"What the fuck you doin', Beth?"
The mirror doesn't have any answers for her and she sighs, collapses down onto her chair to drop her sweaty forehead onto her crossed arms.
For a long time, she just keeps thinking one thing: what the hell am I doing here?
The door suddenly raps sharply and she sits up, turning her legs to look at her boss when she puts her golden head in. "You ready? The stag party just got in."
"Erm, yeah. Just fixin' my face."
Andrea levels her with a sharp -don't-fuck-with-me- look that makes Beth's forehead break out in a new sweat. "Make it quick. I'm gettin' a lot off these guys an' you can too if you're clever."
Beth nods. "Yeah, no, sure, I'm right there."
Her boss nods and pulls herself back out of the door, closing it with a punctured little click into Beth's internal nightmare.
She groans and glances back in the mirror, pulling her makeup bag closer so she can rifle through quickly and retouch her sweaty face.
While she works, fixing the smudge in her eyeliner and re-lining her lips, Beth tries to breathe evenly.
It's only her second night in Desires of the heart -which makes her cringe to even think of- and she's not feeling any better than her first.
It's possible she even feels worse and everything is screaming at her to just put her clothes on and leave, but she can't because her problems don't just go away when she gets too uncomfortable and gives up.
The worst part is she's such a fucking cliche. A young girl, barely twenty-one who thought she could live big and fell hard instead.
All she ever wanted to do was be a singer but she knew it was never going to happen being Beth Greene, working on her daddy's farm.
It meant leaving, moving out to LA to work tables and hand off her CD to anyone who would take it.
Nearly two years were spent doing that, with nightly mentions from her mama that it 'might be better if you come home, dear' and her pride persistently ensuring her parents that she was fine, that she was getting somewhere.
She was getting somewhere alright, getting herself right into debt, was doing that quite well.
Until luck shone down in the form of an agent who claimed to have heard her CD and offered her a job, entertaining.
Of course, Beth thought she hit it big and she hauled her naïve little ass to Atlanta to attend her interview at Desires of the heart.
It says something that she didn't guess she was interviewing to be a stripper when she saw the name.
True to form, the place is a dingy, seedy little cesspit of back street blow jobs and sly twenty dollars passed between grubby hands for a ride in the private rooms.
It's tucked into one of the tiniest, -you-will-be-stabbed-here- streets Beth has ever seen and despite seeing it in all its glory, she still hasn't left.
Of course, at first, when she came to the horrified realisation that she was being asked to strip for money Beth had practically screamed 'no way' and gathered her things to get the hell out of dode.
Then Andrea: her boss, mentioned something along the lines of 'at least four hundred dollars a night' and Beth had given pause.
What the crafty blonde hadn't mentioned was that you had to do a lot to earn that kind of money, any kind of money. The girls in here were Feisty, with a capital F and they had their nails hooked into all the regulars.
If someone or a group weren't regulars, there was a very silent, very furious game of who would win them.
Sometimes girls would pair up to take on a group, but they were catty and only took the best girl out of the pool.
For Beth, in the two days that she had been here and the countless times there has been an opportunity to entertain, bar tend or dance for a client or group of clients, she had never been picked.
After expressing concerns with Andrea last night, her boss had told her to give it time.
The new girls were always the first to be chosen according to her and she mentioned that Beth had the look of a 'barely legal teen that drive the men wild' after which she gave a pointed look to Beth's small breasts.
Really, she should have known then to run and yet here she is, finishing her lips and readjusting her bra.
"Boss lady says now, B," one of the bouncer's hollers through her door.
"Comin'!" She shouts back, quickly lacing up her thigh high heels.
When she stands it's a little wobbly on the thin heel as she only really wears converse in her day to day, normal life, stretches the boat out to some wedges if she's going somewhere really fancy and she takes a moment to test her weight in her shoes.
It wouldn't do to slip on stage when she's already doing so poor in here. Taking a deep breath, she pulls open her door and lets in all the noises and smells, lets them wash over and through her.
The pounding music, the flashing lights, the chatter, the sticky sweet tang of sweat and oppression, cigarettes that linger on clothes after clients and workers slip out back to the smoking area.
It's heady and really it works like a cloak, like a face that isn't her own as it settles into a firm mask, ready to transform into smiles for the client flashing the cash.
Only a dry swallow as she steps into the main club is a hint of her true self and she gets it over quickly, scanning the contents of the room for where she needs to be.
Andrea has a stag do in but it's pick of the litter out on the floor, Beth can already see.
Girls converging together to whisper and eye the fresh meat, other more independent girls putting an extra sway to their hips as they pass the loud, raucous table full of the stag party, a group of men that don't look as if they attend these things too regularly.
As she crosses the floor to the stage, Rosita's piece done with and her song coming to an end, Beth runs through her song in her head again.
Due to the stag party's presence, her boss insisted on a 'look what the club has to offer' talent show that she always tells clients is a 'never before' thing but a tactic that she does almost every night, according to her co-worker Tara.
Whatever it is the girls decide to do on stage is fine with Andrea, so long as they incorporate sexy and a 'pick me' vibe that rakes in the cash.
Since every girl is trying to sell their bodies and lap dance skills, pretty much all the girls working tonight have decided to sing and dance or mime and dance, in most cases.
Beth didn't want to be the same as the others, but there is literally nothing else she knows how to do other than sing, so it's all she's got.
As the club quiets down waiting for the next act, which is her, she climbs up the steps leading to the stage amongst hollers and catcalls.
Since she's new, Andrea joins her to sell her as much as she can, pointing out her 'girl next door looks' and recent joining of the club.
Smiling her thanks, Beth takes the mic and stands as tall as she can, turning just enough for the lights to catch her pale skin and wrap it in shadow, which she's seen Michonne do countless times and which does wonders to her dark complex. She's hoping it will do the same for her milk bottle flesh.
"Hey, everyone, how ya'll doin' tonight?"
There's an answering murmur from the crowd which isn't too bad but also isn't the answer favourites like Michonne or Rosita get.
She forces her smile wider. "Gonna sing ya'll a song I hope you like an' enjoy your time at Heart's desire."
It's amazing that she's not blushing to high heaven as the lights die down and her track starts up: Beyoncé – dance for you.
With the club now dark, she starts her song, taking the mic from the stand to sit down on a chair.
With the first few words strumming into the air, Beth slowly spreads her legs, one hand holding the mic and the other sliding down her smooth skin.
There's a scattered rush of voices, of approving whistles as she gets further along into the song and her dance, running her hand over her skin and through her curled hair, tilting her head with a sensual roll of her hips and spreading her legs.
A sweat works up fairly quickly, as does the heat, despite the thin slip of silk gold she's masquerading as a dress.
It's almost autopilot, her performance as she's practised it all day, despite her lack of sleep the night before, drilling the routine into her tired brain over and over again, forcing muscle memory to pair up with her.
Know which line to spread her legs, which line to turn her back to the crowd, sweeping faux hesitant fingers over the globes of her ass and her hips.
She's nearly at the end and she hopes she's selling it to at least one of the guys on the stag table because if she doesn't make money tonight she doesn't plan to come back tomorrow.
When she swings the chair out from under her and turns to the crowd with a sexy dip of her hips, Beth's voice catches mid-word until she covers it with a hum.
From the very corner of the room, on the stag table, nestled between the leering men is a man with the bluest eyes she's ever goddamn seen, shining through the thick darkness of the room and searing into her gut.
They follow her everywhere, sweep over her flesh like a heavy hand and suddenly there's a fresh sweat upon her, a pulse of heat between her thighs.
God, it's obscene for her to get wet over someone's eye colour for Christ sakes, but it doesn't stop it from happening and she barely has comprehension of the lyrics she's singing as she finishes them.
There's a polite applause, a cheer somewhere in the crowd and Beth smiles politely, crossing the stage to descend the steps.
Really, she needs a minute to calm the fuck down but she hasn't got a minute. Girls have already tried their luck at the table, some in fours, threesomes, couples and a brave one.
Her eyes root through the crowd and find Michonne getting a drink at the bar, so she hurries over. "Hey, you wanna tackle that stag group?"
Michonne turns to her with a firm pout, not her usual scowl but not a smile either and looks at the group Beth indicates before she looks back at her with a shake of the head. "Nuh-uh, they don't look like they got a twenty between 'em."
Beth frowns and looks closer, taking in the ragged cut sleeves and the wrinkled shirts. There looks to be about four men in total, although she could swear there was more with all the noise they were making. "They're not that bad, s'not like we're a high flyin' place anyhow."
Michonne peels her lips slightly, giving them another once over. "Fine, but the dark haired one's mine."
Disappointment curls in her gut as she looks at the man with long dark hair and blue eyes that held her captive on stage. "The one with the long hair?"
Michonne looks again and shakes her head. "Hillbilly ain't my type an' that old guy looks like his overbearin' brother who's gonna want some threesome shit that frankly, I ain't down for. No, the one in the middle, the groom."
Beth snorts, peering closer and finding the one in the middle has a big, star-shaped badge that could be real if not for the Groom printed on it. "You're brave, the guys gettin' married, he probably got dragged here an' can't wait to high tail his damn self back to his wife."
Michonne shrugs. "Ain't no one else on that table I want, so agree or don't, I ain't got all night."
Beth nods easily. "Have him, I'm lookin' at someone else."
Her co-worker doesn't ask who her eyes have been caught by and simply joins Beth as she makes her way over, trying to keep her balance as she squeezes through tightly packed tables and chairs being abruptly pulled out.
As she gets closer, she sees there are four men, like she presumed. The groom, a dark haired friend to his left with a short hair style, the man she had her eye on and the older, possibly oldest guy next to him.
When she manages to get to the table, Michonne is right behind her and Beth's eyes immediately connect with the guy she's after for the night before she looks at the groom.
"Hi fellas, want some company?"
The groom looks at her, blue eyes kind and brown hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, and smiles politely, which Beth knows is the tell-tale 'thanks but no thanks' dismissal clients use until he looks at Michonne. "Er, hey, ladies. What're you offerin'?"
"Whatever you want," her co-worker answers briskly.
Beth tries to hold her smile but it's pained. The hell is Michonne playing at? She's always got a scowl or frown on, but Beth thought she would at least pretend for clients.
How on Earth does she ever get any work? But then she sees the way the groom eyes Michonne's tight mouth and fierce stance, watches the light sparkle in his eye and she knows.
Michonne is feisty, and it seems that she targets Alpha males in here because their natural reaction is to tame a rebellious woman and get delicious hell for it.
Beth can't help thinking Michonne is smart as fuck and whether she should adopt the same attitude when the older man of the group speaks up in a slur. "Hi, darlin'."
She glances to her right where the man leans over the guy she's aiming for, holding a bottle in his palm. "Name's Merle, what's yours princess?"
She smiles politely. "B."
"Huh?" He frowns, leaning closer to hear over the music. "Said, what's ya name?"
"B!" Beth hollers a little louder as Michonne talks with the groom to her left and the friend he has on either side of him.
"Said her fuckin' names 'B' Merle, fuck."
Beth glances at the guy next to Merle who had spoken, shoving the older man back into his seat. It's the guy she's got her hopes set on and she puts an extra bounce to her cheeks. "Hey."
He dips his head but Merle speaks over him, "fuck off, Darylina, she's too young for ya! Or you into that barely legal shit?"
"Fuck off, Merle," the man cusses. "She's too damn young for you, old man."
"I'm right here," Beth cuts in, her cheeks flaming.
How degrading that in a strip club she's being called young. The man's cheeks go a little red like she scolded him and his friend, possibly his brother from the shape of their mouths, stands from the table and knocks into her as he sets eyes on a stripper behind her.
Beth huffs a little and straightens on her heels, a hand suddenly gripping her wrist to steady her. "Sorry, Merle's a dick when he's had a drink."
"It's fine," she says a little harshly before she softens her voice. "Thanks."
"S'alright," he answers as he lets go of her wrist and settles back in the booth. "Name's Daryl, Merle just thinks he's fuckin' hilarious."
She opens her mouth to say something when the groom leans over the table and interrupts. "Hey, your friends gonna stay, you wanna join?"
Beth looks at the groom and Michonne who flares her eyes a little in a -hurry-up-idiot- kind of way that makes Beth blush. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll stay. You guys wanna drink?"
The groom nods and indicates for her to lean closer. "Got a tab at the bar. Rick Grimes. Four beers and whatever you an' your friend is havin'!" He yells over a track that's particularly loud.
She turns and Michonne sits, squeezing in between the groom, who she assumes is Rick and the friend Rick has on his left with the short, dark hair.
As she's about to turn forward she catches eyes with that friend who smirks at her and slips out of the booth, making it clear that he wants her to hold up.
Beth slows down and waits for him to join her side where he wraps his arm around her waist.
Heat curls her spine and she pulls away with a flush. "No touchin'! Against the rules!"
The man leans in with a smile and hovers his hand very close to her ass. "Don't you wanna break some?"
She does something with her face that might be another smile as she keeps walking to the bar. She had her eye on Daryl, but he doesn't seem interested in asking for a dance.
This guy isn't too bad, even if he is a little cocky and it's clear he's willing to spend money on her. There's no way she can be picky if she wants tonight to be worth it.
They reach the bar and she stretches on her tiptoes over the counter to shout her order and whose tab it will go on.
When she looks back, the man who joined her is leisurely looking at her ass and thighs, trailing over every lace on her thigh highs.
When he sees her looking, he leans into her ear. "You look gorgeous."
Beth smiles, replies into his ear, "thank you, you don't look too bad yourself."
It's true, he doesn't. Dark hair and eyes, a square jaw and nice lips, looks muscular under his shirt and he's tall, which is something she has a thing for.
He's not quite rough and ready the way Daryl is, but he's in that area and Beth supposes she could have done worse. Merle, for instance.
She's just a little bitter that the one guy she wanted wasn't interested, the one guy who, in her opinion, is the most attractive of all of them, though she has to admit the friend that's trailed her to the bar would be ranked second.
He leans in again now, his lips almost touching her ear. "You wanna dance for me, beautiful?"
The waitress appears with a tray and Beth takes it, passing the guy his beer. "Tell me your name an' I'll consider it."
He grins. "I like 'em cheeky. Shane. You?"
"B," she answers.
"Mysterious," Shane laughs, tipping the beer back into his mouth.
Beth smirks. "I try."
They walk back to the table where Beth puts the tray down and starts passing out drinks, sliding the last one to Daryl with a flirty smile.
He jerks his head in thanks, but doesn't talk and she has to stop herself from groaning as Shane pulls her down on his lap.
Looks like she really is stuck with this guy, so she best do what she can to keep his interest and his money.
Turning her head, she lets her lips get a little closer than she knows is strictly allowed, her fingers drifting over his forearm around her waist. "You want your dance now?"
He nods, smiling against her cheek as he mouths his words there. "You gotta back room?"
Beth stands and takes his hand, indicating the back room with a tilt of her head.
With Shane indicating one minute with his one hand to talk to Rick, holding hers with his other, she turns and bumps into a broad chest. "Sorry!"
Glancing up, it's Daryl who looks down at her with bright blue eyes until he leans down to her height to whisper in her ear, "you free for a dance?"
Her mouth dries up quicker than anything she's ever experienced in her life, her pulse thrumming under her skin as she tilts into his ear. "Your friend already asked. Rules of the house."
"Wait there," Daryl replies.
He passes her to Shane where they hunch close to talk to each other. Shane releases her hand and a couple of times looks past Daryl at her with a scowl, like she's done something wrong but then she notices, with a flutter in her stomach, that Daryl seems to have won the fight.
He stands with a straight face, making no indication to his sudden change of heart before he nods at her to lead the way.
Daryl sticks close behind her as they make their way towards the back rooms and she tries to keep cool, keep her mask on but her heart is bouncing in her chest.
Mostly it's exciting because she had her eye on him and she actually got him and he's an attractive, older man, not the perverted kind who stares at her small tits and asks if she can call him 'daddy' which has happened three times in the two nights she's worked here.
The other half of it is nerves because it is only her second night here and she hasn't given anyone a lap dance yet, private or otherwise.
She's been on stage though and it can't be all that different, can it? The clothes have stayed on for the couple of times she's been on stage, so all that will be different here is that her clothes will come off.
A bouncer whose name she hasn't learnt yet nods as she passes him to the back rooms and she smiles back, pushing through the beaded entrance.
Daryl hasn't said anything since he spoke to Shane and he doesn't say anything now as they walk through the tiny hallway and Beth tests the door handle on the first room.
It swings open, empty so she looks over her shoulder and gestures him inside. It's not that big in here or overly nice.
There's a couch and a stereo system, a large mirror on the wall, no windows and carpet that probably should have been replaced last year but is better than a bare, dirty floor.
Daryl enters behind her and Beth closes the door before she walks over to the stereo and the iPod that's plugged into it. "What song d'you want?"
He sits himself down on the sofa, in the middle Beth notices and her throat dries thinking about having enough room to straddle him, which she is allowed to do as part of the dance. "The one you's singin' on stage."
