Chapter Seven: Broken Barriers
Carol slid her key into the lock, giving him a side-eyed stare before she pushed the door open. She worriedly bit her lip, taking in the deathly white pallor of his skin. She desperately hoped he wasn't going to have a panic attack. He was nervous, of course; it practically radiated from his every pore. She just wondered if she'd be able to soothe his fears when her own were clamoring to spill out of her.
She left him there to lock up for the night, moving over to the french doors which led out onto their small private balcony. She threw them wide and breathed in the fragrant breeze as if wafted past her and into the room. "Daryl? There's some beer in the mini-fridge … would you like one?" she asked softly. "It might help you relax."
RELAX?! He felt as if his skin were trying to crawl right off his body and she was telling him to relax. Gawd! "Y want one? I don't think y' even had any wine with dinner."
Carol shrugged. "I didn't feel comfortable drinking alcohol with Ed so near. I need to stay on my toes. And you only had two, so I know you were pretty much of the same mind." She kissed his cheek lightly in thanks as she took the offered bottle from his hand.
"He ain't always gonna be a threat," he mumbled lowly, and she could hear the promise in his voice. "I ain't gonna let him near y'."
"I know." She set the bottle down on her side of the bed next to the vase, reaching for her bag. "I'm going to go change for bed. Why don't you call Merle and check in with him? It'd be a good idea to let him know we arrived safely, don't you think?"
Daryl nodded, pulling his hand away from his mouth where he'd been mutilating his thumb. "Yeah, ok."
The second the bathroom door closed behind her, he flopped face first onto the bed and groaned, the sound muffled by the duvet. He was so in over his head. Beer bottle still clasped in his hand, he reached over to retrieve his cell phone from the drawer of the nightstand.
Merle answered on the third ring. "Y' tell yer girl yet?" he asked by way of greeting.
Daryl rolled his eyes and slumped back against the pillow. Merle must've been sitting on his phone just waiting for Daryl to call. "Hey, brother, how y' been? Any new orders come in this afternoon?" he deadpanned.
"Goddamnit, Darylena, just answer th' fuckin' question! I been sittin' here with th' boys takin' bets you'd pussy out. So far, th' odds are in m' favor."
Daryl almost lied out of spite. Betting on him, indeed. "Seriously? You're bettin' against your own brother?"
"'Course not! I was bettin' for y'. So make me five hundred dollars richer an' tell me y' told yer girl 'bout all that loveeee y' got in that bleedin' heart o' yours," Merle teased.
He was tempted to hang up, keeping his new relationship status a secret until they got home Sunday afternoon. But he knew how much it meant to his brother before he'd even mentioned a bet. Merle wanted him to be happy, wanted Carol to be happy, too. "I told her."
Daryl heard his brother try to cover the phone, shushing his rambunctious friends so he could hear the details. "And?! What'd she say?"
He knew it must be killing Merle to have to exert some patience. He didn't keep him waiting long. "She … um … she loves me, too," he admitted sheepishly, ducking his head even though his brother couldn't see him, or the blush coloring his cheeks.
Daryl had to pull the phone away from his ear as Merle let out a whoop. "Hot damn! I toldja she loved y' back. Maybe next time y' won't doubt ol' Merle." He could hear the door of the office close behind Merle and the absence of other voices before the elder Dixon spoke again. "What about that fucker thinks he owns her? He causin' problems?"
He sighed and took a long drink of his beer. "He talked t' her while I was helpin' Rick an' Shane out with th' meat we was barbequin', but she wasn't alone. Some o' th' women were over there with her."
"Don't y' let her outta yer sight, brother … 'specially now that y'all are together."
"I ain't," Daryl promised, a cold chill raising gooseflesh along his arms at the thought of Ed getting her off alone. "Rick an' Shane are keepin' an eye on Ed."
"'Bout time they earned their salaries," Merle snorted. "But I don't care who they are, lil' brother. I don't trust 'em not t' fuck this up somehow. Y' want me t' come down there? Work's slow this weekend, an' –"
Daryl chewed that over for a minute. "I dunno, Merle. Y' really don't have th' money t' splurge for a fancy weekend up here. An' y' know Carol would feel guilty if she thought y' came all this way out here just t' help keep an eye on her."
