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Your heart pounds against your ribs, lungs desperately drawing in air as you bolt through towering woodlands. Leaves crunch under the thin soles of your shoes, your frantic footsteps leaving tracks to be followed as sharp tree branches swat your upper body. The fabric of your dress catches on thorny vines that emerge from the undergrowth as you fumble to navigate the forest, pulse hammering a pounding rhythm in your ears.
You’re disoriented, only the pearly glow of the moon illuminating your way. Slowing to a stop, your hands fall to rest on your thighs as you fight to heave in a breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
Panting, with sweat dripping from your brow and knees shaking in exhaustion, you turn in a full circle to take in your surroundings. Your eyes dart to try and place a familiar rock, tree, log - anything. Everything looks different in the dark, soft moonlight filtering through the lofty oak trees and casting obscure shadows around you. You let out a breathy whimper as your stomach drops, the realisation washing over you - you’re completely, unequivocally lost.
Regret floods your chest as soon as the sound leaves your lips. The crack of a branch breaking under foot echoes somewhere behind you, and a low two-toned whistle carries through the air. The sound sends an icy chill down your spine, your back moving to press firmly against the nearest tree.
You desperately try to shallow your breathing, drawing ragged breaths through your nose as your fingertips press against the weathered bark of the trunk. Leaning your head back, your eyes fall closed as you will your lungs to steady.
After a moment, the forest falls silent again, relief settling in your chest as you hear only the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. Your mouth tastes like iron, lungs burning and stuttering as you feel your energy depleting.
Scanning your surroundings, you spot a path through the trees ahead, trembling hands pushing you forwards and feet beginning to clamber along. There’s a searing ache in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you resume your hurried pace through the brush.
The forest floor is uneven - tree roots and twisting vines lurk in the undergrowth as if nature were laying its own traps to catch you. Stumbling to a juncture in the woods, two paths present themselves to you. Your eyes dart back and forth rapidly between the two choices, your fogged mind struggling to weigh the options. Another crack resonates through the air, the echo of a branch breaking feels closer than the last.
Panic rises in your chest, forcing you to choose, left or right. Your feet pivot left, uneven steps carrying you forward as tears begin to prick in your eyes. Your pace is frenetic, the holster of your knife rubbing against your skin where the leather is strapped to your thigh. You grasp the handle with shaking fingers, pulling the blade from its leather sheath. Trepidation pools in your stomach as Daryl’s last words play at the front of your mind.
He looks ready to devour you, teeth slightly bared and calloused hands gripping the crossbow slung over his chest. You’re inches away from him, heaving chest bumping against the bolt loaded in his bow. Your pulse spikes and chest stutters as you look up at him, your eyebrows pulled and pupils dilated. His tone is low and sharp, lips moving to hover next to your ear, three words whispered with a faint growl.
“10 minutes. Run.”
You gulp, beginning to back away, eyes wide and fixed on him as a cruel smile ghosts across his lips. A predator toying with its prey. You turn swiftly, fumbling legs taking you into the forest. The Georgia sunset dips below the horizon, blanketing the towering trees in an inky darkness.
Slam.
You’re wrenched from your thoughts as you hit the floor, hands extended in a futile attempt to break your fall. You meet the solid ground face first, wind knocked from you and knife tumbling from your hand. Trying to lift yourself, you press your shaking palms into the damp leaves around you in vain as you struggle to shift to your knees. You turn to look behind you, pulling to find your right ankle snagged in a gnarled tree root.
Fuck.
Your trembling fingers palm the mossy undergrowth in search of your knife to cut yourself free, panic rising in your chest. You spot the silver blade a few inches from your grip, the burnished metal glinting tauntingly amongst the leaves. Straining your right hand to grasp the handle, the muscles in your forearm pull taut as your fingertips stretch to graze the hilt. You use your elbows to shuffle along the forest floor, the knife in just reach as you hurriedly inch forward.
Before your grip can tighten around the wood, the sole of a boot plants your fragile wrist into the ground. A startled gasp escapes your lips, glassy eyes roaming up and examining the familiar boot that pins you down helplessly. Your gaze rises, travelling higher from your prone position on the floor, finally locking eyes with him.
