Disclaimer: I don't own them, except for Fin...and I wouldn't try separating them if I were you, they get cranky. O_o

Notes:This chapter and it's contents are M Rated for Sure! xD Enjoy!

updated 5/19 for a few missed typos and word correction! Thanks Guys! :P

Chapter Thirty

(Fin's POV)

The second I hear the twig snap I know it's got to be him.

I push up onto my elbows watch the shadows in the darkness slowly shape themselves into his form. I wait till he's standing in the firelight before I speak.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He should be with the others, not here with me. If they still think I'm infected, him being out here alone with me will drive them crazy.

"It's too cold out here."

I frown at him, sweep my arm towards the house.

"Then go back." He looks down for a moment, face pulled into a twisted expression; not quite a scowl-I'm starting to recognize it as his 'what the hell do I say face.'

I wait while he prepares whatever argument he's about to make; I know what he wants. And it's not an option. He stares at me, still looking pensive.

We don't speak for a full minute.

"You should come back with me."

My throat closes even though I expected it. "No."

He moves closer to me. I sit up the rest of the way, not sure what to expect. Is he going to try to drag me into the house with everyone else? If he tries it I'm going to kick his ass.

He moves faster then I expect his face unreadable in the low light. Without warning he's right on top of me, knees suddenly on either side of my hips pinning me in my own sleeping bag.

His hands circle my upper arms. I jerk back pulling him off balance fully expecting him to move back as he's always done before when we get close, retreat and give me a chance to get away… at least put some space between us so I can get my heartbeat under control.

He doesn't let go, though; jerks me back towards him instead.

I twist trying to shove him off me and we go down in a tangle of limbs. He grunts with effort, kicks off the ground and rolls us again until I'm pinned once more.

I kick in a futile attempt to knock him off of my waist, but my legs are trapped in the sleeping bag twisted around my hips. His fingers lock around my biceps press me into the dirt, his nose inches from mine.

My hands are on his hips from my attempt to push him away the first time; the edge of my palms are pressed against warm bare skin under his shirt.

One of my fingers brushes cold metal, I jerk, twisting one shoulder off the ground to give me the reach I need to snatch the knife he keeps clipped to his belt loose. I tossing it with a flick of my wrist quickly even as he wraps his fingers around my forearm trying to jerk my hand away from the blade's handle. I've seen him stab more than a few Walkers with expert precision using that very blade; I don't want to see a demonstration up close tonight, still not sure what this is about…

We both hear it thud softly against the dirt somewhere out in the darkness.

He's silent, just that one edge of his brow raises while we stare at each other only inches apart, breathing hard.

I wait to see what happens next, now that he's disarmed. Though he doesn't look ready to attack me…I change my mind when his eyes fix to my lips.

He lets go of my wrist finally. I keep my hand frozen in the air between us unsure what to do with it. He raises his arm fingertips pinch the flannel collar of his shirt against my neck, he pulls it away eyes moving over the raw skin just above my clavicle.

I can't read his expression as he pulls the collar open further causing two of the buttons over my chest to pop open with his soft tug exposing more skin. I don't move, can barely bring myself to breath.

He shouldn't be here, shouldn't be touching me like this; running his fingertips down one side of my neck…I shiver under his touch watch his eyes darken further. I can't stop the tremble that works its way down my body as his fingers dip further down, tracing the smooth skin under the mark. They follow the line of my collar to the hollow dip just before the rise of my shoulder.

Just the barest of touches and my stomach is doing summersaults.

"When Jim got bit, he had a fever within hours," He's staring at the bite mark again.

It's been three nights since I fell off the roof.

His fingers move to trace the mark over my left temple half hidden in my hairline. The scab over the bullet graze that could have killed me. His palm slides over my temple down to my cheek, My breath leaves me with a rushed exhale when his thumb grazes my skin.

"You're not sick, Did Eli do this to you too?"

My mind seizes on that. If he could accept that…if they could…

I could keep him…

I wrap one hand around his neck, pull him down and press my lips against his. I gasp into his mouth when he presses me back into the ground. His hand slides from my cheek to cup the nape of my neck. His fingers curling in the knotted braid there holding me tightly to him; using his grip to tilt me into his kiss.