"What about you?"
He sighed, gnawing at the inside of his lip in indecision. "I'd feel better if y' was close."
Merle chuckled. "Well, thanks t' y', I got an extra five hundred dollars jus' burnin' a hole in m' pocket. I'll head that way first thing in th' mornin'."
"A'right. An', Merle … thanks."
"Somebody's gotta watch yer back. Now go hit that fine piece o' ass, brother," Merle chortled. "Need some pointers while y' got me on th' phone?"
"Shut th' fuck up!" Daryl huffed out a frustrated breath and hit the end call button just as Carol came out of the bathroom. He set the empty bottle on the nightstand as her lips curled into a mischievous smile.
"And how is your dear brother getting along without us?" she asked, turning the lamp off on her night table and crawling onto the bed to stretch out at his side.
Daryl snorted. "Fucker's havin' a grand ol' time with his friends, bettin' I'd chicken out an' not tell y' how I feel."
Carol trailed her fingers languorously down his arm, smiling as his breath hitched. "Did he win?"
"Yeah. He watched me kiss y' this mornin' an' had inside information. His boys ain't had a chance." He kept his eye on her as she scooted closer, her hand settling in the center of his chest. "He's … uh … comin' up here tomorrow."
A frown left a small crease between her perfectly sculpted brows. "He shouldn't have to. This is all my fault. If I had never gone out with Ed –"
"Stahp! If you'd never gone out with Ed, we'd still be lovin' each other from a distance."
Carol's lips pulled into a moue of petulance as she thought it over. She didn't want to be indebted to that bastard for any reason, but Daryl had a point. "Well, at least one good thing came from it."
Daryl forgot about the threat of Ed Peletier as Carol's delicate fingers traced little nonsensical patterns over his chest. Her touch burned in the most delightful way through the fabric of his tank top, and he wanted to rip the offending garment off himself to give her better access to his heated flesh. It surprised him how willing he was to show her his scarred body, the thought making him freeze up with anxiety. Would she see him as weak, less than a man for not fighting harder against his abusive father?
"Daryl … relax, love. Don't you know I'd never do anything to make you uncomfortable?" she asked, her fingers moving to the scruff on his chin, turning his face to meet her gaze. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
"I know … I … I do want to, but –"
"Is this about your scars?" she asked, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
His eyes narrowed. "How d'you know about –"
She smiled gently, her fingers creeping up to toy with the hair over his ear. "Merle showed me his, and I only assumed, from what you shared about your childhood, that you had them too. Did you think they would matter to me, Daryl? Or that I would judge you?"
"No … maybe … I don't know. I jus' … I ain't never showed nobody, Carol. Not even m' brother."
Her features gentled even more as she held his gaze. "If it's too difficult, you don't have to show me either."
Daryl chewed his lip as he stared at her, searching her face for what he didn't even know. She had already seen the scars on his chest, the long silver line which stretched from collarbone to the center of his breastbone, the cigarette burns near his hip, and the pale track on his left side where he'd been poorly stitched. She hadn't judged him, more intent on touching him the night before than anything else. Would he be just as comfortable with her touching the deeper scars on his back?
There was plenty of moonlight streaming in through the open french doors. "Can we turn off th' light?"
Carol nodded slowly, amazed by his courage to let her see something which had been nothing but a source of fear and pain for years. She reached over him, turning the lamp off, and reveling in the feel of his arms as they banded around her waist. He placed a lingering kiss to the hollow of her throat before setting her back enough to lift the shirt over his head. He let it drop over the side of the bed and studied her for a long moment before rolling over onto his stomach.
The muscles in his back and shoulders were fraught with tension, and she had to bite back a curse for his long-dead father. The demon tattoos – his inner demons etched to life in artist's ink – cast shadows across his pale skin, alabaster in the moonlight, but it was the silver tracery of scars which constricted her throat and demanded her attention. "May I touch you?"
His forearms had disappeared beneath the pillow his cheek rested upon, but the way his biceps rippled and tensed, she could tell his hands had balled into fists. A barely perceptible nod was all the permission he could give, she knew, the struggle clear in the tight lines of his body and the iron set of his jaw. He was afraid, yet for her he would risk it, making her love him all the more.