She bites her lip and turns to the iPod, searches through until she finds the song. Pausing it before it can start, she turns back to face Daryl. "You have any questions before we start?"
He shakes his head, rubbing his hands on his jeans but then he does speak, stopping her from playing the song. "Do… the club, this place, they do, erm… other stuff?"
Beth's pulse practically sky rockets but she nods evenly. "If you find the right girl."
"I'm askin' you."
She swallows, glancing down at the device in her hand so she no longer has to be impaled by his eyes. "Why don't we do the dance first? You might want someone else."
She turns her back to him for a second, wishing she could squeeze her eyes shut and take a minute to calm down but the mirror is on the wall in front of her, which means he can see everything she's doing.
It's a feature the clients seem to like when they get a dance: being able to see the back of the stripper as well as the front but right now, Beth thinks it's a pain the ass.
"Ready?" She asks, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
He nods and she nods too, pressing play on the music and dimming the lights to a more sensual setting.
The music isn't very loud so they can talk if they want to, but it is turned quite high and the words drum straight into her brain as she keeps her back to him and connects eyes in the mirror.
He's settled back in the sofa, bulging arms spread over the back and chest pushed a little forward in his grey shirt.
Beth keeps her eyes locked with his as she slowly starts to sway her hips, letting the music guide her despite her heart threatening to kill her.
Daryl watches every movement raptly, his eyes less than shy as they curve over her thighs and ass.
Beth continues to sway her hips as she trails her hands over the laces of her heels, over the peak of thigh her dress allows for.
Then she turns, facing him now as she gathers the edge of the dress and lets it ripple softly up her flesh, teasing a show of her thong.
Daryl doesn't show any outward signs of enjoyment or disappointment on his face but he shifts and Beth smiles.
It's a tell-tale sign, she was told by Sasha, that when the men shift in their seats it's because they're getting hard and uncomfortable.
She steps a little closer now, still pulling the dress up an inch at a time, letting him see her thong.
He licks his lips as she gets nearer; stands right between his legs that fall open for her as she gives him a devilish smirk, playing with her dress like she’s gonna take it off and then leaving it.
Daryl makes a sound, one she can't hear too well over the music but it almost sounds like disappointment and Beth's heart races with excitement, a shoot of it exploding between her thighs as her hands fall to his knees.
He jerks a little as she continues to sway her hips, with every one of her swivels, going down slowly until she's squatting between his spread legs.
He tilts his head back to look down at her, his bottom lip moving like he's chewing it from the inside.
She keeps her hands on his thighs and rubs slowly from his knees up to his groin, not touching directly but teasing with her fingers.
He makes another sound, this one she does hear, a choked kind of gasp as her fingertips just barely brush hardness.
Beth's throat convulses and she stands quickly, her thong sticky with more than sweat as she turns towards the mirror, giving him enough space to watch both her ass in his face and her in the mirror, running her hands up her stomach and breasts, around her neck and into her hair. The clients are not meant to touch but her skin is burning for it.
Turning her head, she asks over her shoulder, "wanna take my dress off?"
It might not be as sexy as doing it herself and in all honesty, she's not doing her job properly, because she's making it about her and not him, but she's excited to find that he nods and sits forward almost eagerly, his legs bracketing hers from behind.
Daryl's tall enough that he doesn't have to stand, simply has to reach up to grasp the ties around her neck.
Beth bites down on her lip as his fingers deftly undo the knot and skim over her shoulders, sending frissons of heat straight down her spine.
Without the tie and being silk, the dress slithers right off her, dropping straight to the floor and leaving her in nothing but her matching black bra and thong as well as her thigh high heels.
Daryl looks around her to the mirror and there's something so wild, so turned on in his face without him doing anything to show it, that Beth feels like the sexiest woman alive.
Emboldened by that, she reaches back for his hands, her heart practically in her throat and settles them on her hips, keeping hers atop his as she slides them down her thighs.
His fingers tighten in her flesh and she jerks a little in surprise, her pussy pounding as a sound gets trapped in her throat.
This is completely unprofessional and not allowed unless he's willing to pay for it to go further, but she can't find it in her to care, not when his eyes are looking at hers in the mirror and his hands are hot and large on her skin, touching her like she's made of glass.
The songs nearly at an end now and she needs to give him his money's worth so she turns back to face him, his hands landing back on her thighs, spanning large enough to touch her ass cheeks.
She nearly stumbles as she notices that his face is level with her thong and surely, he must see the spreading wetness there.
On top of the heat she's already worked up, a flush lashes against her cheeks and chest, fresh sweat beading along her forehead and the back of her knees.
Daryl grips her a little tighter and she moans despite herself and almost moans again at the heated look he gives her between fringes of his dark hair, staring up from nearly between her legs.
The song ends abruptly and Beth blinks into the silence, panting a little with his thick hands wrapped around her thighs and her only semi-naked.
"S-sorry," she stutters before she takes a calming breath. "Took a little longer than I should of."
He shrugs, his hands still on her thighs and burning through her. "S'alright. Was gonna ask for more anyhow."
"Yeah?" She asks a little breathlessly. "What?"
Beth expects him to ask for a blowjob or a fuck but what he says next is not those things and it makes her pussy pulse. "Wanna eat you."
She wobbles a little on her heels and tries to think straight but it's a little hard when his fingers flex and crawl, pressing in a slow massage on her ass cheeks. "You wanna know prices?"
She's not even sure how she's getting full sentences out because she feels like she could collapse at any minute.
The heat, the excitement, the nerves, adrenaline, sweat, lust, it's all getting to her, threatening to bowl her over with Daryl's scent in the mix.
"Sort it later," he whispers into the silence of the room.
"Okay," she whispers back. "How'd you want me?"
His mouth twitches a little and he stands, towering over her for a brief second before he takes her arms and gently pushes her down to the couch.
She goes with a soft sigh, her feet which were starting to kill her now reduced in pressure. She spreads her legs when he indicates for her to and then he kneels down.
Beth whimpers softly, tilting her neck back a little to watch him. "You sure?"
"Yeah, been thinkin' 'bout this pussy since I seen you up on stage."
She doesn't have an answer so she bites down on her lip and lets him hook his fingers into her thong, lifts her hips so he can drag it down her thighs.
For a while, he just looks while her heart races and her mind churns with incredibility. She can't believe she's doing this.
Being eaten by a client in the back room of a club where she's a stripper. What the hell has her life come to?
Although, looking at Daryl staring at her pussy with that look is definitely worth the scolding she's probably going to give herself tonight.
When he seems to have had his fill and looks up at her, he jerks his chin at her chest. "Take that off."
Beth's fingers tremble a little as she does so, arching her spine to reach the clasp of her bra and undo it. As she's pulling it down her arms she suddenly freezes, her mouth falling open with a gasp as Daryl's tongue swipes between her thighs, directly through her soaked cunt. "Fuck!"
He groans against her clit which makes her legs shake and she spreads them wider, planting her heel into the carpet.
Daryl's tongue is soft but not hesitant as he licks her pussy, gathering at the wetness pooling out of her and spreading it to her clit.
She flings the bra in the moment of sanity that she's bestowed when he pauses to grip her thighs.
Then he goes back to work, sucking on her clit and nibbling gently. Beth's neck digs into the back of the sofa and she wants to watch him but her head keeps rolling around with no strength and all she gets is glimpses in the mirror in front of her, showing him knelt between her spread legs, his dark head working between her creamy thighs as her nipples stand hard and proud.
"Fuck, that's so good," she praises, her hand falling blindly to his hair to hold on.
Daryl makes a sound against her cunt and it throbs in return, his tongue moving to work her clit as his fingers prod at her entrance, first one then two, curling into her wet heat slowly.
She gasps, turning her head to the right to look into the mirror, watches as a flush covers her face and runs like spilt ink down her throat and chest.
Her hips begin to churn with Daryl's fingers which curl against her g-spot without mercy, his tongue sliding against her clit in broad, long licks like she's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.
She's almost delirious with the pleasure and her hand in his hair is tight and mean, shoving her cunt against his face with the throatiest moan she's ever let slip from her lips.
He pulls his mouth away, his fingers still buried in her and fucks her with them hard and fast, jerking her frame around as her mouth gapes.
Beth body tenses as heat curls around her spine and then he stops and she lets loose a groan of utter frustration, looking down at him with heavy eyes like she hasn't slept in days.
"Don't stop, please, please, I'm so close."
"Yes!" She whimpers desperately, moving her hips on his fingers as she takes in Daryl's shining mouth and cheeks.
Fresh arousal sweeps her and floods through her cunt and he groans, reaches between his own legs to palm his cock.
Beth's eyes flutter shut again as he dives back to her clit, no longer soft and gentle but unforgiving, lashing at her sensitive clit until the orgasm just hits her, stealing her breath and pounding her skull with the intensity of it.
Daryl groans thickly and pulls his fingers from her tight walls with an obscene squelch. She lets out a small cry as the pressure abates and opens her eyes to him sucking his fingers clean.
A breathless laugh escapes her, though she's not sure why and she knows she should get up, be a bit more on par but she's boneless.
When he stands, despite only eating her, he looks fucked. Tousled hair and shining lips, burning eyes and cock hard.
Feeling loose and brazen, Beth nods her head at his tented jeans. "You sure you don't want me to fix that?"
He looks like he's debating for a moment before he shakes his head. "Not here."
She frowns, sitting up on the chair. "Where?"
"I got a place, not far," he mumbles softly, his eyes boring into hers.
Beth chews her bottom lip. "I ain't like, a prostitute or somethin'. I've never even done extra with a client before tonight."
Daryl grips his own hand and without looking starts to pick at his fingers. "Ain't askin' you as a… a worker. Askin' you as a woman, to come back to my place an'… spend the night."
Her pussy decides that's the moment to pulse desperately as if reminding her of the orgasm that just rocked her world.
Fuck the job, she sucked at it anyway. Reaching down for her dress, she gathers it in her arms and stands, looking up at Daryl with a smile.
So, for now this is complete. I may come back to it at some point since I have left an opening to do so, but if I do it will be when I finish Be still my beating heart. It was really fun to write so no doubt there will be a smutty chapter three in the near future.
This wasn't meant to exist like AT ALL until I finished Be still my beating heart. But someone, not mentioning names -cough- Coco04 -cough- got me too damn smiley with her comments and look where we are. I literally was meant to be writing the next chapter of bsmbh, but it'll have to be tomorrow or some time, because my smut brain is going haywire in raunchy/dirty/depraved/kinky mode and that is not the head space I need to be in for bsmbh, because I plan to make that a little softer/gentle/sweet/fluffy/awkward. If you have any grievances, take it up with Coco, because the damn woman is running my life by the looks of it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Beth knows she looks fine on the outside. A little less glam maybe, now that she's in her everyday clothes and not her gold, slip of a dress.
But she's not fine, she's actually hyper-fucking-ventilating because she's just had a moment of complete -lets-throw-my-life-away- recklessness and quit her job, gathered her things and met Daryl on the sidewalk.
Now she's riding along in his car and despite how wickedly handsome he is, she has to remind herself through her excitement and anxiety that she doesn't really know the guy.
Not to mention the fact it's only been a couple of hours and so far, she's given him a strip tease and had his mouth between her legs where he gave her an orgasm that even now she can still feel the aftershocks of.
Not the standard way to meet a guy, certainly not the way she meets guys. This is probably one of the most reckless, out of character things she's ever done and whilr she is internally congratulating herself on the sudden burst of freedom she feels, there's also the churning anxiety in her stomach of what comes tomorrow.
No job; stuck out in Atlanta with no place. The prospects aren't looking good, to the point where she may have to turn back to her parents farm with her tail between her legs after nearly three years of living on her own out in LA.
She sighs and rolls the window down, letting the cool night air in to stroke her hot cheeks and calm her down. Daryl's hand moves in the corner of her eye and she sees that he turns the radio on.
Quiet music filters into the car and Beth glances over at him, watching his arms bulge as he drives. His arms are quite distracting, especially in the grey shirt he's chosen to wear tonight, the fabric clinging to him fiercely.
It's a delicious sight, his thick arms and forearms revealed where his sleeves are turned up to the elbow, his large hands wrapped around the steering wheel.
She can't wait to get her teeth into him, her fingernails into those arms, perhaps while she rides him… God.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip and she squeezes her legs together where they're crossed in his passenger seat.
Daryl chooses that moment to glance over at her, his eyes zeroing on her bitten lip before he glances back to the road. "Y'alritr?"
Beth releases her lip, feels it throb a little as the blood rushes back. "Yeah, just wondering if you're safe to drive," she lies.
He snorts. "Should'a asked 'fore you got in."
"What, really? How much did you drink?" She sits up where she was slouching.
Daryl laughs under his breath. "Jokin', girl. Didn't even finish my beer 'fore I saw you with Shane."
A warmth like nothing she's experienced before curls around her stomach at the endearment he uses: girl.
It feels like it should be insulting, or demeaning in some form, being referred to as a child, since it is quite clear that he's several years older than her, but it isn't.
It does make her feel young in a way, small, next to him but it's not bad. It's almost exciting, heady like he's this big, strong man who plans to take care of her; look after her.
All the delicious ways he could do that right now, tonight… she snaps out of it and turns her hot face back to the wind, trying to calm down again and fish for something to say in reply, so the car doesn't fall into silence.
When she speaks, she keeps her eyes out into the passing nightlife which is moving at a sluggish pace, due to the late hour. "What did you say to Shane, earlier? To make him give up the dance?"
Daryl's silent and it forces her to look at him with curiosity, watching as his knuckles get a little tight on the steering wheel. "Said I'd tell Rick he's screwin' his fiancée."
Beth gasps. "What? He's havin' an affair? Isn't he like, his best friend or best man or somethin'?"
"Both," he answers with a grim mouth. "They been at it for months. Lori's -Rick's fiancee's- pregnant, an' I think it's his."
"Shit," she says for lack of anything else to say.
He hums low in his throat and she turns a little in her seat to glance at him as they pull up to a red light. "You blackmailed your friend, just to get a dance from me?"
"Ain't my friend, his Rick's friend. But yeah, I did."
It may be the red stop light, but his cheeks look flushed and Beth smiles. "You wanted me that bad?"
Daryl looks over at her as the light turns amber and her smile freezes at the intensity of his eyes, a look that no man who just met her a couple of hours ago should have any rights to wear on his gorgeous, rugged face. "Wanted you, girl. Minute you got on that stage."
There's a breathless, weighted silence that she feels like in the films they would use to have the two characters crash together in a bruising kiss, but then a car honks their horn behind them because the lights turned green without them noticing and Beth is jarred out of the moment with disorienting force.
Daryl takes the wheel again to continue driving and she stares back out of the window, trying to calm her racing heart.
There's no more talk as they drive deeper into the night and Beth feels her eyes get a little heavy. A glance at the clock tells her it's two am and she wants to groan at the sight.
She hasn't slept in hours between her shift last night, her performance practice today and her shift tonight.
The excitement and adrenaline have gotten her this far but with the quiet car and cool air blowing through the window, it's more than a possibility that she could fall asleep.
Shaking herself out of it, the car rolls to a stop and Daryl cuts the engine. Beth glances up at the block they've pulled up to.
It's not the best but she's definitely lived in some shittier places when she was in LA so she's not judging.
She unclips her seat belt and grabs her bag while Daryl climbs out of his side and waits for her to join him. As she does, he clicks the lock on the car and takes her bag from her grasp.
She laughs as they walk to the block door and Daryl lets them in with a fob. "I can carry my own bag, it's not heavy."
"You look tired," he answers as she follows him to the lifts.
"I'm okay," she promises, because it's going to be really awkward if he decides to change his mind and send her home, which is something she doesn't currently have.
Travelling out to the farm this late with no car and barely any cash to knock on her parent's door is not an appealing thought and it jars her awake.
That is something she has to do tomorrow, regardless of what happens tonight.
Beth follows Daryl into the lift as the doors open and instantly she meets eyes with herself in the mirror.
It's a dingy mirror, with key scratches over it but she can still see herself all the same and she's struggling to recognise the mirror image she sees.
Make-up slightly worn but still there, still changing her face, her curls slung into a sloppy bun and her jacket slipping off one shoulder.
She truly looks like a stripper after a shift and she cringes, turning to face the doors as they slide shut.
If she looks so different, before she has to go back to the farm tomorrow and be Beth Greene again, maybe just for tonight she can be a little different.
She's already started on a track of wildness, why not continue it? As the lift doors slide open, Beth takes Daryl's hand in hers and refuses to acknowledge the rolling in her gut that says it's a big deal, when it's not.
They both know where this is going. He's already had his tongue in her for Christ sake.
She's agreed to a night with him and there's no way she's starting her miserable wreck of a life tomorrow without a nights worth of orgasms floating her on a cloud of happiness.
Daryl glances at their hands but doesn't mention it, just tugs her down a hall to his apartment door.
Flipping the keys on the chain in his hand, he takes a hold of the right one and slides it in the lock, glancing at her with an almost embarrassed smile. "Sorry 'bout the mess, Merle's a real pig."