He stops holding himself over me, moving his other hand from around my arm to loop under my lower back, pressing his chest against mine. He's pinning me against the cold dirt where we've flipped off the material's edge making my heart race, but not because I'm afraid…

He pulls away from me after several delicious minutes, presses his mouth to my ear breathing unsteady. "I thought I lost you."

My insides twist, breath leaves me in a rush. So did I…

"So stop wasting time." I run my fingers through his hair, curl them into a tight fist steering his mouth back to mine.

The hand I was previously unsure where to place makes up for lost minutes gripping the muscle of his bicep. I angle my mouth under his, let my tongue trace over his bottom lip, moan my approval when he mirrors the action before tightening his hold on my hair.

Then he's pressing his mouth to the uninjured side of my neck, breathing me in. I gasp and squirm trying to get the sleeping bag tangled around my hips loose as he presses hot open mouthed kisses from my ear to shoulder, before slowly making the journey back to my mouth. Drawing me up to him with one hand, while his tongue slips over mine, invading my space; exploring me till I'm dizzy from lack of oxygen.

He pulls away and I draw in a shaky breath, let my fingers slide down his sides to the belt at his waist. I slip my hands between us. He raises himself a few inches allowing my fingers the space to twist between us, release his buckle, pop loose the top button and start to slide down the zipper covering him. He grabs my hand then, stops me from taking this further despite the catch in his breathing.

I twist finally pushing the thick sleeping bag down over my legs, kicking it away so that when he lowers himself only the thin cotton of clothing lies between us.

I bend one knee, hissing softly when it pulls at the wound I temporarily forgot about on my thigh; shake my head to tell him to ignore it when his eyes move back to mine. I raise my mouth to his again content to feel him pressed against me his heat radiating through me all the way to the bone; chasing the last of the night's chill from my body.

When I nibble his lip he grinds down into me with a growl, the firm bulge of his cock pressed to my center. Even fully clothed the sensation makes me sigh, gasp into his mouth, sends wet heat spiraling down through me to curl my toes.

I pull back trying to catch my breath fail when his mouth returns to trace the outline of my ear, trails down my neck again.

I drop my hands to my own buckles since he has made no move towards them himself. His hands still maddeningly chaste over my clothes despite the heat of his mouth; the hungry press of his hips against mine. I gasp again at the friction, arch my back and roll my hips up into his touch.

I work my buckles loose with a few quick jerks, slide my hands over my own waistband tugging them down over my hips. The action pulling his own pants lower so they sit just barely clinging to the swell of his perfect ass. He drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing harsh, hot against me even through the worn flannel shirt still separating his mouth from most of my skin.

I grab his belt over his hips, press down while he shudders.

The hand that was around my back slides out to slip over my skin. I twist my hips kicking my pants down till I can free my feet; raise my leg again, wrap one ankle over the back of his thigh parting my heat to press against him.

He shifts, elbow drawing back behind him so he can slide his palm up over my thigh, fingers tightening just above my knee holding me still so I can't draw my leg higher; stopping me from wrapping my calf around his hips.

So I roll them instead, feel him press into my thigh as he shifts his weight, his own hips jumping forward when he feels my heat.

My name tumbles out of him, his fingertips tightening mindlessly several times as he fights the urge to tilt his hips, align himself and thrust deep. I slide my hands down his sides, run my fingertips back up under his shirt lifting it's hem to expose more skin for me to explore.

I keep pulling till it's bunched under his arms, breath out a quick command of "off" watch as he releases my leg without hesitation, leans back on his heels to slide his shirt up over his head and tosses it away.

I follow him, not content to wait even the few seconds of separation. The need to take control, driving me to press my palms into his now bare shoulders, push him back to sit. He places one hand behind him palm down so he can straighten his legs out without falling, watching me.

I keep my fingers on his shoulders, climb over him to straddle his thighs again, just like last time. He doesn't pull away this time his only movement the rise and fall of each quick draw of breath.

His eyes look black in the dark, his skin jumps with shadows from the low flames to our right. I scoot forward, walking my way up his thighs on my knees till we're pressed together chest to chest. His free hand fists gently in the front lapels of the long flannel shirt still separating our skin.

He pops two more buttons at the top pulling one side over and almost completely of my shoulder, his fingertips tracing my other collar, skimming feather light across the circular and moon-shaped bruises painting my pale skin blue, and purple in the light.

