Bending to Break (NC-17 *WIP Ch. 6* Buffy/Dean)
Title: Bending to Break
Author: Dani
Feedback: DaniMarieShafer@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Buffy/Dean
Crossover: BTVS x Supernatural
Spoilers: Through season... four/five of BTVS. Season one of Supernatural. I'm doing what's called "mirror" canon named by Chloe. It resembles the shows, but I've taken liberties. This is Buffy in her pre uber-darkness, but post Riley.
Summary: Wrapped in the seduction of a powerful and ancient succubus, Dean and Buffy must find a way to sever their connection with the demon before its too late.
AN: Thank you so much to Ava for the beta and brain storming and to Lisa for her continued support and whip cracking!!! I hope you guys enjoy. One minor warning: some threesome action - Buffy/Dean/Succubus.
Chapter 6
Dean closed his eyes, sucking in a breath through his nose as he felt the charged air crackle around him in wisps of electrical energy. Every hair on his body stood at attention and it made his skin feel tight and too thin. Inside of his head raged a whispering lullaby. The sound pressed against his skull so similar to a fist that just kept being stretched open inside of his brain. He forced one foot in front of the other and that none too gentle push was now as painful as needles being jabbed into his eyes.
Sam asked if he had lost his mind? He almost wished that were the case.
A sock clad foot lingered on the first step of the stairs, Dean’s eyes fluttering in rippling pain. He hesitated there, fighting with himself to take another step, to put distance between he and Buffy. His eyes were forced open by unseen fingers, his head snapping towards the bathroom as his dark orbs flashed iridescent blue in the dim light of the hallway.
Dean’s ashen lips were set in a grim line as he gritted his teeth. One tattered breath was drawn in after the other, a pregnant pause making the sound of raining water from the shower sound like pennies being dropped on a tin roof. When he finally spoke, his voice was gruff, strained, and full of barely restrained agony.
"What's good for the goose right...?"
With that humorless attempt at a joke, Dean jogged down two steps in one stride and schooled his face to hide the blinding pain that shot through his body at the action. Each step pulled at him, but the pain was almost a welcomed relief to the sirens song in his head.
"Dean," Sam said cautiously, the name lingering on his lips.
The tall brunette turned his body out of the way, the long length of his back pressing against the wall as his brother descended the stairs and walked right past him. Sam pushed off of the surface with his shoulders, snapping the book in his hand shut with a soft puff of dust. "Talk to me."
Dean didn't even have to look over his shoulder to know his brother was following him. He ground his teeth together tensely, anxiety consuming him. "Talk about what?"
"About what's really going on. About what in the hell just happened?" Sam sounded exasperated - tired.
Dean came to sudden halt and spun his heals to face his shadow. Sam slowed his stride to a stop and straightened his spine to his full height. He might have been a few years younger, but he was a couple of inches taller than his older brother and that was saying something impressive. Sam crossed his arms over his chest as they stared at each other with nothing but the sound of the shower filling the empty house.
"Drop it." Dean seethed through his teeth before he set off towards the living room. He just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. He wanted to find this succubus and torture her until she felt the agony that she was causing him.
"Damn it Dean! No, I wont. Something else is going on here. I can't help you if I don't know all the details."
Dean turned his head, meeting his brother’s eyes before he lifted an eyebrow that seemed to tug on the corner of his lip. They exchanged a knowing look before Sam groaned in annoyance and threw his hands in the air.
"Not those details asshole."
Dean labored a heavy sigh, as if breathing was the worst thing he had ever had to do. It was painful, and the ache that resounded through him had half his body already pointed towards the stairs to where Buffy was. “Go to her lover… she can make it better…” A voice whispered in his head. Dean knew that she would cure him - but it was a temporary fix. He drew a tired hand down his face, the coarse stubble scratching his palm.
Heavily, he plopped down on the couch, the old springs groaning at the weight. He hung his head between his outstretched legs, resting his arms on his knees. His eyes were fixated on the floor, willing a wormhole to open and suck him into hell. Anything was better than what he was feeling right now.
Dean curved his head to the side, meeting his brother's gaze from where he'd taken a seat beside him soundlessly. They were good at being unheard when they wanted to be. "When you were with Jess, how did it feel?" Dean asked sullenly.
Sam released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as sad remembrance filled his dark eyes with sorrow. "You aren't going to make fun of me?" He asked cautiously.
They had never really talked about Jess, about how much he had loved her with every fiber of his being. What he would have been willing to do for her - to give up for her. She was going to be his wife…
Dean made a motion with his hand, urging his brother to answer the question with out fear of repercussion. For the first time in - well ever - he was too tired to make fun of his Sammy and his feminine feelings. Real men didn't have feelings; they had base urges and testosterone.
The younger Winchester gave Dean a brief nod as he struggled to find a way to explain it in words that made sense. In words that his brother might understand. Sam took up a similar position to Dean's, his long legs buckling in half as he rested his elbows on his thighs. He curved his head to the side, meeting Dean's expectant face.
"I don't know man, it felt right. Perfect. Like I'd found the piece of me that I'd lost. She felt like..."
"...Home." Dean finished as he blinked his eyes closed. "Buffy felt like being home. When we were together, it was more than just..." His gruff voice stopped mid sentence as he searched for the right word.
Sam countered with a brisk bob of his head, "Sex…"
Dean sighed, his eyes blinking back open as he straightened and leaned against the couch. He stretched his arms behind his head, his eyes cast in the direction of the stairs. He had a flash of images, or pressing Buffy against the stairwell, of feeling her delicate soul in the palm of his hand as he devoured her.
"I don't know Sammy. It went beyond whatever pull this bitch has over me," Dean gave his brother a serious glare, "which by the way man, is fucked up. I feel like I'm being eaten alive - and not in the good kind of way a hot redhead can do with a click of her tongue. But through all this shit, everything that’s going on, all I can see is Buffy - the look in her eyes when..." He trailed off, picturing the rapture on her face.
"Oh. My. God." Sam rasped with a short laugh, "You're in love with her, aren't you? The mighty Dean has fallen."
Dean's eyes shot open and he whipped his head to the side to stare at Sam without missing a beat. "Whoa dude! NO. I didn't say that. I just meant that she is a really, really good lay. The things she does with her hips…that's all."
There was a bark of laughter, short and disbelieving.
"Tell me, how did you feel about her before all this happened?" Sam shot one look at his brother that made Dean close his mouth and forget the flip remark he had been about to say. Sam held up his hand, "I want to know honestly, don't fed me some bullshit line like you've been doing for the last two months."
Dean kicked the ground in reluctance as he rubbed his hands down his thighs until he cupped the knobs of his knees. "Honestly?” He met Sam’s eyes, "I don't know. Half the time I wanted to strangle her, the other half... well I wanted to nail her until she couldn’t walk straight. Sometimes I wanted to do both at the same time."
Sam rolled his eyes, "Gosh Dean that was just down right poetic."
The look on Dean's face mirrored his brothers, making the resemblance almost uncanny when they looked at each other. "Don't be a bitch dude. You asked, and that's how I feel. I don't think in flowers and long walks in the park like you do - translation, I'm not a pussy. I think in cup sizes and how long it will take before I can make it to the door before they wake up."