"Merle lives here too?" Beth asks as they step inside and he throws the switch.
The lights come on, illuminating an open plan living room and kitchen, with a window directly opposite the front door.
“Yeah, he won't be back tonight though. Seen him leave with some girl in there."
She watches as he throws the keys down in a bowl next to the front door which swings shut on its own with a small click before he passes the couch towards the kitchen, depositing her bag on the way.
"Actually, erm, could I have a shower?"
He glances up from the fridge where he had just bent to poke his head and nods. "Yeah, you want one though?"
Daryl nods again and pulls himself out a can of beer. "C'mon, I'll show you the bathroom."
She follows along, taking his hand again until they reach a door that he opens for her, reaches into the darkness until lights flicker on.
Beth glances inside, finding that it's quite small. A sink, a toilet, a towel rack and a shower stall, no bath. It's a little messy, with clothes hanging out of the hamper that someone couldn't be bothered to tuck away properly.
She turns to face him, leaning against the door jamb and it strikes her for some reason, how close he is.
There's a large difference in height between them now that she's out of her heels and back in her usual converse she feel's small cradled by the hulk of his body.
He hasn't got his beer, must have left it back in the kitchen because one hand raises beside her head and the other cups her cheek.
"You're outta my league, y'know that?"
Beth flushes, her neck tilted to look up at him. "Depends on your perspective. I kinda think you're outta mine."
He scoffs harshly but his thumb is gentle as it sweeps over her cheekbone. "M'a lot older than you."
"I know," she whispers softly, her voice almost trembling as his thumb strokes her bottom lip.
He leans in so close she feels like he's sucking the air right out of her lungs. "You're so sweet lookin', an' all I can think of, is…"
Her heart is fit to bursting but she can't help herself from asking, "what'd you wanna do to me, Daryl?"
His eyes flutter shut, thumb heavy on her bottom lip. "Wanna do some really, really bad things to you."
There's no possible way the words that are spoken next come from her lips but they do and they're heavy and hot and dark and she wants to drown in them. "Get in with me. Fuck me. Do whatever you wanna do to me an' I'll like it, God, I promise I'll like it."
Daryl's breath explodes out of him like a punch and he suddenly grips her tight, so tight, nearly too tight on her jaw and crashes their lips together.
Beth moans softly and grabs chunks of his hair in her fists, stretching on desperate tip toes to kiss him as hard as he's kissing her, to open her mouth to his sweeping, violent tongue.
They stumble before they clatter together against the glass door of the shower and Daryl's palm smacks against it beside her head, the sound ringing through her brain and her bones and her bloodstream like a twisted, dark manifestation of what her cunt will sound like when he fucks her.
God, it's hot in here and she shoves at him to rip her jacket off, his hands soon helping. Together they tear at the zip and fling it off, pull her top off with a moment of disconnect before their lips crash back together, teeth cracking with the force of it.
Daryl growls something against her lips but she can't hear, can't understand words or how to string them together as they fall against the shower door again, her bare skin meeting the glass and forcing a hiss between her teeth and past his.
Pulling away for air, their pants ragged, they barely glance at each other as she tries to undo his shirt buttons but it's too slow and frustrating and he finally grunts in annoyance and reaches back to yank it over his head.
Beth leans against the shower door, trying to get a little sanity back but it's not happening, because he's topless. Skin warm and tanned, shoulders as broad as his chest and his arms so thick her mouth waters.
She's never been very articulate with words or expressing herself, so she just stares until she can't take it no more and she pulls him close by his belt loops.
Daryl grunts as he collides with her, cupping her neck to drag her mouth up for another scorching kiss. Beth whimpers, fed up of clothes and barriers and she needs him inside her right now.
Pulling back from his lips, she drops hers to his throat, working kisses there as he reaches behind to undo her bra strap, which takes a couple of tries and by which point her tongue has trailed down his throat and chest to wrap around his nipple.
Daryl cusses, reaches down and grabs her ass, squeezes her so tight her cunt pounds with a desperate cry for attention.
She bites down on his nipple before she pulls away and yanks at his jeans. "C'mon. I need you to fuck me."
They work on their own jeans together and pull them off, as well as the rest of their clothes until they're standing together completely naked.
Beth's chest is heaving and her heart racing, her pussy so wet it's smearing her inner thighs, which is a level of arousal she's never reached before in her lifetime.
Daryl stalks closer and her eyes fall down to his cock which is so thick and long her mouth dries up like the dessert.
"Fuck, look at you," he groans, his hands falling to her hips.
Beth mumbles something unintelligible as he kisses her throat with hard, opened mouth precision and turns her knees weak.
Then his hand is blindly seeking something behind her back until he pulls the shower door open and shoves her in.
She squeaks and grips his arms as she nearly slips and then lets out a noise closer to a pig's squeal as he turns the water on.
It's freezing for the first five seconds and he laughs down at her, slicking her hair back from her face where it was immediately soaked in the downpour, the elastic sliding out.
They kiss again as the water heats up and then when the steam starts she can't take it no more.
She shoves him against the glass like he did to her earlier and reaches down to fist his cock.
Daryl chokes against her mouth, head falling back against the glass and hips straining in one of the most delicious sights she's ever been gifted enough to see.
"Wow," she breathes, her fingers tightening over his dick as she pumps her hand up and down his shaft.
Daryl fucks into her hand, either not responding or not hearing, his eyes screwed shut as he reaches a hand forward to palm her breasts.
Beth steps in closer, letting loose a breathless gasp and squeezing his cock in retaliation as he pinches her nipple. "Rough guy, huh?"
His eyes open but they're hooded and so dark, so lost in the best way possible that she could cum just looking at him. "If that's how you want it, girl. I can be your piece of rough."
"Fuck me, now," she growls, releasing his cock.
He growls back at her in turn and it's like they're wild animals, the way he sweeps her up and pins her to the shower wall, pressing her in so tight like she's claimed by him.
It does dangerous, delirious things to every part of her: her pussy, her heart, her head, her lungs. It's possible that she'll combust before he even makes her cum.
"You asked for it, girl," he whispers darkly in her ear.
Beth pants in excitement as he plants his feet, hooks his arms under her thighs, leans back a little and then plunges into her.
Her head flies back and hits the glass so hard stars burst across her vision but she hasn't got time to think about it, hasn't got time to remember that they haven't used a condom, that they're strangers bar a few hours ago and that she doesn't even know his goddamn last name, nor does he even know her real name.
She doesn't have time to think about any of it because he's suddenly fucking her in the most brutal, most bestial way she's ever been fucked in her life and she's loving every goddamn minute of it.
Her nails hook straight into his shoulders, tearing at his flesh as his cock drives deep and hard and fast and without mercy into her rippling cunt.
She cries out over and over again, her eyes rolling in her head as she works her hips as much as she can, Daryl's hips a force that won't be stopped.
It's almost what she wants but it's not quite there and a sob merges thick and heavy between her lips as she grips his arm with one hand and works her other between them.
He leans back to look at her, both their hairs hanging in their faces and no doubt make-up running down her cheeks.
Their eyes connect and it causes a fierce, violent trembling in her gut that worms all the way to her clit and it's such a relief to put pressure on it and rub that she practically howls.
Daryl whines, his head falling to her neck and biting her sharply. She jerks, a frisson of heat hitting every vertebra of her spine before it pangs in her clit.
It's shocking because she's never been bitten before but it's also really damn erotic and it makes the next hurried swipe over her clit so exquisite she clenches her teeth and without warning, cums all over Daryl's cock.
He fucks her through it, hands no longer even holding her up but pressed to either side of her head, his forehead digging painfully in her shoulder.
When she winds down from the explosive orgasm she practically goes limp and he has to lift up, take her thighs again so she doesn't slide like the puddle of goo she feels like right to the shower floor.
He takes one look at her heavy eyes and laughs under his breath, hand sweeping back her hair and thumb dragging under her eye to -presumably- wipe up her running eye makeup. "I ain't done with you, girl."
"Jesus," she groans, her cheek falling to his chest. "Don't know if I can take any more."
Daryl gently pulls out with gritted teeth and helps her stand on shaky legs. "Just one more," he whispers hotly.
A fresh pulse of heat explodes behind her clit and she's almost dizzy with the intensity of it. How the hell does this man make her feel like this?
Just when she's opening her mouth to say something, the particulars she's not quite sure of, she doesn't get a chance, because Daryl takes her hips and bends her with full bodied strength.
Her hands slap against the glass as water cascades off of Daryl's body behind her and sprays over her back and ass.
Her hair swings forward, dripping water running between her shoulder blades and down over her mouth to the floor.
It's dizzying for a second and he takes the opportunity to fuck his cock straight back between her spread legs.
Beth gasps, a million swear words in her head but all she can groan out is a throaty, "Daryl!"
"Yeah, say my name, just like that, girl. C'mon."
His hand wraps in her hair and yanks and Beth's pussy clenches so hard on his driving cock for a split second she thinks she'll cum again. "Daryl, fuck!"
"God, your pussy's tight, girl."
The puzzle her body has become is something she simply can't understand but she's enjoying it far too much to care.
Strained neck, Daryl's hand wrapped in the curls, arched back, spread legs, chest thrust forward and all her weight on the two palms stuck to the glass.
Her cunt is aching and it pounds every time he screws into her, his cock so thick and filling her nearly to her breaking point.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," she chants and he does, God he does.
It isn't long before her legs and arms are shaking, her knees weak and her head ringing, another orgasm tearing her apart and ripping screams from her mouth.
Daryl says something she can't hear over all the noise: the screams, the ringing in her ears, the water now cold beating down on their skin.
He's right behind her after that, spilling into her pussy with thick, hot ropes of cum.
The minute he does he stills and she does too, the shock lancing through her whole system. "Shit, I'm sorry."
He pulls out and lifts her and it's with shaky legs that she turns and grips his arms, tilting her head to look up at him. "S'alright, I'm on birth control but I'll probably get the pill in the morning to be safe."
He chews his lips as he cups her face. "I'm sorry, girl, I's outta line."
"Daryl, it's fine, really." She smiles up at him a little cheekily. "You know, you screwed me before you even found out my name."
He opens his mouth to retort then flushes. "Shit, what is it?"
"Beth. Beth Greene."
She grins. "Nice to meet you, Daryl Dixon. How 'bout feedin' me before you fuck me into oblivion again?"
He snorts. "Think I can do that. But I gotta taste that pussy again first."
He falls to his knees, tongue swiping through her cunt and she grips his shoulders with a desperate need for something to hold on to. "Daryl!"
This is truly is the last chapter - looking at you coco!- although, it's a bit like Caught... there's always room for more... if I want to...
Time to get the ball rolling! Look out for Caught, it's the next one up ;)
"You fuckin' anyone?"
Beth squints in the dark and tries to work out where the bed is while she stumbles through blindly. Her knee hits the edge and she curses as she falls down onto the mattress.
"Said: are you fuckin' anyone?" Daryl repeats.
"You askin' me as a woman or an ex-stripper?" She mutters, feeling like she should be offended by this question but mostly she's curious to see where this is going.
Daryl loops his arm over her waist and pulls her into the warmth of his body, his head falling beside hers so his answer goes directly in her ear. "Just answer the question."
"No, to both." She turns her head a little to look at him but only the moonlight is available to see by. "Why?"
"'Cause I need to know if I gotta outshine anyone."
It's such an unexpected answer that Beth barks out a laugh until he swiftly cuts it off, his next words dark and hot in her ear. "I wanna keep fuckin' you, Beth an' I don't share."
The sudden hot pulse that blooms between her legs makes her groan because if she gets fucked one more time she really won't be able to walk tomorrow and deal with her life.
Truthfully, she's never been fucked by one man as many times as she'd had Daryl inside her tonight and her pussy is screaming for more and simultaneously begging for a break.
Finally, she manages to find some sort of reply. "Presumptuous of you, to think that I'll be fuckin' you at all."
"I'll plead my case," he murmurs against her throat before he begins to press hot, opened mouth kisses there.
Beth tries to think of something to say, to box the pleasure up but it's not happening and when Daryl sweeps his prickly mouth to her lips she gives up and tangles her fingers in his hair, parting her lips beneath his insistent tongue, her legs parting like it's instinct.
While his tongue drags across hers she can't help wondering how he's made her like this in such a short amount of time.
His hand slides down her thigh, raising goose bumps and then between her spread legs his fingers nudge against the folds of her pussy, slick and swollen now.
Beth moans into his mouth and he bites down on her bottom lip, swallowing it into his mouth as his fingers slide into her. Her head falls back against the pillow and her hips raise, arms looped around his neck.
"You got the tightest pussy I ever felt," Daryl groans against her throat, his mouth nuzzling down all the way to her nipples.
"Don't sound, fuck, so surprised." He laughs against her skin before he pulls his fingers out, smearing them over her inner thighs while she groans in protest. "Don't stop."
"I ain't," he promises and then he turns her on her stomach.
Beth grunts as she repositions her legs, having to spread them wide where he's kneeled behind her.
He seems to like taking her from the behind: he's done it enough tonight for her to place her bets on it being his favourite position and she raises her hips, waiting for his cock to push into her.
It doesn't come straight away though, first his hands fall to her ass and squeeze.
As she moans, he speaks over her, "got the best ass I ever damn saw too."
Where her face presses into her pillow she smiles, cradling it under her arms and jiggling her ass a little for him, listening with quiet glee to his tortured groan. "That why you keep bendin' me over?" She teases.
He hums under his breath and sweeps his finger through the crack of her ass. She lets out a strangled sound as he slides over the tight ring of muscles. "You ever been fucked here?"
Beth's face flushes a thousand degrees but she manages a quiet, "yeah."
"You like it?" He whispers over her, his hands still massaging and squeezing her ass.
"Not really," she answers honestly and here she glances over her shoulder with a cheeky grin. "But with you I think I could."
Daryl grins back at her, his one dark and feral, and it makes her stomach dive bomb with excitement. "I'll remember," he says before he presses his cock into her pussy.
She hisses, face falling back into the pillow and her knees lifting so her hips can, his dick fucking through her tight walls with little resistance.
When he's buried, he spans her ass with both hands and grunts like an animal, the sound like a hot blast against her spine.
"God, feels so good," she praises.
"Yeah," he agrees breathlessly, his hands on her his leverage as he pulls out and glides back in.
Her legs shake but she takes it, his slow, easy thrusts that are so different from the pounding she got in the shower and she thinks it's because he's aware of how sore she's getting and it makes her smile, because every guy she's ever fucked before has never been all too considerate of her, so worried about their own pleasure she just becomes a hole.
Daryl's fucked like she's just a hole too, but it's been in a such a way that she's found it unbearably erotic, his hands so reverent on her skin and his eyes watching her with dark intensity, mouth pressing delicious kisses everywhere he can reach.
He's a generous lover, a fun one and he really doesn't need to plead his case for her to start thinking of a friends with benefits kind of relationship.
Especially when he hits that spot… "right there, Daryl. God, right there!"
He pants above her and suddenly pulls out despite her mewl of disappointment, falling onto the mattress beside her and dragging her on top of him.
She whimpers as she slides down on his cock, her fingers falling to her clit. He bats them away almost at once, the pads of his fingers so much rougher than hers and so good against her clit that she plunges down a little faster.
Beth's eyes had fluttered shut but now they look down at him and again it blows her away, his bare chest, his huge arms, his gorgeous eyes burning up from between his hair and she thinks she's so lucky.
He may think otherwise but he is so out of her league it's not even funny and the fact that this hulking, stunning man is underneath her, between her thighs is incomprehensible.
She licks her lips down at him and he growls. "Can't fuckin' take that look."
She means to ask him, 'what look?' but it dies off in a squeal when his hands tighten on her hips and swing her once more so that she's on her back, her head dizzy with the new position change.
Daryl's hands part her thighs and grab her knees, fucking into her cunt with a deeper, harder rhythm that makes her spine bow with the pleasure, his fingers back on her clit.
Beth cries out something delirious, something that might be a warning and he grunts, slams his hand against the wall above her head, his whole body flexing, arms bulging and the very sight robs her breath and explodes through her cunt, her walls clamping down on his driving cock and holding him there as she throws her head back and screams her release.
Daryl keeps fucking her, the waves of her orgasm stretching and stretching beyond rationality and she's still screaming when he groans and pulls out nearly too late, his cum splashing against her stomach.
Beth squeezes her eyes shut and tries to catch her breath, her cunt throbbing with pleasure so sharp it rides the line of pain.
He falls over her, his hand still stretched up to the wall, her body practically disappearing in his and that's when the door swings open. "Got quite the screamer in here, Darylina!"
Beth chokes off her after shock whimpers and Daryl's neck swings around to look over his shoulder, hand still braced on the wall and his body covering all of hers but for her thighs which are wrapped around his hips. "Get the fuck out, Merle!"
"Can I see her first?"
"Fuck off!" They say simultaneously.
Beth suddenly bursts out laughing as Daryl's brother grumbles and shuts the door, her brain slightly added with all the orgasms she's had tonight.
