the ear.
"You wanna come for me?" He asked, his voice low.
Carol could feel the orgasm building. It wouldn't be difficult for Daryl to get her there. He'd gotten her there twice, already, after all. She tensed and leaned her head back. He laughed quietly near her ear.
"Come on…I got you. Come on. Let it go. What else you need? Tell me what'cha need, Carol."
Carol didn't have to tell him that, apparently, that was exactly what she needed. She didn't have to tell him anything, really. She rode out her orgasm, and he continued to try to coax it out of her—or, perhaps, to see if she would go again—until she breathed out that he could stop.
Sensitive, and admittedly a little shaky, she turned her body to kiss him. He enjoyed that. She could tell. She could taste his desire in his kiss. She could feel that he wanted to keep kissing her, and so she made no effort to stop. She cycled through various things she knew that he enjoyed, only ever pulling away just far enough to allow them each to draw a breath before diving back into each other's kiss.
Any fear that Carol had felt about being with Daryl again had faded after the first few minutes.
Daryl told her he had missed her, and she believed him, but when he showed her how much he'd missed her, she had no doubt left anywhere within her body—not even in her mind, where the darkest shadows seemed to live without too much hope of the light finding them.
He complimented the nightgown she'd found. There wasn't much in the way of lingerie, and the gown was merely cotton. It was white with little pink flowers on it, and it fell midway along her thigh. The scooped neck was sexier than a turtleneck, but it wasn't exactly something fit for the cover of Victoria's Secret.
Still, Daryl had looked at her like he was starving and she was the first thing he'd seen in weeks that he could devour for survival. He'd actually licked his lips, and though Carol imagined that some women would have criticized the gesture—one she felt was genuine, knowing Daryl—it had made her practically feel capable of soaring. She hadn't been afraid, after that, to take off the gown, rid herself of the cotton panties she'd found, and leave herself open for Daryl's careful study.
It was only once they were naked in the bed together, both a little tentative about what was to come, that Daryl had leaned close to her and said the words that had dissolved them both into the best kind of laughter they could share: "Just to be totally honest, I jerked off while you was havin' your moments to…you know…get ready."
The laughter unknitted muscles in Carol's back as surely as a massage. There had been no pressure for a moment. Daryl would need recovery time, and they were simply naked together to enjoy each other's company.
Once Carol had gotten Daryl over the initial so-called humps back at the prison, he had been an attentive lover. He'd been anxious to please and appreciative of praise. It had been good with him, then, but it was better, now.
He'd wanted her to relax, and he'd planted his face between her legs to urge her to do just that—taking his time so that, at least once, she'd scolded him for pulling back and prolonging things instead of taking her straight to the orgasm that he already knew how to coax from her body—there was a certain muscle memory, it seemed, to offering pleasure.
After she'd come, she'd accepted his teasing her with his fingers, thickly coated in lubricant, while they'd continued to simply enjoy each other's touches and kisses. For all the tension and worry she'd felt, the discomfort had truly been minimal when they'd finally come together, and Daryl had done his best to soothe her through what there was until, really, she found that it didn't matter to her in the least. It soon subsided, as she adjusted to him, and he'd found his release quickly, apologizing to her and insisting that he make it up to her with his fingers while they snuggled and enjoyed the afterglow.
Now, he'd given her another orgasm. Her body was sincerely tired. Soon, she knew, Dalia would be up and demanding her attention.
Soon, Daryl would be ready for her again.
"You don't get anything out of making me come like that," Carol pointed out.
"I get the whole damn world out of it," Daryl offered. "Do you know how damn long I waited for that? How damn long I was thinkin' that I'd never touch you again?"
Carol laughed quietly. She touched his lips, and he kissed her fingers and her hand, catching it so that he could kiss her palm and her wrist—all part of his tour, it seemed.
"Is that all you missed while we were apart?" She teased.
"Stop," Daryl said. "Don't be an asshole. Not right now. OK?"
Carol heard the sincerity in the request. Her stomach ached a little.
"I'm sorry," she said, equally sincerely. "I was only teasing. I won't do it again."
"I don't care that you tease me," he said. "Just—not now. Not about that."
She caught his face and held it. She looked into his eyes, for as much as she could see them in the dark.
"I know you love me," she said. "And I know you missed me—and not just for sex. I missed you, too. And, believe it or not, I missed everything, but I missed the sex, too."
