Not-So-Little Girl - Supernatural/Crossovers - #5 - Rough
Title: Not-So-Little Girl
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: FR21
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, the WB/CW, et al.
Claim: Supernatural/Crossovers
Prompt: #5 - Rough
Pairing: Dean/Faith
Summary: His dad certainly knew some interesting people. And Faith wasn't even the most colorful of them all, even if she was the sexiest.
Spoilers: Up through "Dead Man's Blood” for SPN. Anything is fair game in BtVS.
~*~*~
They'd survived. Dean still wasn't sure exactly how they'd manage to pull that off. For a second there it had actually looked iffy. They'd been out-numbered and, sure, it wasn't the first time. But - damn - vampires? Dad seriously needed to start cluing them into things like this. Or maybe they were just supposed to assume that everything they'd ever seen on a late night B-movie was real?
And now they were off - all three of them together for the first time in months - to finish this thing that had started twenty years ago, when their mother was killed. Him. Sam. Dad. Together - like they should’ve been from the start.
Family.
It would’ve been enough to give him a nice warm feeling, if he was the type for that chick flick crap.
Dean ran a hand down over his face, reaching for the shotglass on the table and the bottle of tequila that they'd shared. And, by 'they', he meant himself and his dad. Sammy hadn't had more than a single shot, and then only under protest; but that was enough to get his eyes a little glassy and head nodding along with whatever crap song was playing on the jukebox rattling along in the background. Dean threw back another shot relishing the feel of the alcohol burning its way down his throat, yet another reminder that he was still alive.
Across the bar a girl - no, definitely woman; pure woman - was watching their table. Black leather pants and a handkerchief of a top said that she wasn’t here just for a drink, to Dean’s practiced eye. She wanted something. No, someone.
Well, he was up for being a ‘someone’ tonight. Yet another way to feel alive, after all. A good, hard screw. He wondered if a little thing like her could hold on tight enough to leave bruises that he’d see in the morning - a perfect set of fingerprints to remind him that, hey, not only was he alive, but he still had what it took to get a pretty girl in bed.
He hid a smirk when she pushed off of the bar, setting her now-empty glass behind her, and started towards them. As Dean watched, the petite beauty walked up to his father, a sway to her hips. There was a tiny tug of a smile on her lips when she finally stopped, so close that Dean fully expected his father to move or tell her to back up a bit. But he didn't. Dean scowled.
"John."
Oh - so, she knew his dad, then? Well, okay. Maybe that was alright. Though, judging by the look on Sammy's face, his little brother didn't want to think about why or how their dad would know someone that looked reeked sex the way this girl did.
"Faith."
"You sound so happy to see me, too," she drawled with a smirk that was pure sarcasm, her eyes moving to lay first on Sammy, then himself. "These must be the boys."
Dean sat up a little straighter. While she was spot on calling Sammy that, he most definitely was not a 'boy'.
"My sons - Sam and Dean. This is Faith."
"I can see why you never introduced us all before, Johnny," Faith said with a little lick of her lips. Her eyes were on Dean's and he had a feeling that this girl would be hell in bed. A real fighter. Her arms were lean and well-toned and he just knew that under those tight leather pants were legs that completed the package.
Fuck. Was he really sitting here, thinking about trying to pick her up when it looked like her and his dad had some kind of history together? For all he knew - and he was really attempting very hard not to think about it too much - this chick was some sort of girlfriend of his dad's. The kind that he met up with whenever he was in the area. Dean had a couple of those in his own little black book - girls that were good for a quick roll when he was too wired after a hunt to do anything other than work out the excess energy. Girls that took the edge off so much better than jerking off in the shower.
So, he definitely shouldn't be sitting there wondering what it would be like kiss those dark red lips - whether she'd be gentle or the hellcat that she looked like she probably was.
"You're a little late," was his dad's response.
Faith shrugged and hooked her foot into an empty chair, dragging it out so that she could sit down at the table with the three of them. Close enough to his dad that Dean still wasn't sure what was going on. "Got caught up in a near-apocalypse with Red outside of Denver. 'Sides, you're still alive. Didn't need little old me."