After a few seconds of silence, Sam worked through his brother's words and picked out the real meaning. If he wasn't in love with the slayer, he was pretty damn close, closer then he'd ever been before.
"How does she feel about you?"
"Who?" Dean asked distractedly, his mind wondering in and out of consciousness. He felt like his skin was splitting in half every second he spent away from Buffy.
Sam's hand collided with the back of his brother's head, forcing a grunt of anger and a mumbled curse out of Dean's pursed lips. "Jesus Dean! Who do you think? Buffy! Does she feel the same way about you moron?"
Dean scowled at Sam for a second before he dropped his eyes to the rug under the coffee table. It was cream and brown in an elaborate oriental pattern that tied in the colors of the room. Buffy loved that rug, not because of the pattern or the color, but because it was the last thing she and her mother had picked out together. There was a maroon stain on the far left corner: blood. It was his blood from when he and Buffy had gotten into it a little over a month ago.
It had been the first real taste of her power that he'd felt and he’d never forget it. She’d slapped him so hard and so suddenly that Dean hadn't even seen her hand move or her fist coil. After a few long speechless moments the rattle in his teeth had dulled, but the ringing in his ears had gone on in an endless symphony of bells.
She'd split his lip and given him a black eye before he had even blinked - the blonde vixen had been holding out on him. Dean had straightened his shoulders and wiped the dripping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. He realized in that moment, looking down into the fiery passion that glowed in her illuminate depths, that he had never wanted anything more in his life then to grab her by the shoulders and haul her against him. He wanted to kiss her; to force his blood stained lips on hers until she conceded and kissed him back. He wanted to bend her over the couch and fuck her until she was screaming his name. Was that love?
Dean pulled his eyes from the carpet to his brother, pushing the memory aside. "This morning... after everything had worn off and we were just staring at each other, our legs tangled... Oh for the love of Christ!" Dean cried in outrage, his pride taking over as he stood up abruptly, "This is fucking lame, see what you do to me Sammy?"
Sam's face cracked into a grin and he suppressed a chuckle at the honest to God look of true horror on his brothers face, "Maybe true loves passion isn't so far off bro - there is some truth there, even if you aren’t willing to admit it."
"I will kick your ass if you keep bringing this love shit up." Dean snapped, but his voice was devoid of anger and Sam knew he'd touched a nerve.
Sam stood as Dean sat back down. He straightened his back with a twist in an attempt to starve off the fatigue. "We should get out of here before Buffy gets out of the shower. My eyes can't take another peep show - I mean she’s hot, but you…” Sam shuddered visibly at the unwanted memory, “And not to mention I'm just not strong enough to peal you two apart, she damn near tore off my shoulder to get to you. That being said, it's probably not a great idea that we're still here."
Dean groaned as he felt the atrophy crawl through his arms and legs. Aside of the raging she-beast from hell that had taken residence inside of his head, every single muscle on his body hurt with a tingly numbness that made his skin stretch and spasm. Even his toenails hurt.
"I really just want to sleep - can't you just do what it is you need to do here while I nap on the couch for a bit? I don't think I can get up."
"Dean..." Sam warned in a low voice.
"Come on man!" Dean flung himself back on the couch, stretching out so that his feet hung off the end. A shooting pain snapped up his spine at the three claw marks on his back that he had forgotten about. He flipped, moving onto his stomach and the springs creaked at the motion. He used his hands a pillow, curving them under his head as he nestled in.
Dean cracked one eye open at his brother who was glowering at him. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Sam gave him a pointed look and then snickered, "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Go do what it is that you do in those books," Dean closed his eyes, shooing his brother away with a dismissive hand as he wiggled his body into the soft cushions and got comfortable.
Sleep immediately started to pull at his eyes, making them burn beneath the lids - but sleep didn’t come. Dean grumbled, feeling his brother shadow as it loomed over him. It could be done, but it was really hard to fall asleep when someone was staring at you. "Go away Sam. I'll be right here catching up on some beauty rest."
Sam laughed in resignation, walking out of the living room as he heard the shower upstairs click off. There was a pause, a creak of door hinges and then a few seconds later a second door slammed shut. Sam turned his shoulder, hovering between the kitchen and the living room. He smiled affectionately at Dean whose feet where hanging a good foot off the end of the couch, "Yeah. Good luck with that. You need all the help you can get."
Dean barely heard the basement door click shut before the darkness beneath his lids gave way. His consciousness fell through that one flashing second where you body falls into dreamless abandon and you are suspended in a moment where time means nothing. His body jerked, his muscles twitching as he shut down in an artificial calmness that overrode the pain that lingered throughout his body. It was warm and oddly comforting as the throbbing faded away into nothingness. Dean breathed in the lingering scent of lavender and the arm curled under his chest fell limply aside the couch. His fist unclenched, the backs of his open fingers resting against the Oriental rug as he succumbed to sleep.
* * *
(In case you are silghtly confused, this melts into a dream... please keep that in mind.)
The scent of lavender wrapped around him like a cocoon: safe and warm. Beneath his closed lids Dean's eyes shifted back and forth as he entered REM sleep. There was sunshine, bright and warm and the rays beat down upon him like fingers massaging his muscles.
Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked down at his naked chest, his clothes vanishing before his eyes. There were beads of gleaming perspiration that gathered along his skin as the sun rose higher in the cloudless sky. He watched the beads roll, moving as one to create a thin rivulet that moved down to tickle his golden skin as it drifted through the rigid line of muscles that divided his six-pack. It continued lower, over the bump at his hip and trailed down his bare thigh.
In the far distance, the soft sound of lapping waves washed over him. He looked up, the concern on his face melting into a relaxed state that shone in his eyes. He moved slowly, feet treading over the balmy sand beneath his feet as he made his way towards the oceans edge. There was no stripe that separated the sea from the sky; it was one continuous line that was seamless in its beauty.
He walked slowly, heals sinking into the sand with every step. There was no other sound besides the ocean and the soft breeze that blew over him. The heat abated as Dean paused, drawing in the moisture rich air as wind danced around him. The heat faded until his skin felt numb. It was neither hot nor cold, just the perfect temperature that made him sigh in contentment. A lazy hand moved over his chest as he felt the soft hairs there rustling in the breeze.
The shoreline that had seemed so distant when he'd first looked at it a second ago was now right in front of him. Water nipped at his heals, splashing up to his calves. The crystalline blue water moved over the shore, moistening the sand in fine darkness when it retreated. Cool water pooled over his feet, licking his skin. The ocean drew back and Dean concentrated on the rushing pull as he sunk further into the sand. There was the faintest bubbling noise and he bent his head to watch the sand crabs burrow back into the soil. He smiled wryly, a distant memory coming to his mind as he bent on his haunches.
His hand moved through the wet sand, digging a hole where it had popped and left tiny air bubbles. He brushed away the clumped sand in his hand until he found what he was hunting. A soft gray crab wiggled in his palm, feet scurrying against his skin before he set it back into the coming tide with a smile. He had always wanted to teach Sam how to find sand crabs - they’d never gotten the chance.
