Summary: My attempt to fill in the gap of all that delicious time between the couch and the bedroom. This is a long one,
From the Couch to the Bed
Rick's lips are soft, softer than she has ever imagined. Not that she has thought about it, but the softness is no less unexpected. He's a great kisser. On top of her, pressing her into the sofa, Michonne is momentarily lost. As if sensing the head-spinning going on inside of her brain, Rick pulls back, looks down at her and smiles. She can't help but return his joy. This is happening. Her fingers caress his stubble, slide into his hair. She guides him back to her mouth. His tongue is soft, gentle, seeking. He pulls back again, but this time he sits up completely, pulling her with him. She's straddling him now. His hands rest on her hips as he goes in to continue the kiss. He moans in her mouth and it sets her on fire.
Rick grips her hips firmly, pulls her closer so she is sitting fully on him, on the bulge in his jeans. His mouth trails away from her lips, over her jaw, down to her neck. His hands slide up her sides, fingers slip under her tank top, dance up her spin. She shivers. He does it again, up and down her spin. His mouth loves on her collarbone, one side then the other, leaving warm wet kisses there. Michonne arches into him, head tips back, allowing him full access. Rick's fingers brush over her bra strap once then twice and she knows what he wants.
She reaches around, lifts the back of her shirt and unhooks her bra. Rick returns his attention to her mouth, sucks on her plump bottom lip. Michonne slips the left strap out through the armhole. He stops doing that delicious thing he is doing to her mouth. He watches her pull her bra out though the right armhole like he has just witnessed a magic trick. She bites back a grin at the wonder on his face. Beit he has never seen a woman do that before, or he is overjoyed by the knowledge that only a thin layer of fabric separates him from her breasts. The way Rick goes in for the kiss again, one hand on the back of her neck, the other on her bottom, she surmises it's the latter.
There's a laugh in her throat at his eagerness. It quickly slips into a moan when his hands move under her top, caresses her sides, travels around to cup her breasts. The skin on his hands is rough against the silk of her breasts. She likes this. Rick is a man from the top of his soft chestnut curls to the bottom of his callused feet. He lifts her shirt higher, dips his head and engulfs one of her pert breasts, worrying the taut nipple with his tongue. A sigh escapes her lips. Rick has skills. He moves to her other breast, tongue flicking, teeth nipping, lips sucking. She arches again, inviting him take what he wants. The invitation is accepted. Rick makes a move to yank her tank top up and over her head.
Michonne snaps out of her lust-filled stupor. "Wait, wait."
Rick doesn't seem to hear her. He is still devouring her breasts and trying to remover her top.
She giggles softly as the shirt gets caught on her chin. "No, no, no."
"Yeah." Rick stops that wonderful thing he is doing with his tongue against her nipple.
"No, wait."
She leans back to fully see his face. His expression nearly makes her laugh out loud. He looks like a boy whose favorite toy has been taken away. Michonne tugs down her shirt, covers her breasts. He really pouts then.
"Shouldn't we…maybe go somewhere else? I mean Carl could—"
Rick stands so quickly, Michonne nearly topples to the floor. He catches her, rights her. She wraps her legs around his waist. His hands grip her bottom. He heads toward the steps, his room, even though her room is closer. Is he going to carry her all the way? No man has ever done that. Rick is the only man who has. He carried her when they first met. Had no choice, other than leaving her for the walkers. Men in her past assumed she was too strong, too independent to ever want a man to do something so sexy, so domineering as to carry her off to bed. They were wrong. She is and always has been a full female. Romantic as well as strong and independent. She kisses him. Just because. Just because she can, because he is the kind of guy who would carry her even though they both know she does not need or expect it.
As they reach the bottom step, she remembers something. She breaks the kiss and says, "Wait."
Rick snorts a laugh. "What now?"
She smiles at him. "Put me down, please."
He complies, giving her ass a squeeze as he does so. The instant her feet hit the floor she dashes off to her room and grabs her Katana. As she returns to the living room, striding quickly, she picks up Rick's gun, hands it to him.
He lifts a brow. "Think we gonna need these?"
"Maybe." She winks as she passes him, heading up the steps. There is no need for him to carry her now. He was able and willing and that is enough for her. Michonne precedes him into his bedroom. She leans her sword against the nightstand closest to the entrance. Rick closes the door with a soft click, walks over to the other side of the room and places his gun on the other nightstand.
They face each other. The bed separates them. This has happened to Michonne before. A long, long time ago. A break in the passion. Ruins the flow, kills the moment. Not tonight. The corner of Rick's mouth lifts. She matches his smile, locks eyes with him. Slowly she walks down her side of bed to the end. Eyes still on him. She lifts her arms, unties her headband. Her locs fall into her face, causes her to lose eye contact with him for an instant. As she rounds the end of the bed, gaze back on his, she lifts her top, pulls it over her head in one fluid motion. It's tossed to the floor.
Rick Adam's apple bobs as he watches her approach. She steps right up to him. Slim fingers make quick work of unbuttoning his shirt for him. It seems wrong to speak now. No words are needed. All she needs are his eyes on her, giving her a look she has never seen on the face of any other man. Unbridled need, unrestrained desire. Reverence. When his shirt is off, Rick hooks one hand behind Michonne's neck, the other at her waist. He pulls her to him and they share a shocked breath at their first skin-to-skin contact.