"Wait - Faith, right?" Sammy said. Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Yeah - his bro had that look on his face that said he was piecing something together. Well, good, then. Dean didn’t like not knowing what the fuck was going on. "Where have I seen that name before?"
He leaned down, rifling through the backpack at his feet, and came up with their dad's journal, rather than wait for an answer from either of the people at the table that might have the answer that he was looking for. Probably a good move, Dean had to admit. Their dad wasn't exactly known for just telling them anything, even when it was a life or death situation - which this wasn't. And Faith looked like she was far too amused by Sam's question to give any answer that wouldn't be outright innuendo. She was watching his little brother with a half-lidded gaze - like she'd found her entertainment for the night - and damn if Dean wasn't just a little jealous that this chick was flirting with Sammy and not him right at that moment.
He poured himself another shot, knocking it back. The motion drew Faith’s gaze from Sammy and back to him and suddenly Dean was the center of her undivided attention again. Just the way he liked it. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and met her eyes without flinching, the corner of his mouth tilting up just a little in a way that more than one chick had told him was sexy.
“Wait a minute,” Sam said suddenly, fingers hovering over one of the pages in the journal. Dean glanced sideways at him, cocking an eyebrow.
“What?”
His dad laughed once, sharply. Dean frowned. There was something about this that their father found pretty damn amusing.
“I found the name Faith under ‘Slayers’,” Sam spoke slowly. “But - that’s just a myth.”
Faith laughed and shook her head. “John-boy. You need to educate them a little better. I’m definitely not a myth. Real live, flesh and blood, boys.”
A slayer? Dean knew he should know what that was.
But he didn’t.
“Don’t you remember?” Sam’s tone said that Dean sure as hell hadn’t paid attention to something. “Vampire slayer? Chosen one against the forces of darkness? Ringing any bells here?”
Dean’s frown deepened and he shot a glare over his shoulder at his brother. “Dude, give me a break. Didn’t think vampires were real until yesterday - that ringing any bells? So sue me if I didn’t pay attention to some myth about their hunter.”
“She’s not just a vampire hunter, Dean,” his dad spoke in that quiet voice he always used when he wanted to lecture or get a point across. “She hunts the same things you and Sammy do.”
“Yeah, pretty boy,” Faith said with a wicked grin that had nothing to do with being friendly. It looked more like an invitation to something completely sexual. “I’m the thing that the big bads are scared of.”
Dean snorted before he could stop himself. He couldn’t help it. She was just so… small. Sure, she looked like she was in shape. But, damn - she was just a chick. Won’t no way in hell she was that good.
And he said as much.
He should have known, when his dad and Sammy both laughed, not even bothering to hide it, that he’d fucked up somehow.
“Just a chick? Damn. You’re lucky B isn’t here. She’d wipe the floor with you just to prove a point. Me - I’ll be a little more forgiving.” She stood up, kicking her chair back. “Mind if I teach your boy a lesson, John?”
“Go right ahead. Try not to damage him too much - we got a fight comin’ up. I’d like him to be useful.”
“Sure thing,” Faith drawled. She met Dean’s eyes and he got the impression, again, that he’d stuck his foot in his mouth somehow. She tilted her head toward the door of the bar and it wasn’t so much a question, but an order, when she spoke again. “Come on.”
~*~*~
He wasn’t sure how they got from him getting his ass kicked by a chick, to watching Faith destroy logs with her bare hands, to her slamming him up against the wall of her motel room, but Dean wasn’t really complaining, either. Especially not when Faith had her tongue rammed down his throat, trying to eat him alive starting with his mouth. She was sucking on his tongue, her body undulating against his and fuck if Dean didn’t just want to feel her body around him, naked and wet.
Her hands tore at his clothes. Fabric ripped and tore and Dean was glad that he hadn’t been wearing his jacket, because damn if he wasn’t positive she would have torn right through that, too. As it was, he was pretty sure his shirt was a lost cause. Not that it was bothering him. He was a sucker for rough sex and Faith seemed ready, willing, and able to supply it.
Strong fingers wound into his hair, tugging his head back. Dean let go of Faith’s mouth with a wet sound, her lips on his neck getting him harder by the second. She jerked and his head thumped the wall as it went back even further, giving her eager lips access to even more skin.