Other people probably would be dying a thousand deaths to be walked in on but even two days of being a stripper has slightly dulled her sensitivity to nudity.
"Sorry," Daryl huffs as he pulls out and rolls onto his back.
Beth yawns and flips on her stomach, which is her preferred position to sleep. "S'fine."
He glances over at her as he pillows his arm under his head, his mouth slightly tipped with a smirk not quite there yet, free hand reaching out to drag his fingers up and down her spine. "So, did I win my case?"
She snorts, her eyes sliding shut as her body buzzes. "Oh yeah."
Finally, the next chapter. Another reminder that my laptop is broke and I am writing on my phone, so that probably means a LOT of mistakes. I promise, once I've got it fixed, I will fix all the pieces I've uploaded from my phone. So, as usual, thank you for holding out for me. I'm going to upload the last chapter of Officer Dixon next and then tonight, I'm hoping to upload a third chapter to Lollipops. This is obviously a multi-chapter fic, but I'm not sure yet on how many chapters. There isn't even really a plot here because I'm really not very good at them. I just like excuses for writing smut. Anyway, enjoy.
Beth's eyes blink open to bright sunlight and she groans, turning her head to where she thinks her pillow is, only to find Daryl's sleeping face.
She gasps in surprise until last night floods back into her, her pussy clenching with the memory. He's not snoring but his mouth is parted and he's fast asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly.
She smirks as she rolls over onto his chest, her hands settling over his shoulders and her body curving into his.
He's got a morning hard on and she would love to ride him into consciousness but she's sore, used well all night.
Actually, she's surprised how early she's woken -judging by the daylight- considering how tired she's been, on top of great sex. Even still, it's morning and so it's time to deal with her problems.
She sighs and it wakes Daryl, his hands curling over her naked back. "G'mornin'," he grumbles.
Beth shudders at the low, gravelly quality of his voice. He sounds like that during sex, but it's even better when he first wakes up, his face soft and his hair messier than even hers.
"Mornin'," she whispers back.
"I'm starvin," Daryl groans.
Beth laughs. "You just opened your eyes an' don't even think 'bout tryin' to go down on me again. I'm sore."
His laugh rumbles her whole body. "Nah, real food. Wanna get some?"
She nuzzles her head under his chin and stretches. "Mmm, food sounds good."
"I'd cook, but Merle's an' ass in the mornin'." He pauses and then corrects himself, "Merle's an ass all the time."
Beth laughs again and rolls off his chest onto her back, stretching once more. "Your bed's real comfy."
He turns onto his stomach and presses his palm to her throat, cupping his fingers around her neck. "Welcome back anytime."
"Countin' on it." She groans before she sits up, the sheets falling to her waist. "C'mon then, breakfast an' then I gotta haul ass to my daddie's farm."
Daryl sits up and raises a brow. "Farm girl, huh?"
She smiles, sliding her legs out of the bed and searching for her clothes. "Not what you expected from an ex-stripper, huh?"
He snorts. "I ain't judgin', ain't got no right. Done some shitty things to get by."
Beth's stomach loosens, an anxiety there that she never realised she was feeling. It's nice to know that he doesn't think she's some sort of whore. "I was there for like two days, got confused with some agent thinkin' I was doin' a singin' gig."
She stands and pulls her jeans up after her panties, watching Daryl on the bed as he stretches in the space she left. "You sing?"
"I love singin'. Been out in LA tryin'a get recognised. Live the dream." She shakes her head, reaching for her bra. "Now I gotta go home to my parents 'cause I hauled ass here with no backup plan. Thought I hit it big."
"Still can. Come work for me."
Beth pauses with her arms in her top. "What?"
There's a tiny smirk on Daryl's face that makes her squint with mock seriousness. "I own a bar."
"What?" She climbs on the bed and pulls her top over her head, tugging it down to her waist. "I got into bed with some hot shot bar owner an' you never even told me?"
He shrugs, stretching his arms over his head and flexing his biceps, his chest bare. "I got into bed with a farmers girl, an' I never knew. An' a singer."
Beth rolls her eyes and climbs on top of him, her hands falling to his wrists and her face hovering over his. "You really want me to work for you?"
"If you wanna. I need a waitress an' some new entertainment. Win-win for me."
"Oh, it's all about you, huh?" She grins.
He smirks and rolls them over so he's on top, his mouth on her throat. "Kinda. Don't mind lookin' at that ass all night."
She giggles, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I can't sleep with my boss an' I ain't givin' up good sex for a job. Plus, I still got no place to go."
Daryl hums under his breath. "We'll sort it. Let's eat first."
Beth bites her lip and strokes her fingers over his back, stretching all the way to the curves of his ass. "I kinda need you to fuck me first."
His head comes up from her throat, his brow raised. "Girl, ain't you had 'nough?"
She shrugs. "I can take you."
He hums again, his hands moving to her jeans that she's only just put on. "Don't I know it."
"Look-e here, we got us a stripper in the house boys!"
"Fuck off, Merle," Daryl grunts. "Don't be a dick."
"Me?" Merle asks as if it's completely outrageous. "I ain't bein' a dick Darylina, though I see you got yours wet last night."
Beth snorts and Merle winks at her. Daryl rolls his eyes and grabs his keys. "Don't encourage 'im."
"What?" She blinks innocently as he holds the front door open for her. Then she throws him a smile and hollers over her shoulder, "bye Merle!"
"Bye scream-a! Come back soon, was a real good show!"
She laughs as Daryl practically hurls her out of the door. "You're a liar," Beth accuses down the hall. "You said he was an' ass."
"He goddamn is," Daryl grumbles. "Embarrasses the shit outta me."
She shrugs. "I like him."
They get into the elevator when it arrives and there's a small smile on Daryl's face that makes Beth feel like she's been given the seal of approval.
Breakfast is destructive to her stomach. They both ordered big because Beth doesn't buy into that bullshit that it's embarrassing to eat in front of guys.
She loves food and there's no way she's going hungry just because she's meant to be coy and flirty.
They're half way in when she pauses to sip her coffee and Daryl mirrors her, his food more eaten than hers as he watches her through the fringes of his hair. "So, you gonna come work for me?"
Beth holds her cup between her palms and shrugs. "I really should go see my parents. Sort some stuff out. Got a storage unit back in LA I gotta deal with an' I ain't seen my family in a while."
He nods, chewing the inside of his mouth. "Alrite. Just… take my number, yeah? I wanna see you again."
She smiles, her cup hovering close to her lips. "Okay."
After breakfast, they exchange numbers, putting their full names into each other's phones as if they're part of a formal arrangement, even though Daryl keeps giving her the eye like he wants to take her to the toilets and fuck her silly again.
Beth holds off from the pull though and only gives him a soft kiss on the mouth before she makes her arrangements.
Maggie's excited to come and get her even though she asked her daddy, so it's her big sister who turns up not long after she's done exchanging numbers with Daryl.
She stays in the car when she see's Beth has a man with her, even though she looks about ready to burst from her very skin to give her little sister a hug.
She turns to Daryl who dips his chin at Maggie when she waves cautiously. "I'll text you later."
"Alrite. 'Member what I said. Got a job an' a place I can sort for you, girl. An' even if you ain't interested, I wanna see you 'gain."
Beth smiles and stretches a kiss to his cheek since her sister is so raptly watching. "I'll be in touch, I swear."
He nods, hands in his pockets and looking a little more shy than he's been with her. Beth waves when she gets in the car, waves until he's out of sight and then she turns to Maggie, who is grinning so hard it looks painful.
"Tell me everythin'."
When Beth first gets in the car with Maggie, she thinks that it'll be okay. That at the age of near twenty-three, crawling back home to her parents with her tail between her legs isn't such a bad thing.
So what if Maggie is engaged to Glenn, the guy she met in college? So what if Shawn is living it big in New York? So what if all the friends she had or the people she knows are working, engaged or married?
So what if she's a little slow on the uptake? If she's still chasing her 'naïve' dream of being a singer? It's fine. Pulling up to the farm is fine, seeing her parents is great.
But then her big sister fucks it all up. Because she takes the opportunity of Beth's arrival to announce some big news.
With a ridiculous grin and a hand to her stomach, she shouts, "I'm pregnant!"
Her parents are over the moon, her daddy making comments about how Glenn and Maggie should have waited until they were married and her mama shushing him, then cooing all over Maggie.
Looking at them, a smile stretched on her face that feels too tight and wrong, Beth thinks about the snail's pace her life is on and internally, she withers under the beaming smiles of her family.
Everyone is going somewhere, is moving in their life. A new apartment, city, job, partner or baby and where's she? Back on her parent's farm, back in her teenage bedroom with all her teenage posters and back wondering what the fuck happened to her life.
She moved out to LA the minute she was of age, put herself out there and worked ungodly shifts in shitty places, not to mention the damn strip club she just crawled out of. Now she's back here, living like a child again.
She can't take it and when her mama turns to her and says, "Bethy, how long you gonna be stayin' with us?"
The first thing that comes out of her mouth in reply is, "oh, not long mama. I gotta sort my new apartment."
Her daddy raises his eyebrow and she smiles sweetly, a chorus in her head of 'liar, liar,' and a sweat pricking the back of her neck.
No one questions her though because it's highly unlikely that the baby of the family would lie straight to her mama's face.
Dinner comes and goes, Maggie promises to be back the next day with Glenn and then she leaves.
There's no one left but her and her parents, who kiss her on the forehead one after the other and then climb the stairs to bed at nearly nine o'clock on the night.
Leaving her alone, with nothing to do and nowhere to be like a thirteen-year-old teenager dying to go out but not being allowed.
It's unreal how young the whole coming home thing is making her feel and now she's lied to her parents and there's no way she can go back on it.
So, there's only one thing to do, and that's call Daryl.
He answers on the first ring. "Wow, you been holdin' the phone?"
She smiles when he snorts. "Nah. Knew you'd call me."
"Shut up," Beth laughs, stretching out on the sofa.
"How's the folks?"
"Good," she says enthusiastically before she sighs, losing her peppy tone. "I kinda feel sixteen again. S'equally horrible and nice bein' back home."
He hums and when he speaks there's a little taunt to his voice, "you want that job, huh?"
She bites her lip, glancing towards the stairs and lowering her voice. "Well, you ain't gonna be complainin' when I suck you off every night."
Daryl groans and it resonates in her ear, covering her in goosebumps. "Girl, you only crawled outta my damn bed today, don't make me haul you back there."
She hums now, imitating him as she swirls her fingers over the strip of skin revealed by her jeans. "You make the trip out here an' I'll stay there long as you want me."
He's silent but she waits. "You had 'nough of your folks already?"
Beth shrugs, though he can't see. "Two days is better than anythin'. Last time I visited I stayed for the one night. Plus, my parents are old, they go bed early an' rise early, an' I'm the opposite. I barely even see 'em when I'm here."
Daryl makes a sound of agreement. "Like I said, I gotta place. Little apartment 'bove my bar. Was too small for me an' Merle, would suit you just fine."
She chews her lip. On the one hand, it's really convenient, but on the other, it's like every aspect of her life is entwined with Daryl already and she barely knows him.
He's great in bed and he makes her smile, but it's unhealthy to be so tied to him. Even taking his job isn't something she's comfortable with if she's going to keep fucking him and she definitely plans to keep doing that.
"Thanks, but I'll find a place. The job though an' access to your bed, I'm down for."
He laughs but it's rich and merry. "Alrite. You tell me when you're ready to work, an' we'll get you in."
Beth frowns as she grabs the remote and starts flicking through. "That's it? No interview, nothin'? What if I'm shit?"
"Then you get fired," Daryl says bluntly.
She grins because she likes that he's straight forward with her. No bullshit. "Deal. Imma spend some more time with my folks but I'll text you when I got my place an' I'm ready to get in."
"That her? Hey, scream-a!" Merle's voice shouts over the line.
"Hey, Merle!" Beth shouts back on a laugh while Daryl cusses his brother out.
When he gets back, he's panting like they wrestled with the phone and she grins at the thought, especially when he grunts like Merle carried it on. "Bye, girl."
"Bye, boys," she giggles.
She's still smiling when the line goes dead.
Sorry, it's late guys! Been a long day, but I managed the update, woo hoo! Prompts are due up on Sunday and there are a LOT of dirty, smutty ones! So excited!
The estate agent smiles and indicates the space around them. "I'm glad you like it, Ms Greene. How soon would you like to move in?"
Beth runs her fingers over the counter and smiles. "How soon can I move in?"
The estate agent smiles back and pulls a ring of keys out of her blazer pocket. "Whenever you're ready."
Beth heaves a high and deposits the box on the counter with a groan. "Last one!"
Glenn moans to himself as he flops down on her sofa covered in boxes and newspaper from previously opened boxes. "Thank God."
"You guys gonna stay for a while?" She asks Glenn and Maggie, who flops down on Glenn's lap.
Maggie shakes her head. "So you can rope us into unpackin'?"
Beth snorts. "That obvious?"
"Yep," her older sister laughs before she strokes a hand over her stomach. "Can't put pressure on the baby neither."
"You're two months along, Maggie, you ain't even showin'," Beth argues as she rips the tape off a box.
"Shut up," Maggie murmurs as she gets to her feet, reaching down for Glenn's hand next. "C'mon you, we got our own place to sort out."
Beth wanders through from the open plan kitchen to the living room where she hugs her sister and brother in law to be. "Thank you guys, for real. None of this would'a happened without you."
Maggie smiles and hugs her back after she hugs Glenn. "You know I'll do anythin' for you, Bethy. I'm just sorry it didn't work out in LA."
"Maybe one day," Beth answers.
She sees them both out and then when she shuts the door, she leans against it, looks into her apartment full of boxes and sighs.
She really wouldn't have been able to do it without Glenn and Maggie, who loaned her money for the deposit and helped her get her stuff in a gruelling drive over to LA in a van Glenn got from a friend.
There's no way in hell that she would be moving in a week after looking if it wasn't for her sister and she's so grateful, but now that means she has no one left to ask for help in unpacking, so it all falls down to her.
Beth sighs and pushes off the door, glancing into boxes as she walks past them. She has no motivation to get stuck in and she pulls out her phone instead to scroll through her contacts.
Finding Daryl's number, she pauses for nearly a minute before she bites down on her thumb and uses her other hand to press the phone to her ear.
It rings four times before he picks up. "Hey, girl."
She smiles and flops down over the arm of her sofa. "Hey."
"Moved in, huh?" His voice grumbles over the line.
Beth laughs. "How'd you know?"
"Ain't heard a peep outta ya all day," Daryl breathes, Beth assumes on a cloud of smoke.
She smiles. "Yeah, just got shit load'a boxes I don't wanna unpack." Daryl hums and it echoes with a sudden burst of music. "What's that?"
"Mh-hmm," Beth mumbles, pushing up her chest and glancing into the kitchen at the clock.
"Work, m'at the bar," he answers on another exhale.
"Not far from here, right?" She asks.
"Mm, if your place is where I think."
Beth grins and strokes her fingers over her stomach. "Come an' see me. Christen my new room."
Daryl makes a content sound like he's smiling. "Can't, gotta work. Short staffed tonight." There's a moment of silence where before Beth can answer, he says, "come in. Do a shift, see how you like it. Ain't gotta start, but I'll pay ya 'fore it."
She bites down on her lip and glances around. She's not in the mood for work. She's in the mood for sex, but it's possible she could mix the two together.
Regardless, a little extra money to start paying back her debts and her sister would be nice, especially since they've got a child on the way that they need to start buying things for.
"Okay, gimme an' hour."
Beth's nervous as she rounds the corner to the bar 'Dixon's' after following Daryl's text instructions.
Not to work because she's had a million and one jobs that she's hopped in and out of by now, but because she hasn't seen Daryl since the day they separated after breakfast and she's hoping the feeling will be the same around him.
There's not many one night stands she's continued talking to after a night full of sex and now she's about to work for the man.
Maybe she should have looked elsewhere, but she can do that now and earn money at the same time. She knows Daryl's just being helpful, he wouldn't be offended if she found another job.
Beth really doesn't want to mix her working life with her personal one, but for now, it's all she's got. Taking a deep breath, she pulls the door and walks into a rowdy bar full of people and blaring music.
Straight away, she picks out Daryl by a side door and he spots her just as quickly, pushing through the throngs of people to get to her.
"Hey." His voice is low, but he's near enough that she can hear through the roar of the crowd.
"Hey," Beth answers with a smile. "Miss me?"
He smiles back, thin and barely there. "You wish."
They grin at each other before Daryl curves an arm around her waist. "Ready to get workin'?"
Two hours in and Beth feels hot and bright, her eyes wide and her energy soaring through her.
It's been a while since she's worked in such a fast paced environment, her last job before the strip club having been in a breakfast diner, which was often slow and dead, full of miserable, tired people.
She's on her way back to the bar with a smile for her previous table when she catches sight of Shane and Rick coming through the door.
Beth's stomach plummets upon catching Shane's eye and noticing the spark of recognition there. Immediately he changes his course and heads for her, leaving Rick. Beth notices and hurries to the bar for the next order.
