Fic: Break Me Open: Dean/OFC - NC-17
Title: Break Me Open
Author: mgbutterfly
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Dean/OFC
Disclaimer: Dean does not belong to me. If he did, we'd never see the light of day.
Summary: He lowers his lips to her ear and his voice is a seductive rumble when he says, "You like the knife." It's not a question. Dean slips the edge of the knife under the top button of Marie's uniform dress and barely flicks his wrist to pop the button off.
Beta!Bitch:sardonicsmiley. I can't even tell y'all how much I love this woman. EPIC!
Author's Notes: Oh my god, you guys... this is het. It's PWP HET! I'm pretty sure it sucks and no one should read it. Except spitfiregrrrl for whom it was written. I love you, mei mei. I hope this is what you wanted. Also? I'm pretty sure this is the one and only time I'll ever write het. Because, yeah... like I said... it probably sucks. Title from Poe's Wild.
Warnings: Knife!Kink, Breath play, HET!
Marie rolls her eyes as the guy walks into her diner; walks in like he owns the fucking place. And wouldn't it just figure he'd sit in her section. She rolls her eyes again and pulls the pen out of the lose bun of dark hair gathered at the back of her head and strolls over to his table.
"Getcha something to drink?" She tries to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but she's not sure she's done a very good job of it.
The guy looks up at her slowly - she can practically feel his gaze floating over her almost-too-big hips and breasts. It makes her feel a little self conscious - and when his eyes reach her face, he cocks an eyebrow and his lips twitch up on one side. When he speaks, his voice is deeper than she thought it would be. And regardless of her first impression, that voice travels straight to a spot low in her belly. "Hmm, yeah. I'll take a drink. Just water for now," he eyeballs her name tag, "Marie. That's a pretty name."
She feel a little warm all of a sudden and clears her throat, "Thanks, I'll be right back with your water."
Marie walks away tucking her note pad into the pocket of her apron and the pen back into her bun. She wipes her hands down the front of her apron telling herself it's just to smooth the wrinkles out. Her hands aren't sweating at all. Filling up a glass, Marie takes a deep breath and walks back over to his table. She sets the water down in front of the guy, clears her throat and quirks an eyebrow up at him, "Our breakfast special today is two eggs, hashbrowns, your choice of bacon or sausage, and two buttermilk biscuits smothered in white gravy. Do you know what you'd like or do you need another minute?" She has his undivided attention, and the wave of heat rolling up her spine sends a prickle to her scalp. His eyes are the greenest she's ever seen, not that she's seen many green eyes at all, but yeah. Green. His lips are the type that could speak the sweetest, dirtiest sins into your ear then follow up by laying those sins down onto, hell, into, your skin. He is looking directly at her, only her, and she feels an unwanted flush creep into her cheeks.
He purses his lips and sticks his chin out slightly and says, "I'll have some coffee, and the special, please."
"Bacon or sausage?" Marie asks, pulling out her pen and pad.
"Bacon."
"How would you like your eggs? Scrambled? Over easy?" Marie is a little shocked at the overall tone of her voice. It's gone a little throaty, breathy, and she can't seem to control the undertone of suggestion.
The guy's lips part subtly and Marie can see the pink of his tongue peeking through. His voice is pitched low, as if revealing some sweet secret only for her, "Over easy."
Marie clears her throat and looks pointedly at her writing pad. Jotting down his order, she's careful not to let him see the slight quiver (yes, quiver, fuck you very much) in her hands, "I'll uh, I'll get that right out for you. Oh. Cream for your coffee?"
The guy smiles lazily and says, "No cream for me."
Marie stands there for a moment just looking at him before mentally shaking herself. As she walks away, she can feel his eyes on her. And god damn, those eyes burn. In the best way.
After delivering his coffee, Marie makes it a point to check on him only as often as absolutely necessary. After his fourth cup of coffee, he politely asks for his check and when she places it on the table, he covers her hand with his and says, "Thank you, Marie. It's been... a pleasure."
Marie stands, her hand under his, her mouth slightly agape, just staring at the guy. After a moment that seems to her to last far too long, she slips her hand from beneath his and says, "Thank you. Hope to see you again." She gives him a little smile as she leaves the table and walks out the back door.
What the fuck, Marie? Hope to see you again? You're an idiot. Way to play it cool. You fell, hook, line and sinker for his little game. SNAP OUT OF IT! Jesus. Fucking pretty boy. Marie sits another moment on the crates behind the diner, just to be sure he's gone, before she goes back inside. The diner is slow this morning, and when she walks back through the back door she goes straight to his table to collect the money he'd left. On his bill, he's written his name and number. Marie stuffs the money (and the bill) in her apron and walks to the front window in time to watch him slip into his car.
Marie's head goes a little swimmy at this point. Jesus Fuck, the car is as hot, maybe hotter than, the guy. Dean. She reminds herself his name is Dean. Not that she's ever gonna call the number, but it's nice to have a name to go with a face. You know, for personal reasons. When he turns the engine over, Marie's mouth goes all lose and open again. The rumble it sends through her feet up to her, well, up to her scalp, makes a little noise escape her lips.
"Sweet ride, eh, Marie?" Joe is standing behind her, eyeballing the car.
Her voice is entirely too breathy when she says, "Yeah. Sweet."
Joe gives her a sideways look and grins, "What? It's a nice car. Don't look at me like that, Joe. Don't forget I can still kick your ass."
Joe smiles and walks away shaking his head. Marie turns back to watch Dean drive away in that car and can't pull her eyes away when he turns his head and looks right at her. She gives herself another mental shake and walks back to take care of her one other table.
~ -|- ~
Marie's shift ends at two in the afternoon. She lives near the diner, so she makes it a habit to walk to and from work. It's a pleasant walk, passing the corner drug store, a few little shops and the motel at the end of the block.
She stops walking when she starts to pass the motel; there is that car, and leaning under the hood in jeans and a thin gray t-shirt is Dean. Marie means to keep walking. She really means to just pass on by, go home, start some laundry, maybe bake a pie. Hell, she has things to do this afternoon. As soon as she sees that car, she stops right in the pull-in for the parking lot. She doesn't realize there's a car trying to pull in until the driver honks his horn making her practically jump out of her skin.