”Yeah, that’s right. Just like that,” he muttered under his breath when her hips pushed against his, grinding against his erection. She was pressing hard and it was just this side of pain, but it felt so good that he groaned as soon as the words had left his mouth. Fuck, he wanted this chick. Right here, against the wall. Screw the bed.
Grabbing hold of her shoulders, he turned the two of them. Now she was the one against the wall and he was up against her, looking down into her lust-filled eyes. He pinned her with his body, well aware that she could throw him off any time she wanted to. That thought - knowing that she must want what he was doing - only turned him on more.
Hand on the back of her head, he guided her mouth back to his. She tasted like whiskey and cigarettes. Holding her in place, he fucked her mouth with his tongue. Hard, punishing - not at all relenting, just like the woman herself. He tasted her from the inside out, a strangled gasp drowning in her mouth when Faith’s hand slipped between them. There was a gentle tug as his zipper lowered, and then relief as his cock slipped free of his jeans - no longer constrained without the thick denim to press it into place. He pulled away and tugged his shirt off with one quick motion as Faith went to work on her own jeans.
She, unlike him, was not wearing underwear, he found out seconds later.
It took only a single pull on the strings holding Faith’s shirt together to send it fluttering to the ground.
“Just like that. Fuck,” Faith moaned as his lips wrapped around one of her nipples. He kneaded the soft flesh of the opposite breast, then switched. Mouth to nipple, hand to breast. She moaned again and a string of curses left her mouth, entreaties for more. He bit down gently, tugging it back with his teeth. Faith responded with a raking scratch over his shoulder. Dean was reminded of his earlier wish for a girl that could mark him up, make him feel alive.
Well, hell - looks like he’d found just what he was looking for.
With his free hand, Dean shimmied out of his boxer-briefs, letting them fall to his floor next to his jeans and shoes that had been kicked off within seconds of being in the room. Completely bare, he move up again and pressed against her, letting his stiff cock rub against her stomach. Hands on either side of her face, his mouth on hers again. He pressed her into the wall with his body, urging her up with a knee between her legs. She took the hint and, hands gripping his shoulders, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
The head of his cock slid against Faith’s warmth and Dean nearly lost it. He was throbbing. She rocked against his body and with every slip and slide against her core he could feel himself getting closer and closer to -
They both groaned when he slid inside of her, time standing still for one second as they adjusted to the new feeling, the new sensation. She was tight warmth and silken heat around him, squeezing. Dean buried his face in the crook of Faith’s neck, one hand under her left thigh, the other braced against the wall.
”You gonna stand there all night - or do you plan on fucking me any time soon?” Faith purred into his ear, her tongue snaking along the lobe, teeth biting down.
Hard.
Dean surged forward, burying himself fully in her body. Faith’s breath caught in a gasp, then a husky chuckle.
And then they started moving.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh provided the soundtrack to their union. He was roughly aware of murmuring obscene things into her ear, between biting kisses that left her neck wet; even as she did the same thing to him. But all he really cared about was the way that Faith’s body felt like it was made especially for him. Those tight, slick walls that slid around his cock, grasping and squeezing with every sweet writhing undulation of her body.
”Harder,” she whispered into his ear. “That all you got, baby?”
Dean growled and plunged into her. Harder, faster. Just what she was begging for. The hand that held onto her thigh convulsed and clenched, fingers digging into her skin; but she didn’t say a word. If anything, the little moans when his grip tightened were a signal that she was enjoying it.
She scratched down his back and this time Dean felt a whispery trickle; knew she had drawn blood. Sweat dripped into the raw skin and he hissed at the sting of pain, felt his body rev up that much higher. He was aching from the fight with the vampires, aching from the beating that Faith was giving him with her body - and damn if he didn’t want more. Didn’t want to hurt while he was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. He slammed into her, catching her off-guard and stealing her gasp with his mouth.
Her tongue rammed between his teeth, twining with his own, fucking him just as surely as he was busy fucking her. She was moaning and panting, begging for it without words. Hips bucking between him and the wall, she set a vicious counterpoint to his continued assault on her body.
