I want to thank everyone for their continued support for this story. I know it's a really different dynamic, one that takes some getting used to, and you have all been fabulous in giving this a chance. I had a couple of you ask if we'd ever get to see Daryl's point of view. In all honesty, I really hadn't planned on it, but once you'd mentioned it, it really made sense to do this chapter following Daryl instead of Beth, so thank you.

She was tight. Shit, she was tight. Tighter than Daryl thought humanly possible. He positioned her legs around his waist so he could angle himself into her better, and focused on not hammering away at her, even though God that's all he wanted to do. A pussy like that...a man could get lost in.

She didn't say much, which, in hindsight, should have stuck out to him as strange. The girl talked his ear off most of the time, but now she got quiet. He figured she just didn't want anyone to hear her. The most she said was, "Daryl...please..." which only served to stoke his ego. Girl was begging for more...just might have to oblige.

He had planned to pull out, cum all over her belly and those perky little tits. Just the thought of covering her like that made him nearly lose control. But fuck she was wrapped around his dick like a goddamn glove, hugging every inch of him, he just couldn't help himself. Most girls like her were on the pill or something anyway, right?

It didn't last long. Not that it was embarrassingly short or anything, but it wasn't like he was really trying for anything more than getting his rocks off. Sure, he could have let her just use her hand again – girl did a good enough job at that – but he was particularly horny that night and decided it was as good a night as any to see just how far she'd let him go.

He grabbed a rag to wipe himself off and was about to hand it to her so she could do the same when he noticed the fabric was dark. Not just from being wet. Dark. Dark like...blood. There wasn't much, but it was definitely there.

Shit.

"You're a virgin?" he asked softly. Beth's answer was to curl on her side and tuck her knees up to her chest into the fetal position. Oh, shit. "Why the hell didn't you say somethin'?"

"Would it have mattered?" she mumbled.

Well didn't he just feel like a Grade A Jackass? He knew this girl was scared to death, didn't have a mean bone in her body, and now he'd gone and done this to her. Didn't even make sure it was good for her. Dammit.

He lay down behind her, letting his arm drape around her while supporting himself up on his elbow, deciding to ignore the way she curled into a tighter little ball. "Beth," he breathed, resting his hand on her hip and stroking the soft skin there. "Shit, girl, I'm...I didn't...you coulda..."

"Just leave me alone, Daryl," she whispered. Daryl was pretty sure her voice would have been shaking if there had been any volume to it. He watched as her shoulder began to shake.

God, he felt like an ass. He made the poor girl cry. He didn't force her or anything. He left it up to her. He might have tipped the scales in his favor a little, but she made the choice. He'd never taken a woman against her will before and, technically, he still hadn't. At least that's what he was going to convince himself. Besides, he was going to be gone the next couple days, so hopefully she wouldn't be so upset with him anymore once he got back. Daryl looked down at Beth and made up his mind to show her just how sorry he was. He pulled on her hip again until she turned to lie on her back. She was making a point not to look at him, which would have been a good thing. Hell, he didn't want to see the poor thing crying, but he needed her to know...

He sighed heavily, "Look, I know I don't deserve it, but..."

"But what?" she snapped, though her voice never rose above a sharp whisper; her eyes flashed in anger. "Trust you?" She rolled back onto her side and curled herself into that little ball again.

Well, he certainly deserved that.

All Daryl wanted was for her to just listen to him, hear him out, let him explain. If he'd have known, if she'd have said something...he would have at least gone easier on her. He wasn't about to tell himself it wouldn't have happened, but it would have happened differently.

He reached over and cupped her cheek in his hand to gently guide her to turn her head toward him, fighting her meager resistance. In the twilight that surrounded them, aided only by the dying fire near their tent, he could see her eyes, wide with fear, and he stopped short, breath caught in his chest. He'd seen that look before, when his old man had been out on a bender and he'd come home with an awful look in his eye and his mama knew what was coming...though just because she knew it was coming didn't mean she wanted it. She'd look at his dad like a deer caught in the headlights, and even as a little boy he could recognize the pleading look in her eyes as his old man went to her and dragged her, already crying, into their bedroom.

