The conversation ground to an abrupt halt as Michonne strolled into the kitchen where the five were seated.
"Hey guys," she greeted casually, opening the fridge to rummage through the crisper for one of the fresh cucumbers from the Kingdom. A sharp inhale came from Rick on her left.
"Oh, please go on. Don't mind me," she threw over her shoulder distractedly as she bent in two, seemingly searching in vain for the vegetable.
"Michonne..." Rick's disbelief was warring with the confusion on his face and visible tension in his frame.
"What?" She straightened, eyes scrunched in incomprehension. A quick glance around the table revealed reactions of various degrees. Maggie smirked in appreciation and gave her a wink; Daryl nibbled on his thumb, glancing warily between her and Rick; Jesus kept his face averted, but Michonne could see a faint smile and Ezekiel...
"You, my fair maiden, are as bounteous with your charms as with your intellect." He hastily wiped his wide smile after Rick's icy scowl in his direction, adding, "With all due respect, of course."
"Can I talk to you a second?" Rick didn't even wait to get a response. He grabbed her by the upper arm and practically dragged her upstairs, vaguely registering the sound of scraping chairs and muted goodbyes. In their room, he barely waited until the door was closed. "What the fuck?"
Arms folded, she simply regarded him coolly while he spluttered in indignation. He paced and ran his hand through his hair agitatedly. "If this is because of what we talked about last night..."
"No, you ordered. We didn't talk," Michonne interrupted.
Rick sighed and pinched his nose. "Michonne..."
"Don't 'Michonne' me. You decided, Rick. You wouldn't even let me get in a word." She shrugged. "And I decided that I should get a say."
It wasn't as if she wanted to go on the frontlines, dammit, not yet anyway. In the six weeks since Sasha's death, she had been slowly healing thanks to Rosita applying her limited medical training in the form hasty stitches to stave off the worst bleeding. Problem was Rick had wrapped her in gotten overprotective and kept her out of the planning to mount a final battle against Negan. She'd agreed with him that she was best served in Alexandria, minding Judith and helping the community function with its daily requirements. For now, anyway. But Rick's authoritarian ruling was grating on her nerves. At first his concern was heartwarming. He'd told her in the infirmary that he was wrong about what he said in the van: he couldn't live without her and he would do anything to ensure her safety. Anything.
Unfortunately, "anything" also meant no sex. She understood initially. The first few days hurt worse than anything else she'd ever experienced in her life and when they'd tried to make love two weeks later, Rick accidentally hurt one wound that was still sore. But last week when she hinted that she was ready for more, he ran away. Literally bolted out of the room, claiming that she needed her rest. Well, fuck that noise, because the only rest she needed now was the satiated bliss after a few, heart-pounding orgasms.
"So that's what this is about?" He nodded at her dress. "You tryin' to get my attention? Other men's attention?"
"Why, did it work?" She asked innocently. His subsequent head tilt and squinted eyes sent a thrill through her body. Despite his annoyance, she noticed he couldn't help raking her body over, setting her heart racing. He definitely could not have missed this dress by a longshot. Not only did the red-strapped garment contrast beautifully against her lovely skin, but the slight flare that ended at mid-thigh invited further exploration. His gaze lingered there, making her shiver and close her eyes briefly as she imagined his hands caressing her skin, drifting higher until he swiped his fingers into her wet centre. The flush on his neck and heavy breathing betrayed his arousal and she would have stepped to him, lifting her arms around his neck to nestle in the curls there, when he moved back sharply and went over to the window.
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He should leave the room. Go downstairs and do a patrol jog around the neighbourhood to distract himself. Hell, go outside and kill a few walkers to get rid of this bloodlust in his system. Because if he stayed here...
Hands on his hips, Rick breathed deeply and tried to focus his thoughts. But his memory all too happily pictured the woman behind him in various stages of lovemaking; her expressions when he licked her sex just the way she loved it; her coquettish glances that drove him wild and would keep him hard long after leaving her; her obvious delight at sucking him off, taking him deep into her wet, juicy mouth until he lost his senses. Fuck, Grimes, not helping. He rubbed his forehead in frustration. His throbbing hard-on vehemently insisted that he take everything she was offering willingly and fuck her into submission, while his mind reluctantly recalled why he was leaving her alone in the first place. Remember, she's still hurt, still recovering. You need to keep your distance so she heals faster.
