SURPRISE!

Beth's not really sure if she's still living in reality any more or if she just tumbled down a rabbit hole of insanity as she shakily climbs into the bottom bunk, her knees still weak, heart still pounding and throat dry. There are delicious aftershocks blooming between her thighs and vibrating through her bones, forcing her to clench her teeth against whimpers.

What the hell just happened to her? To him? To them? Is labelling it as a 'them' even mentally, a clever thing to do? Probably not but she hasn't got a whole lot of experience in this kind of thing and she's prone to obsessing. Even more so with the guy she hasn't stopped thinking about in weeks, possibly months.

She's not sure, time doesn't really work properly anymore, doesn't adhere to previous rules and that's probably why everything happened so fast, why Daryl Dixon's goddamn head was buried between her legs… what? Ten minutes ago? Twenty? Then why is he already pushing softly through the curtain over her cell?

Has it already been an hour? God, she must be losing it. If it really has been an hour, her body hasn't calmed down in that time and now her heart doesn't so much as start jackhammering as it simply increases, having only been two steps away from a full on cardiac fucking arrest.

Jesus, she's trembling.

She needs to calm down, but he's just standing at the curtain and she's too scared to tip her head back and look at him from where her back lays towards him. Beth knows she should say something. She invited him after all and now she's lying here pretending to be asleep. He could leave and she's not sure if she wants him too or not.

Yes, she's been obsessing and God, the kitchen earlier was like a fantasy blooming to life with fucking fairy dust, but this is the cold hard reality of her cell and it feels like if he penetrates this space he absorbs everything about her. In the kitchen, come morning, in the light, it will be like a lucid dream.

In her cell, she'll come back every night and smell him on her sheets. Smell her and him because she's not fickle and he ain't stupid neither, they both know why she invited him back. Reason couldn't be clearer without him bringing her to a trembling orgasm on the kitchen counter, let alone with that being a real factor. So now what? He still hasn't moved and neither has she.

"Beth," he grumbles lowly. "You up?"

Daryl's voice freezes her and there's a spinning fantasy… a sick one, of the oldest man in the group creeping into her room, hers: eighteen-year-old Beth Greene after showing her what he can make her feel. Of his sneaking around, of his hoarse throat as he tries to keep quiet. It all sends a sick thrill through her and her pussy pulses.

Her answer is a strangled moan. Though she understands it, she's sure Daryl will be perplexed as to how his voice can make her moan, even though it can. He's probably laughing at her a little bit and it brings such clarity to the thought that she's so young and inexperienced that his mere voice can make her stomach swoop with excitement.

"You playin' girl?" He whispers.

Beth buries her face in the pillow because is she? Is that what she's doing? Has she teased him with a little slice of her in the kitchen, yapping on about this is why and you can do what you want? Not like she imagines he would hurt her but the thought of him gripping her thighs and demanding to fuck her…

She shivers, imagining those huge biceps flexing as he keeps her still and fucks her cunt. Jesus. Her body tenses when she hears his soft step forward, one after another and another. Three in total to reach her and then his hand strokes over the exposed line of her throat, his fingers stroking the baby hairs there and forcing her trembling to intensify.

His fingers suddenly flex and grip, tightly holding the nape of her neck with his strong fingers and pressing her face down into her pillow until she's gasping with rapid dashes of fear and excitement, receding and flowing like the ocean into her pussy. Her chest physically hurts, strained as she struggles for breath.

It's only as he comes closer and whispers into her ear, "this okay?" That she relaxes.

Not physically: she's still tense with the thrums of adrenaline and terror of being manhandled like this. But mentally yes, this is okay and she only about manages to nod but he takes that and continues on with this sudden, feral Daryl, like the one who ate her pussy compared to the man she knows in her family: quiet, sullen.

His teeth close around the lobe of her ear and she can't help but whimper into the fabric of her pillow, so unbearably turned on she's aching. God, she's never felt like this before and it's all a bit twisted and irrational, that this man nearly as old as her daddy is making her pussy drip like honey, soaking her panties with the juicy essence.

It's a little sick but she can't hide how much she's getting off on it, how much she likes him sneaking into her cell in the depths of the night, in the pitch black to grip her neck and grind her face down into the thin pad of the mattress she sleeps on like an errant dog who's pissed where it shouldn't have.

She feels exactly like an errant puppy like she's been bad and justified in the knowledge that bad girls get punished and her punishment is due. She's been so bad, watching him eat, watching him sucking his fingers clean and wishing it was her pussy juices he was enjoying so damn much.

Beth's been so bad and she's ready, she's ready for Daryl to show her what happens to bad girls. He groans softly as his hand worms under the blanket and the fact that she's under it and he's not, that he hasn't joined her in bed like a lover but instead hovered on the edge like a mysterious shadow sent to touch her up ramps her up so much she can't stand it.

Pricks of a million hot needles pierce her skin and her clit, driving her need even higher. His fingers, his big, warm palm meets the bare flesh of her waist where her top has wriggled up and he can't seem to take it, just as overwhelmed by this whole sordid encounter as she is that his hand grips her waist and shoves.