He hated that look.

And now that same look was staring right back up at him. He thought about just letting her go – it was what she wanted, after all – but something deep down inside him wanted him to make this right for her...as right as he could, anyway.

It dawned on him as he looked down at her, away from that look, that the poor girl hadn't even gotten dressed. Must've been too upset to care. Way to go, asshole.

Figuring it would be best to just obey her wish and leave her alone, he pulled his boxers and jeans up, buttoning and zipping the fly. "Here," he murmured, handing over her shirt from where it had landed on the tent floor, "let's at least get you dressed." While she put her top back on, he crawled over to where he had flung her shorts and offered them back to her. She snatched them out of his hand after pulling her hair out of the neckline of her blouse. Once she was clothed once more, she resumed her place curled up and facing the tent wall, arms crossing her chest.

Daryl lay down next to her, facing her back, studying the lines of her slender body. Damn, she was tiny. He was learning quickly that looks could most definitely be deceiving. She might look like a little slip of a thing, but this girl was strong, stronger than she probably even knew. And she was good. And kind. And giving.

Not to mention beautiful.

Daryl shook his head before any more of that Hallmark shit clouded his thoughts. He was suddenly bound and determined to show her he wasn't a complete asshole...but how to do that without forcing her? He tried once more putting his hand on her upper arm. When she but didn't shrug him off right away, he took it as a good sign. Well, a sign. "Beth," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, girl. I prob'ly shoulda known. I shouldn't-a... I'm sorry." He didn't think he'd ever apologized so much at one time in his entire life, especially not to one person, but it was important to him that she believe him.

He'd wonder why some other time.

He couldn't blame her for still giving him the cold shoulder. He figured she had every right to be pissed at him. If she were any other girl, he'd cut his losses and move on, but he was just as trapped in their agreement as she was. He couldn't just kick her to the curb – this girl was depending on him, and he'd be damned before he ever went back on his word.

Daryl decided to keep ignoring the fact that despite knowing he didn't deserve her, he didn't want her to leave. He'd figured out ways to keep her safe, whether he was with her or not. Now he just needed to find a way to make her stay – not because she had to, but maybe even because she wanted to.

Where the hell was all that coming from?

"Here," he stretched his other arm so it rested just above her head on their shared pillow, nudging along the crown of her head with his forearm until she huffed and lifted her head, allowing him to slide his arm under her neck. Daryl let his other arm rest along his side, figuring she didn't necessarily want him touching her any more than he already was. After a time, his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep; a tiny part of him wondered who fell asleep first.

When Daryl woke, it was as if everything around him was colored in shades of gray; he figured it was at least an hour or so before sunrise. Somehow, over the course of the night, Beth had turned over and was now curled into him, her head on his shoulder and her arm resting on his chest. Normally in such a situation, he'd get the hell out of there, not caring if he woke the woman in the process or not. Something stopped him this time. A large part of it was remembering how shitty he'd been to her last night...hell, for the past week, but there was something deep in his chest that prevented him from pulling away.

She looked so peaceful laying there next to him, eyelashes brushing against her cheeks, her breath warming his skin through his shirt. A lock of hair had fallen over her face, which he gently tucked behind her ear. Careful though he may have been, the tiny motion was enough to cause her to stir. He all but held his breath, hating that he woke her so early, but when her eyes opened and, after a few blinks, focused on his face, he was overwhelmed with a flood of emotions – the currently ever-present guilt, regret for having woken her, happiness when she didn't back away when she realized where she was, an increasing amount of protectiveness, and a rush of lust at the sight and feel of her. Even though his heart and mind felt terrible about the night before, his dick hadn't forgotten how amazing it felt being inside her.

Their eyes locked on each other for a brief moment before he blurted out in a rough whisper, "God, you're beautiful." And she was. She really was. He'd been with some hags in his day, screwed a couple chicks who looked good under the bar lights but looked like completely different people in the light of the next morning. Not this girl, though – not even with red-rimmed eyes, which he guessed could have been from crying last night. He felt another pang in his chest at the realization.