He was no fool. He understood that Michonne wasn't only protesting his decision to leave her out of the plot against Negan, but she was making it clear in her own way that she was ready for them to be intimate again. Her ploy was a way to force his hand. Trouble was, he didn't think he could control himself. He didn't think slow and gentle was in his repertoire right now, not the way he violently bucked into his hand in sheer desperation in the shower last night. And he had made a promise to himself, as she laid in the infirmary, that he would do everything in his power to see her healed and free from pain. He didn't think he would ever forget how battered he and Carl had found her after driving off the Saviors. It haunted him at nights, right up there with Glenn and Abraham's deaths; felt like he was responsible for tempting fate like that. He'd arrogantly stated that he could live without her. Idiot! Didn't he learn his lesson that morning in bed when he boasted the world was theirs for the taking? He just wasn't prepared to take chances with Michonne's wellbeing, not physically and sure as hell not emotionally. She needed all the time to rest and recover before getting back to the dirty business of all out war, not preparing for Negan's death.
And that also meant she needed to be fully recovered before their more pleasurable leisure activities could begin
If that meant denying the sex he'd come to consider breathed life into his soul, so be it. Truth be told, it was getting a little hard not having Michonne by his side, literally in this case, as they edged closer to all out war with Negan. Who was he kidding? It was torture, but he was willing to sacrifice the mental and physical torment to ensure the vision he had in mind when he'd practically asked her to marry him. He wanted a long future, reordering the world with the best woman he'd ever known in his life right by his side – hell, even leading them all. For that to happen, she had to stay safe.
"Rick, please." The pleading note in her voice paused his racing thoughts. "I'm asking you to trust me. "
Turning around, he took in her wide eyes and frustration. "I trust you more than I trust myself, Michonne. It's this world. This world takes from us everyday and I can't…" he faltered momentarily at the crack of emotion in his voice, "I won't let it take you from me."
She knew how much this man loved her, even if he didn't say the actual words, and she knew he carried the responsibility for her safety and others from not just one, but three communities. But this was them, dammit, and he was hers too, and she would tear apart this world herself if it came between them. She had been done taking breaks for a long time, but that day with the Savior woman, she realised if they were going to be taking down Negan, it had to be them together, as always, supporting each other, loving each other. She had to be there with him every step of the way.
Tears sprang to her eyes at the unfair burden placed on them. "I'm with you. I'll never stop being with you, but you have to let me decide for me and my family." She understood his position, but he had to respect her needs as a lifelong equal partner in love and battle.
Rick sighed, slightly irritated by the fact that this woman would always get under his skin and he would probably always acquiesce to her desires. As usual, he acknowledged wryly.
Michonne could see by the way he relaxed his frame that he accepted what needed to be done. "Fine. Tonight was only the first part of planning anyway. When we reconvene, you're there." He shook his head, admitting to himself that he would always be one step behind his woman when she set her mind to something. "But I still want you here in Alexandria when we go after him."
"Deal." He was likely more concerned about her health and stamina than she was. She felt fine, but her primary motive was more selfish - spending as much time with Carl and Judith before the inevitable battle separated them for days or weeks at a time.
'We'll tell the others tomorrow. Get some more rest tonight." As he said it, his slow pace covered the short distance between them and every footstep that brought him closer caused Michonne's breath to hitch.
"Rick, I need..."
"I know." The soft kiss on her shoulder sent a tremor through her body, instantly hardening her nipples and involuntarily arching her chest. Her fingers trailed around his neck for support, treading into the curls she never tired of. He trailed kisses along her neck, his fingers sliding down her back eventually tightening on her ass. Her gasp went straight to his cock, and he pushed back for a moment for control, willing himself to think and speak clearly. "I don't want to hurt you."
She massaged his head, staring into his eyes lovingly. "You won't. I need this. We need this."
"I don't think I can be gentle."
Her teeth nipped her lush lip as she leaned forward and whispered loudly, "I don't want you to be." It was like lighting a fuse on a bomb. He stared at her hungrily, while her skin tingled almost painfully in anticipation of his next move. He nodded distractedly, glancing down at her dress, obviously trying to figure out how to get her out of it. She was just about to tell him that the zip was at the side when he took matters into his own hands...
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She shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have waved a red flag in front of him like that. Rick had no control over the tide of desire that washed over him. The Rick Grimes before the Turn would have protested more. The Rick Grimes of now followed his instincts and trusted his gut in reading the situation; if Michonne said she could handle him, she would get all of him, plain and simple. God knows he had more than enough pent up loving to give to her.
Mouth watering, he yanked the straps down and ripped open the front of the dress, ignoring her shock. "You want rough? I can give it to you baby." He greedily latched on to her beautiful breasts, rolling around the pebbled nipples and enjoying her panted breaths of pleasure. Her skin was always so soft and inviting. It sucked in him even deeper, made him lose all semblance of control. She hissed in delight as his calloused hands and fingers rubbed and squeezed impatiently, whipping them both into a fiery frenzy that had Michonne bending backwards to accommodate their passion.