Dean looked to his left and then to his right as he rinsed his hands clean in the water and stood. The beach was desolate, the shore running for miles on either side of him with no end in sight. There were no trees, nothing except beige sand and blue water.
A husky voice sounded behind him, tickling his spine as he straightened himself into attention, "Its beautiful here."
Fingers moved along his spine and Dean turned slowly, blinking his hazel colored eyes at the succubus before him as the ocean continued to play at his feet and calves.
Her white gown was see-through, flowing in delicate strands with the soft breeze that seemed to pick up in her presence. Jet-black hair that looked almost purple in the sunlight, moved with the pale fabric in contrast. She was breathtaking. Dean's mouth moistened, his eyes outlining the dark nipples that could clearly be seen through the sheer cloth. They were full and tight with arousal and he felt an automatic response well within him. On instinct his eyes moved lower to the soft swell of feminine flesh that merged into the dark triangle of curls between her legs.
The white fabric of the dress wrapped against her lithe legs, outlining them as if there was nothing protecting her tender skin from the sun. He grew hard, curving into the air as his stomach tightened in anticipation. The sun that beat down upon him was now suddenly hot again, burning his skin into a golden shade of bronze.
Dean opened and closed his eyes, shaking his head at the invading song that pushed inside of his brain. The tickling feeling of fingers moved up the line of his back again. It was identical to the feel of the crab in his palm, feet scurrying. The demon in front of him curved her pout-y lips into a smile, her cheeks flashing a soft set of dimples. She batted long dark eyelashes and her eyes were like blue topazes that sparkled just as bright.
His fists clenched at his sides and Dean grasped onto the anger that hummed just under the surface. She was a demon, a lowly creature that was driving him insane. "Bitch..." He hissed through clenched teeth, "You better get outta of my head."
She drew a toe through the sand, blinking up at him softly. The sun shone on her pale skin, her cheeks already tingeing pink. Her skin was no longer translucent, and Dean had a flash of knowledge at how soft her skin was under the tips of his fingers.
"This is where you're mother took you, no?" The succubus asked, a train of fabric moving over the sand as she approached.
The demon looked at him like a cat eyeing a bowl of cream, her gaze slowly moving up and down his form. She closed in on him, resting a delicate hand on the curve of his cheek. Water crashed around their legs, the material of her dress melting away into nothingness. Dean jerked backwards, stumbling away as if he'd been burnt. He had, but not with heat. Her skin was like ice.
Her eyes knitted together, "You fight me so. Why?" She tucked her ruby lower lip between her teeth in a mannerism that was reminiscent of Buffy.
She looked up at him innocently, and Dean could feel the pointed tips of her breasts pressing against his chest as she drew herself even closer to him. He could feel the slow dull thud of her heart against his racing one. Her hand was so cold, so unlike the hot sun and he shivered. She trailed the ice over his face, her fingers moving them over his body in a hushed whisper of pleasure.
"I offer you ecstasy. Don't you want to end the suffering? The ache?" She whispered seductively, moving lower to cup the heavy sack of his balls in her palm. She encircled him, tugging lightly as she nipped at his neck with her teeth. “I can cure all that ails you lover… if you’ll only let me.”
Dean jumped, batting her hand away and he took a shaky step backwards. "Stay the fuck away from me demon whore."
The succubus seemed to ponder that for a second, her eyes titled upwards towards the heaven less sky. She basked in the sunlight, and Dean watched the delicate lines of her face curve into a smile. She lowered the point of her chin, "It is not me who you want." She said it simply as she trailed around his body in a circle.
The next time she spoke her lips were pressed against his ear and her hands were moving over his shoulders and down his chest. “Do you love her?”
Dean fought, his teeth grinding against one another to hold his body steady. He could feel her breasts against his back, the ocean waves moving against the back of his thighs like silk. He could feel the softness of her lips as she sucked on his ear lobe, blowing a cool breath across his skin that seemed to flow over his entire being. She circled him, tauntingly, fingers trailing over his shoulders as she went. She came to a stop in front of him, her head tilted upwards in an invitation for a kiss but when Dean looked down, it wasn’t the succubus.
Large green eyes batted up at him, full lips curving into a heart-stopping smile as Buffy drew a warm hand over his heart. It skipped a beat.
He sucked in a breath that was baited with vanilla, and he could taste her essence on his lips. The waves disappeared, and Dean suddenly found himself on the shore once more, just a hint of crashing water in the distance. The sun kissed her skin, bronzing her line of nose and the high contours of her cheeks. Her hair shimmered in the yellowing rays of light, lessening the blonde shade almost before his eyes. Her mossy depths were bight, iridescent with love as the hand she pressed against his chest moved to cup the back of his neck.
"Dean..." She moaned with promise, submitting into the curve of his body as she panted against his neck. “Do you love me?”
Dean felt his knees buckle, and with a force that was out of his control his hands roamed over her nude body like it was the most precious thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. He started with the flair of her hips, hands trailing upwards until he could cup the now familiar weight of her breasts that were pressed between their bodies. They were full and perky, fitting perfectly in his palm. She moaned his name like a prayer, silently begging as she gently scratched her nails up and down his arms.
Behind them the ocean pounded the shore, waves cresting and peaking in an intensity that broke the tiny granules of sand into smaller and smaller pieces until they vanished. Dean bent, smoothing his hands away from her breast and down her back until he cupped her ass in his hands. He ground her hips against his erection, his mouth slanting over hers.
Their lips met softly, a gentle melting of tongues as he poured himself into her like it was his last wish. Dean felt the world spinning, but he knew he was standing still. After long seconds Buffy pulled away, her eyes fluttering in passion.
"Do you want me?" Buffy whimpered, biting her lip in question.
Dean closed his eyes, inhaling her scent as breathed her in and nodded. "Yes." He whispered in answer to both questions, his voice breaking with the strain he felt at having to hold himself upright.
The blonde’s lips curved into a smile before she pressed a chaste kiss against the line of his jaw. Her lips moved downwards, teeth nibbling against his throat. Her mouth drew along the line of his collar, lips exploring his flat nipples as she sucked them into her mouth. Nimble hands trailed down his abdomen, the muscles rippling in excitement before she took him into her hand. With a maddening slowness she stroked him up and down, her hair ticking his chest as she knelt in the sand before him.
Buffy looked up at him with a demure smile - asking a silent question that he heard echoing inside of his head. Dean’s instinctually arched his body against her hand, pressing his rock hard member in and out of the ring her hand created. Affectionately his hand cupped her head, smoothing over the silky strands before he threaded his fingers through her honey tresses. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but his words feel short in a deaf whisper when she wrapped her lips around his cock.
He sucked in a harsh breath, his grip tightening in her hair as she sucked him deeper into the haven of her mouth. It was wet and warm, and so damn soft as her tongue swirled around the underside of his sensitive nerves. Slowly she bobbed up and down, her tiny hand encompassing his shaft in an up-down rhythm that forced his eyes closed.
“Yes…” Dean panted as his breathing started to skip.