I moan roll my hips into him when his mouth replaces them, tracing patterns across my sensitive skin, when he moves up my neck, teeth sliding ever so carefully on my ear, my fingers grasp the remaining buttons ready to pull them loose, offer him the rest of my skin to explore. I stop when his hand slides over mine.

"Leave it." I tilt my face up to him, hold his gaze for a moment before he flushes, turns his head away clearing his throat. "I like it."

He flushes harder, fidgets with the collar still clasped between his fingertips, his eyes dart to mine before sliding nervously away again.

I slide my fingers through his hair, lean to follow him; bring him back. I press against his body, feel him throb against my folds when I roll my hips, the hand at my collar slides back around my neck pulling me flush against his chest, embracing me with his kiss.

I arch my back, rub against him, don't recognize the noise that sensation pulls from me, but judging by the tightening of his hands, and the way his body tenses against mine he likes it.

My fingers dip between us, to wrap around him. He leans his forehead against mine breath hissing out on my name. I slide my palm over him, circle my thumb around the tip, listen as his breathing comes faster and his hips jerk towards my hand.

I can feel him shaking under my other hand as I slide my fingers down over his temple, smooth over his cheek; slip back across his neck to pull his mouth to me again.

I raise up on my knees, his hands tighten on my hips; he pulls back eyes locked onto mine in the dark. He knows what I'm doing now; after last time, his teeth press into his lower lip in anticipation. While his hands shake against my sides, fisting in his flannel shirt over my ribs.

I use my hand to guide him while he holds himself still, barely breathing. I can feel his heart pounding in his chest as I lean into him shifting my hips, sliding his tip through the wet heat gathered at my folds. His breath leaves him in a tight hiss, teeth tearing into his bottom lip with the effort to hold himself perfectly still beneath me. He trembles from head to toe the muscles in his arms standing out in stark relief, waiting like a coiled spring.

I push back and down feel him stop breathing completely as I sink over him. I have to take him slowly, my insides still ache and pull, protesting the intrusion; but if I'm going to be sore another day I want it to be because I chose it.

I want this, I want him.

I lean in again, press a whisper of a kiss to one side of his mouth…just like the first night when my touch made him whimper against my lips; tremble under my fingers.

Now it's my turn to do so when his lips chase mine, his palms cup my cheeks, touch so gentle it's barely there. I feel him throb and flex deep inside me, his body begging for more even as he fights the urge. His fingers are unbelievably gentle against my skin.

I rise up, just as slow as my first movements. His eyes follow me, palms press to my cheeks holding my gaze. Still not moving against me even when I lower myself back onto him, and his eyes squeeze shut breath tearing out of his lungs.

I let my hips roll against his, he feels good inside me, even with the aching protest of sore muscles not ready to be stretched so far.

I let my head drop forward, press my nose against the crook of his neck, his hands slide back till one cradles the back of my head. The other wraps around my shoulders, holding me against his chest.

"We can stop." His voice is quiet somehow steady despite our racing hearts, unsteady breath.

I shake my head against his skin, take his scent deep into my lungs. We can't stop.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is tight.

I grab his arm slide my fingers up to his elbow pulling his fingers away from my cheek; pressing a kiss to his palm while he watches me. I replace his hand against my side, press his fingers into my hip, raise myself up and slide back down again, tightening my fingers over his on my skin like a lifeline.

"Don't stop." I press against him, lean into him breath against his ear as I slide over him again, this time rolling my hips at the last second. He groans hips rocking against mine.

"Touch me, please." I need his touch covering up the others…erasing the memory from my skin, making me feel alive.

His hips move against mine finally. His palm pressed into my spine, dragging the next roll of my pelvis against his into a slow grind that has me gasping his name, his head tilts back, breath unsteady.

"Daryl," He doesn't open his eyes, "Please, it needs to be you, I need you."

I want his touch filling me with heat; chasing away the cold, the numbness; filling the ache. I probably shouldn't want him like this but I do, I'm shaking with it, the need to feel him deep inside me, feel him loose himself, crying out my name. I need to be his again, even if it might only be for a little while.

I slide over him, roll my hips into his thrust feel the barest of tingles starting under the ache, deep inside.

