Passion

by: FrankieLouWho

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to TWD! I love it though :]

Author's Notes: For your reading pleasure, a little continuation from the previous chapter. Apologies for the long wait! Hope it was worth it :]

Shower: noun: 1) a brief and usually light fall of rain, hail, sleet, or snow. 2) an enclosure in which a person stands under a spray of water to wash. verb: (of a mass of small things) fall or be thrown in a shower. 2) wash oneself in a shower.

Beth Greene stood in the shower, under the cold spray, for much longer than she should have. She never realized that sex would make a person so sore, in places that she had never expected. It felt almost like her body had been run over by a truck. Between her legs, the dull ache was a constant reminder. But her other muscles - the ones in her upper arms and shoulders, her lower back too, as well as her thighs - burned from the exertion. Maggie had taken one look at her that morning, and snatched the baby out of her arms.

"If you're sick, you need to go lie down," Maggie had said forcefully. "Shouldn't be takin' Judith if you ain't feeling well."

Beth had gone along with it. Easier than arguing or explain why she looked like crap. In the movies, women were usually glowing the next morning when they woke up. Beth felt closer to her death bed than anything.

For the hundredth time, she wished the water was warm. But it was still soothing, beating down on her scalp and neck. She'd already washed her hair twice and soaped the rest of her body, standing under the spray until the water ran clear and her teeth were about to chatter. With a sigh, she reached and turned the handle, shutting off the shower, and stepped into the tiled room. They'd hung curtains for privacy, but Beth was alone for the time being. She wrapped a fluffy towel around her body and grabbed her brush from the bag of toiletries she had collected over the year. She sat on one of the benches that dotted the room, humming quietly as she worked the brush through her thick, tangled hair.

She was still in shock about what she'd done last night. Sneaking into Daryl's cell had been a fantasy, one she came up with and often revisited when she was bored. Throwing herself at him, at his mercy, had been stupid. She was lucky that it had worked out in the end, that she hadn't ordered her away with any real sincerity. Instead, he'd let her have her way with him, and the results were explosive. For both of them.

Beth had been so distracted with her thoughts that she hadn't noticed him come in. It wasn't until she felt a hand on her own, the one brushing her hair, that she flinched in surprise. Whipping her head around, she found blue-velvet eyes gazing down at her. There was intensity there that wasn't present before last night, and it sucked the breath out of her chest with the ferocity there.

"Lemme," he said quietly. She nodded, inable to speak, and he slipped the brush from her loose grab. Beth turned to face away from him, sitting straight as a board, her spine tense. The shower head dripped quietly, and other than the brush snagging through her knots, it was silent. Beth was surprised that he was brushing her hair so nicely - starting at the ends and working his way up. His touch was gentle, and Beth felt herself relax in the repetitive lull. It was almost hypnotic.

"'m sorry, if I was too rough on ya last night." Daryl's words were hard to hear, they were spoken so softly. Beth almost couldn't believe she was hearing him apologize. Turning in her seat, she gazed up at him.

"No - not at all. No need to apologize," she said quickly.

"Ya sister said you's sick," he said, furrowing his brow in confusion. "I thought maybe -"

"I'm sore," Beth explained. "She said I looked like I was getting sick when I came down this morning - but I'm fine. Really, Daryl."

His wide shoulders sagged with relief, and Beth smiled. It seemed the more time she spent around him, the easier it was to read his reactions. It felt like each shrug, sigh, quirk of his lips or eyebrows, was a specific response. They just needed to be decoded.

"Good," he said finally. One hand slid over her damp, smooth locks, and he smiled at her.

"I liked it," Beth admitted in a small voice. "I liked it a lot." His hand suddenly gripped the length of her hair, wrapping it around his fist. He pulled gently and tipped her head back, and Beth gasped in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. The sensation on her scalp was delicious and confusing. She wet her parted lips, gazing up at him, and heard the soft, rumbling growl leave his throat. She wanted to tell him more - that she loved it, loved the thrill of his hands sliding over her body, the way he tossed her around and used her body towards the end. When he slapped her bottom, making her cry out in a similar fashion as when he pulled her hair, she felt the aftershocks in her pussy. Making her clench at his hard length again.

"You don't know what you do to me," Daryl whispered, and Beth was shocked at the statement. The raw honesty made her heart clench, but the fiery look on his face only made heat fan over her body. She whimpered softly, and that seemed to be his undoing. Quickly, he hauled her up into his arms, spinning her around with his fist still tangled in her damp locks, and kissed her. Hard, hot, and wet. Beth's tongue wasn't shy as they collided, and her barely-covered body was pressed flush against his front.