When his eyes opened and he looked down at her, Buffy’s lips were ruby red, scarlet and looked so dark compared to the paleness of his member that slid against the back of her throat. The pleasure moved through him in even waves that matched the ocean. Dean's hips flexed, pushing into her mouth like it was her womanhood and the blonde increased her rhythm in response. A throaty moan was torn from Dean’s throat as he felt teeth scrap along the underside of his shaft.
Consciousness pulled at him as his balls tightened in pleasure, and he felt numb. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to watch Buffy kneeling before him, sucking him hard and quicker as she made hungry little sounds. She was begging him to come in her mouth. Dean released her hair, his hands twisting over her neck to finger the puffy white scar there. She moaned around his shaft, and Dean let out a strangled cry as he felt his climax nearing.
His eyes blinked open and the moan on his lips fell into a gasp of shock. Where there was blonde hair, it was now black. The succubus rolled its eyes upwards, and before Dean could protest he felt the comforting press of lips on his back. His spine stiffened as Buffy trailed her hand across his shoulder blades, coming into view. She reached up on the tips of her toes, pressing her mouth against his to silence his cries.
She swallowed his moan as the wet sucking sensation increased on his manhood. Harder, quicker, stronger. Dean felt his soul slipping, felt the blinding pleasure building at the base of his spine. For all that it was worth, Dean closed his eyes and cupped Buffy's cheeks as he poured his love into their kiss.
Their tongues dueled voraciously, pressing and bating, chasing and capturing. Her hand moved down his abdomen, teasing his flesh until she wrapped her fingers around his length in double sensation. He cried out, but it was lost in the commotion of having two women racing him towards his pinnacle.
Dean looked down to see Buffy’s tanned hand move in time with the ruby lips that belonged to the succubus. They stroked him, bringing him to a fevered pitch that he knew was wrong but felt so damned good. The succubus stood suddenly, her lips swollen with lust. Buffy’s hand still worked him, moving swiftly over the wet skin. She curved her palm over the crown, twisting her wrist with every upstroke.
The succubus pressed her lips against Buffy's arm, trailing upwards as one pale white hand curved around to cover the blonde's breast. Dean whimpered, Buffy's hand moving deftly over the velvet hardness. Dean met Buffy mouth, and he felt her moan as the succubus attached her lips to the side of Buffy’s neck while she tweaked a dusty nipple between her fingers.
Buffy broke the kiss, pulling away with moist red lips as she rested her head against the succubus' shoulder. She panted, and Dean watched the pleasure move over her face as the black haired woman bit her neck and curved long fingers down the flat surface of Buffy’s toned stomach. Dean's hand moved up Buffy’s hip, trailing over her rib cage in an opposing direction of the succubus until he cupped her shoulder. He pressed down urging Buffy to resume her kneeling position. Time erased, and there was nothing but hungry moans, a soft breeze and the ocean’s continued push-pull with the earth’s tide.
The succubus leaned forward over Buffy, and Dean had a flash of sight where black caressing hair fell over Buffy’s shoulder to arouse her breasts. The succubus met Dean's lips in a fiery kiss, forcing a bolt of energy into his soul as she sucked his tongue into her mouth. It was cold, like sucking on an ice cube.
There was a throaty moan that Dean felt move through his lower body as Buffy took him into the heat her mouth once more, erasing the chill that ebbed inside of his gut. Dean felt his body being lowered, felt the scratchy sand against his back as he lay. The sun flashed blinding rays into his eyes as Dean let his head fall back. But his head didn’t hit sand; instead it rested on the silkiness of a pillow. What was once coarse and rough beneath him was now the velvet softness of a bed.
He sucked in a deep breath, still smelling the salt of the ocean heavy on his tongue as the two girls settled on the bed before him. They leaned forward, tongues meeting in the middle before they pressed their lips against one another. A needy sound escaped his throat as their kiss became passionate, as Buffy's hungry little cries reached his ears. There hands moved over one another, touching and caressing. Buffy cried out as a hand that wasn’t her own disappeared between her thighs. Dean fisted the sheets in his palms, desperation bucking his hips into the air.
The succubus pulled back from the kiss, pulling out Buffy’s lower lip as she guided the blonde head towards his aching member with her free hand. His cock was purple with need, the crown swollen and full, seeping come from his impending climax. Sharp nails trailed up his thigh as Buffy encompassed his shaft, her hips bucking against the fingers buried inside of her. She moved frantically over his manhood, sucking and licking him into a brink that he knew he’d never return from. The succubus knelt on the other side, her dark head resting on Dean’s thigh as she propelled Buffy closer and closer to orgasm.
Buffy's back arched as she cried out his name in a full-throated scream and Dean suddenly found him between her legs, no recollection on how he had gotten there. His arms were wrapped around her thighs, holding her open as he drank in the energy and power spilling from her. A cloud of need and lust swirled hazy red lines of pleasure around them. He felt lips, teeth, and tongues licking all over him. He felt a hand pulling at his shaft, stroking him harder and quicker. His mouth moved over the hard nubbin of Buffy’s clit as she moaned and writhed. Her hips bucked against his mouth and he felt the first sparks of her climax infecting his soul.
There were lips that he felt against his neck, a soft mouth moving up his throat. Hair tickled his skin as the succubus continued to stroke him off.
"Bring her Dean... do not fight me."
Buffy cried out, hands grasping the sheets, ripping them as her back bowed off of the bed. Power crashed down on him like the ocean’s powerful waves. The ground shook, trembling as he panted and moaned at the feelings overwhelming him. Dean's jaw worked harder, his tongue moving through the sopping folds as he sucked and nibbled. His fingers moved in and out of Buffy’s depths, pressing into her, stroking the soft spongy walls. His brain was hazed with passion, and nothing meant anything anymore.
"Yes." The succubus cried out, the sound moving through Dean to triple the pleasure that surrounded them a shroud of indecency.
The succubus pulled back, letting go of his member with a tight squeeze around the base. Her lips were frigid around his ear lobe as she tugged with blunt teeth. She moved behind him on the bed, stretching her arms as she grazed her nails up his chest, leaving red angry welts in her wake.
There was blur of lines, and Dean found himself on his back. The red welts disappeared under Buffy's mouth as she lapped at them. Her tongue was soft and pink, gently working her way up his body until she straddled him. Mossy green eyes met his, her face looming above his and she guided his throbbing member towards her center.
The succubus was there, guiding his mouth to her neck over the scar that was raised with thick puffy skin. His mouth closed around the mark, sucking the flesh into his mouth. Buffy cried out, shattering above him as she rode back and forth against his member. He wasn’t inside of her, but he could feel the drenching of her climax above him as his teeth sunk into the skin.
“She’s yours now Dean, she doesn’t belong to him anyone.” The succubus whispered into his ear, and he could barely hear over the loud screams Buffy keened as she trembled above him, coming over and over at again as he worked the scar skin in between his teeth until he tasted copper.
Dean flexed his fingers on her hips, quickly moving her body back and forth over his hard cock in a frenzy of movement. She moved with him, her breast dragging against his chest with every thrust. Dean’s mouth was stained with blood when he pulled back and looked up into Buffy’s eyes that were now blue. The sapphire orbs flashed as she cupped his cheeks in-between her hands, lowering herself onto his shaft.
Her mouth moved lower whispering, "Find her Dean. Find her and bring her home," over his lips before she sank down on him and his world shattered.
