Decrepid blog

You stare out the window at the dimly lit street, the screeching of cicadas in the distance filling out the otherwise dead air. It had been quiet for hours and the last time you heard the gate open was when the sun had started setting; He hadn't come back yet. You rub at your shoulders to soothe the anxiety you were giving yourself, you knew he could handle himself against the dead, he was a resilient motherfucker, but people was what you needed to be scared of these days. You finally give up on the pacing, sitting on the steps to get lost in thought, eventually dozing off.

You feel your body floating like in a dream, almost weightless as the harsh smell of copper floods your senses. The soft thudding of boots up the stairs grow louder in your mind and your eyes flutter open to peek at the rugged man carrying you. "You're finally back.." Your arms tighten around him and you bury your face in his chest, feeling the cool, damp fabric that clung to his body. He adjusts you away from him, keeping a low tone when he speaks. "Don't." He lifts one foot to kick the door open and it hits the wall with a loud bang, he lays you gently on the bed and when he stepped back, you finally focus in on the full picture of him. His gray shirt had dark stains, almost black from the amount of blood that had soaked through, dried splatters across his neck and face.

His expression hadn't quite relaxed yet. "Are you okay?" You ask him quietly, scanning him for any injuries and he nods, short, assertive. His hands come up to rub his face, trying to push away the furrow in his brow as he turns around to walk in the bathroom. You hear water pouring in the sink, the soft splashing as he cleans himself, he comes out a moment later, shirtless, with a small towel to dry his face. You sit in silence watching him, he stands there a moment just balling the towel in his hands.

"I only think of one thing when I'm out there.."

A small pause, he takes a step towards you and then drops to his knees. His face desperately tries to keep up the softness he shows you in private but his eyes tell a different story, numbness, anger. Another day of something we lost.

You reach out to touch his face and he wraps his arms around your hips, resting his head on your lap. "Coming back to you." A deep breath from him, his fingers tugged at the flimsy, blue nightwear. "Rick.. We can talk." He shakes his head, yanking the shorts down roughly and ripping the fabric, tearing what was left of it off your legs. "No. Never time to talk, I need you." It was like driving a stake in your heart, he can lose himself in becoming the leader everyone needs him to be, but he wanted to be normal right now and you'd do anything to take the world off his shoulders. He pulls you by your hips, making your back hit the bed and he rests your legs on his shoulders. "You looked so pretty.. Waiting for me on the stairs." He leaves a trail of gentle kisses up your leg, his palm resting shakily on your hip. Your hand covers his, fingers softly tracing over his knuckles and feeling the wounds he had yet to bandage. "Can I wrap you up?" A innocent enough question, he didn't seem fazed. "After."

His face closes in the space between your legs, the stress melting off of him immediately and a low growl comes from his throat. His rough hands grip your inner thighs to part them, spreading you wide as he made eye contact with you, eyes dark and heavy, you knew the man underneath him, but what was painted on the outside was something you barely recognized.

You moan softly, running your fingers through his dark hair, he lays his head on your thigh while he watches the way your body moves against his mouth. "Mm, you're doing so good, baby.." His expression softens at the pet name, using his tongue to lick flat over your pussy then making out with your clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and sucking softly. His hands drop to his lap and you hear the faint clinking of metal as he undoes his belt, he starts to stroke himself off as he presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your hole. The patience in him wears thinner, parting from you to stand up, his hand runs up the back of your head lovingly, then grips a fistful of your hair to force you to look at him. "I know you're gonna be good for me." His voice was low, too deep to be a whisper, you knew he would be rougher than usual but you could hear the promise underneath that he'd never hurt you. He walks around the side of the bed, lowering his hand to the back of your neck and squeezing tightly as he guided you up to press your back flat against the headboard.

His hand drops to his jeans to finish taking them off, letting them hit the floor as he climbs on the bed and positions himself between your legs. The tip of his cock intrudues your slit, sliding it up and down to lather it in the mixture of pleasure and saliva before he sinks into you. Your arms wrap around his neck instinctively, his hands grip your hips to lift you higher and sit you on him to take it all. "Ah!- Damn, Rick~" You curse him, clenching hard to accommodate the size, feeling the tension in his shoulders fade away as he melts into you, he rests his head in the crook of your neck for a moment before he starts kissing there sweetly. "God, so perfect, baby.." He whined, the southern accent dragging out the praise, sugarcoating the situation he had you pinned in. His arms dip under your thighs to spread them wide and he starts thrusting at an ungodly pace, feeling the tip of his cock abuse the pulsing muscle inside your core. You moan and cry out his name repeatedly, but he doesn't slow down, one of his arms wraps around your waist to pull you against him and his palm hits the wall. "Am I hurting you?" Through the harsh snapping of his hips, his deep voice was still sincere, his forehead touches yours to stare you in the eyes. You bite your lip to keep from babbling incoherently, shaking your head while keeping your eyes fixed on his.

He had a look of pride on his face, the pride he only shows you when everything was going to be okay, he knew how strong you were, he knew your limits, boundaries, he loved you more for wanting to take his pain. His lips crash against yours, soaking in every moment he was with you, you moan into his mouth and his tongue slips past your lips to muffle your cries. You could feel your high building as he bullies into you from below, his hand creeps up your neck and brushes his thumb over your throat. He breaks the kiss and wraps his hand around your neck to keep you in place, pulling all the way out to slam back into your pussy. "Fuck- Oh my God-" Your hand finds his wrist and grips tightly, your vision going black with each slam of his cock, the jolt of pleasure probably being the only thing keeping you from passing out on him. Pathetic whimpering is all that you manage to mew out as it hits you, your mind getting fuzzy as the waves course through your body, your finger tips felt numb as you held onto him. He lets out a broken groan while you pulse around him, the thrusts sounding sloppier as the juices practically spilled out of you. He lets go of your throat and the air fills your lungs again, both of his hands drop to your hips and grip harshly, pushing you passed the point of your high as he greedily chases after his own. "Shit- I-I'm sorry, honey.." He stumbles to find the words as his pace grows more erratic, mumbling apologies as his cock twitches and starts to shoot thick, hot ropes inside of you. He holds onto you tightly as he fills you up, your body feels heavy, pulses of pain and pleasure throbbing in your core. He leans his head against you for a moment, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. "I'm so sorry.. Are you okay?" His question was whispered to your shoulder, his hand petting your hair affectionately. "Yeah, baby.. Stay home longer this time." You plead him and you almost feel him smile against your skin, he nods, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone, you feel his cock pulse inside you and you whine, grinding into him. "Rick, please.."

"I thought you wanted me to stay?"

That smartass sheriff.