Carol set her hands upon him, near his shoulders, dragging them down in one smooth motion, slowly, tenderly, her touch meant to soothe. He was as still as a statue, and she wondered how long he would hold his breath, still anticipating the pain. She moved back to his shoulders, taking a moment to knead his locked muscles. He groaned, and she smiled slightly, knowing the difference between a moan of pleasure and a groan of pain. She traveled more slowly this time on her downward trek, paying homage to each knob of his spine, and she felt his breath release. Her thumbs pressed deeply into his lower back, kneading with a skill she hadn't known she possessed, rewarded with a low whimper and a smile to the corner of his lips.
But she wasn't done. He was still much too tense to truly enjoy her ministrations. He was waiting, always waiting for her ridicule or rejection or both. Muscles rippled, and tension dominated as her fingers ghosted over the long thick welt near the waistband of his trunks.
Daryl broke out into a sweat the moment his exposed back met the cool air of their room, chilling him and making him shiver. Touch was pain, touch was ridicule, touch was humiliation. It was a mantra in his head he couldn't banish. He could neither focus nor breathe as he lay there, waiting for the first blow. A blow which never came. The trust he felt towards her battled against his demons, a constant war of emotion. It was only a mere second from her innocent query to the first touch of her delicate hands, the breath catching in his throat as she made a long gentle swipe from shoulder to hip. And just as quickly, her warm palms returned to settle again on his shoulders, her fingers tenderly kneading his flesh, pressing deeply into the muscle beneath. With each new touch, he felt some of the tension easing away, the fear he felt giving way to a pleasure he hadn't thought possible.
He couldn't hold back the moan which rushed past his lips as her fingers ghosted over the ugliest scar, the deep wide lash mark his father had carved into him. It had been the most painful, the longest to heal. If he lost himself in his mind, he could still smell the blood, the leather, the pungent fumes of whiskey. He shuddered, the memory dying a quick death as Carol pressed her lips to it, her tongue darting out to trace its length. His hips bucked, his cock hardening, pressing into the mattress beneath him. How could she stand it? To touch something so ugly with her sweet little tongue. It burned him in a whole new way, bringing pleasure from a past of haunting pain.
His breathing became erratic as he writhed beneath her, each pass of her tongue bringing a new wave of pleasure, each touch, every caress the beginnings of bliss. Daryl's hands fisted in the duvet, his back bowing, hips grinding into the mattress, seeking relief, yet desperate to remain in control. He'd never been touched like this, and it overwhelmed him to the point he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The sound escaping amidst his panting breaths had Carol removing her hands from him, which really made him want to cry.
"Why … why'd y' stop?"
Her fingers carded through his hair, gentle, soothing, the scratch of her nails drawing forth a rumbling purr from deep within his chest. "I wanted to make sure you were ok," she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him. She ran her hand over his back once more, tapping his hip, encouraging him to roll over. Carol simply smiled as he gathered her close to his chest and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Daryl shivered as his cock pressed against her hip, painfully hard. "Need t' tell y' somethin'," he groaned, unable to meet her gaze. He caught her wandering hand as it mapped the contours of his chest with heated strokes. It was more than a little distracting. "I ain't … I ain't never …"
"You've never had sex before?" she asked gently. She could feel the heat rising from his skin as his face burned with a blush. "No, I don't suppose you have, not with your aversion to touch. That's nothing to be ashamed of, love."
"Carol, I'm twenty-three years old, male and a Dixon, for fuck's sake!" he spat bitterly. "Surprised Merle ain't disowned me." He leaned away to gauge her reaction to find her smiling slightly. "That shit don't bother y'?"
"Why should it?" she asked in all seriousness, freeing her hand from his grasp to trail it over the taut plane of his belly and lower until she was cupping her hand over the sizable bulge in his trunks. "I think it's rather sweet that I'll be your first."
"My only," he growled, his hips bucking against her hand. He averted his gaze, his fears causing his breath to hitch. "I don't wanna disappoint y'. I … I mean, I know stuff. Gawd knows I've had to listen t' Merle's filthy mouth almost every day o' my life. I jus' don't think I'll last, an' I want it t' be good for y', too."
Carol squeezed the rigid length of him and trailed her lips over his jaw. "It doesn't matter how old you are or how much experience you have, Daryl. Does this feel right to you, being here with me, letting me touch you like this?"