The shock dissipates instantly, makes way for arms around each other and deep searing kisses. Rick turns them, gently but firmly lowers Michonne to the bed. Before she can scoot in place, he attempts to unbutton her pants. He quickly discovers there is no button or zipper, only a flap made to look like a fly. They are stretchy pants that fit snugly and gives her mobility. Rick hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs. Her underwear slips down along with the fitted pants. She lifts her hips and allows Rick to completely undress her.
While her eyes remain on his face, Rick takes in every inch of her long, lean body. She scoots up the bed, rests her head on the pillow. Such scrutiny should make her uncomfortable, but this is Rick. There is no hiding from him. He knows her like no other. His eyes travel to hers, now that they have feasted on her form. He undoes his gun belt, lets it drop to the floor. Next he opens belt, unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. The loose-fitted jeans fall to the floor with little effort. Michonne's eyes leave Rick's gaze, travels down his chest, over his tight abs and stops at the tent in his boxers. Rick wastes no time divesting himself of the one last barrier. When he straightens, from tugging the underwear from his foot, Michonne's eyes widen slightly.
Rick is not huge, but he is healthy. Thicker than he is long. Just as she likes it. She would rather be filled than stabbed. His erection juts forward like an angry fist. Michonne forces herself to meet his eyes again. Rick climbs on the bed. Gaze fixed on her. He lies half on her, half off, propped up on his left elbow. He brushes a few stray locs away from her face. Smiles as he dips his head to meet her lips. His right hand explores her curves. Over her breasts, across the taut plains of her abdomen and down her hip to her thighs.
She weaves her fingers into his curls, holding his face to hers, his mouth against her mouth. Tongue against tongue. She wants him so badly, torn between rushing and relishing. His moans, his kisses, his hands send her spiraling. The kissing and groping grows to a fevered pitch. Michonne is so happy that she took extra minutes to groom herself this morning. Shaved her underarms, calves and trimmed between her legs. Not that Rick would care, but she does.
His hand slips between her legs, cups her sex. He breaks their long, deep kiss with a guttural groan. She is so wet, embarrassingly so. Except, she isn't at all embarrassed. She wants him to know how much she wants him, what he does to her body. Rick dips his head, takes one of her breasts in his mouth. Michonne moves her leg, allows him better access to her center. His fingers toy with her slick folds, circle her sensitive nub. She releases her grip on his hair, slides her hand down to cover his, rolls her hips. Rick looks up at her with such lust in his eyes. She finds it hard to contain herself. His lips are pump, kiss swollen and flushed. His pupils are dilated, only a sliver of blue shows.
Rick moves both of their hands from between her legs. He shifts, bringing himself fully on top of her. Michonne opens her legs wider, brings her knees level with his hips. He looks down on her, mouth slightly open as if he can't catch his breath. Then he lowers his head, rests his forehead against hers. Nose to nose. Mouth to mouth. She can feel his erection, poised at her entrance, but he isn't moving.
She cocks her head to the side, smiles up at him. "What?" she whispers.
He presses his lips to hers, pulls back slightly and says, "It's…it's been a while."
Michonne smiles wider. "Yeah. I know. Me too."
He nods, bites his lip. "I might not…it might be…fast."
Oh, that's what he's worried about. She doesn't smile, or make light. Runs both her hands down his whiskered jaws, kisses his lips, his nose, his chin. "It's been a long time for me too, Rick." She speaks softly, looks him in the eyes when she does so. "I don't care how quick it is."
"You say that now," he grumbles. "But three seconds from now when I'm done…"
She laughs a breathy sound and then looks at him seriously. Only desire in her eyes and voice. "We have all night."
"All night," he says, matching her lusty tone.
He goes in for a kiss, deep and consuming. There is no more talking. None needed. His hands touch every part of her he can reach. She strokes his back, down to his firm bottom. She brings her knees higher alongside his hips. The tip of his penis presses into her center, and then he joins them, fills her, stretches her. Rick tears his mouth away from hers with a groan. His breathing is thick as thrusts slowly. Michonne rolls her hips, matches his slow rhythm. He drops his head beside hers. Raspy breaths fill her ear. The slick sounds of their thrusting and Rick's ragged breaths seems so loud, so sexy. Threatens to send her over the edge any second.
The pace increases, still steady yet not as measured. It's like they want to relish each stroke but their bodies have different ideas. She is panting now. It won't be long now. Rick hooks his forearms under her knees, brings her legs higher and wider. The slight adjustment is all it takes. She comes. A quick pop of release that sends her inner muscles clenching like a quivering fist. Rick follows. His entire body stiffens to one corded muscle as he empties his soul into her.
He relaxes, collapses. Bodies slick with a sheen of sweat, they lay together. Breathe in each other. His full weight is on her, but she likes it. Her fingers run through his damp curls. He kisses her neck then slides off her, pulls her with him. They face each other, arms and legs tangled together. Silly matching smiles. Smiles that say, 'I can't believe we just did that' yet also say, 'why'd we wait so long?' She is exhausted and somehow ready, willing, eager to go again. As with most times in their relationship, Rick seems to read her mind.
He bites his lip, suppresses a goofy smile. "All night, you said, right?"
A/N: I thought long and hard about what went on in that bedroom. As much as I'd like to see, think, imagine all the wild sex Rick and Michonne had and will have, I feel like their first time was some plain ole missionary. Not that it was at all plain, and experts say missionary is the most intimate way a couple can be together. I hope you all found this as hot and loving as I did. Rest assured, however, this is not the end of that night. The next few chapters well share more love, as well as plenty of pillow talk I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for. Please let me know what you think in the comments! See you soon!