Shane tails her, speeding up with his long legs until, within less than two seconds, he's standing right beside her. "Hey, stripper."
Beth scowls. "Ain't my name."
"Oh, sorry 'B'." He smirks, turning his body to avoid a customer and follow her.
She avoids a crowd and hunts for the table she has to serve. "I'm workin'. Go away."
"Ain't polite to speak to customers like that, could lose some money. Could also make some extra too, if you know what I mean," he laughs, sliding a hand down to her waist.
Beth shrugs him off, nearly spilling her drinks as she turns sharply to face him. "I ain't no hooker, so back off."
Shane suddenly glances up and goes pale. Beth turns, expecting to see Daryl and finding Merle instead, a little more mean looking than she saw him before in his and Daryl's apartment. "You heard the lady... or we got a problem?"
Shane shakes his head and lifts up his hands in surrender. "Ain't no problem, brother. Just lookin' for Daryl."
Merle jerks his chin. "In his office. Ain't near this poor little lady ya goddamn harrasin' brotha'."
Shane clenches his jaw but turns away and leaves.
Beth faces Merle with a gratified smile. "Thank you."
"Ain't no one havin' Darylina's girl, an' I like ya scream’a. You do 'im good."
"Only known him a week, Merle," Beth laughs, a little nervously.
Merle smirks. "Got a feelin' ya gonna be 'round a while scream'a."
It seems Beth's got both the Dixon brothers attention tonight because nearly an hour later, when Shane leers over her, drunk and slurring, Daryl turns up just as Shane's hand squeezes Beth's ass cheek, his mouth pressing wet and rancid to her ear to ask, "when you gonna gimme that dance then sweet cheeks?"
There isn't even a word from Daryl, just his fist flying over and over and over again, breaking the skin of Shane's face and shoving her to the side, sending her tray and her drinks flying through the air, glass smashing and people screaming as they duck and dive from the flying objects. Rick and Merle are suddenly there and pulling Daryl away.
Shane falls back to recover but then gears up again before Rick stops him, shoving him back and squaring up into him. "That's enough! Out! Now!"
Shane huffs, spraying blood as his chest heaves but finally, he leaves, shepherded by Rick who throws them an apologetic glance before he follows his friend out. Beth hurries to Daryl and helps him to his feet.
Merle has one arm and he pats his little brother down with a blasé attitude. "Beth, go clean 'im up."
"Ain't a fuckin' kid, Merle," Daryl cusses, shaking his brother off.
Beth hesitates in case he does the same to her but when he sees she's hesitating; he grabs onto her waist. "C'mon," she says with new confidence. "Let's go look at it."
Massive thank you to Coco for being my beta!
"Shit," Daryl cusses.
Beth pouts in sympathy, pulling his hand closer after she puts the disinfectant back down in the first aid box.
There's no other sounds after that for a while, just their combined breathing as she tucks the bandaged edge.
When she's done, he mutters a 'thank you' under his breath and pulls his hands away so she can close up the first aid box.
Looking up at him after, Beth places her hands down on his knees, since he's up on the counter higher than her. "You good?"
"Yeah, thanks," he grumbles quietly.
She sighs and presses up a little on her toes. "M'sorry you got in'a fight 'cause of me."
Daryl shakes his head, raising his non bandaged hand to stroke her cheek with slightly quivering fingers. "Ain't no one gonna disrespect you."
She smiles softly and leans into his touch. "You're real sweet."
He hums and lets his hand fall. "You gonna head out?"
"You want me to?" She asks as she pulls out of his touch.
There's an endless second where she stares at him and he stares back, just stares. No talking, no touching, just their eyes connected.
The question doesn't feel like it applies to that moment alone. It feels like it applies to every moment to come, every second of this thing they're making together as it shapes itself.
They met under peculiar circumstances, unreal ones. She played a certain role and he wasn't really outspoken.
They went home together and had amazing sex, but that's as far as it's really gone.
Yet now here she is, bandaging his hand because he hit some jackass for her and she's working in his bar. It's crazy and it's happening fast like they're cannon bowling into something they can't stop.
It's like they met and that was it, they were done. There was no question whether Daryl Dixon was going to be in her life or not and here it's proven, with how intimately they've entwined themselves together through sharing their bodies and late night phone calls.
It's scary, a little out of control but she's always been a free spirit willing to try anything, do anything, go anywhere and she's willing to fall head first for Daryl Dixon if he'll let her.
So when she asks the question, it doesn't just mean right here and now. She's pretty sure Daryl gets that because he suddenly slides off of the counter and steps in front of her.
"Don't want you nowhere but my bed," he whispers quietly.
"Mine's closer," Beth challenges.
Daryl smiles. "Not as close as my desk."
She grins and he smiles back, a small curl to his mouth that makes her stomach flutter. "Lead the way."
He does exactly that, taking her hand and pulling her through the dispensing night time crowd.
It surprises her a little actually, all the noise and people and conversations hadn't reached her in the bathroom with Daryl like they were just in their own world.
It's not as noisy as peak times since they're less than an hour from closing, but it's still loud.
Across the floor, she's pulled until she sees an oncoming door and Merle, not far from it on a table with a brunette chatting animatedly.
When he sees the pair of them, he makes to stand, but in front of her Daryl shakes his head at his older brother and Merle dips his chin in return, settling back into his seat with a little smirk.
Finally, they reach Daryl's office and he pushes her inside, turning to lock the door practically from the second she's crossed the threshold.
Beth grins and glances around in curiosity. "Cleaner than I thought it would be," she comments.
He snorts and looks at his desk covered in neat stacks of paperwork. "Wanna make a mess?"
"Mr Dixon," she fake gasps, turning and sitting on the edge of his desk. "Presumptuous, don't you think?"
As he stalks closer, her stomach flips in excitement, gripping the edge of the desk with a white knuckled grip.
He only hums under his breath, which he tends to do when he doesn't seem to want to talk, or doesn't know what to say.
Beth bites down on her lip when he steps into her, his rough, large palms gripping her under the knees.
Her pulse sky rockets and she tries to control her breathing, but she's struggling because Daryl's hair is falling in his face and he's looking up at her under his eyelashes with all of his body heat breaking over her, producing a sweat at the back of her neck and along her brow.
Why the hell is this man so attractive? By the time he's leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, she's lost all patience.
In a frenzy, she grips him by the hair and presses her mouth tight to his, thrusting her tongue between his lips.
Daryl groans and the sound falls right down her throat, bubbling in her stomach and flooding out to her cunt.
There's too much time being spent on working each other up when she's absolutely ready to go now and she pushes him away with a gasp. "Get your clothes off."
He raises a brow but does as she's told him to and she's lighting fast when she pulls her t-shirt up and flings it off, leaning back after that to pull down her jeans and kick them away.
Daryl's just as quick, practically ripping his shirt off and tugging his jeans down, freeing a cock that's already rock hard for her and Jesus Christ, how can she resist?
When she sees him hard, so ready, so fast, she thinks she understands why he gets so worked up when he sees or feels how wet her pussy is.
It's a physical representation of their desire for each other and so when his cock is free and she pulls her panties to the side, showing off her wet cunt with a smirk, there was no way it was going to be slow and thoughtful.
He practically falls into her, his hands gripping the skin of her hips so tight it hurts and she groans under her breath, allowing his hand to shift from one hip to her lower back and support her weight.
Beth leans back into his arm and spreads her legs, keeping her fingers hooked into her panties so there's enough room for him to slide into her.
There is because in less than two seconds he's buried half way to the hilt and with a grunt and a slam that rocks his whole desk, he's buried all the way inside her.
Beth's free hand grips him around the neck, pulling him in close and tight so his breath pants against her face and his body heat cooks her from the inside out, burning her flesh.
The position means she's so full and she can't stop whimpering. She also can't stop how loud the whimpers are, but it doesn't really matter because even with less than half an hour until closing time, there's still raucous drunks outside the door hollering and whooping, dancing and singing out of tune and covering up the moans and groans tearing from Beth and Daryl's lips.
There's not really a rhythm to their fucking, just a frenzied, impatient need to be together that makes Beth's head pound and pussy clutch.
Daryl grunts into her ear and suddenly all the air in her body is gone because he slams her down into the table, flat on her back. There's no sound left in her, so she's breathless and silent as she takes his driving thrusts.
One hand is around her throat and the other flat against her belly and it's like she's being compressed, pushed deeper inside herself over and over again, squashed down until she can't take it and suddenly she's screaming, her thighs shaking where they hang over the desk because she's exploded, her eyes flying open and her spine bowing sharply.
Daryl's just as loud as her, possibly louder, definitely the loudest she's ever heard him before and it's so damn erotic that it slides all over her skin, bubbles in her cunt and lets the orgasm just roll on into the next one until she's sobbing with it, her nails clawing at his forearm and tearing his skin to ribbons.
He takes it, not once faltering when he fucks her, squeezes her throat and cuts out her scream bit by bit, even though there's no way anyone can hear them.
It gets to the point where she's not sure she can take anymore, where everything is far too sensitive and her hips ache so much, her throat sore too, but before she has to give in, Daryl goes rock still.
It shocks her into alertness because every time he's cum before he usually fucks through his own orgasm and at first she thinks there's something wrong.
But when she swings her eyes up from his dick disappearing into her and coming out glistening, she finds his eyes screwed shut and his whole frame shaking.
She whimpers at the sight alone, positive she could cum once more looking at him but he's suddenly vibrating and again, it worries her. "Daryl," she gasps. "Y'alright?"
"Gonna cum," he groans loudly. "Pussy's so fuckin' tight, can't get out!"
Beth jumps as he shouts and he practically sobs, raising goose bumps all over her skin. "Cum in me, s'okay. C'mon."
"Shit, fuck," he curses one after another, falling over her so that both his hands are pressing into her stomach.
She convulses as he pulls back really slowly and then glides in with gritted teeth and something about the way he's pressing all of his weight down on her belly makes her shake.
Without any warning at all, she's left breathless by the orgasm that tears through her, pushing wetness between her thighs like a waterfall.
Daryl doesn't seem to be able to take it any longer because his nails curl and dig into her belly and once again he goes rock still, spilling his cum deep inside her.
Beth collapses back into the desk with barely any oxygen. "Wow."
Above her, Daryl falls down on top of her with a groan. "Fuck yeah."
With her legs still spread and him still buried inside her, the door suddenly knocks and Beth groans, knowing even before the voice comes who it is.
Sure enough: "hey, Darylina! If ya done gettin' your rocks off could use some damn help out here! You too scream'a! You work 'ere now!"
"Fuck off, Merle!" They shout in unison.
There's a creak of the door and then Merle's fading voice, "man, they got that shit down to a fuckin' art."
Oh my God, I can't believe I'm uploading Tonight I wanna dance for you again! Ah!!!!
“Why'd you go hasslin' for that damn 'partment if you're never gonna be there?"
"You got a problem with me bein' here dipshit?" Beth laughs, throwing a piece of candy in the air and catching it.
Merle snorts and tosses a piece too, catching it between his teeth with a triumphant smirk. "Nah, I like the screamin'."
She laughs and kicks him forcefully in the knee, reaching over from her spot on the couch to do so.
Opening her mouth to deliver some kind of insult, she's distracted by Daryl stepping through the door, rolling his eyes when he finds his girlfriend and his brother bickering on the couch in their sweats and the TV on.
"You pigs moved since I left?" He mutters good-naturedly, a smirk struggling at his mouth.
Beth tilts her head back over the sofa to look at him. "Did you get 'em?"
"Did I go an' get the fourth damn pack of Cheeto's you been crabbin' 'bout for the past hour?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the counter.
"Well did you or not broth'a?" Merle says into the silence.
Rolling his eyes, Daryl reaches in the bag he came in with and tosses them a bag of Cheeto's which her and Merle promptly fight over until he starts tickling her and she screams for mercy, smirking in victory when her boyfriend comes to the rescue and grabs Merle around the throat, digging his knuckles into his brothers head while Merle cusses.
When their play fighting's over, Merle throws her a dark look. "Can't handle the heat princess, best get outta the kitchen. Lova boy ain't gonna be here to protect you all the time."
Beth jabs him with her toe, allowing Daryl to manhandle her as he climbs onto the couch and arranges her in his lap. "Fuck off, Merle."
"Never heard my own name so much in all my goddamn life," Merle mutters but there's a smile there that grows more and more lately.
She smiles back and tilts her neck back to kiss the underside of Daryl's jaw. "Thanks for the Cheetos. You comin' in tonight?"
He nods. "Gotta see my girl sing."
It's been two months but she still flushes a vicious shade of red at the thought of Daryl watching her sing and being 'his girl.'
On the weekdays, she just wipes down tables and serves drinks, smiles nice and orders food since that's what they do in the evenings.
On Saturday's she sings with the crowd being more robust and upbeat. Sometimes Daryl will talk her into doing a soft song on her guitar and usually, it's original since she covers songs on Saturday's and they don't work on a Sunday.
She's still looking for other places to work but she has to admit, even just to herself, that she's not looking too hard. She just likes the dynamic too much, she likes being around the Dixon boys.
Daryl is all hulking, gorgeous, possessive male who screws her in a way that is only depicted in romance novels and Merle is the crazy overprotective brother she never found in Shawn.
By the time Beth came along, he was so used to being little brother to Maggie that he didn't have time for her and their bond never really grew.
Sure, they love each other but she couldn't really call him on a Friday evening and ask him to hang out, even if he wasn't currently living it up in New York as a hotshot photographer.
Looking at the two of them, Beth's not even sure how they made it to this point, it just happened. Working at the club first, then staying over more frequently at Daryl's, seeing Merle.
Then some nights Daryl would work and she wouldn't, but she would come over and hang out until the two boys got back or watched some shitty TV show with Merle.
Some nights she works and they don't, but that's fine because she likes the break they take from each other. It makes the time they spend together fun, not overbearing and she thinks that's why the whole thing is working out.
Tilting her chin back to look at Daryl, she nuzzles into him and lets her eyes close for a second. He's become so important to her. Everything about him: the sex, the jokes, the shows he likes, the smell of cigarettes on his clothes.
He and Merle, the club, this apartment, its steady fast become a part of her life and thinking about how they all met is like a distant memory.
Everyone at the club thinks they're in some freaky threesome relationship, but she just loves spending time with her boys and she knows she's got Merle wrapped around her finger as tight as Daryl since he's the one constantly telling her so.
They're so ingrained into her life at this point that she barely goes home. They're not saying it aloud, but she practically lives here.
Her clothes are in the washing machine, her favourite mug on the drainer and her hair is in the brush on the side, the one that Merle cleans out every morning with his disgusted ranting.
She might as well move in, she knows this and she thinks the boys know it too, but she's not ready.
It's been barely any time at all and she knows how she feels and she's pretty sure she knows how Daryl feels, she knows how comfortable her life is right now, but how long can that really go on for?
She still wants more than this. More than TV during the day and working shifts at the club. She can't do this forever and she doesn't want to.
Just because her dream bust doesn't mean it's gone or lessened in its intensity.
If anything it's burning inside her, rampant and desperate, forcing her awake at two am with blurry eyes, and hastily scribbling lyrics on takeout pizza boxes.
Her only outlet is the club on Saturday's where she gets to sing and sing and sing, keeping the crowd upbeat.
It's pretty much one of the only days she gets dressed up and it's Daryl's favourite day to mess her up.
He loves fucking her before she or both of them leave for work, says he gets a kick knowing his cum is dribbling down her thigh.
Ever since he cum in her on his desk in his office, it's all they do now. No more pulling out, no condoms.
It's dangerous, she knows this but she's protected and she does a test every week.
Maybe that's too paranoid but she's really not in the position to have kids and she doesn't particularly want them. Daryl is in complete agreement with her, she knows after a late night pillow talk.
He's older than her, but he says he still feels too young, not ready and she's fine with that because she's too young, not ready either.
She wants her career first and she's determined to get it, whatever way she can.
This forces her eyes open and her head up. "Time is it?"
Merle grunts when she jolts him and fishes for her phone in the crack of the sofa. "Seven."
She stretches with a groan, pressing her ass into Daryl's crotch. He grunts and then coughs to cover it up, his arm banding around her waist to keep her still. "You gettin' ready?"
"Yeah," she breathes against his mouth as she turns for a kiss. "Call me when you're leavin'."
He nods and she gets up off the couch to go and get ready for work, a smile working her mouth when she hears Merle mutter, "don't know why she bothers, you always fuck up her lipstick anyhow."
A pillow smacks off of flesh and Merle cusses.
Nearly an hour later, she's ready for the second time after Daryl forces her to her knees and feeds her his cock, smearing her lipstick just like Merle said and ruining her eyeliner to boot since her eyes streamed from lack of air.
They're practically running out the door at eight since they're a ten-minute drive from the club and doors open now.
It's not like it's really necessary for Daryl to be there at open up but it gets busy fast on a Saturday and Beth needs to be there from the get-go.