Marie turns bright red as she moves out of the way and realizes that Dean is staring at her from under the hood of that car. She flashes him a grin and starts to turn away when he yells her name. Slightly startled, Marie turns back to Dean to see him waving her over. She pauses, thinking things over in her head. Just be polite and go say hello. That's it. Just hello.
She walks over to Dean, her white tennis shoes making hardly a sound on the concrete, "Hi, um.. Dean, right? Nice car." That's good, Marie. Make him think you maybe forgot. Talk about the car. Nice.
"Hi, Marie." Dean smiles at her. He has a smear of grease on his left cheekbone, his shirt is sticking to his chest, (no doubt slick with sweat) and Since I've Been Loving You is playing quietly inside the car. "'67 Impala. It was my dad's."
Marie licks her lips and says, "I love this song. That man can sing." She forces herself to take a deep breath then, realizing that maybe she'd stopped breathing altogether.
Dean cocks a smile at her and closes the hood of the Impala. He walks around to the driver's side door, reaches in and turns the music up just a tad. Marie looks around the parking lot, realizes they are the only two people outside and says, "I don't want to keep you. I'm sure you're busy with the tune-up or whatever. It was nice to see you again. See ya around."
She starts to turn to continue her walk home when Dean speaks up, "Marie, I was wondering, you wanna go for a ride?"
And just like that, Marie turns into an idiot. She doesn't think about it, there's not a moment's hesitation, she just says, "Yeah. Sure."
Dean grins and walks around to open the passenger door for her. Marie slides into the car and watches as Dean closes her door and walks back around to get into the driver's seat. As soon as he closes his door Marie has a moment of panic. She looks around at the interior of the car and notices how beautifully clean it is. She takes her chances and reaches out and opens the glove box. Dean watches her scan and politely rummage through the contents then close it back up. He cocks an eyebrow and says, "Satisfied? I promise I'm not a serial killer."
"That's probably exactly what a serial killer would say." Marie relaxes back into the seat and stretches her legs out. She's not particularly tall, somewhere around 5' 5" or 5' 6" she figures, but it feels good to have all the room to move around. "So, how long you in town for?"
Dean looks over at her as he starts up the engine and it's all Marie can do to keep her eyes open and face calm. She feels the rumble move through her, starting in her pelvis and moving around to vibrate into her spine. She must not be doing a very good job of hiding the pleasure on her face because Dean decides to rev the engine as he says, "Just tonight, Marie. Just tonight." He puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking space.
Marie licks her lips, pretty much resigned to the fact that she's played right into his little seduction, (and damn well okay with that) and gives Dean her best bedroom eyes, "So, uh, what brings you to our little burg? I mean, there's not much here."
Dean puts the car into drive and starts out on the road. He looks so relaxed, so perfectly at ease, driving this beauty. "Just passing through. Meeting my dad a few states over. Needed to check her oil, keep her running smooth. How 'bout you? How'd you end up here."
"Oh, you know... just looking for something different. I guess I found it." Marie lifts her hand to the stereo to turn up the volume, "Do you mind?"
"Go right ahead." Dean smiles that same smile. It's really starting to drive Marie up the wall. Or against one. Whatever.
She turns up the volume and relaxes against the seat again. With the music louder she figures it will eliminate the need for small talk. Although, she does really enjoy his voice. Maybe she'll turn it down again just to get him to speak.
As if Dean hears her thoughts, he starts singing along to Led Zeppelin. And forget about the speaking voice, Dean can sing to her all night for all she cares. He is right on key and god damn if that's not about the sexiest thing in the world.
Marie is kind of lost in the rumble of the engine when Dean says, "Can I take you home?" She looks over at him and considers her answer for a moment. When Dean raises an eyebrow and smirks at her, her mind is made up, "Yes. I'd like that." Marie gives Dean a smirk of her own.
Marie guides Dean to her house, a small bungalow style cottage on the edge of town. He pulls into the driveway and Marie starts to open her door but then turns to face him, "You should come inside," she clears her throat, "have a beer?" Marie opens the door and steps out of the car hoping Dean will follow. A breath later, the engine clicks off and Dean is getting out as well. Marie smiles over at him and leads the way into the house.
Just inside the door, she tosses her keys on a small side table and empties the pockets on her apron. She turns to find Dean leaning in the doorway watching her. She faces him as she unties her apron and hangs it on a hook above the table. She reaches out to touch the wall as she toes off her shoes and pushes them under the table, "Come on in. I'll go get that beer. Harp, okay?"
Dean steps inside as she's turning to go toward the kitchen. She hears him say, "Harp is great." as the door closes behind him. Marie pulls two beers from the fridge, pops them open and walks into the cozy living room near the front door. Dean is already sitting on the couch, leaning back with his arms thrown over the back. He sits forward when Marie offers a beer and she watches the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows a long pull.
Marie looks around for a moment and decides to sit down in her chair instead of on the couch. The chair is safe. The chair is not too close, just far enough away, so that she doesn't seem, well, easy. Dean watches her and she catches a smile. She takes a swig of beer and decides the silence is too awkward. Setting the beer down on the coffee table, Marie stands up and says, "I'm gonna put some music on. Any requests?"
Dean shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and Marie walks into the kitchen to a travel stereo she keeps near the cutting board. She flips through the music on her iPod and finds an appropriate playlist and hits play. When she turns around, Dean is standing in the door way, he's taken his shoes and socks off and the look in his eyes is positively predatory. Marie inhales a deep breath as Dean starts to walk toward her. She doesn't move, can't, and when Dean puts his hands on her waist and pulls her against his chest she gets a little dizzy.
Dean kisses her. It's not at all what Marie expects. She expects hard, forceful, taking; she gets soft, gentle, searching. Dean starts walking her backward until she's against the wall. He pulls away for a moment and Marie rests her head back against the wall and closes her eyes. She feels Dean bend down and hears the sound of Velcro being undone. Marie opens her eyes and watches Dean remove a fairly large bowie knife from around his ankle. He sets it on the table next to them and says, "I'll leave it here."