She leaned her head back, breaking the kiss. Her eyes were half-shut, mouth wide and panting. Her dark hair was half-fanned out on the wall behind her head, creating a twisted aura of sorts around her flushed face. She looked wanton and just a bit wicked when her tongue came out to lick at her lips, wetting them.
Less than a second later, she came apart. Back bowing, eyes fluttering, mouth opening to scream - Faith came with desperate hitching breaths and guttural moans of his name that had Dean’s stomach twisting into knots as her body clenched around his cock, urging him to completion even as she rode out the rush of her orgasm. Relentless, he drove into her, his own breath coming short with every pulsing throb of her channel around him.
He was so close that he could feel the orgasm wrenching itself up and out of his cock. So close that he could feel it hovering there, right at the base, waiting to explode upwards.
But it wasn’t until Faith leaned forward for another kiss, her teeth capturing his lower lip and biting - hard - that he burst.
“FUCK!” Dean cried, hips forcing her against the wall harder than he’d managed yet as he came in hard, almost painful waves inside of her. His hips slowed, cock throbbing with her as he continued to rock, to milk out the last of his orgasm as his body shuddered.
Faith laughed against his lips. “You’ve got a pain kink, huh?”
Dean laughed, voice breaking as the final rush of his orgasm left him. Spent and suddenly very tired, he leaned Faith against the wall, resting his forehead on the faded wallpaper that he found there. “Guess so.”
He waited until she had lowered her legs back to the ground to slide all of the way from her body, then grabbed a handful of tissue from the cheap motel supply, wiping himself off as she crawled bonelessly into bed, watching him. He had a feeling that if he stuck around, he could have another go at her, maybe find out just how much fun of a girl she could be when they actually did it in the bed; but Sam and his Dad would be wondering where the hell he was.
Underwear, then jeans, then shoes. Finally, Dean looked around for his shirt. By the window. Huh. He’d thrown it pretty hard, then. He smirked.
Faith cleared her throat and Dean looked over at her as he turned the shirt back right-side-out and started to put it on . “You know, pretty boy - you’re a lot more fun than your daddy was.”
Dean froze, one arm caught in his shirt as his mind went into shutdown mode, blocking out mental images that he so very much did not need.
She’d slept with his dad?
Oh, son-of-a-BITCH!
END
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: FR21
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, the WB/CW, et al.
Claim: Supernatural/Crossovers
Prompt: #5 - Rough
Pairing: Dean/Faith
Summary: His dad certainly knew some interesting people. And Faith wasn't even the most colorful of them all, even if she was the sexiest.
Spoilers: Up through "Dead Man's Blood” for SPN. Anything is fair game in BtVS.
~*~*~
They'd survived. Dean still wasn't sure exactly how they'd manage to pull that off. For a second there it had actually looked iffy. They'd been out-numbered and, sure, it wasn't the first time. But - damn - vampires? Dad seriously needed to start cluing them into things like this. Or maybe they were just supposed to assume that everything they'd ever seen on a late night B-movie was real?
And now they were off - all three of them together for the first time in months - to finish this thing that had started twenty years ago, when their mother was killed. Him. Sam. Dad. Together - like they should’ve been from the start.
Family.
It would’ve been enough to give him a nice warm feeling, if he was the type for that chick flick crap.
Dean ran a hand down over his face, reaching for the shotglass on the table and the bottle of tequila that they'd shared. And, by 'they', he meant himself and his dad. Sammy hadn't had more than a single shot, and then only under protest; but that was enough to get his eyes a little glassy and head nodding along with whatever crap song was playing on the jukebox rattling along in the background. Dean threw back another shot relishing the feel of the alcohol burning its way down his throat, yet another reminder that he was still alive.
Across the bar a girl - no, definitely woman; pure woman - was watching their table. Black leather pants and a handkerchief of a top said that she wasn’t here just for a drink, to Dean’s practiced eye. She wanted something. No, someone.
Well, he was up for being a ‘someone’ tonight. Yet another way to feel alive, after all. A good, hard screw. He wondered if a little thing like her could hold on tight enough to leave bruises that he’d see in the morning - a perfect set of fingerprints to remind him that, hey, not only was he alive, but he still had what it took to get a pretty girl in bed.
