Sweet Damnation (Richonne Lemon One-Shots)

Damn You

A/N: The Last Richonne Lemon Shot that I have (for now) 

***** 

YOUR POV

You watch him near you, his sky blue eyes leer at you with such intensity, it could almost be mistaken for anger.

Near a swathe of trees, His lips immediately find yours. It's been over six months that you've seen him. You've shared too many kisses for you to count, and still, he finds a way to steal your breath away.

You know this rendezvous is just a distraction for him, and you feel like this should bother you. But it doesn't. He's usually rough with you, but he's even rougher during times like these.

He spreads his fingers and the fastenings on your jacket and backpack, the material hitting the ground with a dull thud. The cool air bites at your exposed arms, and you shudder.

"Are you crazy? It's freezing out here!" you hiss.

"Come on now, you know you won't feel cold for long," he teases, and your stomach does that funny thing when he smirks at you like that.

You let out an irritated huff, your breath misting in the air, and then lean forward to kiss him again. He backs you up against one of the trees, and you can feel the rough bark through your undershirt.

He doesn't remove your shirt but simply pulls it up in order to finally reach your breasts.

The night air is cold, but Rick's hands are colder as they move across your body. One slides his calloused cold hands down past your belly as he sucks on your nipple, seeking the heat pooled between your legs.

He's not disappointed. He never is. His teeth nip against your flesh as his fingers find what they're searching for. You gasp, your head pressing back against the trunk of the tree behind you.

"Did you...bring a...condom?" you ask between sharp intakes of breath, questioning if he remembered the condoms this time.

His lips leave your chest, and his mouth hovers over yours for a moment. "No." He growled, his fingers make your breath hitch again, and you hiss, "Why not?!"

"Because I want to fill you up," he replies smoothly, and then his lips meet yours before you can offer any kind of retort.

His ferocity is showing now, his movements disguised as passion. But you know better.

He undoes his pants, his hands leaving you briefly before they return to tug your bottoms down to your knees. Once more, you grit your teeth against the cold, but you can't deny that it excites you.

He doesn't wait. He pushes into you, his tongue gaining entrance into your mouth from your resulting gasp. The bark of the tree scrapes against your back as he starts to thrust, your hands scrabbling against his shoulders.

One of his hands slips around your thigh and lifts your leg a bit as you do your best to step out of your bottoms. You groan quietly, trying to keep your voice in check.

Your body feels amazing around him. He's always loved the sensation, has even found himself craving it if he doesn't have you for a while.

You hear his breath pick up, and the hand not under your thigh snakes up to your neck. There's no pressure, but he likes the sight, the illusion of control over you. Your pulse is fast beneath his chilly fingers, and he suppresses a moan.

He stills his hips, fully buried in you. "Legs," he orders when you don't immediately comply, his eyes narrow. "Legs," he growls.

"Rick, just give me a second," you get out, irritated, your hand clenched in the front of his shirt.

When you wrap your legs around Rick's waist, he pushes your back harder against the tree trunk. His hips don't move, but his hand releases your thigh and slips down to where your bodies are joined to begin to tease you.

He gets you writhing quickly, hearing your breath pick up beside his ear. It makes him let out a low, pleased sound. Your fingers grasp the fabric at his shoulders, your heart pounding loudly. His teeth find your ear, and his hand unconsciously tightens around your neck as his fingers move faster against your most sensitive area.

He feels your body quiver around him, hears the curses you hiss through your teeth. That's when he starts to undulate his hips again, his pace brutal. You can't keep quiet – you squirm, you moan, you say his name forgetting the sounds of the nearby camp, not caring if anyone is around to hear you.

You're building to your next climax again already, and he's eager for it. He likes the sensation it gives him, likes hearing his name cross your lips during your ecstasy.

He's quickly rewarded, due to the fast pace he's set. It's too much for him, and with a few more pumps of his hips, he releases, deep, hard and hot inside of you with an animal like groan.

Panting fills the air in the quiet forest, the chill of the night starting to give you goosebumps.

"Damn," you moan, biting your lip as he whispers your name over and over again.