Marie is looking from the knife to Dean. Oh, Jesus on a crutch, it's a pretty knife; rosewood handle, looks like full a tang four inch blade, brass quillon; her eyes go dark, her pupils dilating until almost all the blue is gone from her irises. Marie licks her lips and pulls Dean in for another kiss, this one more desperate than the last. Dean's right hand is holding her against the wall at her shoulder. Marie feels him move his other hand to the table and hears the knife being pulled free of its leather sheath.
Dean pulls the knife up to Maire's chest. He lowers his lips to her ear and his voice is a seductive rumble when he says, "You like the knife." It's not a question. Dean slips the edge of the knife under the top button of Marie's uniform dress and barely flicks his wrist to pop the button off. Marie isn't a petite flower and her uniform top is already almost too small to keep her tits completely concealed. As soon as the button flies free, the top spreads open revealing the edge of Marie's white lace bra and cleavage. Dean leers at her, holding the knife point at the edge of the newly open fabric. Marie's breath quickens, her chest rising dangerously close to the knife point.
Dean pulls the knife up and flattens its dull edge against her throat. Marie's eyes flutter shut at the cool touch of metal and her hands grasp for purchase on the wall behind her. Dean whispers in her ear, lips so close she feels their silky moisture on her earlobe, "Gonna cut every button. And when I'm done?" Dean's right hand moves from Marie's shoulder to the hem of her uniform and then slips up underneath it and he hooks a finger through her panties, "I'm gonna cut these off. You like that? Hmmm, Marie?"
"Fuck. Yeah." It's all Marie can muster at the moment. She can feel Dean's smile against her ear and his chuckle rumbles through her body sending a chill down her spine. Dean drags the knife along Marie's throat and passes it to his right hand. He lowers his lips to her neck and starts to bite-suck just over her jugular. Marie raises her right hand, needing to grab onto something, anything, and fists it in Dean's shirt. She pulls at the fabric as Dean lowers the knife to her dress buttons again, popping the next one without any warning.
When Dean goes for the third button, he tips the knife slightly too far in and nicks Marie's skin just below-between her tits. She's surprised and the sensation sends a current directly to her groin. Marie sucks in a breath and tips her head back against the wall. Dean pops the next button and lowers his lips to the tiny cut. He laps away the blood beading there and goes on to release the next six buttons in quick succession.
Marie's heart is pounding in her chest and her cunt is pulsing between her thighs. She's grasping at Dean's shirt, desperate to get it off of him, desperate to feel the skin against skin. Dean is true to his word, and cuts every one of her fifteen buttons off, each one falling to the hardwood floor with a synthetic chime. Marie is standing, pressed against the wall in her kitchen, with her uniform dress spread open and Dean holding the knife in his right hand watching her. She's looking directly into his eyes as he slides the knife up her thigh, slowly, pressing every few inches and drawing blood.
Dean goes to his knees and Marie thinks hers are going to go out on her. Dean is sliding his left hand down her body and when he's kneeling on the floor in front of Marie, he slides the knife the rest of the way up her thigh and under the side of her green panties. He presses it into her hip, the once cool metal now warm with body heat, and turns the knife so that the sharpened blade is pressed against the fabric. He looks up at Marie and pulls the handle of the knife up, cleanly cutting the flimsy fabric away. Dean leans to his right and starts to lick away the little trail of blood down Marie's thigh left by the knife. He slips her now ruined underwear down her right leg then slides his hand back up to rest on her hip.
Marie's legs are ready to give out. She's not sure if she can remain standing much longer. She makes a moaning noise in the back of her throat as Dean licks at her left thigh. Marie puts her right hand in Dean's hair and gently tugs, hoping he'll get the message.
He does, and a moment later, Dean is coming to his feet, still fully clothed, knife in hand. He licks his lips and pulls his bottom lip through his teeth and slips Marie's dress off her shoulders. It slides to the floor with a gentle rustling sound. Dean presses in close to Marie, pulling her off the wall, and unhooks her bra. He uses the knife to pull the straps off her shoulders and he lets the lace fall to the floor to join all the rest of Marie's clothing.
Marie leans back against the wall and stares at Dean, "Well, this is hardly fair. Put the knife down, Dean." Her voice is breathy but commanding.
Dean smiles and puts the knife down on the table. As soon as his hands are free, Marie grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head. She pulls him against her by the waistband of his jeans and kisses him, finally getting the skin contact she's been needing. As they kiss, tongues searching each other's mouths and lips, Marie undoes Dean's jeans. Before she can shimmy down his body to get his pants off, Dean grabs her hands at the wrists and presses them against the wall next to her head. He's flush against her, one of his knees is between her legs, and he presses her further into the wall. Dean's not kissing anymore. He's not even licking. He's just breathing over Marie's skin. His breath tickles her neck, it raises goosebumps across her chest. Dean lowers his head to her right breast and flicks the very tip of his tongue out on her nipple. Marie bucks into Dean's leg and Dean's mouth hovers, breathing warm, moist air, over Marie's nipple.
"Oh, god. Dean. Please." And god damn it, Dean has her begging.
Dean pulls Marie off the wall, turns her around and forces her down onto the table. Her ass is resting on the edge with her legs hanging off, Dean's leaning down over her with a vicious grin on his lips. He says, "Put your hands above your head and hold the edge of the table, Marie." So she does. And fuck she loves the sound of her name on his lips. Dean rises off of her and pulls a chair up to the table. Marie thinks, My god. He's gonna eat me. Oh, fuck. Oh, he's gonna eat me.
Dean is sitting in the chair between Marie's thighs. He lifts her left leg over his right shoulder gently and pulls her right foot up to rest on his left thigh. Marie has never felt so vulnerable in her life. And right now, she doesn't care. She just wants Dean's mouth on her pussy so bad it aches. She doesn't have to wait long until she feels Dean's breath ghosting over her clit. Dean's hands come up and hold her thighs apart and the first tentative lick across her swollen lips coaxes a groan from somewhere deep inside Marie.