He hid a smirk when she pushed off of the bar, setting her now-empty glass behind her, and started towards them. As Dean watched, the petite beauty walked up to his father, a sway to her hips. There was a tiny tug of a smile on her lips when she finally stopped, so close that Dean fully expected his father to move or tell her to back up a bit. But he didn't. Dean scowled.
"John."
Oh - so, she knew his dad, then? Well, okay. Maybe that was alright. Though, judging by the look on Sammy's face, his little brother didn't want to think about why or how their dad would know someone that looked reeked sex the way this girl did.
"Faith."
"You sound so happy to see me, too," she drawled with a smirk that was pure sarcasm, her eyes moving to lay first on Sammy, then himself. "These must be the boys."
Dean sat up a little straighter. While she was spot on calling Sammy that, he most definitely was not a 'boy'.
"My sons - Sam and Dean. This is Faith."
"I can see why you never introduced us all before, Johnny," Faith said with a little lick of her lips. Her eyes were on Dean's and he had a feeling that this girl would be hell in bed. A real fighter. Her arms were lean and well-toned and he just knew that under those tight leather pants were legs that completed the package.
Fuck. Was he really sitting here, thinking about trying to pick her up when it looked like her and his dad had some kind of history together? For all he knew - and he was really attempting very hard not to think about it too much - this chick was some sort of girlfriend of his dad's. The kind that he met up with whenever he was in the area. Dean had a couple of those in his own little black book - girls that were good for a quick roll when he was too wired after a hunt to do anything other than work out the excess energy. Girls that took the edge off so much better than jerking off in the shower.
So, he definitely shouldn't be sitting there wondering what it would be like kiss those dark red lips - whether she'd be gentle or the hellcat that she looked like she probably was.
"You're a little late," was his dad's response.
Faith shrugged and hooked her foot into an empty chair, dragging it out so that she could sit down at the table with the three of them. Close enough to his dad that Dean still wasn't sure what was going on. "Got caught up in a near-apocalypse with Red outside of Denver. 'Sides, you're still alive. Didn't need little old me."
"Wait - Faith, right?" Sammy said. Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Yeah - his bro had that look on his face that said he was piecing something together. Well, good, then. Dean didn’t like not knowing what the fuck was going on. "Where have I seen that name before?"
He leaned down, rifling through the backpack at his feet, and came up with their dad's journal, rather than wait for an answer from either of the people at the table that might have the answer that he was looking for. Probably a good move, Dean had to admit. Their dad wasn't exactly known for just telling them anything, even when it was a life or death situation - which this wasn't. And Faith looked like she was far too amused by Sam's question to give any answer that wouldn't be outright innuendo. She was watching his little brother with a half-lidded gaze - like she'd found her entertainment for the night - and damn if Dean wasn't just a little jealous that this chick was flirting with Sammy and not him right at that moment.
He poured himself another shot, knocking it back. The motion drew Faith’s gaze from Sammy and back to him and suddenly Dean was the center of her undivided attention again. Just the way he liked it. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and met her eyes without flinching, the corner of his mouth tilting up just a little in a way that more than one chick had told him was sexy.
“Wait a minute,” Sam said suddenly, fingers hovering over one of the pages in the journal. Dean glanced sideways at him, cocking an eyebrow.
“What?”
His dad laughed once, sharply. Dean frowned. There was something about this that their father found pretty damn amusing.
“I found the name Faith under ‘Slayers’,” Sam spoke slowly. “But - that’s just a myth.”
Faith laughed and shook her head. “John-boy. You need to educate them a little better. I’m definitely not a myth. Real live, flesh and blood, boys.”
A slayer? Dean knew he should know what that was.
But he didn’t.
“Don’t you remember?” Sam’s tone said that Dean sure as hell hadn’t paid attention to something. “Vampire slayer? Chosen one against the forces of darkness? Ringing any bells here?”
Dean’s frown deepened and he shot a glare over his shoulder at his brother. “Dude, give me a break. Didn’t think vampires were real until yesterday - that ringing any bells? So sue me if I didn’t pay attention to some myth about their hunter.”
“She’s not just a vampire hunter, Dean,” his dad spoke in that quiet voice he always used when he wanted to lecture or get a point across. “She hunts the same things you and Sammy do.”
