Chapter 25: Daryl Takes the Lead

As soon as she turned off the flashlight, Carol regretted it.

She hated to lose the light, because his face was the only clue she usually got about what the quiet hunter was thinking. And if any part of what he wanted included nudity, she was even sorrier to lose the sight of that. But then, neither one of them were exactly confident about their bodies.

When it came time to change clothes, Daryl retreated even further into the cover of the woods than Beth did, whereas the rest of the group had gotten comfortable enough that they barely even turned their backs anymore.

His voice rumbled out of the darkness. "You don't like it, you gotta say."

"I will," she whispered back. "But I'm not going to hold it against you if you try something that's not my favorite. How else would we ever figure it out?"

He didn't touch her. As she waited in the dark to see what he'd do, the theatrical thumping of the bed next door started to get inside her head a little. She tried not to think of Glenn and Maggie over there, but her mind was full of nude bodies straining together, slick with sweat. And as much as she didn't want to admit she felt it, there was something erotic about the two couples so close together. Both exploring each other's bodies…

Carol clamped her eyes closed, even though it was dark. She was just too pent-up, that was all. She was about to make a joke to break the tension when he touched her.

It was just the tips of his fingers brushing against her throat. She jumped, and he jerked away. "Sorry, I'm okay. I can't see a thing, that's all." She groped blindly for his hand and brought it back to her neck when she found it. "Feels nice."

His hand crept closer, from fingertips to his whole fingers sliding over her skin. Carol's head went light and tingly, and it felt like all the blood in her body was pumping through the hot veins in her throat, ultra-sensitive to his touch. So when his mouth touched her there, she shivered and a scrap of a moan pulled free from her lips.

Silently, she blessed Maggie for her camouflaging cries from the other room. Daryl's sparse beard thrilled the skin above Carol's collarbone as he laid another tentative, close-mouthed kiss against her neck.

"Tickle?" he rumbled at her when she shuddered again, her toes curling beneath the sheets.

"No. But it feels more than nice," she said hoarsely.

He nuzzled her a little, his nose stroking along her jaw beneath her ear. "Didn't do too much of this, back before. The fuckin' part, yeah, but not all the rest." He paused. "Sorry. Shouldnta said it like that."

She smiled, holding very still in hopes that he'd keep kissing her neck. "You didn't shock me, Daryl. I don't mind when you're blunt. I mean, it's a little rude to tease by telling me you know plenty about the sex part, but other than that…"

He hesitated, then an amused breath chuffed out of him.

She grinned into the dark room. There was something about being able to set a powerful man off-balance with the lightest of flirtations. It reminded her of a feeling so long gone from her life that she barely remembered if she'd ever had it. It reminded her of that red dress, pulled from a car trunk and held up against her body like the memory of pert breasts, lush thick hair. All the things she'd had once upon a time, before Ed.

Daryl made her feel her sexuality all in a rush, like magic.

She'd said it was his turn to lead, but she couldn't help her hand creeping up onto his hip, finding bare skin just above his belt. His fingers jerked against her, his breathing stuttering just as hard. Slowly, she slid her hand under his shirt, stroking his skin with her thumb as she went. Not exactly sure if she was seducing him or soothing him.

All she knew was that she could make his big hands tremble, and his entire body freeze into place like he couldn't concentrate on anything else as long as she was touching him. Ed used to watch football games while she pleasured him, when he wanted to relax. The thought gave her a sudden, perverse urge to unbutton Daryl's pants and see what his reaction would be if she took him in her mouth.

Her hand moved around to his back, her nails tickling just above his waistband and enjoying the tensing of his muscles in her wake. Her fingertips crossed slight ridges in his skin, but she didn't think much of it until he pushed at her shoulder, quick and panicky. "Don't."

She jerked her hand back, her heart pounding at his rejection. She shouldn't get bossy, Ed had told her a thousand times. It was unladylike, it was disgusting to men…

She blinked and shoved her late husband out of her mind. Scars.

That's what those ridges were, on Daryl's back. She knew how marked he was, beneath his clothes. Her libido had run away with her in this dark room with the sounds of sex drifting through from next door.

He wasn't touching her anymore; had backed off entirely. She bit her lip, knowing this was a turning point. If they stopped here, they'd both be so mortified that he might not risk doing anything with her again. For months or maybe ever.

"Okay," she said, keeping her voice calm. "That's okay. I won't touch your back. Can I—are there other places that are okay?"

His fingers brushed her arm, settled softly there after a second. "Yeah."

She scooted a little closer, face to face with him though she could hardly see a thing. "Can you tell me where?"

"Ever'place else," he grunted. "Don't mind."

"All right." She brushed his hair back, warmth filling her up to bursting at even that small step forward.

She ran her nails along his scalp like he'd enjoyed last night. He immediately dropped his head forward to give her better access and she smiled. Taking his hand, she nudged it under her shirt, onto the swell of her hip. "I don't mind if you touch my back," she said, trying to keep the mood light.