Dean's tongue lightly licks just under the hood of Marie's clit, wet and firm strokes pulling moans out of Marie. He paints tiny circles and broad stripes as Marie grips the table and tries not to lift her hips closer to Dean's mouth. Dean's right hand starts to caress her thigh and slowly move toward her opening. Dean's thumb is barely tracing over Marie's labia. Dean closes his mouth over Marie's clit and sucks a gentle bite into the tender flesh and at the same time, slips his thumb into Marie's cunt.
Marie sucks in a breath and moans, pumping herself down onto Dean's thumb and coming with an uncontrollable seizing deep in her belly. Dean pulls his thumb out, but continues to lick, softer now, using the flat surface of his tongue. His hands glide up Maire's body and find her tits, kneading and pinching her nipples gently. Dean keeps licking broad strokes up Marie's cunt, working her through the hypersensitivity after her orgasm. His movements are slow, languid, and Marie feels like she's the only woman in the world to ever experience anything quite like this.
Dean moves his right hand off Marie's breast and lets it rest on her left thigh. Marie's clit has lost some of it's over-sensitivity now and she's relaxed back into the table. Dean's tongue moves from her labia back to her clit and he lets his finger slip inside slowly. Marie bites her lip and lets a short moan escape. Dean works his tongue over her clit while his finger moves in and out of her body making wet, slippery noises.
After what seems like too long/not long enough, Dean raises his head, finger still moving slowly inside Marie, and he hovers over her. His lips are parted and swollen, his chin is wet from eating her out and there's a flush to his cheeks that makes Marie let go of the table and pull him down into a kiss. She tastes herself on his lips and moans into his mouth as his tongue slips inside.
Dean pulls away and slowly slips his finger free from Marie. She bites her lip, knowing that she wants to protest the sudden absence. Dean's jeans are still clinging to his hips and Marie can see the hard line of his cock beneath his boxer briefs. He smiles and reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his wallet and then opens it to pull out the condom tucked away there. Marie smiles and thinks, responsible, too..
Dean puts his wallet back into his back pocket then pushes his jeans and boxers down to the floor. Marie raises up to her elbows and watches him as Dean slips the condom over his (not unimpressive) cock. Dean leans over Marie and presses his left hand against her chest to lay her back against the table once again. He lifts her legs to wrap around his waist and the head of his cock rests against Marie's cunt as if it's been trained where to go. Marie's breath is shallow and quick. Her nerves are on end, she's tense and excited and she's sure she's shaking beneath Dean.
Dean lowers his lips to hers and kisses gently, the head of his cock still poised at Marie's entrance. When he pulls back from the kiss he says, "Relax, Marie. Relax." And she does. Marie takes a deep breath and Dean licks her neck. He begins to press into her and Marie's legs tighten around Dean's middle. When the head of his cock pushes through, Dean bits Marie's neck and slowly guides himself in, only stopping when there's nothing left to push.
Marie brings her hands up and threads her fingers through Dean's hair. He's not moving, only nipping against her neck, breathing hot over the little bites, and she's never felt this full. Dean slides his cock out almost all the way then slowly drives it back into her. His thrusts are slow and long. He bites and sucks at her neck and lips and tits and it's all Marie can do not to come apart completely.
Dean rests his lips by Marie's ear and says, "So hot. You're so fucking hot, Marie. Wanna fuck you all night. You want that? You want me to fuck you all night?"
Marie's not sure, but she thinks she says, "Yes, oh god yes. Dean."
Dean's thrusts quicken, they're still smooth and deep, but not as slow. Marie is scratching her nails down his back and Dean growls and she feels the vibration throughout her body. He fists his left hand tightly in her hair, forcing her neck to arch back and expose her throat. Dean's right hand is on her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple. He moves it, slides it down her side, and meets her eyes when his thumb starts its slow circles on her clit. Marie's hips jump at the touch and Dean's hips piston, driving his dick deep inside. Marie yelps then breaths out quick and harsh as Dean fucks into her smoothly.
Dean's thumb is tracing circles around Marie's clit and Marie can feel the warmth and tension pooling low in her abdomen. She's meeting Dean's thrusts with her own, but they're starting to falter. Dean slows then comes to a stop deep inside Marie. He's back at her ear, his breathing loud and warm, when he starts his short thrusts, staying deep, pumping quickly. With every pump, a moan is pulled from Marie's lips. Dean is making the sexiest noises she's ever heard. She feels his moans deep in her chest, deep in her cunt.
Dean turns his head toward Marie's, his lips soft on her ear and he says, "That's my good girl, Marie. Come for me. Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come."
Marie arches her back and the spasm rips through her body. Her hips piston to swallow all of Dean's cock, buried deep inside her. Her fingers dig into Dean's back and she hears him groan in time to his thrusts. The sharp waves of pleasure course through Marie and she feels Dean tense up just before he comes. As Marie comes down from her orgasm, Dean is just beginning his. He pumps into her almost violently as the spasms take over his body.
When he stills, Marie's legs still wrapped around his waist, Dean relaxes against Marie's chest. She can feel him smiling into her neck. Marie unwraps her legs and lets them fall on either side of Dean's. After a moment, Dean raises off and out of Marie. The sudden absence is too much and Marie makes a little whining noise that she'll later deny. Dean smiles down at her as he pulls the condom off and ties it in a knot and tosses it into the little kitchen trashcan.
"I wasn't kidding, you know." Dean's skin is flushed with warmth and an after-sex glow. Marie looks up at him from the table and asks, "About what?" She props herself up on her elbows.
Dean smirks, "Fucking you all night." He holds out his hand to help Marie up. Dean pulls her off the table top and her legs feel like jelly. She stands for a moment, trying to get her bearings, and apparently Dean can see how unsteady she is because he pulls her in to rest against his chest.
Once she's steady, Dean lets go of her and bends to remove his jeans and boxers completely, "So? Whadda say?" He tosses his clothes into a pile with Marie's.
Marie smiles and shakes her head. She raises an eyebrow at Dean and grabs his hand to drag him into her bedroom.