“Yeah, pretty boy,” Faith said with a wicked grin that had nothing to do with being friendly. It looked more like an invitation to something completely sexual. “I’m the thing that the big bads are scared of.”
Dean snorted before he could stop himself. He couldn’t help it. She was just so… small. Sure, she looked like she was in shape. But, damn - she was just a chick. Won’t no way in hell she was that good.
And he said as much.
He should have known, when his dad and Sammy both laughed, not even bothering to hide it, that he’d fucked up somehow.
“Just a chick? Damn. You’re lucky B isn’t here. She’d wipe the floor with you just to prove a point. Me - I’ll be a little more forgiving.” She stood up, kicking her chair back. “Mind if I teach your boy a lesson, John?”
“Go right ahead. Try not to damage him too much - we got a fight comin’ up. I’d like him to be useful.”
“Sure thing,” Faith drawled. She met Dean’s eyes and he got the impression, again, that he’d stuck his foot in his mouth somehow. She tilted her head toward the door of the bar and it wasn’t so much a question, but an order, when she spoke again. “Come on.”
~*~*~
He wasn’t sure how they got from him getting his ass kicked by a chick, to watching Faith destroy logs with her bare hands, to her slamming him up against the wall of her motel room, but Dean wasn’t really complaining, either. Especially not when Faith had her tongue rammed down his throat, trying to eat him alive starting with his mouth. She was sucking on his tongue, her body undulating against his and fuck if Dean didn’t just want to feel her body around him, naked and wet.
Her hands tore at his clothes. Fabric ripped and tore and Dean was glad that he hadn’t been wearing his jacket, because damn if he wasn’t positive she would have torn right through that, too. As it was, he was pretty sure his shirt was a lost cause. Not that it was bothering him. He was a sucker for rough sex and Faith seemed ready, willing, and able to supply it.
Strong fingers wound into his hair, tugging his head back. Dean let go of Faith’s mouth with a wet sound, her lips on his neck getting him harder by the second. She jerked and his head thumped the wall as it went back even further, giving her eager lips access to even more skin.
”Yeah, that’s right. Just like that,” he muttered under his breath when her hips pushed against his, grinding against his erection. She was pressing hard and it was just this side of pain, but it felt so good that he groaned as soon as the words had left his mouth. Fuck, he wanted this chick. Right here, against the wall. Screw the bed.
Grabbing hold of her shoulders, he turned the two of them. Now she was the one against the wall and he was up against her, looking down into her lust-filled eyes. He pinned her with his body, well aware that she could throw him off any time she wanted to. That thought - knowing that she must want what he was doing - only turned him on more.
Hand on the back of her head, he guided her mouth back to his. She tasted like whiskey and cigarettes. Holding her in place, he fucked her mouth with his tongue. Hard, punishing - not at all relenting, just like the woman herself. He tasted her from the inside out, a strangled gasp drowning in her mouth when Faith’s hand slipped between them. There was a gentle tug as his zipper lowered, and then relief as his cock slipped free of his jeans - no longer constrained without the thick denim to press it into place. He pulled away and tugged his shirt off with one quick motion as Faith went to work on her own jeans.
She, unlike him, was not wearing underwear, he found out seconds later.
It took only a single pull on the strings holding Faith’s shirt together to send it fluttering to the ground.
“Just like that. Fuck,” Faith moaned as his lips wrapped around one of her nipples. He kneaded the soft flesh of the opposite breast, then switched. Mouth to nipple, hand to breast. She moaned again and a string of curses left her mouth, entreaties for more. He bit down gently, tugging it back with his teeth. Faith responded with a raking scratch over his shoulder. Dean was reminded of his earlier wish for a girl that could mark him up, make him feel alive.
Well, hell - looks like he’d found just what he was looking for.
With his free hand, Dean shimmied out of his boxer-briefs, letting them fall to his floor next to his jeans and shoes that had been kicked off within seconds of being in the room. Completely bare, he move up again and pressed against her, letting his stiff cock rub against her stomach. Hands on either side of her face, his mouth on hers again. He pressed her into the wall with his body, urging her up with a knee between her legs. She took the hint and, hands gripping his shoulders, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
The head of his cock slid against Faith’s warmth and Dean nearly lost it. He was throbbing. She rocked against his body and with every slip and slide against her core he could feel himself getting closer and closer to -
They both groaned when he slid inside of her, time standing still for one second as they adjusted to the new feeling, the new sensation. She was tight warmth and silken heat around him, squeezing. Dean buried his face in the crook of Faith’s neck, one hand under her left thigh, the other braced against the wall.
