Here we go! Chapter 30! I can't believe we made it this far. It has been almost two years to the day that I first published the first chapter. Thanks for sticking with it through the long absences and cruel delay of desires.
Onwards, upwards, smutwards.
Daryl had expected her to be shocked by his uncharacteristic decision, his impulsive physicality. He had expected her to stumble backwards in shock, her eyes wide and trying to comprehend this change of approach. He had expected her to ask, "Why?", to make him stop and talk her through his thought process.
He had not expected her to wrap and lock her arms around his neck, jumping onto his strong frame and coiling her long, lean legs around his hips. His own arms took him by surprise as they snaked around her small waist and secured her against him, their lips never missing a beat in the embrace.
His tongue begged for entrance to her lips, and she hastily granted it. Her eyes slid back as she tasted the scent she always craved from him. His short, broken nails digging into her sides told her the intoxication was mutual.
They raggedly broke apart for air, Daryl resting his cold forehead against her warm temple as he panted. Star breathed deeply and gasped, "Our room. Now."
He simply shook his head against hers. "Too far," he replied, and she laughed joyously at his assessment and want. Uncurling her legs from around him, she slid slowly to the floor, using her arms to let her weight drag slowly across his hardening member. His limbs locked in discomfort at this obvious show of sexuality, but his eyes remained on her mischievous lenses. Finally, her feet found the ground, and her fingertips found his hand.
"Then somewhere closer," she responded, and was yanking him towards the closest door before he had the chance to register what his feet were doing. They stumbled through the doorway and Star slammed the door shut behind them, encasing them in a small, dark space. Daryl took a half beat to peer in the dark, chuckling to himself as his back collided with metal shelves.
"Th' pantry?" he teased at her, and she shoved him roughly against the door, her lips already engulfing his. The humor of their location was instantly forgotten in the heat of the moment.
Daryl forgot. He forgot his self-consciousness as she caressed his jaw and cheeks with her fingertips. He forgot his shame at his slight frame as his leg was caught between her thighs, a willing prisoner to her rhythmic pulsations. He forgot to insult himself as he whispered her name, his tongue flicking her ear instead of harsh words. He forgot that his hands were only good at hurting, as they peeled her t-shirt and shorts from her skin as if they were made of air. He forgot the sting of his scars as she ran her tongue over his back, using her teeth to remove his shirt. He forgot his assigned place in society as he gazed upon her naked figure, barely lit by the light sneaking under the door, basking in the feeling that she had chosen him. He forgot that he was a loner, a rogue, unwanted as she tangled her limbs with his on the floor, her long hair curtaining around them as she lowered her warm, wet center to his standing cock and encased his being in hers.
His eyes slid back and closed at the feeling of finally, finally being home.
Star wasn't content to let him experience the unspoken transcendence. She wanted it to be concrete on every level. Keeping him entirely immersed inside of her, she reached forward and trailed her fingertips across his features, lingering on his lips and face.
"Daryl," she whispered. He pried an eye closed, his fingertips flexing and kneading at her hips.
"Star," he responded in kind.
"Be here," she coaxed. "Please."
Weeks ago, he would have been bewildered and confused by her vague request, but now he knew this woman, this entity, almost better than he knew himself. She had him flat on his back on the floor, straddling him, so he sat upright, keeping her firmly seated on and around him, and wrapped his arms around her.
Their eyes had adjusted to the low lighting well enough where she could see his eyes. They looked both terrified and calm, panicked and accepting. This was new, she realized suddenly. Daryl, although a lover by nature, had never made love.
"First time?" she asked quietly. He shook his head adamantly.
"I've had woman," he insisted. She smiled softly and slowly lowered her lips to his, lightly caressing at him but keeping a firm pressure. With the same timing, she rocked her core around him, feeling him pulse deep within her.
"That's not what I'm asking," she clarified, still waving her abs and rocking her ass in a way that resembled an ocean's tide. He looked down at the rippling of her body and groaned, dropping his head to her clavicle. She wove her fingers through his hair, gently tugging at it in a playful and assertive way.
"You've never loved," she stated more specifically. "And you've never been loved."
He lifted his head from her shoulder and roughly pulled her by her neck down to his lips, biting softly at her.
"Not like this," he hissed in pleasure between bites. That vulnerability and aching honesty seemed to reach deep within her, and she began to grind on him more furiously, her nails digging into his scalp and her gasps of pleasure echoing in his ears. Daryl, motivated by her reaction, began thrusting into her in time, pouring a torrent of words out into the air between them.
"Can't tell ya why, but ya….you…Star…" he rasped. "You."
She began to whimper, slamming herself into him as all decadence and artistry was forgotten into the rawness of him. He followed her lead, following his pleasure as he drove himself deeper and deeper into her, relishing in the feeling of her warmth flexing and tightening around her.
"Daryl…oh my god…." She panted. "Yes….I'm…."
Her final push was a blur of squeezing, pulsing and waving as her orgasm took ahold of her, and she muffled her scream of ecstasy into his shoulder as he bit down onto hers, feeling himself flood into her as he groaned out the last of the air in his lungs.
They lay as a tangle of limbs and sweat, breathing rapidly and waiting to regain control of their bodies. Star seemed to recover first, hauling herself off of him and reaching down to kiss him deeply. Daryl blushed slightly in the dark, but kissed her back and pulled away with a small smile.
His smile faded rapidly as the noisy sounds of the kitchen broke through their small corner of the world. Beyond the door, pots and pans were being metallically clanked, voices chattering happily as cabinets opened and chairs scratched at the tile floor.
Star's eyes widened as she came to the same realization; the family was awake, and in the kitchen for breakfast. Daryl's horrified expression met hers, and she suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh at the situation. Daryl was relieved she was taking it so well, and cracked a smile, too.
"Oh Christ," she whispered, handing his clothes to him as he threw hers at her head. "What do we do?"
He shrugged, pulling his jeans and belt back on as quietly as possible. "Wait?" he guessed.
She thought it over. "Yeah...but I'm famished," she said, shoving him playfully. He blushed and chewed on his lip.
Star sighed deeply in the dark next to him.
"We are never going to live this down," she lamented in his ear.
He looked over at her, her gold eyes sparkling and her long hair a disheveled mess, a bemused smile playing at her lips. He quickly captured them for a small and tender kiss.
"There's worse things," he responded, and threw the pantry door open.
TA-DA! Daryl and Star finally consummate their relationship, a la "Trapped in a Closet". What do you think?