She saw the corner of his mouth draw up. She hadn't expected that to be a confession that he would enjoy so much, but he seemed rather fond of it.
"I'm doin' you alright, though, right? I mean—it ain't like it was with him…"
Carol leaned and kissed him softly. He responded, leaning toward her, so she prolonged the kiss a moment more.
"Nothing with you has ever been like it was with him," she said. "It's been wonderful. You've been…wonderful, Daryl."
He looked genuinely pleased.
"Wait'll you see what the hell I got for you next," he said. "I won't be as sensitive as I was last time. It won't be a race against time."
As if she somehow sensed her daddy's plans and wanted nothing more than to ruin them, Dalia beckoned them from the other room very loudly—Carol had put her in her crib, instead of the bassinet—so that they wouldn't wake her. At first, when Carol had started letting her sleep there, she'd worried about her, but Dalia seemed to actually like her crib, and that was helping Carol cope better than she may have, otherwise.
"Everything we do is always going to be a race against time," Carol said. "At least for a while. I'm sorry…"
"The hell you sorry for?" Daryl asked as Carol got off the bed. He caught her hand and stopped her from leaving. Dalia would be fine for a moment.
"She's crying," Carol said. "I'll have to feed her and…it'll take at least a half an hour to get her back to sleep."
"So?" Daryl said, shrugging his shoulders and working her hand in his. "That's what babies do. It's what she does every night."
"It interrupted your plans," Carol said.
"I thought they were our plans," Daryl said.
"You know what I mean," Carol said.
"I do," Daryl said. "But I wanna make sure you do. I don't want you thinkin' this is all about me. Because—if it is? We'll stop right now."
He got up, and Carol realized he intended to follow her. He still held her hand, and she felt his fingers intertwine with hers as they walked toward the little nursery, both of them naked, but Dalia wouldn't care. It was a small gesture, but the feeling of their fingers knotted together, for no reason beyond the fact that Daryl wanted to hold her hand, was sweet, and it warmed Carol.
"They're our plans," Carol said. "But—the fact still remains that Dalia beckons."
Daryl laughed.
"You'll feed her," Daryl said. "I'll go smoke a cigarette. I'll burp her when I come in. Take her on a lil' walk up and down the hall like she likes. You'll—do whatever you need. We'll make it back in there. This is just a break."
"We're both going to be exhausted tomorrow," Carol said.
"You wanna go to bed?" Daryl asked. "I mean—after you feed her, and all. She don't seem willing to negotiate."
Carol settled in the chair with the baby. Dalia was not, as Daryl said, willing to negotiate at all. She knew what she wanted, and she was very adamant that her needs came first and foremost. Of course, nobody else in the house would argue with her on that point. Carol got her situated to nurse and, once Dalia was settled, turned her attention back to Daryl.
"No," she said. "I don't want to go to bed. We'll be tired tomorrow, but…it'll be worth it."
Daryl smiled, his face barely visible except for the fact that Carol's eyes were well and truly adjusted to the darkness around her.
"That's what I was thinkin'," Daryl said. "But—I'da gone either way. Wahtever you want, really. I mean that. No pressure."
"I know you do, Pookie," Carol said. "And I appreciate it. But—I meant what I said. I'd rather stay up tonight. It'll be worth it."
Daryl hummed.
"You good? You need anything?"
"We're settled for a bit," Carol said. "I'd like some water, though."
"I'll bring you some. Gonna go smoke."
"Daryl," Carol said, calling him back as he started to leave the room.
"Hmmm?" He hummed, turning back.
"Put some pants on before you go outside," Carol said with a laugh.
"Pssh," he hissed. "Goin' to get your water. Gonna put my damn pants on then, Woman."
Carol laughed at his tone.
"I just don't want anyone else seeing what's mine," Carol said.
He pointed at her.
"That goes for me, too," he said. "So, you just remember it."
"Daryl," Carol said, when he'd turned to leave again. He stuck his head back in the door.
"You gonna thirst to damn death 'fore you let me bring you water," he pointed out.
Carol laughed.
"I love you, too," she said.
Daryl snorted.
"I love you, too. Now—lemme get the damn water!"
"Daryl…" Carol said.
He growled in the hallway, and Carol's laughter escaped much more loudly than before.
"Just kidding, Pookie," she offered.
"You better be glad I love you, Woman," Came his response.
"I am," she called out. "You have no idea just how much," she said, more to herself than to him, since he'd already slipped down the hallway toward the bedroom.