Author: mgbutterfly
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Dean/OFC
Disclaimer: Dean does not belong to me. If he did, we'd never see the light of day.
Summary: He lowers his lips to her ear and his voice is a seductive rumble when he says, "You like the knife." It's not a question. Dean slips the edge of the knife under the top button of Marie's uniform dress and barely flicks his wrist to pop the button off.
Beta!Bitch:sardonicsmiley. I can't even tell y'all how much I love this woman. EPIC!
Author's Notes: Oh my god, you guys... this is het. It's PWP HET! I'm pretty sure it sucks and no one should read it. Except spitfiregrrrl for whom it was written. I love you, mei mei. I hope this is what you wanted. Also? I'm pretty sure this is the one and only time I'll ever write het. Because, yeah... like I said... it probably sucks. Title from Poe's Wild.
Warnings: Knife!Kink, Breath play, HET!
Marie rolls her eyes as the guy walks into her diner; walks in like he owns the fucking place. And wouldn't it just figure he'd sit in her section. She rolls her eyes again and pulls the pen out of the lose bun of dark hair gathered at the back of her head and strolls over to his table.
"Getcha something to drink?" She tries to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but she's not sure she's done a very good job of it.
The guy looks up at her slowly - she can practically feel his gaze floating over her almost-too-big hips and breasts. It makes her feel a little self conscious - and when his eyes reach her face, he cocks an eyebrow and his lips twitch up on one side. When he speaks, his voice is deeper than she thought it would be. And regardless of her first impression, that voice travels straight to a spot low in her belly. "Hmm, yeah. I'll take a drink. Just water for now," he eyeballs her name tag, "Marie. That's a pretty name."
She feel a little warm all of a sudden and clears her throat, "Thanks, I'll be right back with your water."
Marie walks away tucking her note pad into the pocket of her apron and the pen back into her bun. She wipes her hands down the front of her apron telling herself it's just to smooth the wrinkles out. Her hands aren't sweating at all. Filling up a glass, Marie takes a deep breath and walks back over to his table. She sets the water down in front of the guy, clears her throat and quirks an eyebrow up at him, "Our breakfast special today is two eggs, hashbrowns, your choice of bacon or sausage, and two buttermilk biscuits smothered in white gravy. Do you know what you'd like or do you need another minute?" She has his undivided attention, and the wave of heat rolling up her spine sends a prickle to her scalp. His eyes are the greenest she's ever seen, not that she's seen many green eyes at all, but yeah. Green. His lips are the type that could speak the sweetest, dirtiest sins into your ear then follow up by laying those sins down onto, hell, into, your skin. He is looking directly at her, only her, and she feels an unwanted flush creep into her cheeks.
He purses his lips and sticks his chin out slightly and says, "I'll have some coffee, and the special, please."
"Bacon or sausage?" Marie asks, pulling out her pen and pad.
"Bacon."
"How would you like your eggs? Scrambled? Over easy?" Marie is a little shocked at the overall tone of her voice. It's gone a little throaty, breathy, and she can't seem to control the undertone of suggestion.
The guy's lips part subtly and Marie can see the pink of his tongue peeking through. His voice is pitched low, as if revealing some sweet secret only for her, "Over easy."
Marie clears her throat and looks pointedly at her writing pad. Jotting down his order, she's careful not to let him see the slight quiver (yes, quiver, fuck you very much) in her hands, "I'll uh, I'll get that right out for you. Oh. Cream for your coffee?"
The guy smiles lazily and says, "No cream for me."
Marie stands there for a moment just looking at him before mentally shaking herself. As she walks away, she can feel his eyes on her. And god damn, those eyes burn. In the best way.
After delivering his coffee, Marie makes it a point to check on him only as often as absolutely necessary. After his fourth cup of coffee, he politely asks for his check and when she places it on the table, he covers her hand with his and says, "Thank you, Marie. It's been... a pleasure."
Marie stands, her hand under his, her mouth slightly agape, just staring at the guy. After a moment that seems to her to last far too long, she slips her hand from beneath his and says, "Thank you. Hope to see you again." She gives him a little smile as she leaves the table and walks out the back door.
What the fuck, Marie? Hope to see you again? You're an idiot. Way to play it cool. You fell, hook, line and sinker for his little game. SNAP OUT OF IT! Jesus. Fucking pretty boy. Marie sits another moment on the crates behind the diner, just to be sure he's gone, before she goes back inside. The diner is slow this morning, and when she walks back through the back door she goes straight to his table to collect the money he'd left. On his bill, he's written his name and number. Marie stuffs the money (and the bill) in her apron and walks to the front window in time to watch him slip into his car.
Marie's head goes a little swimmy at this point. Jesus Fuck, the car is as hot, maybe hotter than, the guy. Dean. She reminds herself his name is Dean. Not that she's ever gonna call the number, but it's nice to have a name to go with a face. You know, for personal reasons. When he turns the engine over, Marie's mouth goes all lose and open again. The rumble it sends through her feet up to her, well, up to her scalp, makes a little noise escape her lips.
"Sweet ride, eh, Marie?" Joe is standing behind her, eyeballing the car.
Her voice is entirely too breathy when she says, "Yeah. Sweet."
Joe gives her a sideways look and grins, "What? It's a nice car. Don't look at me like that, Joe. Don't forget I can still kick your ass."
Joe smiles and walks away shaking his head. Marie turns back to watch Dean drive away in that car and can't pull her eyes away when he turns his head and looks right at her. She gives herself another mental shake and walks back to take care of her one other table.
~ -|- ~
Marie's shift ends at two in the afternoon. She lives near the diner, so she makes it a habit to walk to and from work. It's a pleasant walk, passing the corner drug store, a few little shops and the motel at the end of the block.
She stops walking when she starts to pass the motel; there is that car, and leaning under the hood in jeans and a thin gray t-shirt is Dean. Marie means to keep walking. She really means to just pass on by, go home, start some laundry, maybe bake a pie. Hell, she has things to do this afternoon. As soon as she sees that car, she stops right in the pull-in for the parking lot. She doesn't realize there's a car trying to pull in until the driver honks his horn making her practically jump out of her skin.
