AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl gave Carol all the time she needed to prepare for whatever surprise she had to offer him. He lingered, purposefully, in the bathroom for far longer than was necessary.
The cake had been far more than he'd expected. Nobody had made him a cake in as long as he could remember—not for any reason.
Carol had simply made him a cake, though, because she thought that he might like the tradition of sharing a wedding cake. She wasn't wrong, of course, but he hadn't expected it at all.
His stomach, even now, twisted slightly as he tried to imagine what she might be planning—anything with Carol was wonderful. Anything with Carol in the bedroom was phenomenal.
Daryl only wished, really, that he was as good at giving her things that she would love as she was at giving him things that he loved. She wanted so little, though, that it sometimes seemed too easy to make her happy. He almost felt like it should be more of a challenge. He'd always heard, after all, how challenging women could be. He'd always heard that pleasing women could be downright difficult. Carol wasn't challenging or difficult, though.
Still, some of her dreams were frustratingly left up to fate more than they were to Daryl's simple desires to fulfill them, and he longed for more of a guarantee that he could, somehow, make those dreams come true. He could no more manipulate fate, though, than command the clouds to rain.
When Daryl was sure that he'd given her plenty of time, he finally eased the bathroom door open and peeked into the bedroom. The light was off, but his initial glance into the room told him that the small lamp was on, and there was a dancing flicker of candles reflecting off the walls. It wasn't dark in the room, but it wasn't too bright.
"Are you ever coming out?" Carol asked.
He could hear amusement in her voice and it practically danced up every one of his vertebrae. He loved when she sounded so damned happy. She almost sang when she was like that and, whether or not he had anything to do with bringing on the mood, it made him feel like a million bucks just to hear it.
Carol made him feel like a man—the best kind of man—when she made it clear that he did something right.
Daryl pushed the door open the rest of the way, already smiling simply in anticipation.
She was sitting on the bed, legs crossed and leaned back on her hands.
"Hot damn," Daryl said.
Immediately she grinned and bobbed her foot.
"You think?"
"Holy shit," Daryl said. He laughed to himself. "But you OK? Your face—looks like it's on fire."
She touched her fingertips to her red cheeks. She was blushing thoroughly.
"I started to get—embarrassed," she admitted.
"Embarrassed?"
"I didn't know what—you'd think. And the longer I was waiting, the more time I had to…think, I guess."
Daryl laughed nervously to himself.
"How the hell could you wonder what I would think? You look…" He stopped, searching for a word that would be flattering. He wanted something that would make him sound like he had the extensive vocabulary that he knew he actually had—at least, he had it when there was a decent amount of blood arriving to his brain. "You're fuckin' incredible," Daryl said finally. "And I can't think to say nothin' more'n that, but I mean…all the good things…take your damn pick 'cause you're all of 'em and then some."
Carol smiled and uncrossed her legs. She crossed them again in the opposite direction. Daryl could practically feel that she was, for whatever reason, a little nervous or uncomfortable. His stomach twisted in response. He would do anything he could to make her feel better.
"It's tradition that a woman's supposed to be a virgin on her wedding night," Carol said. "She's—supposed to offer her virginity to her husband like a gift. It's something that will belong only to him."
Daryl felt glued to his spot. He hummed at her and nodded.
"That's why she wears white," Carol said. "The symbol of purity. I gave my virginity away a long time ago. I was a virgin when I got married, though. Still…" She broke off and laughed somewhat nervously to herself. Daryl let her have the silence she needed, for a moment, to get her thoughts together. "I wish, Daryl—that this was more than symbolism and white lace lingerie for your amusement. I wish—I had something to give to you."
Daryl was able to step forward then. Something about her expression and the tugging sound in her voice yanked his feet free from the hold the floor had seemed to have on them.
He leaned over her, catching her face and pulling her toward him. She kissed him like she meant it. She kissed him like nothing had ever tasted better to her than his kisses. Just the way she kissed him made his whole body respond to her.
