Chapter Eight: Worth Waiting For

She sighed as he leaned in to kiss her softly, almost hesitantly. He was still nervous, she knew, could feel it in his hand as it trailed lightly over her collarbone before venturing down her side to settle on her hip. He licked the sweet spot beneath her ear, and it was her turn to gasp as heat shot through her veins. "What d'you like, Carol Ann," he fairly purred, his hand sliding lower, behind her, cupping one smooth swell of her heart-shaped ass.

Her nails dug into his shoulder before moving up to wrap her hand around his nape, holding her to him. "You. Just touch me, love. I've waited so long to be with you like this," she breathed.

He frowned, her words no help at all. Now that he was free to touch her, it was all he could think about. All he'd been able to think about for days, really. But what if he did something she didn't like? His head was filled with advice he'd received over the years from his loud-mouthed brother, but somehow, he didn't think it would be useful for his girl. He wasn't saying Merle didn't know what he was doing. On the contrary, he'd had a front row seat to the erotic symphony of moans, curses and outright shrieks coming from his brother's room on occasion. The walls of their apartment were extremely thin. Carol wasn't like the girls Merle brought home, and he certainly wasn't out for gratification alone. Daryl was determined to show her just how much he loved her.

"What if I fuck this up?" he asked, his lips capturing the lobe of her ear between his lips.

Carol hiked her leg up, draping it over his hip, a moan drifting past her parted lips. She pressed her core to his thigh wedged between her own, still aroused from earlier when she'd lived out one of her own fantasies, his flesh so hot beneath her wandering hands. "You won't," she insisted, tipping his chin up to meet her gaze. "I'm yours, Daryl. Just do what feels right."

Daryl nodded jerkily, his fingers tracing the lace edge of her camisole, wondering if it was new or if she'd been hiding this beneath the bulky terry cloth robe she wore around the apartment. He felt ridiculous lying there bare beside her without having attempted to rid her of her nightclothes. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. She had seemed to like his kisses, and he didn't think he could screw that up too badly. He could spend days just kissing her and never grow tired, he thought as his tongue glided over her lush lower lip, the soft pink flesh she abused so often when she was nervous or scared. How often had he dreamed of using his own teeth, to bite and lave and soothe?

His tongue slipped in to duel with hers, and he reveled in her sweetness, growing bolder with her response as she tugged on his hair, her hips bucking against his thigh as she sought friction for the ache building within her. His finger dipped beneath the hem of her camisole, the rough pads searching out her softness, ghosting along her ribs until his thumb brushed the sensitive undersides of her breasts. She mewled softly into his mouth, the sound sending a surge of white-hot lust straight to his groin. Yet it wasn't painful as it had been before. His earlier release had sated his body enough to afford him the measure of control he needed to please her.

The smooth slide of silk over the back of his hand was a distraction, in no way comparable to the soft satiny texture of her skin, and with a sweeping motion, he rid her of the covering, whipping it over her head and tossing it behind him. The brief loss of contact was nearly a physical pain, unable to bear any distance between them. Her body, ethereal in the moonlight, perfect, his goddess, and he buried his face between her breasts feeling his very soul reach out to hers as his arms held her close. How long – so much time wasted – had he wanted her like this, and not just wisps of desire in his dreams? He wouldn't be selfish, taking without thought to her own needs. He wouldn't even know how, not when she was the center of his world.

His name – so filled with reverence – fell from her lips in a breathy cry as he breathed in the warm scent of her skin, and a shuddering breath filled his lungs. Hot open-mouthed kisses languidly peppered her skin as he sought to worship every inch of her alabaster skin. His tongue circled one taut peak, toying with her as her back arched and her fingers tightened in his hair until he gave in to her silent demands and took the little bud fully into his mouth, sucking with a pressure which caused her to tremble and writhe beneath him. He brushed his thumb over its twin, reading her body, listening to the sounds of pleasure low in her throat, his confidence growing.

Daryl didn't want to miss an inch of her, his mouth venturing lower, playing over the soft skin of her belly as his fingers hooked into the waistband of her sleep shorts, his eyes drifting up to meet hers, a silent request for permission before he pulled them down and off of her long slender legs. The sight of her, completely bare, flushed and more beautiful than he'd ever thought possible, stole his breath. "Carol …"

Carol met his gaze as it returned to her, the sweeping motion of his eyes over her curves almost a physical caress, and she was happy the sight of her body brought him such pleasure. She didn't want to wait any longer. She'd endured three years of wanting, waiting, hoping, praying the day would come when she would finally be with him. Her grasping hands reached for him, pulling him over her, his warm weight settling between her thighs, his tumescent cock pressed tightly against her core. "I need you," she gasped, feeling the slide of his heat through her folds, the sharp intake of breath as his chest pressed into her own, and the sight of his eyes blown wide with desire. It was too much, yet not enough. She wanted him inside her, filling her, touching parts of her no man ever would again.