Daryl stands above you - his crossbow is still slung across his chest, various weapons strapped to his worn leather belt as his darkened eyes stare down at you triumphantly. A low whistle leaves his lips, heavy boot lifting from your wrist as his knees bend to settle himself in front of you, resting on the balls of his feet with hands clasped in front of him.
“Well, well, well.”
Daryl scoffs, tutting and shaking his head as he takes in the sight below him, a merciless smirk spread across his face.
“Jus’ what do we have here, hm?”
His voice is mocking, a calloused hand reaching to thread through your hair as his fingertips tug at the roots, turning your head to face him. You don’t answer him, your stomach sinking as he begins to snicker pitilessly.
A small sob leaves your lips, tears threatening to blur the sides of your vision as you fix your pleading gaze on him. Your brows are pinched, eyes widened like startled prey, heart hammering against your chest.
“Looks like I caught me a lil’ doe.”
Daryl’s voice drips with arrogance, gaze positively ravenous as his eyes rake up and down your body. His hand moves from your hair to cradle your jaw, the coarse pad of his thumb stroking your bottom lip.
When he spots your ankle tanged in the protruding tree root, his spare hand moves to grasp a knife that’s holstered to his belt. He leans over, sawing through the root with ease and freeing your trapped ankle.
The moment you’re no longer restrained, you skitter to sit upright and curl your skinned knees to your torso. You shuffle backwards slightly, chest heaving and startled eyes never leaving his.
“Now, now, lil’ doe…not try’na get away from me, ‘re ya?”
His voice is gruff and low, eyes never leaving yours as he slowly inches towards you, crouched low in the way a wolf stalks a rabbit. Your eyes are wide, innocent, with pupils blown as you nod timidly.
Daryl slowly shakes his head in response, tutting under his breath again as he moves closer to you. He lifts his crossbow from where it’s slung across his chest, the heavy weapon landing next to him with a thud.
Your weight shifts from your palms to your elbows, delicate skin pressing into the dirt as you fall backwards with knees flexed in front of you. He stalks closer with his hand extended, calloused fingers wrapping around your ankle and tugging to slide you closer. Your back hits the damp earth as you’re drawn under him, elbows dragging through the dirt.
Daryl’s body completely covers yours now, rough hands moving to frame your head as he holds himself above you. You’re immobilised, right thigh pinned between his knees. His scent is thick in the air - a combination of smoke, leather, and pine flooding your senses.
The cool night breeze blows gently over your skin, spreading goosebumps over your bare legs. Daryl dips his head, tongue slowly licking a wet stripe from your collar bone and along the side of your neck. He pauses with teeth bared, mouth resting against your hammering pulse point as he feels your heart rate increase at his touch.
Your breath hitches at the contact, mouth betraying you as a whimper slips from your lips when he lightly grazes the skin. He takes the flesh between his teeth, biting gently before releasing as he earns another small whine from you.
You feel him smirk against your skin, his palm raising to rest at the base of your neck as his fingers squeeze lightly. Daryl lifts his head to look at you, the denim of his jeans rubbing against the exposed skin of your thighs as you’re held helplessly under him.
“Look ‘t you, pretty thing, out here all on yer own…”
Daryl’s voice is condescending, his hand moving from your neck to grasp your chin, slightly turning your head left, then right, glinting eyes taking in your dishevelled appearance.
“Y’ lost, lil’ doe?”
His tone is low, head cocked slightly and a feigned look of concern on his face as you shake your head ‘no’. Your eyes are still locked on Daryl’s as he holds himself above you, the hand resting at your chin beginning to trail down your body.
His warm fingertips slowly graze over your clavicle, the pads of his fingers gently stroking the delicate flesh exposed by the square neck of your dress. Daryl pushes the fabric down at your shoulder, mouth moving to plant a slow kiss at the newly uncovered skin. Another whimper falls from your lips, your mouth betraying you once more as your body relishes the contact.
He smiles against you, devious eyes looking up at you through his lashes as his hand shifts swiftly to pull down neck of your dress. You gasp at the sudden movement, his fingers yanking the fabric to expose your breasts, nipples pulled taut as the crisp night air kisses your skin.