Obediently she goes up on her knees, pushing her ass up in the air like a bitch in heat as Daryl strips the blanket away, stinging her bare thighs with the cold air. It's such a contradiction to the heat over the rest of her body, especially her face which is burning up in the twist of sheets and the thick curtain of her hair.

It's clumpy and knotted, all the curls nestling against her lips and eyelashes, hot little nests that buffer her face with excruciating heat and no chance for cold air. Beth's too lost in the excitement though, her belly quivering as bad as her frozen thighs when Daryl's hot fingers stroke from her knee to her pussy.

It's no longer quivering but pure shaking, high on the rush of anticipation and ready for a crash back into relief. He stops a minute to soothe her flesh, stroking and massaging her ass through her shorts. She whines with impatience, too strung up on the thoughts in her head to calm the fuck down.

"Shh girl, you're good, I got you. Ain't gotta be scared."

Scared? Is that what she is? Possibly, but not for the reason Daryl thinks. Not scared of him, but of herself, of how much she's enjoying this, of how much she's twisted it into her sick fantasy. Him, coercing his young little piece of meat to just calm down, relax so he can make everything so, so good.

God, she wants it so bad, she's in pain. Even more pain when he hooks his hands into her shorts and tugs on them, pulling so they fall down her thighs and get to just above her bent knees where he leaves them, bunched and bounding her legs together. Jesus Christ, he's tying her up. All he needs to do now is bound her hands and she's gonna cum.

Bound and gagged, ass up in the air and pussy ready for his cock. Jesus God, breathe, breathe. She might pass out, she might actually need to get out of this swaddle of pillow and sheet and hair before she honest to God faints. Is that a possibility? Can she faint if she just goes mad with impatience, with this carnal need burning through her like the fucking devil?

Daryl's fingers travel down her bare ass and she goes cross-eyed into the darkness she's smothered in, moaning desperately the nearer he draws to her throbbing cunt. Please, please. She's not sure if she says it aloud or not but it doesn't matter because it doesn't speed him. She should have known he wouldn't rush, that he's still Daryl in this beast.

A beast to claim the bitch in heat she's become, offering her pussy for anyone to sink into. God, she could scream. She thinks she's gonna go insane and he hasn't even touched her yet. She's terrified of what it will feel like to cum again, of how he'll make her feel and she's even tempted to tell him to stop and just go because she can't take it.

She feels like she's made out of tissue paper and the onslaught of an orgasm is going to be the only thing she needs to be torn to shreds and blown to the wind. She feels so fragile but it all adds to the arousal, how small she feels beneath his hulking shadow, his very presence, let alone his physical body.

Those biceps. Goddamn, she has to bite them. Has to. His fingers are rough and slow on her skin but they soon reach the jackpot and she knew she was gonna scream, she knew it because his thick fingers pushing into her pussy are pure magic. She didn't think there would be anything better than his tongue but he's gone and topped himself.

Beth's stomach cramps with the pleasure and she tucks her bound knees in, bringing his driving fingers deeper inside her. She gasps desperately, her hips jerking even though she's not making the command, her pussy too hungry and desperate for the wonders he can bestow upon her body.

He growls, dark and feral and oh so fucking delicious and she actually sobs, an onslaught of arousal pebbling her skin. He's like an animal even without fucking her, but with his fingers gaining speed and soon ploughing into her grasping pussy walls, Beth's reaffirmed in the knowledge while completely lost in the pleasure of his fingers.

He's got two in there and they stretch her like he's shoved a fucking beer can inside her, thick and meaty like she's praying his cock is gonna be, her clit stretched taut over his fingers and pounding with need, crying for attention. Daryl pants desperately, so eager to bring her to orgasm and it's so endearing, so damn sexy it's all she wants to do for him.

She wants to cum and cum until she can't stand it just to show him how he's making her feel, how he's making her goddamn body feel. Though if he can't tell from her mutilated sobbing she's not sure what else will convince him. Daryl's thumb nuzzles around his fingers and her throat convulses, imaging him fucking her with two fingers and his thumb.

Beth's not sure she can handle that kind of sexual torment but she shouldn't have worried, because his thumb pushes into her asshole and there is no longer a good enough word to describe what he's doing to her body, let alone 'sexual torment' and she's actually screaming now, screams that will wake people to her dirty little secret but she can't stop.

Daryl's hand squeezes against her head, cutting off her voice and the absolute fucking terror just makes her explode, the tight constriction of her chest echoing in her ass and pussy as she clenches down on Daryl's fingers and squeezes. He howls something wounded and broken against her neck and her skin floods in goosebumps.

Jesus, God. Who the fuck is this man? Who the fuck looked at him and thought 'he should be a God in bed?' Who? She's not made for this. She's just a little country bumpkin, eighteen years old living a relatively shitty fucking life. She is not a busty brunette in a trashy romance novel who catches the hottest guy's eye and makes him think her.