”You gonna stand there all night - or do you plan on fucking me any time soon?” Faith purred into his ear, her tongue snaking along the lobe, teeth biting down.
Hard.
Dean surged forward, burying himself fully in her body. Faith’s breath caught in a gasp, then a husky chuckle.
And then they started moving.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh provided the soundtrack to their union. He was roughly aware of murmuring obscene things into her ear, between biting kisses that left her neck wet; even as she did the same thing to him. But all he really cared about was the way that Faith’s body felt like it was made especially for him. Those tight, slick walls that slid around his cock, grasping and squeezing with every sweet writhing undulation of her body.
”Harder,” she whispered into his ear. “That all you got, baby?”
Dean growled and plunged into her. Harder, faster. Just what she was begging for. The hand that held onto her thigh convulsed and clenched, fingers digging into her skin; but she didn’t say a word. If anything, the little moans when his grip tightened were a signal that she was enjoying it.
She scratched down his back and this time Dean felt a whispery trickle; knew she had drawn blood. Sweat dripped into the raw skin and he hissed at the sting of pain, felt his body rev up that much higher. He was aching from the fight with the vampires, aching from the beating that Faith was giving him with her body - and damn if he didn’t want more. Didn’t want to hurt while he was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. He slammed into her, catching her off-guard and stealing her gasp with his mouth.
Her tongue rammed between his teeth, twining with his own, fucking him just as surely as he was busy fucking her. She was moaning and panting, begging for it without words. Hips bucking between him and the wall, she set a vicious counterpoint to his continued assault on her body.
She leaned her head back, breaking the kiss. Her eyes were half-shut, mouth wide and panting. Her dark hair was half-fanned out on the wall behind her head, creating a twisted aura of sorts around her flushed face. She looked wanton and just a bit wicked when her tongue came out to lick at her lips, wetting them.
Less than a second later, she came apart. Back bowing, eyes fluttering, mouth opening to scream - Faith came with desperate hitching breaths and guttural moans of his name that had Dean’s stomach twisting into knots as her body clenched around his cock, urging him to completion even as she rode out the rush of her orgasm. Relentless, he drove into her, his own breath coming short with every pulsing throb of her channel around him.
He was so close that he could feel the orgasm wrenching itself up and out of his cock. So close that he could feel it hovering there, right at the base, waiting to explode upwards.
But it wasn’t until Faith leaned forward for another kiss, her teeth capturing his lower lip and biting - hard - that he burst.
“FUCK!” Dean cried, hips forcing her against the wall harder than he’d managed yet as he came in hard, almost painful waves inside of her. His hips slowed, cock throbbing with her as he continued to rock, to milk out the last of his orgasm as his body shuddered.
Faith laughed against his lips. “You’ve got a pain kink, huh?”
Dean laughed, voice breaking as the final rush of his orgasm left him. Spent and suddenly very tired, he leaned Faith against the wall, resting his forehead on the faded wallpaper that he found there. “Guess so.”
He waited until she had lowered her legs back to the ground to slide all of the way from her body, then grabbed a handful of tissue from the cheap motel supply, wiping himself off as she crawled bonelessly into bed, watching him. He had a feeling that if he stuck around, he could have another go at her, maybe find out just how much fun of a girl she could be when they actually did it in the bed; but Sam and his Dad would be wondering where the hell he was.
Underwear, then jeans, then shoes. Finally, Dean looked around for his shirt. By the window. Huh. He’d thrown it pretty hard, then. He smirked.
Faith cleared her throat and Dean looked over at her as he turned the shirt back right-side-out and started to put it on . “You know, pretty boy - you’re a lot more fun than your daddy was.”
Dean froze, one arm caught in his shirt as his mind went into shutdown mode, blocking out mental images that he so very much did not need.
She’d slept with his dad?
Oh, son-of-a-BITCH!
END