"Daryl," she mewed, breaking apart to catch her breath. His chest was heaving as well, and he yanked the towel away from her body, letting it drop to the slick tiles. Beth couldn't even blush at her nudity - they were passed that now. Instead, one of her hands held the back of his neck, her nails lightly biting into his skin and the other fisted in his leather vest. He glanced down between them, gazing at her breasts pressed against his clothed chest. Beth shivered at the contact, the pressure on her nipples was delicious. She looked up into his face, waiting for his reaction.

"Touch 'em," he said. Beth blinked, face blank. He let go of her, stepping back. He sat himself on the bench opposite of the one that Beth had been sitting on. He shrugged off his leather jacket and waited.

"Touch what?" Beth asked. The grin on his face could only be described as devious, evil - and pure lust. His heavily lidded eyes were focused on her, and Beth tried to understand what he meant.

"Touch your breasts," Daryl commanded. There was something in his tone, a dangerous yet tender edge that made her comply. She did it - but with red cheeks and fumbling, awkward hands. How was she supposed to know what to do? Tentatively, her small hands cupped her small breasts. "Act like I'm not here, now. Act like ya by yourself."

What?! Alarm bells sounded in her mind, but Beth was inable to defy his commands. It was like she was hypnotized, powerless against his words. He wanted her to act like she was masturbating. He wanted to watch.

Beth closed her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. She could do this - she could do this for him. She squeezed the slight weight of her breasts, feeling her nipples poking against her palms. She bit her lip, fighting the humiliated blush that stained her cheeks. He wanted her to do this, and she wanted to do it for him - but she had rarely even touched herself privately, let alone on display like this. When she finally got the courage to open her eyes, Beth found Daryl watching her like a hawk. There was also an undeniable bulge in his dirty old jeans, and with renewed confidence that she had such an effect on him, Beth continued. Braver now, she pinched her nipples between her fingers, tugging on them and letting out a whimper at the sensation that spiked through her. She could feel each minstration in her most private place.

After a few more moments, Daryl was on his feet and crossing the distance between them quickly. His hands covered her's, both of them manipulating her flesh, both of them making her moan outright. Just a little while ago, she was feeling sore and uncomfortable - but now her body was on fire and she was arching in his arms, trying to get more contact.

"Please, please," Beth begged him.

"Please what, princess?" Daryl whispered. He brushed his lips against her temple, and she leaned her head into his touch.

The first words that tumbled from her mouth were, "Please, sir," and Daryl froze. For a split second, Beth worried that she messed up - did something wrong - until he was kissing her, hard and rough. There was something different about it, something that made her knees weaken impossibly.

"Lay down," he instructed. Beth glanced at the bench but shrugged and followed his direction. Sprawled on her back, legs and arms hanging down, her legs were slightly parted. Beth wondered if Daryl could smell her excitement, her desire. She knew that she was wet, could feel the slickness on her thighs. If it bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead, he paced beside her for a moment, eyes following the lines of her body before he sank to his knees at her side.

"Is everything ok?" Beth asked nervously. Daryl stroked a lock of hair off of her face, nodded. It did little to relieve her but it would have to do for now. His fingers trailed over her chest, down between her breasts and over her flat tummy. They danced between her hipbones, sliding over the patch of blonde hair at the top of her vagina, before slipping even further down. She gasped out right as his calloused fingers found her clit, sending pleasure shooting through her body.

Leaning forward, Daryl peppered gentle kisses to her skin. It tickled, but Beth held still as his hands held her hips. She could tell by the determined expression on his face that this was something new to him, too. His lips faltered, dragged moist trails over her skin. She wondered if perhaps he had less experience than she thought. Or maybe he was just as excited as she was. His hands were shaking against her skin.

Carefully, Beth reached up and ran a hand through his hair. Daryl's eyes snapped to her face, and she tried to convey all of her emotions - the lust, the affection, the want and need inside of her. The fire he kindled inside of her was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Beth was completely in awe of him.

Suddenly, taking her by surprise, Daryl pressed her thighs apart and licked his tongue over her slit. The sound that left her throat was completely foreign - somewhere between a squeal and a moan - and had him chuckling into her pussy. Beth was too far gone now to notice - instead, all she could process was his tongue teasing the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, one hand forcing her open even further. The other was tracing her pussy-lips, the sensation erotic and plunging her deeper into ecstacy. When he slipped a finger inside of her, twisted and pushing it deep, her back arched off the bench and she whimpered.

