No Sanctuary For Old Men [18+] |Negan| ✔️ Complete

XXXI • The Calm Before the Storm

Daphne crept into the marketplace wearing one of Negan's t-shirts that just barely covered her ass. The only sound was the bread oven, but thankfully they weren't in plain view of Nicola's stand.

She'd passed out in the penthouse wrapped in bear arms on silk sheets, and awoke a few hours later a little disoriented. She'd rolled over to admire the sleeping King, sprawled out like a frat boy next to her.

She would never admit to anyone how long she'd laid there staring at him, admiring the perfect line of his jaw or the way his soft mouth looked so relaxed in his sleep.

When she remembered how they'd left her dress and boots behind downstairs she'd had a mild panic attack. Of course she hadn't been shown where her new room was either, hence walking around in so little clothes.

"Defiling my bloody work space," Nicola muttered from behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Daphne gasped, whipping around and putting a hand over her chest for effect.

"You use my thread to make those knickers?" The redhead raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "Before you got stuffed on my table?"

"Don't worry Nic, I would never 'stuff' a woman in your sacred work space," Negan drawled, swagger in full force as he rounded the corner. "I undressed her here, but I took her upstairs to enjoy her behind closed fuckin' doors."

"I don't give a rat's arse where you're dogging it as long as it's not in my bloody shop," Nicola snapped, but Daphne saw a ghost of a smile on her face as she swept back behind her table.

The blonde picked up her dress and slipped into it, drawing it up under the t-shirt. Negan watched her with a lopsided grin and laughed when she tossed the shirt at his face.

"How did you get put together so fast?" Daphne asked as she zipped up her boots. "You were fast asleep when I left." 

He had on his signature outfit, complete with jacket, no hint of sleepiness in his bright amber eyes. "I wasn't," he replied, pretending to check his nails casually. "I was fuckin' curious to see where you were sneaking off to with my shirt."

She rolled her eyes. "Well you can show me where my new room is," she instructed, hand on her hip.

"You sure you don't want me to bend you over this nice sturdy fuckin' table?" Negan asked, loudly enough for Nicola to hear.

"Disrespectful wanker," the seamstress grumbled.

Daphne laughed and smacked his arm. "You're such an asshole." 

"Guilty as fuckin' charged." He leaned to the side, lazily motioning for her to walk ahead of him. "Start walking, strawberry, so I can peek at those fine ass knickers on the way up the stairs."

"You have shite taste in men," Nicola called after them, and Negan barked a laugh as he followed his lieutenant out of the marketplace.

Daphne's new room was a far cry from the barracks. She had a double bed, nightstand, wardrobe and couch. It was spacious and simply decorated, with deep green curtains covering the massive windows. She assumed this used to be an office once upon a time from the tiled ceiling.

She also noticed that it was directly beside the sitting area where they'd encountered Simon the night before.

"Am I close enough to hear Arat and Simon trying to have wheelchair sex?" she asked as she stripped out of her meagre clothes.

"If you get sick of listening to it, you're very fuckin' welcome to come sleep up in my room," Negan grinned as he flopped down on the couch. He eyed her pert tits as she dug through the sack of clothes on her bed for a towel.

She recovered her toiletry bag that was buried in the bottom and turned around to find him standing right behind her.

"Bathrooms are three doors down on the left," he said, voice low. 

Her heart thudded at his closeness and she cursed her hormones. They'd spent almost more time fucking around than not in the last twenty four hours and this attraction didn't show any signs of ebbing.

"You should probably clean yourself up too." Daphne smirked. "You smell like-"

He cut her off by capturing her lips in a mind numbing kiss, their arms slipping around each other easily. She tasted a hint of herself in his mouth and she moaned, the memory of torturous pleasure flitting through her brain.

A static-laden click broke through their haze, and Negan pulled back at the cheery voice that rang over the walkie talkie clipped to his belt.

"Morning, lovely bitches!" Regina trilled. "I come bearing gifts!"

Daphne chuckled at the flamboyant woman's greeting.

"Welcome back, doll," Negan replied into the handheld machine. "I'd come open the fuckin' door myself but I have to wash all the pussy off of my face." He grinned wolfishly down at his naked companion.

"Don't let me interrupt your breakfast, o wonderful leader of mine!" Regina laughed. "Little Joey's got the door like a perfect gentleman."

"Little fuckin' Joey," he scoffed as he clipped the talkie back onto his belt. He ran a finger over Daphne's nipple and she danced away, wrapping the towel around herself.

"I'm actually looking forward to real breakfast," she said, stomach growling as if to accentuate her point. "And if we start this now we'll miss it and I might die of starvation before lunch."

Negan barked a laugh, and turned to open the door for her. "I cannot deny my fuckin' lady her sustenance," he said with a regal bow. "Enjoy your shower. I'll be fuckin' picturing it."

Daphne paused on her way past him, reaching up to ghost her lips over his ear. "You'd better have your hand wrapped around your cock while you do," she whispered, and then sashayed off down the hallway.

He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her graceful gait. This woman was going to be the death of him.