Marie turns bright red as she moves out of the way and realizes that Dean is staring at her from under the hood of that car. She flashes him a grin and starts to turn away when he yells her name. Slightly startled, Marie turns back to Dean to see him waving her over. She pauses, thinking things over in her head. Just be polite and go say hello. That's it. Just hello.
She walks over to Dean, her white tennis shoes making hardly a sound on the concrete, "Hi, um.. Dean, right? Nice car." That's good, Marie. Make him think you maybe forgot. Talk about the car. Nice.
"Hi, Marie." Dean smiles at her. He has a smear of grease on his left cheekbone, his shirt is sticking to his chest, (no doubt slick with sweat) and Since I've Been Loving You is playing quietly inside the car. "'67 Impala. It was my dad's."
Marie licks her lips and says, "I love this song. That man can sing." She forces herself to take a deep breath then, realizing that maybe she'd stopped breathing altogether.
Dean cocks a smile at her and closes the hood of the Impala. He walks around to the driver's side door, reaches in and turns the music up just a tad. Marie looks around the parking lot, realizes they are the only two people outside and says, "I don't want to keep you. I'm sure you're busy with the tune-up or whatever. It was nice to see you again. See ya around."
She starts to turn to continue her walk home when Dean speaks up, "Marie, I was wondering, you wanna go for a ride?"
And just like that, Marie turns into an idiot. She doesn't think about it, there's not a moment's hesitation, she just says, "Yeah. Sure."
Dean grins and walks around to open the passenger door for her. Marie slides into the car and watches as Dean closes her door and walks back around to get into the driver's seat. As soon as he closes his door Marie has a moment of panic. She looks around at the interior of the car and notices how beautifully clean it is. She takes her chances and reaches out and opens the glove box. Dean watches her scan and politely rummage through the contents then close it back up. He cocks an eyebrow and says, "Satisfied? I promise I'm not a serial killer."
"That's probably exactly what a serial killer would say." Marie relaxes back into the seat and stretches her legs out. She's not particularly tall, somewhere around 5' 5" or 5' 6" she figures, but it feels good to have all the room to move around. "So, how long you in town for?"
Dean looks over at her as he starts up the engine and it's all Marie can do to keep her eyes open and face calm. She feels the rumble move through her, starting in her pelvis and moving around to vibrate into her spine. She must not be doing a very good job of hiding the pleasure on her face because Dean decides to rev the engine as he says, "Just tonight, Marie. Just tonight." He puts the car in reverse and backs out of the parking space.
Marie licks her lips, pretty much resigned to the fact that she's played right into his little seduction, (and damn well okay with that) and gives Dean her best bedroom eyes, "So, uh, what brings you to our little burg? I mean, there's not much here."
Dean puts the car into drive and starts out on the road. He looks so relaxed, so perfectly at ease, driving this beauty. "Just passing through. Meeting my dad a few states over. Needed to check her oil, keep her running smooth. How 'bout you? How'd you end up here."
"Oh, you know... just looking for something different. I guess I found it." Marie lifts her hand to the stereo to turn up the volume, "Do you mind?"
"Go right ahead." Dean smiles that same smile. It's really starting to drive Marie up the wall. Or against one. Whatever.
She turns up the volume and relaxes against the seat again. With the music louder she figures it will eliminate the need for small talk. Although, she does really enjoy his voice. Maybe she'll turn it down again just to get him to speak.
As if Dean hears her thoughts, he starts singing along to Led Zeppelin. And forget about the speaking voice, Dean can sing to her all night for all she cares. He is right on key and god damn if that's not about the sexiest thing in the world.
Marie is kind of lost in the rumble of the engine when Dean says, "Can I take you home?" She looks over at him and considers her answer for a moment. When Dean raises an eyebrow and smirks at her, her mind is made up, "Yes. I'd like that." Marie gives Dean a smirk of her own.
Marie guides Dean to her house, a small bungalow style cottage on the edge of town. He pulls into the driveway and Marie starts to open her door but then turns to face him, "You should come inside," she clears her throat, "have a beer?" Marie opens the door and steps out of the car hoping Dean will follow. A breath later, the engine clicks off and Dean is getting out as well. Marie smiles over at him and leads the way into the house.
Just inside the door, she tosses her keys on a small side table and empties the pockets on her apron. She turns to find Dean leaning in the doorway watching her. She faces him as she unties her apron and hangs it on a hook above the table. She reaches out to touch the wall as she toes off her shoes and pushes them under the table, "Come on in. I'll go get that beer. Harp, okay?"
Dean steps inside as she's turning to go toward the kitchen. She hears him say, "Harp is great." as the door closes behind him. Marie pulls two beers from the fridge, pops them open and walks into the cozy living room near the front door. Dean is already sitting on the couch, leaning back with his arms thrown over the back. He sits forward when Marie offers a beer and she watches the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows a long pull.
Marie looks around for a moment and decides to sit down in her chair instead of on the couch. The chair is safe. The chair is not too close, just far enough away, so that she doesn't seem, well, easy. Dean watches her and she catches a smile. She takes a swig of beer and decides the silence is too awkward. Setting the beer down on the coffee table, Marie stands up and says, "I'm gonna put some music on. Any requests?"
Dean shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and Marie walks into the kitchen to a travel stereo she keeps near the cutting board. She flips through the music on her iPod and finds an appropriate playlist and hits play. When she turns around, Dean is standing in the door way, he's taken his shoes and socks off and the look in his eyes is positively predatory. Marie inhales a deep breath as Dean starts to walk toward her. She doesn't move, can't, and when Dean puts his hands on her waist and pulls her against his chest she gets a little dizzy.
Dean kisses her. It's not at all what Marie expects. She expects hard, forceful, taking; she gets soft, gentle, searching. Dean starts walking her backward until she's against the wall. He pulls away for a moment and Marie rests her head back against the wall and closes her eyes. She feels Dean bend down and hears the sound of Velcro being undone. Marie opens her eyes and watches Dean remove a fairly large bowie knife from around his ankle. He sets it on the table next to them and says, "I'll leave it here."