He pulled away from her breasts loudly with a groan, taking her mouth the way he wanted to fuck her, deep and hard. She kept up with him all the way, moaning as he massaged her ass under the dress. Michonne could feel his hot length searing into her through the layers of their clothing and wantonly rubbed her mound all over him.
Impatiently, he pulled the scanty undergarment aside to dive two of his fingers into her wetness. Shit, she was so responsive. One leg quickly slipped around his waist to give him more space to move. Her sex was practically soaking his fingers so much that he zoned out for a few seconds imagining that wet tightness around his cock. "Fuck, Michonne." She was juicing all over his fingers, grinding on them with a fierceness he'd never seen from her before. "Ride it, baby, ride it how you want it." His eyes captured the scene to add to his photographic collection of their lovemaking – Michonne, head thrown back, face full of desire and excitement, grinding around his fingers in her pussy. Jesus, he was so far gone he could come in his pants just from her pleasure alone.
"Rick, Rick, Rick..." she chanted mindlessly. Thank God the children were at Gabriel's for the night, but even so Michonne didn't care who could hear her right now. This, this was what she needed so badly, to feel alive, to feel like she was flying, to feel Rick Grimes underneath her, above her, on her, inside her.
He stopped abruptly, drawing a whiny sound of displeasure in his wake. Pulling off the dress and the panties forcibly, he got on his knees, threw a leg over his shoulder and held on firmly to her ass to keep her balanced. The hard, unrelenting broad swipe of his tongue on her clit brought her so close to the edge she screamed again as her fingers helplessly pulled his hair. "God yes!" A few strokes more and she was rubbing her mound shamelessly in his mouth, arching the foot on the ground to gain more height as she held his head tightly in place and fucked his mouth just how she wanted it. She rolled her hips in time to his wicked tongue, which penetrated her hole and left her squirming mercilessly.
The involuntarily sighs and shrieks coming from Michonne left him almost as breathless as the taste of her sweet pussy. He knew from her frenzied movements that it wouldn't be much longer until she reached her climax, and he couldn't wait to drink from her well. "Oh shit!" She screamed as her juices spilled into his eager mouth. He drew out the strokes to lazily swipes as she bonelessly slumped against his body. "I missed that," she said dreamily, moving her leg off his shoulder. Their languid kiss was salty-sweet from the remnants of her climax. Rick couldn't get enough of it, delving deep into her mouth and rousing her passions again.
Michonne grabbed the lapels of his shirt and popped the buttons off to reveal his toned chest, grinning cheekily into his mouth. "My turn." She had always appreciated the way Rick looked at her. Even from the prison, a look from Rick Grimes was never meaningless, and even then, he'd been more prone to eyeing her ass, she mused fondly. She took advantage of it too now they were a couple. Putting in an extra sway here, bending over unnecessarily provocatively there. The heated stares made her revel in her sexiness, the way he looked at her with pure love often took her breath away, making her grin like a goofball who soaked up the attention he poured on her. And she especially loved how he watched her when they made love, whether it was slow and tender, or fast and noisy. Now was no different. She traced the muscles on his arm and chest and prepared to follow his happy trail, want nothing more than to take him in her mouth and swallow his essence.
Rick had other ideas though. For one, if she got her hands on him, he'd be done faster than he cared to. Besides, there was that little matter of dealing with her behaviour earlier. He grabbed her hands. "Not so fast."
She blinked in confusion as he pulled off her hairband, mouth opening wider as he wrapped and knotted it around her wrists.
"We need to clear up a few thangs. Get on the bed."
"Rick..." Michonne's breath hitched at this new intensity coming off him.
"Get. On. The. Bed." He stared her down, until she sat hesitantly. He shrugged off the damaged shirt, approaching her while taking off his gun belt. Her eyes involuntarily dropped to his hard cock which was straining against the pair of well worn-out jeans. She licked her lips in anticipation, legs fluttering helplessly as he got closer.
"Please, baby." She purred as he pulled off the boxers. When he made no other move, Michonne's bound hands rubbed against each other, inching ever closer to her still wet pussy.
"No. Lie down and put your hands over your head." She obeyed, deliberately stretching her torso and arching her back higher than it needed to be. The momentary pause and warning stare told her not to push her luck with him.
"Open your legs. Wider than that." She'd once told him in a moment of weakness what that demanding tone did to her, and the groan that escaped her now had everything to do with being bound, helpless, and spreadeagled in front of a steely-eyed Rick Grimes.
Fuck. She could tell he still felt some kind of way about her stunt but damn, if this was going to end the way she thought it was, she was far from apologetic.