They pull in, kiss each other and then break away and when they climb out the car, she knows it'll be like that for the rest of the night.
Dixon's is popular and busy so they'll catch glances of each through the night but won't interact. She's right as usual because she doesn't get a glimpse of him until just before she goes on stage.
It's unreal tonight, packed from wall to wall and rumour is, it's because of her. Daniel behind the bar says the customs tripled since she started singing and she doesn't want to let it get to her head but it does.
Daryl grips her before she goes up, kisses her hard on the mouth and then with hot eyes says, "sing the song."
She knows exactly what song he's talking about and the minute she's on stage singing the first note, her eyes finding him on the floor, she knows she's going to get fucked so hard tonight it's a good job the club doesn't open on Sundays.
“Omg, omg, yes," Beth moans, her throat arched back and her skin shining.
Daryl sees this from where he's between her legs, thighs hooked over his arms and tucked into his elbows, his hands gripping his girlfriend's ass cheeks filling out his palms.
Jesus, his girl is so thick in all the right places it's like she was fucking made for him. She never fails to make his cock pound full of blood and in that damn dress she was in tonight, there's no exception.
Black and slinky, it's still bunched up around her waist now, panties hanging off of one ankle that's quivering up by his ear as his tongue traces her clit, digging deep in the top right corner because it's his favourite spot and it never fails to make her shake.
"Daryl, oh God," she breathes again and he turns his eyes back up to her where they fell to her pussy.
He's always so damn torn, can never decide where to look. Her perky little tits, her tight stomach clenching with the effort of holding off her orgasm or her clenched eyes, her pouty mouth hanging open.
He's nearly got her and he could go in for the kill now but he waits and teases her some more, tongue slow and soft until she spasms.
Four spasms in a row and he knows he's got her, but he still waits, dragging out the torture because she deserves it.
He wants her to know how much her dripping cunt and her gorgeous body in that damn dress kills him.
The heels are undone too, although some lace strings are stroking his shoulder because he pounced before she got the second shoe off.
One, two, three, four… five spasms in a row and he knows she can't take no more.
Her stomachs jumping and she's barely breathing; if he keeps dragging this out his girls gonna go into cardiac arrest.
Smiling into her moist, hot flesh, he digs his tongue down into her cunt and goes for gold, pressing a rough finger to the ridged band of muscles between her ass cheeks.
Beth keens and then cum is filling his mouth, his name like a prayer on her tongue and chanted five, six times over before she breaks off into pure fucking nonsense.
He growls as he kisses up her body, curving her into his side. She slings her leg over his body and shakes the shoe without success until he finds pity and pulls it off for her.
This is enough for Beth because she sighs in contentment, snuggling down into his chest despite her dress still wrapped around her waist.
His cock is hard and raging, pushing against his jean fly so hard it might damn break with the pressure, but she's already snoring and he's not down for cumming unless it's in some part of her.
He lets a little time tick by before he slides out from under her, dipping his fingers between her legs just once to feel the cum dripping down her thighs and the tight band of her cunt on his finger after an orgasm.
She groans thickly in her sleep and he's so damn tempted to fuck her awake it closes his throat, but she's tired and he doesn't, moving away instead.
Daryl's quiet as he walks into the open plan living room, finding Merle munching on some form of heart attack. He doesn't look over his shoulder when he says, "might've been ya best one so far boy," without looking away from the TV.
Snorting, Daryl ignores him and shakes his head, searching for a beer in the fridge. His brother is weirdly involved in his sex life but he's never cared before and he's glad Beth don't neither.
He stands against the counter and glugs on his beer, watching the TV from the kitchen, squinting to see through the dark.
Merle finally pauses watching to glance over his shoulder at Daryl with narrowed eyes. "Why you in here skulkin' when your blonde bombshell could be sortin' that zip breakin' dick you got goin' on there?"
Daryl curses as he rearranges his aching cock more comfortably. "Knock it off Merle."
There's only so much involvement he can take.
Merle shrugs, turning back to the TV. "Avoid the question then, ain't my problem."
Grunting, he walks into the living room and sinks into the sofa with a groan. "Ain't told Beth somethin' I should'a."
Merle pretends like he's not interested, but his eyes keep flicking to Daryl from the corner.
"Some pig-headed recruiter come round tonight, said he wanted to see Beth sing. Asked him why, said he might be down to offerin' her somethin', a little deal in some record company."
Merle's attention is snagged and for the first time in all his life, Daryl's older brother turns off the TV and gives Daryl his full attention. "That girl dreams of singin' an' you didn't tell her she got a shot?"
"Only come by tonight Merle, Jesus."
He sounds pissed but they both know he's bullshitting through it. He likes how much Merle likes Beth, he likes how much she likes his overbearing brother too, someone he doesn't like a lot of the time his own damn self.
"You gonna tell her?" Merle asks.
Daryl shrugs. "Know I should. Don't wanna. S'bad, huh?"
"Real fuckin’ bad," Merle straight up answers. "Cain't keep her away from her life littl' broth'a. She's always gonna wanna sing, they'll be someone else. Shoot me down but the girl can carry a tune, someone's gonna snap her up."
"Tha's the point," Daryl mutters darkly, looking towards the bedroom where he's pretty sure the love of his life is sleeping. "I don't wanna let her go, Merle.
"Christ," Beth gasps, pressing her face deep into the brutally cold wood.
"Daryl," her boyfriend corrects cockily.
She can't even laugh through the unh that spits between her teeth, his hips snapping hard into her ass, his hand tightening on the back of her neck and pressing her face down harder until she's struggling to breathe, her hand working between her legs and her fingers rubbing faster on her clit.
Between her thighs, below her working hand, Daryl's cock sinks deep into her cunt, his other hand balanced on her spine, compressing her down into the unforgiving edge of his desk.
She moans thickly as the orgasm reaches its crescendo, burning like lava through her veins in a rush, pounding all the way through her system until it explodes.
Her teeth catch on to her forearm where her face is turned as she screams, shaking so bad her knees give out and bang against the side of the wood she's bent over, scattering even more papers and pens that skitter to the floor and roll away to parts unknown.
Behind her, Daryl grunts once, twice, three times before he goes still, his fingers clenching so hard on the back of her neck she sees stars.
God, there's gonna be some bruises tomorrow.
After he's spilled hot ropes of cum into her pussy he pulls out, landing a soft slap on her ass that makes her gasp. "C'mon, got work to do."
She straightens on shaky legs and turns to scowl at him, zipping up her jeans. "You hauled me in here lover boy, ain't my fault."
He chuckles and reaches forward to readjust her top to cover her bra strap. "Ain't my fault neither. You know you been givin' me that look."
"The one that says 'Daryl, wrap your hands around my throat'?"
His eyes heat and she swallows softly, her cunt fluttering even now. "Summat like that."
She hums as she reaches on her tip toes to kiss his lips. "M'tryin' to cover the ones you left last night, stop makin' it so obvious I'm screwin' the boss. The other girls hate bein' reminded."
He rolls his eyes because she keeps insisting how much everyone wants to fuck him but he don't believe her. "Ain't my fault I gotta keep 'em off ya."
It's her turn to roll her eyes because he keeps telling her about all the guys that come to watch her sing and how they all make eyes at her.
"C'mon," she says again, taking his hand and unlocking the office door. "I need to actually work."
He makes a noise from over her shoulder to let her know how he feels about this statement before they disconnect hands and walk out.
She throws him a smile as she goes back to her job and he dips his chin in return. As she heads towards the bar, Merle passes her and she half listens when he approaches his brother.
"How long you gonna do this? How many shitty lovebites you gonna give her to keep 'em back?"
Beth frowns and looks back over her shoulder to join the conversation but then another girl lets her know that a rowdy bunch has come in, surprising for a Wednesday so she misses Daryl's reply.
She does hear Merle though, even though he's hissing beneath his breath, "don't matter how you feel Darylina. Ya scarin' customers away an' this place ain't gonna take the hit. Man the fuck up. An' the customers you ain't scarin' away? Are gettin' their ass kicked by me when they start talkin' 'bout what a hooker she is, covered in all them hickeys."
Beth's throat closes and she's irrationally angry. What's going on? There's no way she can join the conversation though because someone calls for her attention and she doesn't manage to stop for the rest of the night.
“S'up with you, girl? Been so quiet," Daryl breaks the silence in the car on the ride home.
Beth tries to tamper down the flare of anger but she knows he and Merle were talking about her earlier and she knows something is going on.
"What're you hidin' from me?"
He glances at her from the road and then back to the road, but she notices his knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"
"Daryl Dixon," she says fiercely, staring at the right side of his face. "You ain't give me no bullshit for the whole of our relationship, don't start now. It don't suit you."
His jaw tightens and her stomach flips. What the hell is going on?
"There's summat I gotta tell you."
Oh God. He's married with three kids and a house twenty miles out. She feels sick but she waits him out.
Daryl clears his throat and moves around in his seat. "Some guy come by. Said he wanted to offer you somethin'. Seen you online."
She frowns, completely blown out of the water by this compared to the million and one scenarios she was thinking of.
"An' offer me what?" She prompts.
Silence for a beat and then, "record. A deal. Sign you."
"Sign me?" She squeaks and she is not proud by how high her voice has gone. "Why is this an' issue?"
"I sent 'im away."
He sent him away, knowing that this is the very thing she has been trying to accomplish for nearly all her life? That she moved to LA for? How could he?
Daryl's fingers flex but he doesn't look at her. "Saturday. Sent 'im away. Been tryin'a get rid of people since. Been coverin' you in them bites 'cause every guy comin' in was takin' pictures of you. Sharin' you on their shit, their damn Instagammes."
"Instagram's," she corrects automatically even though her heart feels like it's going to fall out of her mouth. "Wait," she follows up with, trying to gather her thoughts. "You've been… you've been… sabotagin' me?"
He winces but doesn't correct her and it solidifies in her, the betrayal.
"Lemme get this straight," she says a little breathlessly, her hands shaking so bad she squeezes them between her thighs. "You made sure not one god damn customer could take my picture by coverin' me in bites an' then… by doin' that, hopin' no one else would notice me? That I wouldn't get signed? That I wouldn't have everythin' I've always wanted?"
"Beth…" his voice is strangled but she has no sympathy, no feeling.
"Stop the car."
"Stop – the – car."
The car slows to a stop and she undoes her seat belt without looking at him, reaching for her door. Daryl grabs her arm and she jerks but he holds tight and forces her to look at him. "What?"
"M'sorry. I fucked up alrite? I ain't good at this, I dunno how to do this!" He says desperately, eyes wild and hand hot on her skin.
The open car door allows wind to freeze her, freeze her insides, her heart. "Dunno how to support me? Dunno how to help me accomplish my goal? My dream? Did you fuck me 'cause you wanted to or was that just an excuse for your sick intentions? Excuse to bite me and bruise me? Did you get off on it? Knowin' how meanin' less it was?"
His skin goes white and his hand squeezes her wrist but she stares at him and doesn't flinch. He looks so pained, so damn sorry that her gut twists but she can't give in, she can't. How could he do this to her?
Finally, he lets go.
She gets out of the car, slams the door and walks away.
It's gonna be a bumpy ride.
"Beth, M'sorry," Daryl moans through the crack of her front door. "Please lemme in."
Beth squeezes her eyes closed and pinches the bridge of her nose. He's been going at it for nearly twenty minutes now and she's sure all her neighbours are popping their heads out to get a look at the drama that her life has become, but she couldn't care less.
She feels so fucking shit and worst of all, the only person she wants to talk to is Daryl. When she has a shitty customer or gets another annoying text from an old friend, the first person she tells is Daryl.
Either through the phone or in person, since she's with him nearly every hour of the day. That's the problem of being best friends with your partner, the literal one downfall: there's no one to talk to when something bad happens in the relationship.
The friendship is null and void, leaving her cold and empty since she climbed out of his car nearly three hours ago.
Earlier in the evening she came back to her lonely apartment and sighed out into the void, not even flicking the lights on before she checked her phone.
He didn't try to call, or text. Beth scrolled through her contacts, looking for someone, anyone who she could talk to, but there was no one.
Merle maybe, but he didn't have much capacity for meaningful conversations and she didn't want to force him to play favourites, even if he clearly was sticking up for her back at the club.
Her thumb hovered over Daryl's name, wondering if she should have apologised, wondering if she had overreacted, but her pride stopped her and she locked the phone back up.
Opening up the apartment was horrible. Her sheets smelt from weeks of not sleeping on them, the very air stale. She bared throwing the windows open for a half hour but its December and freezing cold out.
Even the cheer of the fire and the fresh wash of towels and sheets didn't make the place feel like home.
Sure after an hour or so it was cheery and warm, smelling of fresh, clean washing but it didn't help, it didn't fill the ache in her chest, take the lump from her throat.
Anything else and she could have forgiven it. She's not winning any feminist of the year awards at the thought but she knows it's true.
Absolutely anything else bar being with another woman and she would have gotten over it. Not her dream. Anything but that.
To sabotage her like that, to turn down the chance of a lifetime opportunity on her behalf… no.
Now here she is, fingers pressed to her throat, freshly showered and wondering if she should let her boyfriend in or ignore him and let him go, let him leave her life.
Dramatic, yes, but if this is something she can't get over now, will she ever? Will it always be a festering thing inside? A resentment?
Not to mention how he's going to react when she contacts the agent who tried to recruit her. Is that something she's going to have to defend?
Is it just going to be an uphill battle from here? She can't live like that and she doesn't want to. She especially doesn't want to go into a career without support from her partner.
"Beth," Daryl pleads again, a little slurred and she rolls her eyes. "M'gonna go."
Her heart throbs in her mouth and she can't do it. She can't let him leave. It's stupid and pointless, the argument she knows is coming already having played out before her, but she rushes to the door and smacks the handle down.
From the other side, Daryl turns back to look at her, having just started making his way down the hall.
Beth stares at him for a second, annoyed that's he's red eyed and clearly drunk, annoyed that he took three hours to turn up and annoyed that he did this in the first place.
A Her jaw feels tense and horrible when she jerks it towards the inside of her apartment, everything inside her recoiling at the hostile atmosphere she's pouring out in waves.
Daryl moves past her and she shuts the door behind him, folding her arms over her chest as she puts her back to the front door. "What'du want?"
He shrugs and this aggravates her too. "I swear to God, Daryl."
"M'sorry," he says again, picking at his fingers.
"That all? How many drinks that take you to come up with?"
"No, Daryl. I don't know what you're tryin' to accomplish here but you ain't doin' a real good job."
He rolls his head on his shoulders and levels her with a look soberer than the previous one. "I was wrong, alrite? I know that. I's wrong, but I's fuckin' ascared, Beth. Firs' it was just these guys. More guys than we usually have in, y'know? They was takin' pictures an' I thought it was 'cause they wanted you, 'cause they wanted to fuck you."
Beth nods. This she can understand. She'd be really fucking perplexed if a bunch of girls starting taking pictures of Daryl and suspicious too.
"So I got jealous. I bit you up an' marked you, not jus' 'cause'a that, but 'cause I like it. I like knowin' you're mine."
The way he says it makes her pussy clutch and she hates it. She hates what a slave her body is to him.
"Then the guy comes in, says he'd seen you online. It clicked then, that they were sharin' your music, your fuckin' amazin' talent, Beth. Amazin'."
She tries not to smile but she epically fails and Daryl steps closer, clearly encouraged by it. "I jus' wanna be with you. I don't wanna lose you, girl, best thing that's ever goddamn happened to me. You think I changed the sheets every two days? You think I come back to a clean house? You think I had little hand towels in the fuckin' bathroom? You came Beth an' you brought all this… all this damn life with you an' I was greedy, I sucked that shit dry."
God, why? Why does he have to make her feel like this?
"Thing is, girl, I don't wanna let you go, an' I know the minute the world sees you, you're gonna fly so damn high and leave me down here on the ground."
He collapses back at this, falling into the wall like the words have released him of a terrible weight.
It makes her heart ache and she can't hold back, she rushes to him, falling into his chest and relishing his thick arms wrapping around her body.
"We don't even know if this is gonna go anywhere, Daryl. I could flop, this whole thing could. Five seconds of fame an' I'm back to workin' at the club."
He snorts, his face buried in her hair. "We both know that ain't true, girl. We both know."
She sighs deeply and tips her chin up to him. "I ain't makin' promises I can't keep. I'm goin' for this, I can't not an' it might not work out, but if it does? Daryl, can't we jus' enjoy what we got now?"
Beth bites her bottom lip to stop it wobbling, her throat clamping down so her words are thick and strangled, emotion clinging to her skin and beading in her eyes.
Her boyfriend stares down at her and doesn't say a word. Still doesn't say a word when he takes her mouth in a scorching kiss, his big hands cradling her head.
He doesn't speak one damn word as he backs her up, then bends his knees and picks her up, her legs wrapping around his waist without breaking the kiss.
They kiss all the way down the hall, when he lowers her on the bed, when he detaches their lips to strip her clothes and he doesn't speak any coherent words when he parts her thighs and slides into her.
