Hi lovers, please enjoy this sweet little fluffy chapter :) Not 100% on when the next update will be, life is so incredibly hectic at the moment. Please don't hate me, but I'm determined to stretch this story out a little as you all seem to want that for our favourite couple 3

Daryl used to hate mornings with a passion.

Mornings were unwelcome and intrusive with their sunlight and brightness. Over the last two years, mornings had only signified another night of survival and the beginning of another fight. Back at the prison, Daryl would wake before the sun because at least he felt that he maintained some control that way. He would stalk the fence line, savagely gutting walkers as the sun began to rise and the birds began to chirp. Ironic, really.

But now that they were relatively safe in their own little corner of the world, mornings suddenly didn't seem so bad. Especially when his waking moment was always punctuated with the gurgling of his daughter from her crib at the food of the bed.

Or right now, for example, when Maggie had swept in to temporarily abduct Sophia for breakfast, and it had only taken thirty seconds before he was on top of her, her body trapped between the cage of his arms, her blue eyes sparkling up at him with so much love and desire and a fucking deep-seated need for him that he didn't understand. How she could look at him like that, as though he provided her the oxygen she breathed, was beyond his mental capacity.

"Stop it," she whispered, her eyes blinking slowly up at him. She knew. She always knew the exact moment he started to doubt himself. She could read the miniscule slump in his shoulders, the dip of his head as his brain filled with insecurities.

"Stop what?" he was trying to argue around the point, because he didn't like her knowing how he felt. It mustn't be an attractive quality for a lover, to have them constantly questioning your sanity each time you showed them love. But he couldn't help it. It was beaten puppy syndrome. He'd been let down so often in his life that he'd come to believe that he truly didn't deserve anything good. And Beth was certainly so good.

He dropped his head into the crook of her neck in defeat, her fingers twisting into his hair and soothing him.

"Stop doubting yourself. I love you," her fingers tugged sharply at his hair, jerking his head back far enough so that she could turn to kiss him. Her lips were warm, soft, sweet, perfect against his. Yes, mornings were no longer terrible. Daryl could wake like this every day for the rest of his life and never complain.

She let out a little moan against his lips. It wasn't fake, wasn't an exaggeration or a fabrication put in place to boost his confidence. It was soft and genuine and breathy against his lips and it made him kiss her harder, because she wanted him to.

He could feel her leg hook around his hip, pulling him down between her legs to rest against the place where she was wet and he was hard.

"Make love to me," her voice was a broken whisper against his ear as he placed hot kisses on the flesh of her neck, where her pulse hammered wildly beneath his lips.

How could he not? How could he deny her when she asked him for something he wanted with equal passion. Situations like this did not come along as often now that they were parents. Sophia was the love of his life, but she took up 95% of their time and energy, and when they fell into bed each night it was all they could do to remember to kick their boots off first. And now Beth was underneath him, naked and writhing and so fucking wet that it was all he could do to resist sinking into her. So he stopped resisting.

He slid into her. She was so familiar by now. Her body knew him, and adjusted to fit him perfectly. Their familiarity did nothing to stop the gasp that escaped her as he bottomed out inside of her warmth. Fuck, her warmth. Nothing could ever feel as intoxicating as the inside of Beth Greene wrapped around his dick like she was made for him. And perhaps she was.

He withdrew, slowly, teasingly, watching the little crease that formed between her eyes as her brow furrowed in concentration.

As he sank in once more, he tilted her hips up just enough to drag against the rough patch of nerves inside her walls that made her clench around him involuntarily. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, suddenly very aware that he wasn't wearing a damn condom. And she felt good. Too good.

Her cry of pleasure was muffled by her hand, which was pressed against her mouth, her eyes wide and staring into his with each coming together of their bodies. As much as Beth liked to be loud, liked to be fucked on desk and tables and bathroom vanities, she also appreciated this kind of love. Private. Intimate. Where only Daryl could hear and see what she felt, how her breath caught in her chest as her hips rocked against his.

Daryl's hands wondered south, brushing over her breasts tenderly. His head dipped down to tease a nipple with his tongue, enjoying the arch of her back and another soft cry of pleasure at his ministrations.

His fingers moved to where they were joined, practiced in how to please her. He pressed right above where he sank into her, spreading her wetness up to coat his fingers as he circled her clitoris. Her hips stuttered in her rhythm of meeting him halfway, her pupils blown wide as he played with her like only he knew how.