God, he felt like such a piece of shit. He just had to make it up to her.

Unable to hold back anymore, Daryl bent his head to drop a soft kiss on her pouty pink lips. His heart jumped when she didn't pull back right away. Maybe she was still too asleep to think clearly. Maybe she'd forgiven him in her sleep.

Maybe she wanted him to kiss her.

Regardless of the reason, he'd take whatever he could get. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek and deepened the kiss, but pulled back before he let himself get carried away, looked back down at her. "I'm sorry, Beth," he murmured. "Last night was...I shouldn't've pushed you like I did. I didn't...hurt you, did I?"

"Yeah, it hurt, but I'm pretty sure it would've no matter...," she trailed off, her voice still froggy with sleep but still soft and sweet like it always was. He heard her unspoken words – "no matter who it had been since it was my first time." Her gentleness cut through him. Christ, was she letting him off the hook for hurting her?

No. Even if she had forgiven him, he had promised himself he would make it good for her somehow. He owed her that at least.

She went to sit up, wincing as she moved, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. She looked back at him and he tilted his head, silently telling her to lay back down next to him. Once she was settled, yet obviously still wary of him, he asked, "Still sore?"

She nodded, her eyes downcast. He grimaced at that. Each little reminder of what an ass he'd been stabbed through him. He was convinced the only way for him to feel better, and for her to hopefully still trust him, was to do this for her. Now how the hell was he supposed to convince her to let him touch her again?

"Beth, I..." he stammered, his nerve giving out when those blue eyes of hers – so sad and yet still so bright – met his. "I know you prob'ly hate me right now, but I do wanna make it up to you. At least let you get yours since I got mine." He hoped to hell she knew what he meant. He was really trying to avoid going into a detailed explanation, hoping he could just show her.

She never really answered except to stay where she was, lying next to him with her head still resting on his bicep. Maybe she thought this was him calling in her end of their agreement. He needed her to know this one was completely off the books. "If...if you don't wanna, we don't hafta. I just thought...maybe..." How the hell was he supposed to ask her?

He sighed and whispered, "Please, girl. Let me take care of you this time."

He had never begged before in his life. Somehow, with this girl, it wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be.

Beth looked up at him, her eyes searching his. When she still hadn't moved, he ventured to bring his hand up to cover the side of her neck, his forefinger and thumb cradling her jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips before letting his forehead rest against hers. Slowly, very slowly, so as not to frighten her and to give her plenty of time to stop him, his hand drifted down over her torso, not even stopping to play with her breasts, pausing at Beth's lower abdomen. He turned his hand and slid it to wrap around her side, up to her ribcage and down again, reveling in the dip of her tiny waist before reaching the flare of her hips again. He kissed her again, pulling away again so she had every chance to stop him as he turned his hand so his fingers were pointing to slide under her shorts and panties. The only change was her quickened breathing; he sought her eyes, thankful he didn't see that frightened look again. Nervous, he could handle, but not fear.

He didn't want her to be afraid of him, especially not when they were like this.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice rough with...something more than lust. It was like he was really starting to care for this girl.

When the hell did that happen?

She nodded, not making any move to get closer or to scoot away. All she did was take a deep breath and close her eyes.

Daryl smirked a little, knowing that even if she was so nervous she was practically shaking, he'd at least piqued her interest. Determined to make this as pleasurable as he could for her, he began teasing her lower lips, seeking any moisture that hid within. He kissed along her throat again, finding that sweet spot where her neck met her shoulder, where he'd been leaving his mark on her. Her sharp intake of breath when he grazed his teeth over her skin only encouraged him, as did the slight arch to her back when he began to apply suction, pulling her skin deeper into his mouth. Besides, he was about to be gone for at least a couple days – he wanted to make sure these lasted at least that long.