Daryl's hands fisted in the duvet beneath them, his jaw clenching tightly, fighting to maintain his flagging control as her hand wrapped around him, slowly guiding him to her entrance. She was so wet, the physical evidence of her need for him, the heat emanating from her drenched folds, the wanton purr ghosting over his ear … too much for him. He'd never last and the disappointment nearly crushed him. He could feel the fire crackling along his spine in electric bursts, his stomach clenching as he fought against the raw sensations as he eased himself forward.

He whimpered when he was finally seated within her, his fist pounding once, twice, against the mattress as her walls gripped him tightly, fluttering erotically around his cock. Her cool hand on his chin, her fingers splaying along his cheek had his eyes snapping open, black dots playing along the edges of his vision, and it was a struggle to focus on her, his head swimming with a heady mix of desire and lust.

"Breathe, love," she whispered, her eyes wide and worried. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath. "You feel so good, Daryl. It doesn't have to be perfect, I just need this … I need you."

He shunted his hips forward, the urge to thrust overwhelming, groaning in agonized pleasure. She was giving so much of herself to him, and he couldn't bear not to give in return. It was a struggle, but he focused on her as he set a slow rhythm, giving her time to adjust, time for her to climb her peak before pushing her over the edge. He would not fail her! But he hadn't taken into account how much she wanted him, how close she'd been before he'd ever entered her. The constant longing, yearning ache she'd carried with her for years made it inevitable.

Carol raised her hips, meeting his every thrust, the angle just right to have his pubic bone brush her little bundle of nerves with every snap of his hips. She didn't even try to hold back the keening wail which tumbled from her throat, a testament to the bliss which overtook her senses. Her nails marked him, but those little crescents he'd wear proudly. Her teeth tugged at his lower lip as she brought his head down for a rough kiss, and he could swear he tasted blood. The minor pain only increased the ferocity of his thrusts, the fluttering of her inner walls telling him it wouldn't be much longer.

She came with a cry, his name on her lips, her thighs trembling around his waist where they were locked, her fingers knotted in his hair as she gave in, tumbling, falling, plummeting into her pleasure. And he helplessly followed, unable to hold on any longer, unable to resist the feel of her coming around him, the warm rush of heat leaving him breathless.

Daryl buried his face against the crook of her neck, his teeth sinking into her shoulder to stifle his own cry of completion, his arms vise-like as he gathered her closer. He was a boneless mess and he couldn't be happier.

A low rumbling growl echoed in his chest as her fingers carded through the damp hair at his temples, her lips pressing against his brow. He tried to roll to his side, but she clung to him. "Stay … stay," she whispered breathily.

""M too heavy."

"No … you're perfect."

*.*.*

Dark malevolent eyes narrowed as Carol's sweet voice carried on the breeze, drifting through the open balcony doors to the man below. Where he stood, anyone who happened by would never take notice, his hulking figure concealed amongst decorative trees, blending into the inky darkness. The light at the end of his cigarette briefly illuminated his round face, shadows of madness lingering in his gaze, a twisted snarl of hatred upon his features.

She belonged to him! That filthy redneck bastard had brainwashed her, convinced her it was him she needed. It was an act! It had to be. She was simply trying to make him jealous. He had to get her away from Dixon, had to break the spell she was under so she'd realize who she truly belonged to. It wasn't her fault, no, not at all.

A feral smile broke out over his wide mouth, his teeth a dull glow in the moonlight. Soon … soon she would be with him, everything in place now to prove his love for her. It wouldn't be like last time. He'd take care of her, show her how a real man should treat his woman. And she'd forget Daryl Dixon had ever existed.

A/n: Short chapter, I know. Sorry! Hope y'all enjoyed it anyway. I wanted to give a little glimpse into the inner workings of Ed's mind. There's been lots of focus on Caryl, and I don't want anyone to think Ed's just pissing in the wind, or that I'm not going to take him seriously. Ed is a very real threat to our little lovebirds. Thanks to all who have read *buckets of love* and please review! And once again, my genuine heartfelt thanks to my lovely betas, BettyBubble and Geektaire! Mwah!