She was close to the edge. It was intense, and her chest felt like she couldn't draw in enough oxygen as she panted. Beth had never felt like this before, not even the pervious night. As she writhed beneath his minstrations, Beth couldn't resist the soft cries that left her mouth and echoed through the showers. As Daryl pressed another finger inside of her, grasping her thigh hard enough to leave a bruise, she could stand it no longer. Panting his name, Beth shattered. Her body trembled pleasure, eyes shut tightly and her back arching up again. Once she calmed, except for the pleasant after-shocks that made her core clench around his fingers, Beth's eyes fluttered open slowly. Daryl was gazing at her, watching with his own heated blue eyes. She wasn't sure what came next, but there was one glaringly obvious fact - Daryl wasn't done with her yet.

Daryl pulled his fingers from her quivering pussy, inhaling her delicious scent again. It was all over his face, his stubble, and he knew that for the rest of the day he would go around smelling her. He was already rock hard inside of his trousers, but it was becoming painful. He needed to take care of this before he left the showers, and there was only really one solution. He knew they needed to be quick - had already been down there a while, watching her shower and sing to herself. Daryl knew it was wrong, that there was something weird about his wanting to watch her all the time. But she was so damn beautiful, it was hard to tear himself away.

Her big blue eyes were watching him, and without thinking, held her jaw in one hand and pushed his fingers into her mouth with the other. She stiffened at first, before relaxing and gripping his wrist with both of her small hands. When her tongue flicked against his fingers, Daryl couldn't hold in the groan that tore from his throat. No way was she was as innocent as she seemed. Her reactions, the things she said - calling him fucking sir when he was trying to ask her what she wanted. But damn if it didn't turn him on, didn't make him want to fuck her into the bench she was sprawled on. It seemed that everything the little blonde did would drive him insane with arousal. It wasn't normal.

After she cleaned his fingers to Daryl's satisfaction, he helped her up. Beth's legs were long and shapely, and Daryl took a moment to run his hands over the backs of her thighs appreciateively. She shivered in response, goosebumps rippling over her porcelain skin. The knowledge that she was as excited as he was only spurred him on. While he knew she had to be sore, he couldn't help himself. He tilted her hips towards him with one hand and made quick work of his fly with the other. Before he could even make sure that she was ready and that she wanted it, Daryl was plunging into her wet heat. She fell forward, hands grasping at the bench as he held still inside of her for a few scant seconds.

"Oh God," Beth rasped, and it was all the encouragement he needed. Grasping her hips tight enough to leave marks, Daryl was pumping into her, pulling her body back to slap against his. The sound of flesh smacking against flesh and her soft, breathy moans mingled with his panting grunts filled and echoed in the shower room, but he couldn't find the will to care. She had done so well, obeyed and submitted herself to him. Without even knowing it, Beth had fulfilled one of the fantasies that had been building in his mind since he was a teenager. It might not have been the ropes and spanking that he had jerked off to, but it was the power shift, the way she completely gave up herself to him.

It was insanely erotic. It was painfully arousing. But more than that, it endeared her to him that much more. Not only was she a beautiful woman, but she was a beautiful submissive. She was perfect for him. The realization made him lose his rythym for a moment, causing Beth to push herself back impatiently.

Daryl hissed as she moved against him.

It only took a few more thrusts before she was whimpering his name, fingers digging into the bench and her legs shaking. Daryl held her weight, wrapping an arm around her stomach as he continued his harsh beat against her flesh. He felt the flutter of delicate muscles inside of her, the tell-tale signs that her orgasm was there, happening. Goosebumps rippled over her skin, beneath his fingertips, and the visual representation of her pleasure was enough to send Daryl over the edge. He managed to pull out in time, shooting his seed all over her bottom and lovely thighs. He knew that he should be ashamed, that she probably wouldn't appreciate what turned him on so much to see... Quickly, he wiped her down and lowered her back so that she was sitting on the bench.

"Ya ok?" he asked. He needed to make sure she was good, that he hadn't hurt her or upset her. Women could be so... Well, they were hard for Daryl to understand most of the time. Beth shot him a weak, albeit pleased smile, and that was enough for him. Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling up his pants and fixing his fly. Wouldn't do for someone to discover them just yet.