His finger dipped to just outside her entrance. He stopped when he felt her tense, waiting for her to calm down again before continuing. She released a shaky breath and relaxed little by little. When he felt it was safe, he picked up again, lightly stroking her, drawing out any wetness there and guiding it up to her clit, still hidden under its hood.

Not one to linger, he moved back down and slowly pushed his finger into her. God, she was still fucking tight, even just around his finger. He moved his hand back and forth, slowly, almost like he was still teasing her, but was actually trying to just ease her into it. When he felt her juices start to run down his hand, he added another finger, just as slowly as he'd done the first one, and curled them into her, seeking that spot only dumbasses claimed they couldn't find. She gasped, loudly, and he knew she was well on her way.

If Daryl were honest with himself, he'd admit he was well on his way, too. Her tiny little panting noises, the way her hips were starting to buck against his hand ever so slightly spurred him on. Truthfully, he was glad she was actually getting something out of it, rather than her just letting him do what he wanted because she was too afraid to say no.

He moved his finger from her entrance to her clit and back again, over and over, as he watched her face contort in pained pleasure. Her soft hand belied its nature when she grabbed his arm with an iron grip. Her eyes snapped open and she began sucking in a lungful of air and held it, trying her damnedest to stay quiet. Daryl fantasized about another time, another place, but only with this girl...somewhere he could lay her down and show her a thing or two.

Somewhere she could let that sweet voice out as she came as loud as she fucking wanted to.

The thought of her stretched out beneath him again was enough to get his hips moving without even realizing he was doing it. Before long, he was grinding his pelvis against her slender body, trying to relieve the pressure building in his dick. As much as he wanted to feel the tight warmth of her pussy again, he knew better than to even bring it up.

Once he got back from hunting, however...

Her fingers tightened their grip, nails digging into his skin, and he figured she was about to go over the edge. He pushed his two fingers into her again, letting his thumb play with her now swollen clit, determined to feel her come around his fingers. Her walls began to flutter, her breath stuttering. A glance down revealed that her nipples had grown so hard that they were about to poke right through her shirt. As much as he wanted to suck on each one of them, something told him to just stay the course, to not change any part of his technique at the moment, to make sure she finally found release.

When it happened, he was almost glad she hadn't reached orgasm when he fucked her the night before. A pussy that tight, squeezing like it was now on his fingers, might have snapped his dick right off.

She lay there next to him when it was over, panting and swallowing hard to try to catch her breath. When she still hadn't said anything, Daryl asked, "You okay?"

Beth nodded shyly. "I...I never...no one's ever..."

Daryl frowned at that. "Not even yourself?" She shook her head. "Why the hell not?" Beth just shrugged and looked down and off to the side, avoiding any eye contact with him. "Well, glad I could...help."

He carefully pulled his hand from her shorts, "Look, you stay here, I gotta go take a leak." He ducked under the tent flap and made a beeline for the woods. Once he was far enough away, he pulled his cock out of his jeans, not surprised that it was just as hard as it had been last night...and as the blonde beauty he'd been living with came apart literally in his hands moments ago. His fingers and palm were still wet with her slick, so he got right down to business to get himself off, calling to mind her soft panting noises, how she felt in his arms, how god damned beautiful she was. In no time at all he was spurting streams of spunk into a nearby bush. He leaned against a tree as he caught his breath and tucked himself back into his pants, taking care as he pulled the zipper closed. He let his head thump against the trunk of the tree as he lost himself in thought.

What the hell was this girl doing to him?

Within an hour of returning, he was giving Beth a list of warnings and instructions for what to do while he was gone. Merle would be leaving with the group later that day for Atlanta, but his brother had promised to keep an eye (and only an eye) on her before he left. Once both Dixons were gone from the camp, Shane and Andrea were the only two he thought would actually be able to take care of her if she needed anything.

After one last kiss in the privacy of their little tent, Daryl set off to find himself a deer.

For the first hour or so, he just walked, not even trying to track anything. He'd seen antler rubbings on random trees when he'd been out in the woods the week before, so he knew there were deer out there, that he wouldn't have to look real hard to find any tracks. He started getting picky with his shots, not feeling the need to bag every little squirrel he happened across, instead taking only those that looked well-fed.