Daryl hums in approval, mouth moving to take a nipple between his teeth. He sucks, wet tongue flicking deliciously against the bud, before releasing with a soft pop. Your breathing is staggered, eyelids drooping as pleasure begins to pool at your centre.
“Y’ taste so sweet, lil’ doe.”
Daryl’s hand moves to your thigh, palm slipping under your skirt and fingertips brushing against your delicate skin. His touch is ravenous, wasting no time as he presses the pad of his thumb to the your centre, kneading smooth circles into the fabric covering your clit.
A moan finally escapes you, breathy and desperate for him, unable to bite back the sound as pleasure pulses at your core. He uses his index finger to slip your underwear to the side, finding you soaked as he swipes his fingers through the wetness. He brings his index and middle fingers to his lips, eyes never leaving yours as he slips them into his mouth and sucks each clean, one after the other.
“So. Fuckin’. Sweet.”
The words vibrate in his throat, his deep tone sending heat coiling to your stomach. Daryl’s hand returns to your centre, two fingers sliding into you to the knuckle with ease. You wait for him to move, your eyes begging wordlessly, but he doesn’t relent.
His fingers are unmoving as he looks down at you, feigned pity on his face as he watches you squirm beneath him. You offer your hips up to him in a silent plea for more. Daryl chuckles, hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you, a smirk spread across his lips.
“Y’ want more, hm?“
His voice is teasing, brows raised and tongue pressed into his cheek. You nod, desperate whimpers falling from your lips. You’re aching for friction, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from frustration. Daryl’s fingers are still motionless inside you.
“Words, lil’ doe.”
He leans back, resting on his knees with your right thigh still pinned between his legs. You’re a writhing mess beneath him, cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with desire. You know he won’t move until you ask.
“Please.”
It’s the only word you can sputter out, your mind completely fogged with lust and desperation. It’s all Daryl needs to hear, his thick fingers finally moving in a steady rhythm.
“Atta girl…S’ good f’ me.”
Daryl’s ravenous eyes drink in the sight below him, watching as you chase your release. The skirt of your dress is bunched at your hips, underwear pushed to the side and breasts still bared as you ride his fingers. You’re moaning, delicious sounds leaving your lips and your eyes pinched closed in ecstasy.
He slips in a third finger and moves his thumb to your clit, pressing heavy circles into the bundle of nerves, watching as your body reacts to him. You gasp, walls clenching at the stretch, the sound fading to whimpers as his fingers continue their rhythm. Your arm raises up to rest over your eyes, the intense pleasure almost too much to bear.
“Look ‘t me, or I’ll stop.”
Your eyes snap open at his words, the warm fingertips of the hand that isn’t inside you hooking beneath your chin as he angles your face upwards.
Daryl’s eyes meet yours, darkened pupils eclipsing the blue of his eyes as he watches you take his thick fingers.
The arm covering your eyes moves to grip at the floor beneath you instead, hands desperately searching for an anchor. Daryl feels you tighten around him, your release close, teetering on the edge of completion.
“That’s it…C’mon now lil’ doe - fuck - Y’ gonna come f’ me, hm?”
Daryl’s voice is thick with desire, the words leaving his throat as a growl. His rough fingers increase their rhythm, wrist flexing as his fingertips search for that spot inside you. Your eyes are dipped but never leave his as you nod frantically, reaching your climax as waves of pleasure ripple over your body, soft moans falling from your lips.
Your delicate hands grasp at the taut muscles of Daryl’s forearm, nails leaving half moon indents in his skin as his hand still slowly pumps into you, tempo slowed as he works you through your release.
Slick drips like honey on Daryl’s fingers when he slides them from your centre, sticky sweet as he raises one, two, three digits to his mouth to taste you.
The sight sends heat pulsing to your stomach, orgasm still buzzing in your oversensitive nerves as you watch him devour the taste, like a man starved. Each finger slips from his mouth with a pop, his saliva lingering on his fingertips.
You gaze up at Daryl from your where you lay on the forest floor. His head is slightly bent over with tendrils of hair falling to cover his eyes, the skin of his defined arms streaked with dirt from hunting, visible from the torn off sleeves of his shirt. His torso is clad in his angel-wing leather vest, moonlight gleaming on the buffed leather.