He nodded fervently, having lost the ability to speak as her hand sneaked beneath his waistband, her fingers wrapping around his cock with the perfect amount of pressure.
"That's all that matters. I've wanted to touch you for so long, to feel you beneath my hand, my lips," she purred seductively against the whorls of his ear. She left his embrace, kneeling beside him, her fingers tucking into the elastic at his waist, her eyes seeking his. "May I?"
In answer, he lifted his hips from the mattress to help her, swallowing nervously as she pulled the trunks down his long legs. He blushed again as her heated gaze settled on his groin, her eyes widening as she took him in. His cock was long and thick, standing proudly as it curled up towards his belly. His heart rate ramped up another ten beats as she pushed his legs apart, making room for herself between them, and settled her hands atop his thighs. This time when he tensed, it was with anticipation rather than fear.
"Carol …" he moaned, watching her tongue dart out to wet her lips. "Y' ain't gotta –"
She leaned forward and ran the flat of her tongue over his turgid length from root to tip, leaving a tender kiss atop the head. "Just relax and let me make you feel good."
Before he could warn her not to do it again, her parted lips descended, engulfing his cock in the blazing heat of her mouth. The sharp intake of his breath nearly choked him as his lower body arched upward, instinctively searching out more. He would certainly embarrass himself, never having felt anything like it in his life, but his brain was losing the argument with his body, begging him to do as she'd said and simply feel.
She took him in, her tongue busy as it caressed him almost feverishly, and he could feel his body balanced just there on the edge, waiting to topple over. Fire crackled along his spine with each pull of her sweet honeyed mouth and the muscles in his stomach tightened painfully, the breath stuttering in his chest as she brought him deeper still. He lost all sense of reason as his release crept closer, maintaining just enough control to warn her.
His fingers delved into her hair, tugging gently, but her nails dug sharply into the sensitive flesh of his thighs, choosing to remain exactly where she was. "Carol –" She took all of him, opening her throat and swallowing reflexively around him. "Fuckkkk!'
His body trembled, never having come so hard before. He hadn't believed it possible. Her eyes met his as she wiped the corner of her mouth and crawled over him, finally settling with her arms folded over his chest and her chin resting on them. His breathing was so labored, he didn't know how he didn't unseat her. And then she giggled, reaching out to trail her fingers along the side of his face.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly.
"Jesus, woman!" he stuttered out in a huff as his heart stopped trying to beat out of his chest.
Carol giggled again. "Well, you were kind of worked up and afraid you'd fire off too soon. This way your finger's off the trigger and the ammo is in lockup. Now you can relax and enjoy yourself."
"Th' fuck y' learn t' do that?"
Carol shrugged a brow as she got up and retrieved a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, taking a long drink before offering it to him. "I had a very selfish boyfriend in my senior year. I was young and stupid. My parents had hoped we'd marry after college, but that was just not happening."
Daryl drained the bottle and set it on the night table, trying not to let the little green monster in his chest rear its ugly head. It was before he'd even known her. He waited until she'd crawled back onto the bed and settled again at his side before asking, "Is that one o' th' reasons y' wanted t' move halfway across th' country t' go t' college?"
Carol nodded, burrowing into his side, her hand resting on his chest, the steady beat warm and reassuring. "I wanted my own life. I was tired of being controlled." She raked her teeth over her lower lip in a slow drag. "It's been difficult, but it was the best decision I've ever made. It led me to you."
Daryl turned on his side to face her. The warm breeze drifting through the open balcony doors cooled the fine sheen of sweat on his skin, making him shiver, but it was nothing compared to the gentle play of his girl's fingers through the light dusting of hair beneath his navel. His heavy-lidded gaze did nothing to hide his overly large pupils, his body once more responding to her touch. "I never really believed in fate before. That was always Merle's thing. Guess it's not all superstitious bullshit after all."
A/n: Yeahhh, I know y'all are disappointed I had to split the chapter, but I promise I'll have the next part posted ASAP. I really hope y'all enjoyed it. Thanks to all of you who have read and left me such fabulotastic reviews! It's such a pleasure writing for y'all. Huge buckets of love to my betas BettyBubble and Geektaire!