TBC…
Author: Dani
Feedback: DaniMarieShafer@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Buffy/Dean
Crossover: BTVS x Supernatural
Spoilers: Through season... four/five of BTVS. Season one of Supernatural. I'm doing what's called "mirror" canon named by Chloe. It resembles the shows, but I've taken liberties. This is Buffy in her pre uber-darkness, but post Riley.
Summary: Wrapped in the seduction of a powerful and ancient succubus, Dean and Buffy must find a way to sever their connection with the demon before its too late.
AN: Thank you so much to Ava for the beta and brain storming and to Lisa for her continued support and whip cracking!!! I hope you guys enjoy. One minor warning: some threesome action - Buffy/Dean/Succubus.
Chapter 6
Dean closed his eyes, sucking in a breath through his nose as he felt the charged air crackle around him in wisps of electrical energy. Every hair on his body stood at attention and it made his skin feel tight and too thin. Inside of his head raged a whispering lullaby. The sound pressed against his skull so similar to a fist that just kept being stretched open inside of his brain. He forced one foot in front of the other and that none too gentle push was now as painful as needles being jabbed into his eyes.
Sam asked if he had lost his mind? He almost wished that were the case.
A sock clad foot lingered on the first step of the stairs, Dean’s eyes fluttering in rippling pain. He hesitated there, fighting with himself to take another step, to put distance between he and Buffy. His eyes were forced open by unseen fingers, his head snapping towards the bathroom as his dark orbs flashed iridescent blue in the dim light of the hallway.
Dean’s ashen lips were set in a grim line as he gritted his teeth. One tattered breath was drawn in after the other, a pregnant pause making the sound of raining water from the shower sound like pennies being dropped on a tin roof. When he finally spoke, his voice was gruff, strained, and full of barely restrained agony.
"What's good for the goose right...?"
With that humorless attempt at a joke, Dean jogged down two steps in one stride and schooled his face to hide the blinding pain that shot through his body at the action. Each step pulled at him, but the pain was almost a welcomed relief to the sirens song in his head.
"Dean," Sam said cautiously, the name lingering on his lips.
The tall brunette turned his body out of the way, the long length of his back pressing against the wall as his brother descended the stairs and walked right past him. Sam pushed off of the surface with his shoulders, snapping the book in his hand shut with a soft puff of dust. "Talk to me."
Dean didn't even have to look over his shoulder to know his brother was following him. He ground his teeth together tensely, anxiety consuming him. "Talk about what?"
"About what's really going on. About what in the hell just happened?" Sam sounded exasperated - tired.
Dean came to sudden halt and spun his heals to face his shadow. Sam slowed his stride to a stop and straightened his spine to his full height. He might have been a few years younger, but he was a couple of inches taller than his older brother and that was saying something impressive. Sam crossed his arms over his chest as they stared at each other with nothing but the sound of the shower filling the empty house.
"Drop it." Dean seethed through his teeth before he set off towards the living room. He just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. He wanted to find this succubus and torture her until she felt the agony that she was causing him.
"Damn it Dean! No, I wont. Something else is going on here. I can't help you if I don't know all the details."
Dean turned his head, meeting his brother’s eyes before he lifted an eyebrow that seemed to tug on the corner of his lip. They exchanged a knowing look before Sam groaned in annoyance and threw his hands in the air.
"Not those details asshole."
Dean labored a heavy sigh, as if breathing was the worst thing he had ever had to do. It was painful, and the ache that resounded through him had half his body already pointed towards the stairs to where Buffy was. “Go to her lover… she can make it better…” A voice whispered in his head. Dean knew that she would cure him - but it was a temporary fix. He drew a tired hand down his face, the coarse stubble scratching his palm.
Heavily, he plopped down on the couch, the old springs groaning at the weight. He hung his head between his outstretched legs, resting his arms on his knees. His eyes were fixated on the floor, willing a wormhole to open and suck him into hell. Anything was better than what he was feeling right now.
Dean curved his head to the side, meeting his brother's gaze from where he'd taken a seat beside him soundlessly. They were good at being unheard when they wanted to be. "When you were with Jess, how did it feel?" Dean asked sullenly.
Sam released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as sad remembrance filled his dark eyes with sorrow. "You aren't going to make fun of me?" He asked cautiously.
They had never really talked about Jess, about how much he had loved her with every fiber of his being. What he would have been willing to do for her - to give up for her. She was going to be his wife…
Dean made a motion with his hand, urging his brother to answer the question with out fear of repercussion. For the first time in - well ever - he was too tired to make fun of his Sammy and his feminine feelings. Real men didn't have feelings; they had base urges and testosterone.
The younger Winchester gave Dean a brief nod as he struggled to find a way to explain it in words that made sense. In words that his brother might understand. Sam took up a similar position to Dean's, his long legs buckling in half as he rested his elbows on his thighs. He curved his head to the side, meeting Dean's expectant face.
"I don't know man, it felt right. Perfect. Like I'd found the piece of me that I'd lost. She felt like..."
"...Home." Dean finished as he blinked his eyes closed. "Buffy felt like being home. When we were together, it was more than just..." His gruff voice stopped mid sentence as he searched for the right word.
Sam countered with a brisk bob of his head, "Sex…"
Dean sighed, his eyes blinking back open as he straightened and leaned against the couch. He stretched his arms behind his head, his eyes cast in the direction of the stairs. He had a flash of images, or pressing Buffy against the stairwell, of feeling her delicate soul in the palm of his hand as he devoured her.
"I don't know Sammy. It went beyond whatever pull this bitch has over me," Dean gave his brother a serious glare, "which by the way man, is fucked up. I feel like I'm being eaten alive - and not in the good kind of way a hot redhead can do with a click of her tongue. But through all this shit, everything that’s going on, all I can see is Buffy - the look in her eyes when..." He trailed off, picturing the rapture on her face.
"Oh. My. God." Sam rasped with a short laugh, "You're in love with her, aren't you? The mighty Dean has fallen."
Dean's eyes shot open and he whipped his head to the side to stare at Sam without missing a beat. "Whoa dude! NO. I didn't say that. I just meant that she is a really, really good lay. The things she does with her hips…that's all."
There was a bark of laughter, short and disbelieving.
"Tell me, how did you feel about her before all this happened?" Sam shot one look at his brother that made Dean close his mouth and forget the flip remark he had been about to say. Sam held up his hand, "I want to know honestly, don't fed me some bullshit line like you've been doing for the last two months."
Dean kicked the ground in reluctance as he rubbed his hands down his thighs until he cupped the knobs of his knees. "Honestly?” He met Sam’s eyes, "I don't know. Half the time I wanted to strangle her, the other half... well I wanted to nail her until she couldn’t walk straight. Sometimes I wanted to do both at the same time."
Sam rolled his eyes, "Gosh Dean that was just down right poetic."
The look on Dean's face mirrored his brothers, making the resemblance almost uncanny when they looked at each other. "Don't be a bitch dude. You asked, and that's how I feel. I don't think in flowers and long walks in the park like you do - translation, I'm not a pussy. I think in cup sizes and how long it will take before I can make it to the door before they wake up."