“See somthin’ y’ like, hm?”
Daryl’s eyes are teasing, but a small smile sits on his lips when you slowly nod your head ‘yes’. His legs shift to free your pinned thigh, hands moving to grip your waist.
“I’ll give y’ somethin’ you’ll like, angel.”
In one motion, Daryl flips you to your front, a gasp leaving your lips as his bruising fingers pull your hips upwards to meet his crotch. He presses the bulge in his jeans to your covered centre, and you feel his hard cock straining beneath the denim.
The sensation sends heat to your stomach and a whimper to your lips, your body aching in anticipation. Two calloused fingers tug your underwear to your knees as he fumbles to unbuckle his belt, metal and leather clicking as he pulls the zipper of his jeans down.
You’re desperate for him, lying prone on the forest floor with your hips flexed, waiting. You’re completely soaked, slick pooling at your centre as Daryl pulls his cock from his underwear behind you.
You hear him spit in his hand, pumping himself twice before tapping the head to your slit. You whine, aching for more as he continues to toy with you.
“This what y’ want, lil’ doe, hm? Tell me what y’ want.”
The head of his cock drags through the wetness at your centre, deliriously slow movements sending ripples of pleasure pulsing through you.
“Yes, please - fuck, Daryl - want you…please.”
The sentence leaves your mouth as an incoherent string of pleas, so desperate to feel him inside you, hips trying to push yourself back onto him.
Daryl rests a firm hand at the small of your back to hold you in place, his tip nudging your clit as he lines himself at your entrance.
In one motion, he sinks his cock into you, the angle splitting and raw. A ragged moan leaves your mouth, walls pulsing around him as he sets a deliriously slow tempo.
Daryl’s hands rest at the small of your back, pushing and pulling your hips to languidly slide you up and down his cock. His hips match the movements, burying the full length of himself into you with each thrust.
Daryl fucks you that way for what feels like a heavenly eternity, pressing himself so deep into you that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You’re a trembling mess beneath him, sounds leaving your mouth as one long unintelligible slur.
You moan, beg, plead for him, burying your face in the crook of your elbow, so desperate for more yet so overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you. Every nerve in your body buzzes with pleasure as you teeter on the edge of your second release.
Daryl finally increases his speed, hips snapping forcefully against yours as he fucks you in a punishing rhythm. His grip on your skin is bruising, rough hands holding you hard enough to leave marks as he pulls you to meet every thrust. The head of his cock bumps your cervix each time, sending pulses of ecstasy coursing through your body.
Each thrust is punctuated with his drawling Southern sounds - a mess of moans, grunts and praise falling from Daryl’s lips as he chases his own release.
“Look at you - s’ fuckin’ good f’ me, - shit - want y’ to come again, sweetheart, c’mon - f-fuck, y’ can do one more f’ me.”
Daryl snakes his hand around you, fingers finding your clit and working rapid circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. His pace never falters, the combined endeavours of his fingers and cock pushing you to the edge.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’ me - that’s it, lil’ doe, c’mon now.”
Your climax crashes over your body in waves, release bursting behind your eyes and every muscle taut as you clench around him, obscene sounds tumbling from your lips as Daryl fucks you through your orgasm.
You’re still coming down from your high, face flushed and body an overstimulated puddle in front of him when Daryl’s hips begin to stutter. His pace falters, a slew of curses leaving his mouth as his cock twitches and he spills himself into you with a drawn out moan.
He lowers himself over you, his chest meeting your back as his hips make their final few thrusts. Daryl groans as he pulls himself from you, warm liquid beginning to drip down the inside of your thigh almost immediately.
Daryl hooks his fingers in the sides of your underwear, carefully pulling them up for you, then turning you gently to lay on your back. He zips and buckles himself before tenderly pulling up the neck of your dress to cover your chest.
His hand moves to smooth your hair, a small smile resting on his face as he leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. You hear him mumbling faintly against your lips, voice hushed as you giggle slightly in response.
“Think I caught y’ fair ‘n square, sweetheart.”