Oh, oh. Beth whimpered against his lips and pressed down into the roll of his hips. Every bit of friction was delicious and still not enough. One arm braced her while she slipped the other between them, unfastening her jeans and pushing them down to allow him more room to move and touch. Getting his hands on her was all she could think of. "Touch me. Daryl, please."

Next, she reached for his jeans, opening them enough to slide her own hand inside. She moaned again when her palm curled over him, feeling the hardness straining against his boxers.