He moved his hand under her shirt, his smallest finger skimming the waistband of her panties in the back, and Carol's smile vanished as she struggled to catch her suddenly escalating breath. His calloused fingers trailed up the slight dip marking her spine. When they found the line of her bra, they twitched and started back down again. She leaned into his chest, giving him free rein, and he dropped his head back to her neck again, brushing scratchy kisses along the line of her pulse.

Every place on her body was suddenly the most sensitive thing she could imagine. His touches stayed chaste, tentative, but sweat broke out over her skin. She squirmed, squeezing her bare thighs together as a slow burn built within her. She pressed closer to Daryl's fully-clothed body, the hardness of it a relief she felt more than understood. Her thoughts were growing muzzy, all made of heat and want. She swallowed against a dry mouth, her hands clenching on his shirt.

She tried to caress him, too, but she was so distracted by the sensations torching through her body that she was clumsy. Then his tongue touched her neck.

She jerked forward and a thick, hard line pressed into her belly for a bare second. He shifted his hips back, but his tongue grew bolder, giving open kisses to her neck now.

A moan sobbed out of her, made of breath more than sound, and a rumble from deep in his chest answered her. Would this be how it was now? Her learning an entire language of his grunts and rumbles again, this time the sexual ones. Her hands came to life again, this time to hold him so she could cuddle a little closer.

Her breasts skimmed his chest, her nipples so hard she wondered if he could feel them through her bra and shirt. Her hips rocked and she tried to hold back for a second, then gave up when he growled into his next kiss, his teeth scraping her for an instant as his tongue swept hot across her neck.

Carol bucked against him, pressing her panties right into the front of his jeans. Daryl's hand on her back wasn't gentle anymore. He clamped her into him, holding totally still as the line of his cock pulsed beneath his pants. She rocked against it, the need building in her making her bold.

He panted, his breath chilling the wet marks he'd left on her neck. "Carol?"

"I like this," she murmured, being as clear as she knew how to be. "Do you want to stop? Is this too fast?"

"No…" The word quivered out like a groan. He was rock hard from head to toe right now, his muscles quaking, and she had no idea why he was holding back. She slung a leg up over his hip, opening the heat at the core of her to him. She set up a slow, steady rhythm, rocking herself over his erection and even with his pants between them it felt so good her hands fisted in his hair.

He pushed a desperate, uneven kiss just beneath her ear and tipped his hips forward, offering the line of his arousal even more clearly for her to pleasure herself on.

A knock banged on a door.

They both froze, and the bed next door stopped squeaking. A few thumps came through, then a door flung open with a whoosh. "Seriously?" Maggie demanded.

"I might say the same to you," Rick said, but his tone was tight beneath the Georgia drawl. "Your triple X rating is seeping right through the door and doing a number on our PG13 over here."

"Not our door," Carol whispered. "Please Daryl, don't stop."

She wriggled against him, letting the thickness of his cock push against her panties, so she could rub it just exactly where she wanted it the most… She gasped, her movements going jerky and instinctive as desire wound tighter and tighter inside of her.

His arms closed around her, both of them straining to get closer. Her breasts raked heedlessly over his chest and dampness rushed beneath her panties. She wanted to rip them out of the way, to feel bare skin against skin. His hips thrust against her and her whole body went rigid with electricity.

"Don't stop," she gasped and then buried her face against his heated skin, breathing in shuddering gasps as her heel hooked around the back of his thigh, holding him right where she needed him as wave after wave of pleasure washed down her body.

When the last one receded, she fell slack. Half against Daryl, half onto the bed as the sounds of arguing went on in the other room. Glenn's voice joined in, something about tent walls and Rick being a hypocrite.

Carol reached up and touched the fly of Daryl's jeans where he was still rampantly hard, the fabric carrying a hint of dampness from her response. "Can I lead now?" she whispered, her fingers starting to pull his button open.

His hand clamped down on hers. "No, nuh-uh. They'll hear me," he whispered urgently.

"Clench your teeth," she said. "Like I did." She nuzzled a smiling kiss into his neck. "It's kind of sexy, trying to stay quiet."

"No," he said. "Not here. Not…I wanna be alone. When we do."

She stroked a wistful hand down the impressive length of him. "Okay."

She wasn't exactly surprised. Intimacy wasn't easy for Daryl, and she was more than a little flattered that she was the only one he trusted to be near him in that ultimate moment of vulnerability.

To remove temptation, she forced her hands north and cupped his jaw instead, pulling him in for a kiss more uninhibited than any they'd shared yet. "It's just not fair," she whispered. "You have no idea how good that felt."

"Felt plenty good," he rasped. "C'mere."

Rick and Maggie kept bickering next door but apparently all Daryl's practicing on her neck had taught him a thing or two about using his tongue because once he started kissing her, she didn't hear a word of the rest of the argument.

Author's Note: Sorry, guys. I did try my best, but apparently it takes more than 60,000 damned words to get Season 2 Daryl to have sexual relations with an auditory audience.