After a few seconds of silence, Sam worked through his brother's words and picked out the real meaning. If he wasn't in love with the slayer, he was pretty damn close, closer then he'd ever been before.
"How does she feel about you?"
"Who?" Dean asked distractedly, his mind wondering in and out of consciousness. He felt like his skin was splitting in half every second he spent away from Buffy.
Sam's hand collided with the back of his brother's head, forcing a grunt of anger and a mumbled curse out of Dean's pursed lips. "Jesus Dean! Who do you think? Buffy! Does she feel the same way about you moron?"
Dean scowled at Sam for a second before he dropped his eyes to the rug under the coffee table. It was cream and brown in an elaborate oriental pattern that tied in the colors of the room. Buffy loved that rug, not because of the pattern or the color, but because it was the last thing she and her mother had picked out together. There was a maroon stain on the far left corner: blood. It was his blood from when he and Buffy had gotten into it a little over a month ago.
It had been the first real taste of her power that he'd felt and he’d never forget it. She’d slapped him so hard and so suddenly that Dean hadn't even seen her hand move or her fist coil. After a few long speechless moments the rattle in his teeth had dulled, but the ringing in his ears had gone on in an endless symphony of bells.
She'd split his lip and given him a black eye before he had even blinked - the blonde vixen had been holding out on him. Dean had straightened his shoulders and wiped the dripping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. He realized in that moment, looking down into the fiery passion that glowed in her illuminate depths, that he had never wanted anything more in his life then to grab her by the shoulders and haul her against him. He wanted to kiss her; to force his blood stained lips on hers until she conceded and kissed him back. He wanted to bend her over the couch and fuck her until she was screaming his name. Was that love?
Dean pulled his eyes from the carpet to his brother, pushing the memory aside. "This morning... after everything had worn off and we were just staring at each other, our legs tangled... Oh for the love of Christ!" Dean cried in outrage, his pride taking over as he stood up abruptly, "This is fucking lame, see what you do to me Sammy?"
Sam's face cracked into a grin and he suppressed a chuckle at the honest to God look of true horror on his brothers face, "Maybe true loves passion isn't so far off bro - there is some truth there, even if you aren’t willing to admit it."
"I will kick your ass if you keep bringing this love shit up." Dean snapped, but his voice was devoid of anger and Sam knew he'd touched a nerve.
Sam stood as Dean sat back down. He straightened his back with a twist in an attempt to starve off the fatigue. "We should get out of here before Buffy gets out of the shower. My eyes can't take another peep show - I mean she’s hot, but you…” Sam shuddered visibly at the unwanted memory, “And not to mention I'm just not strong enough to peal you two apart, she damn near tore off my shoulder to get to you. That being said, it's probably not a great idea that we're still here."
Dean groaned as he felt the atrophy crawl through his arms and legs. Aside of the raging she-beast from hell that had taken residence inside of his head, every single muscle on his body hurt with a tingly numbness that made his skin stretch and spasm. Even his toenails hurt.
"I really just want to sleep - can't you just do what it is you need to do here while I nap on the couch for a bit? I don't think I can get up."
"Dean..." Sam warned in a low voice.
"Come on man!" Dean flung himself back on the couch, stretching out so that his feet hung off the end. A shooting pain snapped up his spine at the three claw marks on his back that he had forgotten about. He flipped, moving onto his stomach and the springs creaked at the motion. He used his hands a pillow, curving them under his head as he nestled in.
Dean cracked one eye open at his brother who was glowering at him. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Sam gave him a pointed look and then snickered, "Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Go do what it is that you do in those books," Dean closed his eyes, shooing his brother away with a dismissive hand as he wiggled his body into the soft cushions and got comfortable.
Sleep immediately started to pull at his eyes, making them burn beneath the lids - but sleep didn’t come. Dean grumbled, feeling his brother shadow as it loomed over him. It could be done, but it was really hard to fall asleep when someone was staring at you. "Go away Sam. I'll be right here catching up on some beauty rest."
Sam laughed in resignation, walking out of the living room as he heard the shower upstairs click off. There was a pause, a creak of door hinges and then a few seconds later a second door slammed shut. Sam turned his shoulder, hovering between the kitchen and the living room. He smiled affectionately at Dean whose feet where hanging a good foot off the end of the couch, "Yeah. Good luck with that. You need all the help you can get."
Dean barely heard the basement door click shut before the darkness beneath his lids gave way. His consciousness fell through that one flashing second where you body falls into dreamless abandon and you are suspended in a moment where time means nothing. His body jerked, his muscles twitching as he shut down in an artificial calmness that overrode the pain that lingered throughout his body. It was warm and oddly comforting as the throbbing faded away into nothingness. Dean breathed in the lingering scent of lavender and the arm curled under his chest fell limply aside the couch. His fist unclenched, the backs of his open fingers resting against the Oriental rug as he succumbed to sleep.
* * *
(In case you are silghtly confused, this melts into a dream... please keep that in mind.)
The scent of lavender wrapped around him like a cocoon: safe and warm. Beneath his closed lids Dean's eyes shifted back and forth as he entered REM sleep. There was sunshine, bright and warm and the rays beat down upon him like fingers massaging his muscles.
Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked down at his naked chest, his clothes vanishing before his eyes. There were beads of gleaming perspiration that gathered along his skin as the sun rose higher in the cloudless sky. He watched the beads roll, moving as one to create a thin rivulet that moved down to tickle his golden skin as it drifted through the rigid line of muscles that divided his six-pack. It continued lower, over the bump at his hip and trailed down his bare thigh.
In the far distance, the soft sound of lapping waves washed over him. He looked up, the concern on his face melting into a relaxed state that shone in his eyes. He moved slowly, feet treading over the balmy sand beneath his feet as he made his way towards the oceans edge. There was no stripe that separated the sea from the sky; it was one continuous line that was seamless in its beauty.
He walked slowly, heals sinking into the sand with every step. There was no other sound besides the ocean and the soft breeze that blew over him. The heat abated as Dean paused, drawing in the moisture rich air as wind danced around him. The heat faded until his skin felt numb. It was neither hot nor cold, just the perfect temperature that made him sigh in contentment. A lazy hand moved over his chest as he felt the soft hairs there rustling in the breeze.
The shoreline that had seemed so distant when he'd first looked at it a second ago was now right in front of him. Water nipped at his heals, splashing up to his calves. The crystalline blue water moved over the shore, moistening the sand in fine darkness when it retreated. Cool water pooled over his feet, licking his skin. The ocean drew back and Dean concentrated on the rushing pull as he sunk further into the sand. There was the faintest bubbling noise and he bent his head to watch the sand crabs burrow back into the soil. He smiled wryly, a distant memory coming to his mind as he bent on his haunches.
His hand moved through the wet sand, digging a hole where it had popped and left tiny air bubbles. He brushed away the clumped sand in his hand until he found what he was hunting. A soft gray crab wiggled in his palm, feet scurrying against his skin before he set it back into the coming tide with a smile. He had always wanted to teach Sam how to find sand crabs - they’d never gotten the chance.