She falls asleep without one reply to her question and when she opens them in the morning, Daryl's gone, leaving behind a card with an agent named Killian Peters. Nothing else, just the card and when she checks her phone, it's as empty as her bed.
Killian Peters is a six foot four God.
Beth's starting to see why Daryl was so shook up by him. She cringes internally at Daryl's name. So, not thinking about it is the route she's going down today: good to know.
Her eyes continue to track Killian as he moves around his office, firmly dismissing her personal issues. He's standing while she sits in one of his chairs.
There's records on the walls: artists she recognises. The windows are wide and tall, allowing floods of weak sunlight and tiny swirls of snow to fill her vision.
It's cold out which is why she's in a jumper but the heating is on full blast in Killian's office and she's sweating so bad she's worried she's going to give off an odour soon.
Not like she wasn't sweating before meeting him since nerves are riding her as hard as the coffee she's been guzzling all morning.
The office is large and minimal, but striking in its simplicity, unlike Killian. His jawline and cheekbones are as sharp as the blades on her kitchen counter and his eyes the same dark brown as the coffee in her cup.
He's tall and wiry in his suit and he gives off the air of a man who knows his shit. When he turns back to face her, his features strike her again.
He's pretty, though he's not her type because of that. Beth prefers the more rugged approach which was her attraction to… nope, not thinking about him today. Not after he just left her in her bed two days ago with no text or note or – stop.
She forces her eyes back to Killian who takes a seat in his impressive office chair. It's tall, even more so than him, possibly custom made and leather, black.
It beautifully suits the backdrop of the opaque skyline and his bright blonde hair is striking against it. The whole scene makes Beth feel like she's meeting with a goddamn mafia boss.
He clears his thought throat and runs his manicured fingernails over the pad of his expensive laptop, waking it up. "So, Beth Greene."
She smiles because this is the first thing he's said to her and everything she's prepared to say has gone out of the window.
He breezes past this. "You're the girl from Dixon's, right?"
Beth tries not to cringe and feels as if she fails at the interested twinkle in his eye. "That's me."
"The manager there turned me away. Surprised you found me."
"I was busy at the time, he gave me your card later," she lies smoothly.
"Interesting, as I gave him the card a while ago. Why the hesitation?"
She pauses, giving consideration to the thought. "I had to consider a few things."
Not exactly a lie.
His dark eyebrow tips. "Really? Such as?"
"The plausibility of what you're offerin'. All managers think they can take me somewhere an' yet it never quite works out," she lies.
She's hoping pretending like she's had multiple offers before will make her seem more interesting and appeal to a competitive side to try and keep her.
Killian doesn't appear ruffled though and simply hums like he's humouring her which makes Beth flush with embarrassment and she quickly sips her still scalding coffee.
It feels like she's been here a lifetime but the assistant only made up the cup some ten minutes ago and it burns all down her throat like whiskey which is Daryl's favourite… no.
Killian still doesn't speak by the time she lowers her cup back to her lap so she clears her throat and recrosses her legs just to pass the lapsing time between speech.
"Regardless, you're here." He flashes a brief, blinding smile before it drops. "Let's get straight to the point, shall we? You want to sing, I want to make money and we both get what we want if we work together. Not beating around the bush here, Beth, I can make you money because I can sell your voice."
A warm flush builds in her chest and she shuffles a little in her chair, trying not to look too impressed at his no bullshit speech. "What do you have planned?"
"First, a few tracks on our premium website, then a meet and greet with a local talk show. Some couple of those until the interest comes in, from there… a gig. Small first, like the bar you came from and then bigger. Around some places, no flying, not yet. Tester tour, if you like. Let the hype build while you travel and then reconvene when it's appropriate."
Beth swallows and sits upright, remaining passive. "A premium website?"
"Our website is full of new artists on the scene. We have people pay a fee a month to pour through tracks and create hype on social media, spread the word if you will. We rely on these people for momentum, to be your voice. To showcase you. Tell their friends, their parents and so on."
"So if interest doesn't build? If they don't 'hype' then what? Nothin'?"
Killian shrugs. "I've never been in this position. I've never not successfully sold an artist and created hype. It doesn't happen."
"You're jus' that good?" Beth asks in disbelief, a doubt stirring in her stomach.
"I am," he answers without missing a beat. "I know what the people want, Beth. I know how to do my job."
She has nothing to say for the moment so she sips her coffee first while she mulls over her words. "You think people want me?"
"I think people want your voice. Your accent. They love a good accent. You're pretty, you're young. Your outfit is exactly what every girl out there is wearing."
Beth's not sure if this is a compliment or not.
He leans forward, gaining momentum. "Your hair? Longer maybe or shorter. Mid-length doesn't sell. You're fit, in shape. Not very curvy, but with money?" He shrugs like this is a problem already dealt with. "You could look brand new in less than a year."
She flushes both with anger and embarrassment. "I don't wanna be someone brand new. I'm sorry Killian, but you ain't the manager for me. If I'm makin' music? S'only gonna be me makin' it. Beth Greene."
She makes to stand but he shakes his head and for some reason, this stops her. He doesn't talk or grab her or stand but the shake of his head is such a loud demand in the quiet room that she freezes in place.
"I'm just saying this for your benefit, Beth. Once you get into the industry, you think about these things. You're competing against other artists. You don't just sell records. You sell your hair and your smile and your Instagram page, your dating life. Your life becomes there's, I'm merely making suggestions for the future."
Beth narrows her eyes at him. "You're makin' it sound like I'm gonna hit it big on the first go 'round."
"With me as your manager? You are," he answers simply.
When she doesn't react to this, he leans back in his chair and links his hands, bringing to attention his thick rings on both thumbs and middle fingers.
"Look. I'm saying give it a shot. No tricks, no surprises. We get you in the studio, get a track for the website, and take it from there. Won't cost you nothing and expenses are covered by us while we move around. What have you got to lose? Or do you want to sing on a Saturday night at a club for the rest of your life?"
She bites down on her lip, her stomach churning with a whole mixture of things she can't name just yet. What has she got to lose?
She's already lost… maybe lost something beautiful from her life for this, she can at least follow through. Delicately putting down the coffee cup, she primly clears her throat and nods.
"Okay. Let's do this."
FYI... two chapters left!
The first thing Beth wants to do is celebrate.
It's not like she wants to invest too hard into Killian, but he sells himself well and she can't help the trickles of hope in her chest.
Regardless of what she thinks, what he said is true. What is it going to cost her? Possibly it's already cost her someone dear to her heart so what more does she have to lose?
So, she wants to celebrate. Problem is, as she comes to a stop on the busy corner outside the record company, she realises she doesn't actually have any friends and right now, she doesn't have a job.
It's not like Daryl's explicitly sacked her, it's more that she's too chicken shit to go to the club and face him. So, no money to blow and no friends.
Wow. When did her life become so narrowed? It's like she met Daryl and she learned to love Merle and her whole life was sucked into them.
The club and her boys, the TV on a Saturday night. That's all she's become and she can't devote herself to Daryl if she doesn't even know the person she is.
What can she offer him without knowing herself? Beth crosses her arms to fight off the bitter cold.
A hot cocoa is what she needs and the only person she can think of to share a hot cocoa with isn't very far from here.
She smiles softly as she takes out her phone and scrolls midway to the 'M's, selecting her sisters name.
Maggie answers on the third ring. "Hey, Bethy."
"Hey," Beth smiles. "I got some real big news, you wanna meet up?"
"Actually yeah, I'm off today, but Glenn's not. Come over?"
Beth grins at Maggie's enthused greeting, throwing her arms around her sister. "Hey."
When she looks up, Maggie smiles and pulls away, eyes sparkling. "So what's this big news? Did… did Daryl propose?"
Beth's grin freezes; then breaks and all of a sudden she's sobbing.
"Hey," Maggie hushes, pulling her inside and shutting her apartment door. "What's happened, Bethy? You okay?"
Beth sniffles and straightens, wiping at her face with her coat sleeves. "I think me an' Daryl are over Mags."
Her older sister frowns and nods her head towards the open plan kitchen. "C'mon, let's talk."
Beth nods and follows her, shredding her coat and beanie hat over the arm of the sofa.
Her hands are frozen from not wearing gloves and they ache when after a minutes silence, Maggie slides her a cup of coffee to cradle.
Taking a seat at the bar opposite from Beth, she cradles her own coffee and smiles softly. "Wanna talk 'bout it?"
Beth snivels, feeling sorry for herself in her sister's company and curves over her coffee, staring at it as she talks. "A recruiter spoke to me, from a record label. Said he wants to sign me."
"What?" Maggie breathes in surprise. "Beth, that's amazin'! This is everythin' you've always wanted!"
"Yeah," Beth agrees, looking up with her eyes watering. "'Cept I hadn't met Daryl yet."
Maggie gives a sympathetic smile, her bottom lip curling into her teeth. "You guys broke up? 'Cause of this?"
Beth nods, blowing on her cup. "He tried to keep it a secret from me. We argued over it. He says he don't wanna lose me."
Maggie hums as she sips her drink. She only answers when she puts it down, turning it so it fits her palm. "He shouldn' have kept it from you, Bethy. He can't control you like that."
Beth frowns, hating the judgement in her sister's tone. "He wasn't, Maggie. He was just scared. I think he loves me."
"Do you love him?" Maggie asks softly. Beth covers her face with her hand as she cries, her sister's palm descending on her head to stroke it. "You do."
"Yes," Beth moans through a thick sob. "God, I don't know what to do. M'so lonely without him, Mags. I miss him so much."
"So talk to him," Maggie encourages. "Tell him how you feel."
"You don't understand," she pauses, swallowing away a sob. "The last time I saw him… felt like goodbye."
Maggie soothes her silently, stroking her hair. When Beth sits up, rubbing down her wet face once more, her sister is wearing a sassy smile.
Beth narrows her puffy eyes. "What?"
"Make him pay for it," she says quietly, hunching closer. "Don't call, don't text. Let him come to you. If he's really scared 'bout losin' you, Beth, he'll come to you."
Beth chews her lip, a tiny, egotistical part of her agreeing with this plan, wanting to see how much he gives a shit about losing her.
"I can't," she says, giving up the fantasy. "That's playin' games an' I don't wanna be immature 'bout it."
Maggie scowls, leaning back now and looking as gorgeous as she always does. "This ain't games, Beth. You wanna know if he truly gives a fuck? You drop off the face of the earth and see if he scours it for you."
Beth nods slowly, considering it again. Maggie has a point. Daryl knows where she stands; he knows that she still wants to be with him.
It was him that left her bed after fucking her delirious, him that kept secrets and then came begging at her door drunk. If she does this, then she knows where he stands too because the truth is, right now, she doesn't.
The weeks pass into each other like a hazy film over Beth's brain. She's swept up in recording studios and tours and gigs, fans she didn't know she had, an ache in her cheeks from all of the photos she's posed for, her phone blowing up with people in love with her music.
She's finally got home and just stopped, thinking about that conversation with Maggie about making Daryl pay.
The boyfriend that hasn't called her for three weeks. The boyfriend who hasn't text, who must have seen her gaining popularity and didn't comment on it.
The boyfriend who could be her ex-boyfriend. The boyfriend that she's about to see after so long of not seeing him, stood at his apartment door with her heart in her mouth.
Her hand literally shakes when she knocks, the sound so loud in her ears it's obscene. Merle already knows she's here since she rang the buzzer.
By this point, he's told Daryl and all she's praying for is Merle not to give some shitty excuse about Daryl being sick or some other bullshit excuse that means he can't come to the door.
The door swings open and before she can even open her mouth, Merle says, "he ain't here."
Beth blinks, taking him in. "Hey, Merle."
"How'y doin' scream'a? Hollywood treat you good, huh?"
She smiles. "Ain't made it there, yet."
"Only matter of time," he grunts.
Beth grins, throwing herself forward to hug him. He grunts again and awkwardly pats her shoulders. "Alrite, alrite, you only been gone couple weeks. You women, so dramatic. Ol' Merle ain't dead yet."
She rolls her eyes but secretly devotes her gratitude to Merle's unwavering ability to get out of an emotional situation.
Blinking away the moisture fighting to pool into her eyes, Beth clears her throat and folds her arms. "He really ain't here? You swear?"
Merle mimics her, folding his own arms over his chest. "Yep. He's down at the club. Been there for all the time you were gone, barely comes home."
She bites her lip, guilt eating her alive. "Is he okay?"
"Okay?" He laughs. "Nah. Pretendin' he is? Oh yeah, doin' it like a champ."
Beth winces. "I'm gonna find him."
She turns to leave when Merle calls her back, but not by her usual nickname. "Beth."
Her stomach drops like he aimed a gun at her. He's so damn serious when she looks at him that it makes her a little woozy. "Go easy on 'im, alrite? He cain't take much more."
She nods, swallowing. "Thanks for lookin' after him, Merle."
Merle scoffs, shaking off the serious face. "Gotta. He's my littl' broth'a. Stuck with 'im."
She smiles softly. "I know. You're a real saint, Merle Dixon."
He actually smiles.
One chapter left after this guys! Get ready to say goodbye!
Thump, thump, thump.
Beth's heartbeat is the only sound in her ears. She can see him.
Through the glass swinging doors to Dixon's, he's sitting at the bar with all the lights off, including the outside neon light that is his surname.
Her hands are shaking as she slides the key into the lock and turns it with a punctured click.
Daryl turns his head over his shoulder and his blue eyes take her breath away, shining through the dark.
De ja vu hits her, remembering the first time she saw him in the strip club, up on stage.
His eyes were all she needed to see to want him then and she still wants him with that breathless intensity now. It's dizzying but she doesn't falter under his burning gaze sweeping her.
She imagines she looks a little different since he last saw her. The biggest thing is her hair, which has grown longer in the weeks they haven't seen each other.
There's been plenty of offers to cut it, but she kept remembering Killian's words and she didn't want to, especially when he persistently told her it was the style of the season.
The other is probably her face. Without smiling, she knows she's glowing with pride. Mama used to always say that Beth was an open book and therefore couldn't hide her sadness and consequently her happiness neither and she is happy.
She's done well for herself in the last few weeks and she's on the first stepping stones of her career.
It's an exciting time, a once in a lifetime opportunity and she refuses to mope over it. Daryl however, looks awful.
His eyes are bruised like he hasn't slept and his hair is uncut, brushing his shoulders now.
When he turns his head away from her as she steps inside, she sees knots in the back of it.
It makes her feel terrible that she's carrying this glow of happiness inside her and yet he looks as if he should be tugging along a rainy cloud on a string.
Beth stops at the door, listening to it closing behind her. "Hey."
Daryl grunts and glances at her again, eyes heating the longer he stares and causing her stomach to clench. "You look beautiful."
Beth flushes, drawing closer. "Thank you. Can we talk?"
There's a hesitation and then, "yeah."
She clears her throat as she sits on the stool beside him, putting her back to the bar. "I missed you."
He sighs as he pours another glass of whisky. "Missed you too."
A smile twitches at her mouth. "M'sorry I ain't called."
Daryl squints. "You ain't mad I didn't?"
She shakes her head, holding his eyes. "I blew it way outta proportion, m'sorry I couldn't admit that."
He ducks his head. "Yeah, well I fucked up first, right?"
Beth gives him a sad smile. "A little. We both did."
"Why'd you come here, girl?" He doesn't ask it impatiently but rather with an exhausted tone, like he's been driving himself crazy waiting to see if she would come.
She laughs a little sarcastically, taking his glass. "I wasn't gonna," she pauses to swallow some whisky, wincing as it slides down her throat. "Was gonna wait for you, to prove how much you love me."
There's a jerk to his frame at the L word. "So how come ya here?" He asks, voice shaking.
"'Cause I realised how stupid that was. 'Cause the fact that you didn't call was the reason you loved me."
His cheeks are bright red and it makes her stomach flutter with butterflies. "How'd you reckon?"
She reaches her hand over to his face, stroking his cheek. "Daryl I asked you to give me my career an' you did. You gave me exactly what I asked for even though it hurt you so bad."
"Maybe I was jus' gettin' 'rid of you," he grunts, taking the last gulp of his drink and pulling his cheek away from her cold fingers.
Beth can't pretend: that hurts. She winces and stands, trying to keep the strength in her step as her heels clack on the worn floor of the club.
How can she just sit there when he so blatantly dismissed her? It's been weeks and clearly he's gotten over her.
She's too late.
Daryl doesn't turn to watch her as she moves towards the door. Her hand shakes as she reaches for the handle, her stomach rolling.
He's gonna let her go. What an idiot she was, walking in here telling him how he feels and shoving it in his face that she left and now she really has-
Her thoughts snap back like a rubber band pulled too tight and she turns to look at Daryl who's also turned in his seat to look at her.
"You walk an' don't come back."
Her throat closes on itself in horror. "You're makin' me walk," she almost whines.
"You walked first," he growls, climbing to his feet. "You chose money over me."
"S'not 'bout the money! It's my passion!" She fumes, stepping forward on an angry, heavy foot.