I want her. She isn't made for this erotic novel level sex and excitement, she can't fucking handle it and she is truly, honest to God sobbing. Daryl pulls his fingers free and she can't even make a noise at the pour of liquid that spills down her thighs and soaks her bedsheets, beading on the backs of her knees.

"You good?" He heaves.

She's sobbing like a fucking baby, not pleasured sobs either but real, heavy ones but she is good. She's fucking fabulous and she can't understand this stupid reaction she's having but it's all part of the sordid little affair. The pretend. The girl who's ashamed that the big, strong man made her enjoy the pleasure she tried to deny.

"God, get the fuck in here."

For some reason, Beth thinks he's going to slide under the covers and cuddle her, comfort her, but he doesn't. He grips her cum soaked thighs and spins her towards him, bringing her ass to his waist level. Beth gasps, cutting off her sobs in startled surprise, not sure which decision she preferred.

Does she want comfort or more? Who is she kidding? She's always gonna want more because this is fucking addicting and she's already gasping like a dog when she hears the stripping of his belt buckle. Her throat floods with saliva and it silences her as she gags it back. She has air in this position and she almost hates it.

Just as much as she loves the head of his cock pushing past her swollen pussy lips to nestle against her opening. Breathe, breathe, breathe. But she doesn't want to. She wants his claiming, his dominance when he wraps his hand around the nape of her neck.

"Please," she begs.

"Please what, girl? What'du want?"

Really good fucking question. To be fucked? To be strangled? Both?

"Fuck me," she settles, offering her ass higher. "Please, Daryl, please."

"Christ s'good to hear you beg. Don't like lies though, girl."

He lands a ringing slap on her ass and she's so absorbed in the burning heat that she doesn't even worry how loud it was in the quiet cell.

"Tell me what you fuckin' want or I'll show you."

My God, what's the better option? They're both really good fucking ideas.

"C-choke me. Oh God, please. I like it so much."

The shame burns like a lit cigarette in her intestines but she's not taking it back.

"You're one kinky bitch, Beth Greene," he mumbles in her ear.

She mewls as his teeth bite into her shoulder, his hand pressing against her ass and spreading her cheek upwards so he can thrust into her cunt. She grunts, slamming her hand into the concrete wall in front of her to catch her weight, so conscious suddenly of Rick lying on the other side of that wall.

Can he hear them fucking? Will he say anything about it? Will he tell someone? Fuck, she doesn't care right now. Daryl's cock pulling out right until the thick, mushroom head pops out of her tight pussy with a dull sting and pushes back in again is one of the most divine experiences she's ever had and she'll defend it until the day she dies.

Everyone in the world deserves to feel pleasure like she is and she is not passing up fucking Daryl Dixon for the rest of her goddamn miserable life if she can just feel like this every time. She grunts again, her hand pushing against the wall and pressing her ass back into Daryl's cock, hips rocking in some kind of rhythm to his fucking.

"So fuckin' tight," he growls desperately, the hand on her hip rising to wrap around her throat and squeeze.

"Oh my God," she squeaks, her pussy clenching tight all he needs in order to know how much she likes what he just did.

His fingers dig harder into her throat and the oxygen just cuts off from her brain, forcing her eyes to roll back as her nails scrabble at the wall and she cums all over Daryl's dick. He groans and pulls out so she can splash more cum onto the sheets, her knees wobbling as Daryl's cock rubs up and down her soaked slit, teasing her clit until she spasms.

He catches her as she falls with the second spasm, holding her up and still strangling her, gentler now though. Beth moans into the cold concrete of the wall as she lets her face fall into it, her cheeks wet with tears and her chin soaked with spit. The fact that Daryl doesn't give her time to recover might be why she lets him do it.

The pure excitement of the claiming is enough to override the soreness of her poor, over sensitive cunt. His cock fucks through her clamped pussy walls and fights with barriers he meets until he's balls deep in her again, squeezing her throat and her left tit as he fucks her viciously, their skin slapping together and his belt smacking the soft skin of her inner thigh so damn loud.

So fucking exciting.

She's not made for multiple orgasms and she's nearly unconscious as he plough into her, but enjoying it so damn much her stomach is quivering. Beth has no clue how long he fucks her, honestly, she thinks she slides in and out of unconsciousness but she comes to for a second as he sprays cum over her ass.

It's so damn territorial it makes Beth's pussy pound one last, pitiful time. Daryl doesn't merely collapse over her after that, no, he weighs her down so much she falls dramatically into the thin mattress, his soft cock resting between her ass cheeks. She's just about slipped into sleep when his voice wakes her.

"S'that alrite? You okay? M'sorry, I got all carried away an' shit."

She has just enough energy to snort her amusement. "Daryl Dixon, I am lyin' in soakin' wet sheets of my own cum 'cause of you. M'way damn better than 'alrite.'"

He snorts his own amusement. "Go sleep."

"Yes, Sir," she murmurs sarcastically, letting her eyes slide back shut. "Will you stay a bit?"

There's a hesitation and then, "'til you fall'a sleep."

She hums, she'll have to deal with it. "Night, Daryl."

"Night, girl.