Dean looked to his left and then to his right as he rinsed his hands clean in the water and stood. The beach was desolate, the shore running for miles on either side of him with no end in sight. There were no trees, nothing except beige sand and blue water.
A husky voice sounded behind him, tickling his spine as he straightened himself into attention, "Its beautiful here."
Fingers moved along his spine and Dean turned slowly, blinking his hazel colored eyes at the succubus before him as the ocean continued to play at his feet and calves.
Her white gown was see-through, flowing in delicate strands with the soft breeze that seemed to pick up in her presence. Jet-black hair that looked almost purple in the sunlight, moved with the pale fabric in contrast. She was breathtaking. Dean's mouth moistened, his eyes outlining the dark nipples that could clearly be seen through the sheer cloth. They were full and tight with arousal and he felt an automatic response well within him. On instinct his eyes moved lower to the soft swell of feminine flesh that merged into the dark triangle of curls between her legs.
The white fabric of the dress wrapped against her lithe legs, outlining them as if there was nothing protecting her tender skin from the sun. He grew hard, curving into the air as his stomach tightened in anticipation. The sun that beat down upon him was now suddenly hot again, burning his skin into a golden shade of bronze.
Dean opened and closed his eyes, shaking his head at the invading song that pushed inside of his brain. The tickling feeling of fingers moved up the line of his back again. It was identical to the feel of the crab in his palm, feet scurrying. The demon in front of him curved her pout-y lips into a smile, her cheeks flashing a soft set of dimples. She batted long dark eyelashes and her eyes were like blue topazes that sparkled just as bright.
His fists clenched at his sides and Dean grasped onto the anger that hummed just under the surface. She was a demon, a lowly creature that was driving him insane. "Bitch..." He hissed through clenched teeth, "You better get outta of my head."
She drew a toe through the sand, blinking up at him softly. The sun shone on her pale skin, her cheeks already tingeing pink. Her skin was no longer translucent, and Dean had a flash of knowledge at how soft her skin was under the tips of his fingers.
"This is where you're mother took you, no?" The succubus asked, a train of fabric moving over the sand as she approached.
The demon looked at him like a cat eyeing a bowl of cream, her gaze slowly moving up and down his form. She closed in on him, resting a delicate hand on the curve of his cheek. Water crashed around their legs, the material of her dress melting away into nothingness. Dean jerked backwards, stumbling away as if he'd been burnt. He had, but not with heat. Her skin was like ice.
Her eyes knitted together, "You fight me so. Why?" She tucked her ruby lower lip between her teeth in a mannerism that was reminiscent of Buffy.
She looked up at him innocently, and Dean could feel the pointed tips of her breasts pressing against his chest as she drew herself even closer to him. He could feel the slow dull thud of her heart against his racing one. Her hand was so cold, so unlike the hot sun and he shivered. She trailed the ice over his face, her fingers moving them over his body in a hushed whisper of pleasure.
"I offer you ecstasy. Don't you want to end the suffering? The ache?" She whispered seductively, moving lower to cup the heavy sack of his balls in her palm. She encircled him, tugging lightly as she nipped at his neck with her teeth. “I can cure all that ails you lover… if you’ll only let me.”
Dean jumped, batting her hand away and he took a shaky step backwards. "Stay the fuck away from me demon whore."
The succubus seemed to ponder that for a second, her eyes titled upwards towards the heaven less sky. She basked in the sunlight, and Dean watched the delicate lines of her face curve into a smile. She lowered the point of her chin, "It is not me who you want." She said it simply as she trailed around his body in a circle.
The next time she spoke her lips were pressed against his ear and her hands were moving over his shoulders and down his chest. “Do you love her?”
Dean fought, his teeth grinding against one another to hold his body steady. He could feel her breasts against his back, the ocean waves moving against the back of his thighs like silk. He could feel the softness of her lips as she sucked on his ear lobe, blowing a cool breath across his skin that seemed to flow over his entire being. She circled him, tauntingly, fingers trailing over his shoulders as she went. She came to a stop in front of him, her head tilted upwards in an invitation for a kiss but when Dean looked down, it wasn’t the succubus.
Large green eyes batted up at him, full lips curving into a heart-stopping smile as Buffy drew a warm hand over his heart. It skipped a beat.
He sucked in a breath that was baited with vanilla, and he could taste her essence on his lips. The waves disappeared, and Dean suddenly found himself on the shore once more, just a hint of crashing water in the distance. The sun kissed her skin, bronzing her line of nose and the high contours of her cheeks. Her hair shimmered in the yellowing rays of light, lessening the blonde shade almost before his eyes. Her mossy depths were bight, iridescent with love as the hand she pressed against his chest moved to cup the back of his neck.
"Dean..." She moaned with promise, submitting into the curve of his body as she panted against his neck. “Do you love me?”
Dean felt his knees buckle, and with a force that was out of his control his hands roamed over her nude body like it was the most precious thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. He started with the flair of her hips, hands trailing upwards until he could cup the now familiar weight of her breasts that were pressed between their bodies. They were full and perky, fitting perfectly in his palm. She moaned his name like a prayer, silently begging as she gently scratched her nails up and down his arms.
Behind them the ocean pounded the shore, waves cresting and peaking in an intensity that broke the tiny granules of sand into smaller and smaller pieces until they vanished. Dean bent, smoothing his hands away from her breast and down her back until he cupped her ass in his hands. He ground her hips against his erection, his mouth slanting over hers.
Their lips met softly, a gentle melting of tongues as he poured himself into her like it was his last wish. Dean felt the world spinning, but he knew he was standing still. After long seconds Buffy pulled away, her eyes fluttering in passion.
"Do you want me?" Buffy whimpered, biting her lip in question.
Dean closed his eyes, inhaling her scent as breathed her in and nodded. "Yes." He whispered in answer to both questions, his voice breaking with the strain he felt at having to hold himself upright.
The blonde’s lips curved into a smile before she pressed a chaste kiss against the line of his jaw. Her lips moved downwards, teeth nibbling against his throat. Her mouth drew along the line of his collar, lips exploring his flat nipples as she sucked them into her mouth. Nimble hands trailed down his abdomen, the muscles rippling in excitement before she took him into her hand. With a maddening slowness she stroked him up and down, her hair ticking his chest as she knelt in the sand before him.
Buffy looked up at him with a demure smile - asking a silent question that he heard echoing inside of his head. Dean’s instinctually arched his body against her hand, pressing his rock hard member in and out of the ring her hand created. Affectionately his hand cupped her head, smoothing over the silky strands before he threaded his fingers through her honey tresses. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but his words feel short in a deaf whisper when she wrapped her lips around his cock.
He sucked in a harsh breath, his grip tightening in her hair as she sucked him deeper into the haven of her mouth. It was wet and warm, and so damn soft as her tongue swirled around the underside of his sensitive nerves. Slowly she bobbed up and down, her tiny hand encompassing his shaft in an up-down rhythm that forced his eyes closed.
“Yes…” Dean panted as his breathing started to skip.
When his eyes opened and he looked down at her, Buffy’s lips were ruby red, scarlet and looked so dark compared to the paleness of his member that slid against the back of her throat. The pleasure moved through him in even waves that matched the ocean. Dean's hips flexed, pushing into her mouth like it was her womanhood and the blonde increased her rhythm in response. A throaty moan was torn from Dean’s throat as he felt teeth scrap along the underside of his shaft.