He laughed, breaking the kiss.
"What?" She asked.
"If I say it, right now? I'm probably a son of a bitch," he admitted. "Because I got a pretty good feelin' it just isn't appropriate right now."
Carol laughed sincerely and the sound of it made his heart beat faster. He'd done that. He'd made her laugh, and a moment before she'd looked like she wanted to do anything else.
"Then I really want you to say it right now," Carol said. "Please."
"Just kissin' you makes me hard like I used to get back when I was fuckin' sixteen," Daryl admitted. "Like I could—probably bust up concrete with my dick or something. I can't hardly stand what you do to me."
"Hard is hard," Carol said.
"Spoken like someone that ain't got a dick," Daryl challenged. She smirked at him. "That's what the hell you give to me. Among other things. Hell, I guess you don't think that's anything, though." She was looing at him like she was trying to decide if she believed him. He accepted that she needed a little more stroking of the metaphorical type before she allowed him to get down to the literal business of it. "Carol—I'm not one of them men that really gives a shit about bustin' cherries. To be honest? The whole damn thing? I'm not sure I'd like it."
"Bullshit," Carol said, laughing to herself. "I'm pretty sure that was—well—possibly the only thing about me that ever actually really excited Ed."
"See—I know you blow my damn mind because you can even talk about him…and I hate him more'n I think I've ever hated anybody in my life, and that's actually sayin' a whole fuckin' lot…and still my dick's hard 'cause he knows we're gonna get through this."
Carol laughed and her face ran a renewed shade of red.
"I'm sorry," she said, ducking her face just enough to move her eyes away from him. He touched her face and brought it back to him.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Don't say sorry to me. You wanna know why I wouldn't wanna—bust your cherry?" A raise of her eyebrows was sufficient to say she was at least interested in hearing what he might have to say. "I've never done it," he admitted, "but I've heard it hurts. And I wouldn't wanna hurt you. Don't even like knowin' I've hurt you before. So—I'd just as soon that weren't somethin' I had to do."
Carol stared at him, hard, and he held her eyes.
Her eyes were beautiful. She was beautiful. And, for a moment, Daryl's heart picked up its tempo at the thought that, somehow, he'd convinced this woman to be his wife.
"Don't look sad," he said quietly when her expression seemed to hover between a smile and a frown—changing quickly in one direction and then another—while she seemed to be working out how she felt. He kissed her lips gently to stop them from leaning toward a frown.
"I was just thinking—I wish I could start over with you," Carol said. "Give you—everything. All those years. I think it would have been nice to have you be the one to teach me about…everything."
Daryl smiled to himself. He pressed his lips against hers again and she parted her mouth. Her tongue flicked across his lip and he accepted her kiss.
As he pulled away, he put his hand on her knee, pushing it to uncross her legs. She smiled at him, the corners of her lips just barely turning up, and he slipped his hands between her knees and pushed them further apart.
He kissed her thigh, near where the ring of white satin rested.
"What's this?" He asked.
"It's a garter," Carol said. "Brides wear them. You—take it off."
"I remember seein' that. Why?"
"I don't know," Carol said. "Maybe—like opening a present?"
Daryl laughed to himself.
"I'da opened somethin' else, to tell the truth," Daryl said. "Like…your legs."
Carol snorted.
"It's like—a ribbon, maybe," Carol said. "You take it off. Then you get to open the present."
Daryl slipped his finger into the elastic band and slid it down her leg with relative ease. He swung it around on his fingertip, making it spin in a circle.
"And now I open the present however I want?" He teased.
"However you want," Carol said.
Daryl nodded. He straightened up and reached around Carol to try to see how the top of her outfit was fastened. He fumbled, not able to figure it out, and kissed her shoulder and the crook of her neck to buy himself a moment to linger there—not wanting to mention that he was getting an odd sort of cramp in his calf from his position.
Without him having to ask, she reached her hands back and assisted him.