As the trees around him grew closer and closer together, his hunting senses kicked into gear, his eyes and ears on high alert for anything that moved. Once in a while he saw one of those dead bastards walking around, but only one was close enough to actually give a fuck about. He started to wish for a deer stand, not just to hunt from, but to sleep in once night fell. He began to keep an eye out for trees he could climb easily, like Beth had done.

His mind raced back to the last twelve hours. He was sorry he'd hurt her, but not sorry about anything else. Truth be told, he was already thinking about the next time he'd get to feel her around him. That girl was addictive. Once she entered his thoughts, it was damn near impossible to get her out again. He began imagining all the different things he'd introduce to her, expand her little horizons.

A tiny part of his brain wondered what she was doing at the moment. Were Merle and Shane keeping their promises?

Maybe he'd better start focusing on finding a damn deer, head back to the camp early.

He found a deer trail, probably a day or two old, but it was something. He began tracking, still taking his time, sending a bolt through any squirrel or rabbit that looked like it would give a decent amount of meat. Hours passed before the deer trial crossed through a brook running through the forest. He had to temporarily detour to find a place he could cross without getting his feet wet. Normally he wouldn't have cared, but he'd rather not have to spend the next day and a half walking around with soaking socks.

The trail was becoming fresher – hell, he'd even found the place where the deer had slept the night before, but now the sun was starting to set, and he still needed to find a spot for himself to sleep out of the reach of any of those flesh-eating corpses.

He finally found the deer early the next morning. As he crouched down beneath a bush, lining up his shot – he wanted to hit that perfect spot in its neck that would drop the animal where it stood so he wouldn't have to go chasing after it – it seemed to look right at him with those big eyes, almost fearful.

Almost like Beth's had been last night.

He fought to concentrate, but images of her beneath him ran rampant in his mind. What he had done last night. What he'd like to do to her in the future.

He shook his head, determined to find his focus again, and realigned the shot. Daryl exhaled slowly as he gradually squeezed the trigger, releasing the bolt...

...and watched it sail just off course into the deer's side as it bolted from the small clearing.

Shit.

He took off, knowing there wasn't really any chance of him keeping up with his prey, but hauling ass as best he could after the long night of chasing sleep in the crook of a tree, half-exhausted and half-starving, entirely pissed at himself that he'd let his thoughts get the better of him and result in losing at least a couple days' worth of meat for the camp. At least the bolt had hit center mass – maybe he'd nicked a lung or something and the deer would actually start slowing down soon.

Eventually he had to stop running, the trail becoming too difficult to follow at that speed, not that he was moving all that fast to begin with. He figured he had two options – keep tracking this deer or give up and try to find another one. It took him the better part of a day to find this one, and even though he was prepared to be out in these woods for a couple days, he was tired and ready to call it.

He'd ignore the fact that his thoughts kept returning to Beth for the moment.

His mind made up, he set out to follow the deer, if anything, to get his bolt back. He grumbled when he realized the deer had set a course heading pretty far south, away from the camp, although maybe that would mean he'd find another one along the way. After the first mile or so, the deer had suddenly changed direction, taking a 90-degree turn back toward the camp, and Daryl began to dare to hope. The trees began to thin out, indicating he'd reached an edge of the forest. The trail was easier to follow now, branches of shrubs were bent awkwardly as if something had run past them. He picked up speed again, following the haphazard display of broken branches and dangling leaves rather than focusing on the ground below them.

As he drew closer to the clearing, he swore he heard voices, though he was pretty sure they belonged to people from his camp. At least he wouldn't have to carry the deer's carcass very far. Small miracles.

He crashed through the bramble lining the edge of the woods to find several of them standing around in a semi-circle, all looking at something on the ground. Was he lucky enough that the deer had literally fallen at their feet?

Then he saw the tracks leading up to the group. Those weren't deer tracks.

"Son of a bitch! That's my deer!"

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