Marie is looking from the knife to Dean. Oh, Jesus on a crutch, it's a pretty knife; rosewood handle, looks like full a tang four inch blade, brass quillon; her eyes go dark, her pupils dilating until almost all the blue is gone from her irises. Marie licks her lips and pulls Dean in for another kiss, this one more desperate than the last. Dean's right hand is holding her against the wall at her shoulder. Marie feels him move his other hand to the table and hears the knife being pulled free of its leather sheath.
Dean pulls the knife up to Maire's chest. He lowers his lips to her ear and his voice is a seductive rumble when he says, "You like the knife." It's not a question. Dean slips the edge of the knife under the top button of Marie's uniform dress and barely flicks his wrist to pop the button off. Marie isn't a petite flower and her uniform top is already almost too small to keep her tits completely concealed. As soon as the button flies free, the top spreads open revealing the edge of Marie's white lace bra and cleavage. Dean leers at her, holding the knife point at the edge of the newly open fabric. Marie's breath quickens, her chest rising dangerously close to the knife point.
Dean pulls the knife up and flattens its dull edge against her throat. Marie's eyes flutter shut at the cool touch of metal and her hands grasp for purchase on the wall behind her. Dean whispers in her ear, lips so close she feels their silky moisture on her earlobe, "Gonna cut every button. And when I'm done?" Dean's right hand moves from Marie's shoulder to the hem of her uniform and then slips up underneath it and he hooks a finger through her panties, "I'm gonna cut these off. You like that? Hmmm, Marie?"
"Fuck. Yeah." It's all Marie can muster at the moment. She can feel Dean's smile against her ear and his chuckle rumbles through her body sending a chill down her spine. Dean drags the knife along Marie's throat and passes it to his right hand. He lowers his lips to her neck and starts to bite-suck just over her jugular. Marie raises her right hand, needing to grab onto something, anything, and fists it in Dean's shirt. She pulls at the fabric as Dean lowers the knife to her dress buttons again, popping the next one without any warning.
When Dean goes for the third button, he tips the knife slightly too far in and nicks Marie's skin just below-between her tits. She's surprised and the sensation sends a current directly to her groin. Marie sucks in a breath and tips her head back against the wall. Dean pops the next button and lowers his lips to the tiny cut. He laps away the blood beading there and goes on to release the next six buttons in quick succession.
Marie's heart is pounding in her chest and her cunt is pulsing between her thighs. She's grasping at Dean's shirt, desperate to get it off of him, desperate to feel the skin against skin. Dean is true to his word, and cuts every one of her fifteen buttons off, each one falling to the hardwood floor with a synthetic chime. Marie is standing, pressed against the wall in her kitchen, with her uniform dress spread open and Dean holding the knife in his right hand watching her. She's looking directly into his eyes as he slides the knife up her thigh, slowly, pressing every few inches and drawing blood.
Dean goes to his knees and Marie thinks hers are going to go out on her. Dean is sliding his left hand down her body and when he's kneeling on the floor in front of Marie, he slides the knife the rest of the way up her thigh and under the side of her green panties. He presses it into her hip, the once cool metal now warm with body heat, and turns the knife so that the sharpened blade is pressed against the fabric. He looks up at Marie and pulls the handle of the knife up, cleanly cutting the flimsy fabric away. Dean leans to his right and starts to lick away the little trail of blood down Marie's thigh left by the knife. He slips her now ruined underwear down her right leg then slides his hand back up to rest on her hip.
Marie's legs are ready to give out. She's not sure if she can remain standing much longer. She makes a moaning noise in the back of her throat as Dean licks at her left thigh. Marie puts her right hand in Dean's hair and gently tugs, hoping he'll get the message.
He does, and a moment later, Dean is coming to his feet, still fully clothed, knife in hand. He licks his lips and pulls his bottom lip through his teeth and slips Marie's dress off her shoulders. It slides to the floor with a gentle rustling sound. Dean presses in close to Marie, pulling her off the wall, and unhooks her bra. He uses the knife to pull the straps off her shoulders and he lets the lace fall to the floor to join all the rest of Marie's clothing.
Marie leans back against the wall and stares at Dean, "Well, this is hardly fair. Put the knife down, Dean." Her voice is breathy but commanding.
Dean smiles and puts the knife down on the table. As soon as his hands are free, Marie grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head. She pulls him against her by the waistband of his jeans and kisses him, finally getting the skin contact she's been needing. As they kiss, tongues searching each other's mouths and lips, Marie undoes Dean's jeans. Before she can shimmy down his body to get his pants off, Dean grabs her hands at the wrists and presses them against the wall next to her head. He's flush against her, one of his knees is between her legs, and he presses her further into the wall. Dean's not kissing anymore. He's not even licking. He's just breathing over Marie's skin. His breath tickles her neck, it raises goosebumps across her chest. Dean lowers his head to her right breast and flicks the very tip of his tongue out on her nipple. Marie bucks into Dean's leg and Dean's mouth hovers, breathing warm, moist air, over Marie's nipple.
"Oh, god. Dean. Please." And god damn it, Dean has her begging.
Dean pulls Marie off the wall, turns her around and forces her down onto the table. Her ass is resting on the edge with her legs hanging off, Dean's leaning down over her with a vicious grin on his lips. He says, "Put your hands above your head and hold the edge of the table, Marie." So she does. And fuck she loves the sound of her name on his lips. Dean rises off of her and pulls a chair up to the table. Marie thinks, My god. He's gonna eat me. Oh, fuck. Oh, he's gonna eat me.
Dean is sitting in the chair between Marie's thighs. He lifts her left leg over his right shoulder gently and pulls her right foot up to rest on his left thigh. Marie has never felt so vulnerable in her life. And right now, she doesn't care. She just wants Dean's mouth on her pussy so bad it aches. She doesn't have to wait long until she feels Dean's breath ghosting over her clit. Dean's hands come up and hold her thighs apart and the first tentative lick across her swollen lips coaxes a groan from somewhere deep inside Marie.