"You had a job here for the rest of your life! With me!" His voice cracks and Beth feels her heart give.
"It wasn't enough!" She admits in a horrible screech. "The club and the TV and the rest of my life eatin' Cheetos wasn't gonna cut it, Daryl!"
"But bein' famous is? Who the fuck are you?"
"The same girl you feel in love with!" She exclaims, bursting forward into his face. "The same girl you're in love with!" He baulks and her next words are practically a hiss, "tell me right here an' now that you don't fuckin' love me Daryl Dixon and I'll leave! I'll walk an' I'll never come back!"
God, her chest is heaving, her throat sore from all the screaming. They've never fought like this and her head is pounding at the threat she's just laid out on the table, at the ultimatum she's just delivered.
Daryl's chest is heaving too and all she feels is want. Hot, feral need sharp shooting through her veins. Fuck, she misses him. She wants him, needs him.
Please don't let me go, she pleads with her wide eyes. Please, I love you. God, I love you.
There's a sudden eruption of motion and Daryl's claiming her mouth, slamming her against the glass front doors, hands all over her body and mouth breaking from hers to dip to her neck.
"I love you, girl. I fuckin' love you too damn much."
Beth has never met someone who makes her want to explode.
Daryl does. Explode into a thousand glittering shards of dangerous glass, shooting through the air until they embed themselves into the walls with twangs of satisfaction.
His skin on her body can make her warm in even the coldest of winters as fire burns through her stomach and down her legs, between them.
He's managed to push up her leather jacket and t-shirt, his big hot palm on her quivering belly, his coarse fingertips reaching up to tease at the edge of her plain black bra, digging underneath to the soft breasts the cups hide.
God, he could drive her to the edge of sanity by not really touching her at all. It's just not fair. Everywhere he touches sparks sensation, not one place on her body immune to the power of his bare skin.
Even her fucking elbow makes her gasp when it nudges into him. She's a hot mess and Daryl must be feeling the heat too because he's tugging at her jacket, fighting with it down the length of her arms.
"Daryl," she gasps. "We're right in front of the glass."
He only hums into her throat, where his lips have settled after detaching from her mouth. She's gasping, helping him even as she argues their lack of coverage, her hips straining up into his.
"We gotta stop," he gasps, but stopping doesn't seem to be an option.
Beth snatches his head up and crashes their lips together, moaning into his open mouth when he dips his tongue in and tastes every inch of her he can. "Let's go home, c'mon," she groans.
"Yeah," he murmurs, pulling away again, nodding before growling with lust blown eyes. "But I can't keep my hands off'a you."
She shrieks as he picks her up, her heavy leather jacket slapping against the floor as her legs wind around his waist.
He swings her towards the bar, shoving her ass on the edge and bending his head to the hollow at her throat, biting and licking her skin.
Her eyes roll into the back of her skull as her arms stretch back, gripping the bar for support.
The world could be falling apart and she doesn't think she could convince him to stop.
The roof could lift, the doors could tear off their hinges and every fucking window around could shatter because she doesn't give one flying fuck.
Her ass slides down as her head falls back, her parted thighs colliding with Daryl's straining zipper.
He hisses and when he grabs her waist and throws her over in the air, Beth can't even scream she's so breathless.
Her hands slam into the bar, her head flying up and looking into the mirror over it, finding herself bent over the hard wood and Daryl like a looming wolf in the shadows, his back highlighted by the street light outside the glass doors.
Her jeans loosen and threaten to fall off her hips but Beth throws her hand back to latch onto Daryl's wrist, trying to slow his eager hand.
"Anyone could see us," she breathes, chest heaving. "We need to go home. Please, I missed you so bad. Please."
His head drops between her shoulder blades, the wrist she's squeezing tight moving so his hand rests on the swell of her ass inside her jeans, flush against her panties.
Beth heaves in gasping breaths, trying to make the room stay still again but at a complete loss as to how.
Just a minute, that’s all she needs and then they'll get up, get in the car and go home to fuck like rabbits.
Except she forgot how damn eager Daryl is and at the exact same time he whispers, "I can't wait," he pushes aside her panties and buries his thick fingers inside her.
Beth screams, going up on her toes and scrabbling at the bar. "Fuck! Daryl!"
"Yes!" He hisses and she likes it so damn much she screams his name again. "Shit, Beth, fuck!"
His hand is gonna fall off after this because the ferocious speed he puts into fingering her over the bar makes Beth's cunt clamp down and her body shake like she's having an epileptic fit.
She cums there and then, drenching his hand and splashing something wet and thick against the bar stool behind them when Daryl stands to the side.
His hand is soaking wet when he slaps her ass and she jolts over the bar an inch, a scream trapped in her throat.
His hands haul her back and hastily pull up her jeans and panties before he presses a rough, spine-tingling kiss on her hair and then growls into her ear, "get your stuff. We're goin'."
"Where?" She asks stupidly as she wobbly steps towards her discarded jacket.
Daryl rearranges himself in his pants with a wince as he snaps keys into his palm with his other hand. "Your place. S'closer an' I'm gonna bust a fuckin' nut if I smell your cunt on my fingers without summin' to distract me. Fuck."
The last word is brutal, churned between his teeth and spat out, his eyes closing as his fingers raise to his lips and lick. She melts.
Blue eyes fly open scary and hard, bright as diamonds and the growl that tears from his chest actually makes her jump.
"Get in the fuckin' car, now."
She has no idea how they make it home. How they even survived.
Daryl drove like his life depended on it, hurtling down country lanes and back roads to avoid the main swell of traffic, her hand in his pants pumping at his cock and teasing the head with her thumb until he shoved his hips into her fist and hoarsely scraped out, "stop, stop, stop. You gotta fuckin' stop."
There isn't a thing he's ever said before that could top how sexy the desperation in his voice was, the strain in his hips as he simultaneously sought her touch and recoiled from it to fight his own steam lining orgasm.
Her panties are fucking ruined and by the time the truck wheels screech into her apartment complex car park, Beth is actually dizzy with arousal.
There are gates around the whole complex so it's not like just anyone can get in, but Beth still protests when Daryl doesn't lock up behind him and instead grips her arm and steers her at a brisk march to the front doors.
Excitement pounds heavy and intoxicating in her system, burning like whiskey in her stomach.
They trip over each other at her front door where she scrambles to get the right key, his big, hot body looming behind her, mouth descending to her neck the minute they fall over the threshold, her own hands tearing her jacket down her arms.
Daryl's hands grip at her t-shirt and nearly tears it with the haste he uses to get it off her body. Oh, God. Calm down. Breathe. Fuck, shit. Jesus. Calm down.
She's so lost in this gorgeous man she's tripping all over the place: her coffee table, the edge of the sofa and her own laces until they end up sprawled over the back of the sofa, where she tripped and he tried to save her, the rim digging sharp and unforgiving into her hip.
A moan spills between her lips and she presses her ass back, grinding it against Daryl's raging cock.
He grunts into her ear, his hands on her waist and turning her. "Stand there."
She watches in dazed confusion as he walks the perimeter of the sofa and sits down like he's just gonna switch the TV on.
Confusion mixes in with the cocktail of raging hormones she's drowning in until he tips his head back and barks, "get it all off. Get on my face."
Beth's knees give out and she wobbles, her hand resting on the sofa loosely as she keeps herself up. Jesus Christ.
Her fingers are shaky and unsteady as she tugs at her jean button and zipper, shimming them down her legs as well as her shoes, turning so her ass is to the back of Daryl's head.
She's a little distracted by the state of her apartment. She got back late last night and dumped everything she had on her.
It's been weeks since she cleaned and she mentally vows to go in on the cobwebs clustering the corners of her open plan living/kitchen area tomorrow.
Only if she can keep her hands off Daryl, that is. Pulling her attention back to the present, she swallows as the cold apartment licks at her bare legs and pussy, shivering lightly.
It's almost too much cold but her heart is racing and her blood pumping thick and fast, so she's managing.
"Daryl, how'd I do this?" Beth asks as she props both hands on the edge like she's gonna hoist herself up. Lifting her ass, she gets ready to jump, saying, "don't lemme f-"
The words cut off in a scream as Daryl's arms raise, his hands gripping her hips from behind and lifting her, first up and then back so her pussy settles right over his face.
Beth gasps, spreading her legs to make room for her hands on the rim either side of his head, gripping on in such a way she has to keep a conscious effort and hunch her back.
Vibrations against her cunt make her moan and it tangles with Daryl's, her neck flopping back at the orchestra their pleasured gasps make together.
The air already smells like sex and all he's done is slick her panties to the side, allowing her swollen pussy lips to release the scent of her cum into the air.
She can taste it on her tongue and it's so damn erotic she agitatedly twirls her hips, the movement forcing her lower lips to glide over Daryl's.
A choked gasp wrangles out of her throat, her nails digging into the fabric sofa.
Daryl doesn't answer in words, instead using actions. His hands squeeze her ass cheeks from behind, his lips nuzzling aside her panties, tongue poking out to press between her swollen pussy lips.
Beth gasps, head falling and hanging between her shoulders as her belly jumps with pleasure. She's so damn close already.
How the hell does he do this to her? Both of her legs spasm over the edge of the sofa as she bites down on her lower lip, lost in his mouth working between her legs, slow and luxurious, lapping at her juices.
With him, she grinds her hips, eyes squeezed shut as she loses herself in him and the dirty things he mumbles against the apex of her thighs, his hands and fingers so eager on her ass cheeks, squeezing like he can't get enough.
"Taste so fuckin' good, Beth," he grumbles from down low, the words a little distorted by her cunt smothering him.
Beth bites down on her lip even harder, her eyes opening to look down at him. All she can see if the top of his head, eyes and nose because he's so damn eager his whole mouth is working her up, alternating between lips sucking on her clit and tongue riding her slit so he can fuck into her cunt.
She lets loose a sound that has an edge of disappointment because he's lost the orgasm he was helping her rush to. Maybe they should slow down.
They have all night and hopefully a lot more time after that, if he'll forgive her for being such an ass and take her back.
God, she's missed him so damn much and sitting here on his face, his mouth worshipping between her legs makes her eyes bead with tears.
It's been so long and it's overwhelming, drawing her in until it's right there.
"Daryl," she breathes. "Shit."
Orgasm number two teases her pussy walls and they flex in warning around his tongue.
His hands clench tight on her thighs, leaving her ass now and his fingers digging into her flesh so fucking hard it's exactly what tips her over the edge.
The tightrope of pleasure and pain is something so uniquely amazing and devastating that Beth actually pitches forward, rocketing off of Daryl's face before she fully experiences the whole thing.
Her cunt screams with outrage at the cut off of sensation and tears bead in her eyes again as she stands on trembling knees, chest gallivanting.
Her eyesight isn't quite with her either and Daryl is a dark blur as he tears down his own pants and frees his cock, hand brutal and tight around the base of his thick shaft like he's already starving off an orgasm.
Could be true, since she worked him with her hand the whole way home.
"Come on girl, come finish what you fuckin' started."
Beth's not sure she can actually move or if she wants to, for that matter. The view is so good from here, her eyes taking in his quivering belly and his bulging biceps, but she can't see his face and this bothers her so she stumbles around the sofa and climbs onto his lap.
Really there's nothing for her to do because Daryl's doing it all for her. His hands snatch her up and hover her over his dick.
She licks her lips, her eyes focusing a little more as she straddles him. Just the head of him makes a shiver roll down her spine and she knows she won't be able to cum again.
She's so far past the point of sensitive it's a joke. There is such a thing as too much sensation and she knows Daryl understands when she winces lowering down on him.
"You okay?" He whispers. "You wanna stop?"
She lies her head into the crook of his neck and slowly pumps her hips as he pumps his. "No, this is good," she whispers.
It is good.
Warm, tingling, drowsy good and she's lulling in it, her head lolling on his shoulder as he cups the back of her neck and the curve of her spine, gliding in and out of her like her cunt was made to fit his cock.
"You fallin' sleep on me girl? S'it time for me to finally say m'too shit old for this?"
She giggles and it makes him tense, flex and pause before he glides a little deeper, hitting something that makes her eyes bead and a gasp to get strangled in her throat, catching her inner thighs, the pain so tender it becomes something else entirely.
"S'real damn good Daryl, my body can't take it," she murmurs honestly, curling into his chest.
He hums, sliding his fingers through her hair with the same patient slowness as he slides in and out of her. "You're tired though. Ain't surprised. Could barely keep up with ya."
This makes her frown and she pauses a second to lean back and show her confusion. "What'du mean?"
A flush paints his cheeks but bizarrely it's not because he's balls deep inside her. "I been comin', Beth. To every show."
This revelation takes a minute. It's not like it wasn't her who always sent him and Merle tickets but she was always told they weren't used.
"But… the tickets, you never…" she trails off because he's still slowly pumping into her and it's maddening trying to speak.
He groans, eyes closing and head tipping back, body flexing as he fucks a little harder. "Bought my own. Merle come to."
"Why didn't you… ah… ever tell me?" She pants, balancing her hands on his chest.
A growl rumbles beneath her hands and she feels the urgency in his thrusts with such excitement she nearly passes out.
"Didn't want you to know. Wanted you to have… Christ… what you wanted."
Beth gasps and bounces hard on his cock until he curses and forgets about speaking, slamming up into her now and using her cunt like his own personal sex toy.
Nothing turns her on more and she has a steady stream of startled cries lined up every time he presses deep and then swirls his hips just to be cruel.
Just when she thinks he's gonna cum, the sweat riding his forehead and cheekbone, he opens his eyes and pins her with fiery blue. "I made this damn scrapbook. Every show. I've been with you the whole way, girl."
Tears more than bead in her eyes, they threaten to actually spill and all she can say in an achy, throat tightened voice is, "I love you."
It's so fierce and certain, no room for argument and it could be the end for the man she's fell head over heels for because he throws his hips up, head back and roars, hips slamming into her but then he squeezes his eyes closed and stops.
Daryl swallows and wraps his hands around her hips, pulling her in closer and pressing at an angle that takes her breath away. "Don't want it to end."
She frowns, settling back and leaning to catch his gaze. "This ain't the end, right?"
He laughs under his breath, reaching up to smooth the frown out of her brow, his hips stopping and cock resting inside her. "What you think I am? The type for goodbye sex? I don't wanna cum this quick but your pussy keeps clutchin' an' I ain't gonna hold."
Beth blushes, like this is the first time he's ever said something filthy to her. "Oh."
Daryl rolls his eyes, his fingers riding her sides and ribs, leaving her mouth slightly gaped in anticipation as his fingers reach her bra strap and work together to undo it.
The fabric squeezes tighter for a beat before it releases, falling down her arms and getting trapped between hers and Daryl's chest.
Her nipples are hard the instant he pulls back to take the bra away and he hums at the sight at them, fingertips rough with callouses as they pluck and stroke.
Beth's throat tightens as the sharp pleasure runs the length of her body and pools into her cunt, squeezing Daryl where he's buried.
He groans and leisurely pumps his hips until Beth groans back at him, his fingers still rolling her nipples while she gets more balance on her knees and starts to ride him.
The pace is gentle but breathtakingly deep and she can barely make any sounds at all.
That is, until he strokes something so goddamn beautiful just behind her clit that she bursts out with, "don't stop, please!"
Daryl growls and grabs her thighs, flipping her as she turns so her ass lands in the seat of the sofa and he's looming over her, his one hand braced on the back of it and his free one holding her hip, tilting them up as he plunges deep in her pussy, her hips crying out in delicious agony.
Beth lets her head hang loose and her jaw too, her mouth open as she moans in an unbroken reel, her own hand reaching down to rub at her clit.
It's a fucking mess down there and when Daryl's cock nudges into her fingers she just loses it, her hands flying up to dig her nails into his shoulders.
He makes a sound like nothing he's ever made before, going still over her and she can actually feel his dick swelling with cum for a nano second before he spills deep inside her, head curving into her neck.
Beth rubs the last of her orgasm out, lifting her legs high and wrapping them around his hips with a satisfied sigh.
They bask in it for a moment and Beth doesn't wanna ruin it but she can't help but ask, "what now?"
Sex won't answer all those things they need to talk about but Daryl knows that, she shouldn't underestimate him because he answers into the curve of her neck, "ain't got a clue. What I do know?” He cuddles her close, lips to her forehead. "We'll work it out, together."
Beth smiles and curls tight around him. "Let's do something tonight."
He pulls away to look at her, fingers stroking through her hair. "You wanna go out?"
She grins, an idea striking. "Let's go back to the club. Tonight, I just wanna dance with you."
Daryl laughs, a deep throaty one that makes her cheeks hurt with the smile pulling at them. "Only if you dance just for me when we get home."
Beth flexes her legs around his waist. "I'll even play our song."
I can’t actually believe this is the last chapter for TIWDFY. All I can say is thank you, thank you, thank you. Every comment, favourite, follow, kudos, bookmark and review is the reason I wrote this thing at all, let alone kept going. You guys are fucking amazing. Oh and thank you wallflow3r for being this fics biggest fan ❤️