~Joyous~

Rick tugged on the sheet in search of an opening. The fit of his hand against Michonne's firm, perfect bottom told him things. She wore very little if anything at all and he aimed to touch her. He needed to know if she was as warm and smooth as he imagined. His skin to hers had been a fantasy held at bay for far too long.

More shifting brought her closer. The hard tips of her breasts grazed his chest through the barriers of their shirts. His tongue dove into the hollow of her collarbone as she slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her fingers glided against his scalp, rubbing him and pulling him to her. All the while, he fought with the sheet. His frustration grew as the linen tangled instead of offering a reprieve.

"Fuck!" he muttered. He gripped the sheet and her hand closed over his.

"Wait."

He stared at her in wonder. Everything in him screamed otherwise. They had already waited too long. The scent of her arousal told him she wanted this as much as he did. What the hell was she thinking?

"Michonne?" he all but growled.

In response, she cupped his face and gave him one of her beautiful smiles. Then, she frowned. "Not down here. Not like this."

"Where?"

Her frown deepened. "I don't know… Upstairs, they'll hear."

"Are you a squealer?" He trailed kisses along her jaw. His left hand found a gap in the sheet. The first touch of his fingers along her inner thigh was akin to heaven. He felt numerous sensations at once. Her flesh was smooth, supple, yet firm, and soft.

"No—"

Her gasp interrupted her denial. His hand had found the center between her thighs. The tiny scrap of underwear did little to buffer the wetness that coated his palm. He took care with his massage, enjoying the way she arched against his hand. Her moans answered his question. Michonne was a moaner.

"Here then," he said, watching her.

Moonlight filtered in through the slats of the shutters. The light highlighted her beauty. The raw passion in her eyes was unguarded and striking. He couldn't believe that they had waited this long.

She closed her hand around his wrist to slow him. "Not on the couch."

"Say please." He kissed her. Once. Twice. More times than he could count until they were both breathless and he knew her taste better than he knew his own. "On the floor?"

"Yeah," she panted.

Like unschooled teenagers, they undressed in hurried movements and landed on the floor on top of the sheet. Her attempts to push him onto his back were outmaneuvered and he had her flat with her thighs spread just the way he wanted them.

She wasn't completely bare, but the curls that covered her womanhood were minimal. Her center glistened with want for him and that spot had his full attention. Another time, he would take care to explore toes, legs, and thighs. But tonight, he had a taste for something else.

Light kisses would have prepared her better, but from her squirming and moans, he knew she was plenty ready. He dove in with deep kisses, his tongue penetrating and his fingers petting her clit. Michonne's grip on his hair hurt, but the pain was pleasurable, joyous even. She was on the brink and it was because of him.

One finger, then two found the bundle of nerves deep inside her. "You're so wet," he murmured before he suckled her clit.

Within seconds, her moans transformed to series of gasps until she managed to get his name out.

"Rick!"

He hesitated a moment to enjoy the sight of her, but only a moment was all his cock would allow. He pressed the tip against her slick opening. In the back of his mind, he was aware that although his fingers fit, she was tight. Sweat moistened his back. His heart pounded his chest. He never knew that he had the ability for this level of restraint, but he didn't want to hurt her. Again, he caressed the head against her, sliding it along the folds and in between and then just inside.

She gripped his shoulders and he moved to pull out.

"No," Michonne said. "More. More, Rick."

Like he had so many times before, Rick obeyed Michonne's command.

To be continued…