In any other circumstance, she would tell him she was coming. She would rut against him like a bitch in heat because the feeling that was building at the pit of her stomach was too much, too intense to contain in silence. But this time was different. No words were shared between them, but the look burning in her eyes paired with the throbbing of her core around him told Daryl just as much as words ever could.

She was coming. Around him. All over him. Her skin was glowing with a sheen of sweat, that pink flush spreading from her face down her decolletage and across her breasts as her fingernails dug into Daryl's bicep. He couldn't watch her any longer, so he returned his attention to her neck, gloriously exposed to him now that her head was thrown back. She was recovering, slowly but surely.

He didn't expect her to roll them over, his back resting against the headboard as she resituated herself on top of him, letting out a sigh as she sank down over his length.

He had words he needed to say to her, warning her that he was bareback, that she was testing the waters of his self control, when she started to ride him. God, she was perfect and tiny and she was bouncing in his lap like she was riding one of those damn horses from the farm.

Her breasts were in his face, his teeth taking every opportunity to graze against her nipples and enjoy the tilt of her hips as she took him in and the feel of her ass under his palms.

"Beth, we gotta be careful," he bit out, feeling a terrifying and familiar feeling in his balls that signified an orgasm.

She didn't respond, head thrown back as he hips moved against his faster. He could feel the tension within her walls, could feel her own orgasm hurtling towards her like a freight train.

"Beth, baby, please" he struggled to remain quiet, didn't want to scream at her, but his own release was no longer something he could control.

"Ain't got a condom, Beth. Gotta pull out," he was quite impressed that he had managed to construct a syntactically correct sentence, but it had fallen on deaf ears as Beth came for the second time, back bowing under the sensations coursing through her body.

Daryl knew his own body well enough by now that he knew he had approximately five seconds before he blew his load.

"Beth, Jesus Christ," he grunted out in defeat as he grasped her hips tight enough to bruise, lifting her up not a moment too soon, hips thrusting into thin air before he was coming, warm and sticky across her alabaster stomach.

"Oh God," it was the first thing Beth had said since they'd started all of this. He watched her while he waited for his heart rate to slow, saw the gaze of her eyes as they went from the rivulets of come that laced her skin to the tensed muscles of his biceps as he held her weight suspended above him.

"Almost gave me a heart attack," he breathed, surveying her cautiously as he gently returned her weight to his lap.

"I'm sorry," her voice sounded like it was about to break, like she was on the verge of tears.

He rushed to comfort her.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" he whispered into her hair, squeezing her warmth tight against his chest.

"I just wasn't thinking. I don't know. I'm sorry," she replied softly. A small shred of relief flowed through him at her words, but he still wanted to be sure.

"Do you want another baby?"

He heard her sniffle and immediately felt awful. If she wanted children, all she had to do was ask.

"Not now. In a few years, sure. But not now. I'm sorry if that's what you thought I was trying to do. It wasn't that. I just can't think straight sometimes, when you're inside me, I can't control myself," she was hiding her face in the crook of his neck out of shame or embarrassment, he wasn't sure.

"It's okay, Beth. I'm sorry if I bruised you. I just didn't want to do something to you that you'd regret. Those things can't be undone," he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before she turned to gaze into his eyes.

"I love you for it. I don't deserve you, Daryl Dixon," she smiled at the look of sheer disbelief etched into his features.

"That's the first time anyone's ever spoken that combination of words," he retorted, handing her his shirt to wipe at her stomach.

Suddenly, pounding footsteps were heard heading towards the bedroom door.

"Daryl! Beth!" Glenn's voice, timid but determined.

Daryl pulled up the sheets to wrap them around Beth's body, unsure of whether Glenn was going to burst in or not.

"Ain't decent!" he shouted in Glenn's direction, hoping to stall him a little while he searched for his boxers. Where in the fucking fuck did he leave them last night? Why did the little things like boxers and condoms always slip your mind when you needed them most?

He found them strewn between the sheets, pulling them on haphazardly before throwing open the door to their room. Glenn stood there with his hand over his rifle. He was breathless, but the lack of physical activity seemed to hint that it was from fear and not exertion. A bright flame of panic bloomed in Daryl's gut.

"Where's Sophia?" he demanded immediately, his eyes already searching past Glenn and out onto the landing.

"She's fine, she's safe. Maggie's locked them both in our bedroom."

"Why?" Daryl barely noticed that Beth had come to stand beside him in the doorway, one of his shirts pulled over her frame to cover her nudity.

"Glenn? What's wrong?" it was her soft and gentle voice that seemed to coax the words from Glenn's throat.

"There's someone at the door."

Reviews are my redbull, they give me wings! P\

Lara xoxo