Dean's tongue lightly licks just under the hood of Marie's clit, wet and firm strokes pulling moans out of Marie. He paints tiny circles and broad stripes as Marie grips the table and tries not to lift her hips closer to Dean's mouth. Dean's right hand starts to caress her thigh and slowly move toward her opening. Dean's thumb is barely tracing over Marie's labia. Dean closes his mouth over Marie's clit and sucks a gentle bite into the tender flesh and at the same time, slips his thumb into Marie's cunt.
Marie sucks in a breath and moans, pumping herself down onto Dean's thumb and coming with an uncontrollable seizing deep in her belly. Dean pulls his thumb out, but continues to lick, softer now, using the flat surface of his tongue. His hands glide up Maire's body and find her tits, kneading and pinching her nipples gently. Dean keeps licking broad strokes up Marie's cunt, working her through the hypersensitivity after her orgasm. His movements are slow, languid, and Marie feels like she's the only woman in the world to ever experience anything quite like this.
Dean moves his right hand off Marie's breast and lets it rest on her left thigh. Marie's clit has lost some of it's over-sensitivity now and she's relaxed back into the table. Dean's tongue moves from her labia back to her clit and he lets his finger slip inside slowly. Marie bites her lip and lets a short moan escape. Dean works his tongue over her clit while his finger moves in and out of her body making wet, slippery noises.
After what seems like too long/not long enough, Dean raises his head, finger still moving slowly inside Marie, and he hovers over her. His lips are parted and swollen, his chin is wet from eating her out and there's a flush to his cheeks that makes Marie let go of the table and pull him down into a kiss. She tastes herself on his lips and moans into his mouth as his tongue slips inside.
Dean pulls away and slowly slips his finger free from Marie. She bites her lip, knowing that she wants to protest the sudden absence. Dean's jeans are still clinging to his hips and Marie can see the hard line of his cock beneath his boxer briefs. He smiles and reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his wallet and then opens it to pull out the condom tucked away there. Marie smiles and thinks, responsible, too..
Dean puts his wallet back into his back pocket then pushes his jeans and boxers down to the floor. Marie raises up to her elbows and watches him as Dean slips the condom over his (not unimpressive) cock. Dean leans over Marie and presses his left hand against her chest to lay her back against the table once again. He lifts her legs to wrap around his waist and the head of his cock rests against Marie's cunt as if it's been trained where to go. Marie's breath is shallow and quick. Her nerves are on end, she's tense and excited and she's sure she's shaking beneath Dean.
Dean lowers his lips to hers and kisses gently, the head of his cock still poised at Marie's entrance. When he pulls back from the kiss he says, "Relax, Marie. Relax." And she does. Marie takes a deep breath and Dean licks her neck. He begins to press into her and Marie's legs tighten around Dean's middle. When the head of his cock pushes through, Dean bits Marie's neck and slowly guides himself in, only stopping when there's nothing left to push.
Marie brings her hands up and threads her fingers through Dean's hair. He's not moving, only nipping against her neck, breathing hot over the little bites, and she's never felt this full. Dean slides his cock out almost all the way then slowly drives it back into her. His thrusts are slow and long. He bites and sucks at her neck and lips and tits and it's all Marie can do not to come apart completely.
Dean rests his lips by Marie's ear and says, "So hot. You're so fucking hot, Marie. Wanna fuck you all night. You want that? You want me to fuck you all night?"
Marie's not sure, but she thinks she says, "Yes, oh god yes. Dean."
Dean's thrusts quicken, they're still smooth and deep, but not as slow. Marie is scratching her nails down his back and Dean growls and she feels the vibration throughout her body. He fists his left hand tightly in her hair, forcing her neck to arch back and expose her throat. Dean's right hand is on her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple. He moves it, slides it down her side, and meets her eyes when his thumb starts its slow circles on her clit. Marie's hips jump at the touch and Dean's hips piston, driving his dick deep inside. Marie yelps then breaths out quick and harsh as Dean fucks into her smoothly.
Dean's thumb is tracing circles around Marie's clit and Marie can feel the warmth and tension pooling low in her abdomen. She's meeting Dean's thrusts with her own, but they're starting to falter. Dean slows then comes to a stop deep inside Marie. He's back at her ear, his breathing loud and warm, when he starts his short thrusts, staying deep, pumping quickly. With every pump, a moan is pulled from Marie's lips. Dean is making the sexiest noises she's ever heard. She feels his moans deep in her chest, deep in her cunt.
Dean turns his head toward Marie's, his lips soft on her ear and he says, "That's my good girl, Marie. Come for me. Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you come."
Marie arches her back and the spasm rips through her body. Her hips piston to swallow all of Dean's cock, buried deep inside her. Her fingers dig into Dean's back and she hears him groan in time to his thrusts. The sharp waves of pleasure course through Marie and she feels Dean tense up just before he comes. As Marie comes down from her orgasm, Dean is just beginning his. He pumps into her almost violently as the spasms take over his body.
When he stills, Marie's legs still wrapped around his waist, Dean relaxes against Marie's chest. She can feel him smiling into her neck. Marie unwraps her legs and lets them fall on either side of Dean's. After a moment, Dean raises off and out of Marie. The sudden absence is too much and Marie makes a little whining noise that she'll later deny. Dean smiles down at her as he pulls the condom off and ties it in a knot and tosses it into the little kitchen trashcan.
"I wasn't kidding, you know." Dean's skin is flushed with warmth and an after-sex glow. Marie looks up at him from the table and asks, "About what?" She props herself up on her elbows.
Dean smirks, "Fucking you all night." He holds out his hand to help Marie up. Dean pulls her off the table top and her legs feel like jelly. She stands for a moment, trying to get her bearings, and apparently Dean can see how unsteady she is because he pulls her in to rest against his chest.
Once she's steady, Dean lets go of her and bends to remove his jeans and boxers completely, "So? Whadda say?" He tosses his clothes into a pile with Marie's.
Marie smiles and shakes her head. She raises an eyebrow at Dean and grabs his hand to drag him into her bedroom.