He's the one shaking again, eyes locking onto mine, his hands move to my hips. I cover them with mine, feel him lace his fingers between mine while I thrust against him setting a rhythm 'til his eyes slip shut.

I let go of his hands, press my palms to his shoulders, his eyes open to watch me, but he doesn't resist; leans away with my touch pliantly. He lifts his hands from my skin to brace himself, falls back when I continue to push him back.

He lets me press him all the way back to the ground. He tenses for a moment, watching me; seems to find something in my expression that relaxes him. He raises his hands slowly, places them on my thighs.

I place my hands over his, slide them up over my skin to my hips rolling against him sliding over him; keeping his palms against my skin. I gasping when his fingertips tighten over my hips. I rise up, almost leaving him, while his back arches just barely off the ground; stomach muscles tightening. His breath rushes out.

I pause for a moment, watch his eyes move to the space between us when I slip back over him again. Fascinated by the way his expression changes again, he bends one leg behind me, uses the leverage to thrust into my next movement. His hands slide to the small of my back, arms flexing with the next withdrawal lifting me up, changing the angle of my hips rocking into me. He watches his body slide into mine, his eyes darken with each thrust.

"You like that?"

His eyes flick to mine in response and I swear he blushes with me watching him even in the dark…

I take one of his hands in mine, press his palm to the flat plane between my hipbones where I can feel him pressed deeper with each thrust. I watch his lips part, his tongue dart out to wet his lower lip, breath catching as he feels it too.

"That's you." Now I blush, bit my lip.

I roll my hips, press my hand into his, his fingers shake under mine. He lets out a curse tilts his head back against the dirt and he thrusts unconsciously, bucking harsh and fast up into my heat.

He curses again, muscles shaking even as he stills under me, breath ragged; he's waiting for me to pull away from him.

I sigh instead, roll my hips over his in encouragement, watch him dip his chin to meet my gaze again. I move my hips in the same rhythm, watch his eyes drop to his hand, still pressed to the smooth skin bellow my navel.

His thumb slides over me and I let my eyes slip shut, feel his grip tightening around me, the fingers at the small of my back pressing me forward into his palm where he can feel each thrust inside me, each roll of our hips.

He's still staring at his hand pressed to my skin when I open my eyes again, change my angle ever so slightly and begin rocking over him; burying him with each downward press. I know he's feeling a part of himself buried tightly in mine, can feel how far he presses, how deep my head slips back with the shiver of heat the trickles down my spine.

I let my hips rise and fall, roll, quickening my movements 'til he's thrusting up against my rhythm, breathing nothing more than tightly controlled pants of my name lost in the darkness.

I lean forward let my palms rest on either side of his head, his hands slip back to my waist, pulling my hips forward grinding each rolling thrust with carefully controlled pressure against my skin. He arches his back bucks his hips up into mine and grunts my name, his fingers press into me with bruising force, and it feels fantastic to press back against him… can't describe the contentment I feel when he shudders and bucks hard; losing control. I watch his expression as his hips buck diving inside me to spill his release, as he lets go. I don't follow him, not ready not even close, but this is enough.

I lean down, curl against his chest while his arms wrap around me; his breathing fast and unsteady. His heartbeat races under my ear.

I wait for him to come back down, enjoy the circles and patterns he absentmindedly traces across my back over the flannel protecting us both from the cold. I tense when he lifts up, muscles flexing under me; his arms still wrapped around my back.

He mutters a soft "sleeping bag." As he moves, takes one hand from my back to shift us over setting us down onto the material I kicked free of earlier in the night. His hand presses to my shoulder blade keeping me to his chest when I start to pull back.

He tosses the bottom corners away, flattens it back out and lays down taking me with him still. Pulling the top portion back over us like we did so many times before…I let my legs stretch out, slide over his chest to curl against his side, feel his fingers trace over my side several times through the thin cotton.

I can feel his breath against my hair, his whisper tickles my ear. "Did I hurt you?"

I shake my head against his chest. I'm sore but I was sore and tight before.

I needed this, can't explain it, I'm not sure why myself.

His arm tightens around me he shifts, turning so we're chest to chest, my head tucked against his neck. He's warm, his breathing soothing.

I'm asleep within minutes.

:: walking dead ::