He backed away, as she let the top fall into her lap, and shucked his clothes. There was no need for ceremony there. He wasn't interested in it. Honestly, he was already anxious to be with her and he didn't really care for anything that was going to slow that down needlessly.
He would tease her, and he would pleasure her as much as she needed. He didn't need to be teased, though. Whereas she needed to be warmed up a little, he was on go from the moment Carol so much as hinted she might be interested.
They were made very differently—that much was true—but Daryl thought they worked pretty well together.
When he came back to her, she reached her arms up and started to stand up.
"Stay down," Daryl said. "I'm comin' to you." She eased back down and Daryl joined her on the bed. She moved, crawling as he hovered over her, to land them both more securely on the bed. Daryl took her nipple into his mouth and pressed it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, sucking it as he did so.
She pulled his hair, in response, with one hand and scratched his arm with the other as she grabbed for something.
Her responses could nearly make him come without even having to go much further. He loved the way she acted—and sounded—when she felt something that she thought was good.
She made him feel like the best lover in the whole damn world, even though Daryl was pretty sure that he was probably mediocre at best. Of course, he supposed that all things were relative, and as long as she thought he was the best, there wasn't really anyone there to argue or to critique his clumsy attempts to love her.
He slipped his hand between her legs. Through the lace, he could feel the saturating wetness and the warmth of her. He rubbed her through the lace.
"I should've shaved everything," she breathed into his ear. "I was scared I wouldn't have time…"
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Honestly? I'd rather you didn't shave it all."
"You lie," she said, laughing to herself. The laugh caught in her throat when Daryl slipped his finger inside the leg of the lace panties to more intimately stroke the soft skin there, spreading the moisture in preparation for what they both knew would come soon.
"Like to know I'm fuckin' a woman," Daryl said. "Not into little girls."
"It's been a long time since I was a little girl," Carol said.
"Like it that way," Daryl said. "Woman. Mature woman. My woman. I told you—I got no interest in all that other weird ass bullshit that some people get into." Sliding his fingers around, he found her clit and harassed it. She liked it best when he pressed hard. In fact, he thought it was too hard, but it was what she seemed to like, so he'd somewhat memorized the pressure that got the best response from her. She clamped her legs shut, like she was trying to trap the pleasure, as soon as he'd found just the right spot, and pressure, and rolled her clit just the way she liked. "Uh uh," he said, leaning his head near her ear. He laughed to himself and swallowed it back. "My present. Open them legs for me now."
She moaned even as she did so and Daryl covered her mouth with his own, practically consuming the sound. He pulled away only long enough to slide the panties down and get rid of them—sure he'd request to see them again sometime.
Lying back, Carol watched him and waited to see what he'd do—what he wanted.
He watched her as he teased her with his fingers. He liked to watch his fingers disappearing inside of her. He liked the way her brow furrowed, sometimes, when he touched her in a certain way. He watched her as he moved to tease her with his dick. He watched her face as he eased into her, and then he watched as he disappeared inside her and she swallowed up every inch of him. And, then, they were connected.
They'd been connected before, of course, and this was no different except that, for a brief moment, Daryl took the time to really appreciate the visual and the tactile moment of joining with Carol.
"Are you OK?" Carol asked, breathing out the words and reminding Daryl that his mind was divided and the part of him not interested in studying the moment was screaming for his movement. Carol did the thing where she flexed her muscles—whether she knew she was doing it or not, Daryl could never tell—and she squeezed tight around him.
"Never fuckin' better," Daryl assured her. He changed his position, though not enough to fully break the link between them. "You ready?"
"I'm always ready to be with you," she assured him. "Though—I do wish it could be…a real wedding night. The first time…"
"Knowin' we got every time's better'n havin' had the first time," Daryl assured her, slipping his hands under her hips and changing her angle enough to suit him. It didn't take long before he was pretty sure that her reactions were fairly solid proof that she was in agreement with him.