Consciousness pulled at him as his balls tightened in pleasure, and he felt numb. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to watch Buffy kneeling before him, sucking him hard and quicker as she made hungry little sounds. She was begging him to come in her mouth. Dean released her hair, his hands twisting over her neck to finger the puffy white scar there. She moaned around his shaft, and Dean let out a strangled cry as he felt his climax nearing.
His eyes blinked open and the moan on his lips fell into a gasp of shock. Where there was blonde hair, it was now black. The succubus rolled its eyes upwards, and before Dean could protest he felt the comforting press of lips on his back. His spine stiffened as Buffy trailed her hand across his shoulder blades, coming into view. She reached up on the tips of her toes, pressing her mouth against his to silence his cries.
She swallowed his moan as the wet sucking sensation increased on his manhood. Harder, quicker, stronger. Dean felt his soul slipping, felt the blinding pleasure building at the base of his spine. For all that it was worth, Dean closed his eyes and cupped Buffy's cheeks as he poured his love into their kiss.
Their tongues dueled voraciously, pressing and bating, chasing and capturing. Her hand moved down his abdomen, teasing his flesh until she wrapped her fingers around his length in double sensation. He cried out, but it was lost in the commotion of having two women racing him towards his pinnacle.
Dean looked down to see Buffy’s tanned hand move in time with the ruby lips that belonged to the succubus. They stroked him, bringing him to a fevered pitch that he knew was wrong but felt so damned good. The succubus stood suddenly, her lips swollen with lust. Buffy’s hand still worked him, moving swiftly over the wet skin. She curved her palm over the crown, twisting her wrist with every upstroke.
The succubus pressed her lips against Buffy's arm, trailing upwards as one pale white hand curved around to cover the blonde's breast. Dean whimpered, Buffy's hand moving deftly over the velvet hardness. Dean met Buffy mouth, and he felt her moan as the succubus attached her lips to the side of Buffy’s neck while she tweaked a dusty nipple between her fingers.
Buffy broke the kiss, pulling away with moist red lips as she rested her head against the succubus' shoulder. She panted, and Dean watched the pleasure move over her face as the black haired woman bit her neck and curved long fingers down the flat surface of Buffy’s toned stomach. Dean's hand moved up Buffy’s hip, trailing over her rib cage in an opposing direction of the succubus until he cupped her shoulder. He pressed down urging Buffy to resume her kneeling position. Time erased, and there was nothing but hungry moans, a soft breeze and the ocean’s continued push-pull with the earth’s tide.
The succubus leaned forward over Buffy, and Dean had a flash of sight where black caressing hair fell over Buffy’s shoulder to arouse her breasts. The succubus met Dean's lips in a fiery kiss, forcing a bolt of energy into his soul as she sucked his tongue into her mouth. It was cold, like sucking on an ice cube.
There was a throaty moan that Dean felt move through his lower body as Buffy took him into the heat her mouth once more, erasing the chill that ebbed inside of his gut. Dean felt his body being lowered, felt the scratchy sand against his back as he lay. The sun flashed blinding rays into his eyes as Dean let his head fall back. But his head didn’t hit sand; instead it rested on the silkiness of a pillow. What was once coarse and rough beneath him was now the velvet softness of a bed.
He sucked in a deep breath, still smelling the salt of the ocean heavy on his tongue as the two girls settled on the bed before him. They leaned forward, tongues meeting in the middle before they pressed their lips against one another. A needy sound escaped his throat as their kiss became passionate, as Buffy's hungry little cries reached his ears. There hands moved over one another, touching and caressing. Buffy cried out as a hand that wasn’t her own disappeared between her thighs. Dean fisted the sheets in his palms, desperation bucking his hips into the air.
The succubus pulled back from the kiss, pulling out Buffy’s lower lip as she guided the blonde head towards his aching member with her free hand. His cock was purple with need, the crown swollen and full, seeping come from his impending climax. Sharp nails trailed up his thigh as Buffy encompassed his shaft, her hips bucking against the fingers buried inside of her. She moved frantically over his manhood, sucking and licking him into a brink that he knew he’d never return from. The succubus knelt on the other side, her dark head resting on Dean’s thigh as she propelled Buffy closer and closer to orgasm.
Buffy's back arched as she cried out his name in a full-throated scream and Dean suddenly found him between her legs, no recollection on how he had gotten there. His arms were wrapped around her thighs, holding her open as he drank in the energy and power spilling from her. A cloud of need and lust swirled hazy red lines of pleasure around them. He felt lips, teeth, and tongues licking all over him. He felt a hand pulling at his shaft, stroking him harder and quicker. His mouth moved over the hard nubbin of Buffy’s clit as she moaned and writhed. Her hips bucked against his mouth and he felt the first sparks of her climax infecting his soul.
There were lips that he felt against his neck, a soft mouth moving up his throat. Hair tickled his skin as the succubus continued to stroke him off.
"Bring her Dean... do not fight me."
Buffy cried out, hands grasping the sheets, ripping them as her back bowed off of the bed. Power crashed down on him like the ocean’s powerful waves. The ground shook, trembling as he panted and moaned at the feelings overwhelming him. Dean's jaw worked harder, his tongue moving through the sopping folds as he sucked and nibbled. His fingers moved in and out of Buffy’s depths, pressing into her, stroking the soft spongy walls. His brain was hazed with passion, and nothing meant anything anymore.
"Yes." The succubus cried out, the sound moving through Dean to triple the pleasure that surrounded them a shroud of indecency.
The succubus pulled back, letting go of his member with a tight squeeze around the base. Her lips were frigid around his ear lobe as she tugged with blunt teeth. She moved behind him on the bed, stretching her arms as she grazed her nails up his chest, leaving red angry welts in her wake.
There was blur of lines, and Dean found himself on his back. The red welts disappeared under Buffy's mouth as she lapped at them. Her tongue was soft and pink, gently working her way up his body until she straddled him. Mossy green eyes met his, her face looming above his and she guided his throbbing member towards her center.
The succubus was there, guiding his mouth to her neck over the scar that was raised with thick puffy skin. His mouth closed around the mark, sucking the flesh into his mouth. Buffy cried out, shattering above him as she rode back and forth against his member. He wasn’t inside of her, but he could feel the drenching of her climax above him as his teeth sunk into the skin.
“She’s yours now Dean, she doesn’t belong to him anyone.” The succubus whispered into his ear, and he could barely hear over the loud screams Buffy keened as she trembled above him, coming over and over at again as he worked the scar skin in between his teeth until he tasted copper.
Dean flexed his fingers on her hips, quickly moving her body back and forth over his hard cock in a frenzy of movement. She moved with him, her breast dragging against his chest with every thrust. Dean’s mouth was stained with blood when he pulled back and looked up into Buffy’s eyes that were now blue. The sapphire orbs flashed as she cupped his cheeks in-between her hands, lowering herself onto his shaft.
Her mouth moved lower whispering, "Find her Dean. Find her and bring her home," over his lips before she sank down on him and his world shattered.
TBC…