In only minutes you were sitting in the passenger seat beside Dean as his sleek Impala roared down the street. He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching over, pulling you close to his side. His hand rested possessively on your upper thigh, his palm warm, even through your jeans. His thumb brushed your bare skin through the ripped part of your jeans, his skin rough against yours.

With the alcohol coursing through you, making you brave, you slid your hand across the leather seat, over his denim-clad thigh, brushing against the thick bulge underneath. He hissed, his entire body clenching under your touch. And for a moment you swore the red mark on his arm almost glowed.

"As much as I'd like for that pert little mouth on my cock right now, I really don't want to wreck my baby," he muttered, taking your hand and placing it back in your lap. You made no more moves, letting his hand rest possessively on your thigh, wondering for a moment if you were making the right decision. After all, you had done your research on the Mark and the blade and you knew what they were capable of.

"Home sweet home," Dean spoke up, slowing the Impala to a stop in front of a run-down hotel room. Number 19, with its drab olive green door and green and orange curtains off to the left. The sidewalk was cracked, and you swore there was a drug dealer at the end.

By the time you were out of the car, Dean was already at the door, unlocking it and shoving it open. "What about Sam?" You finally thought to ask as Dean leaned against the doorframe.

He shrugged. "I texted him. He found another place to stay for the night."

You nodded, your throat suddenly dry as you moved to stand in front of Dean. He moved back, just slightly, enough that you could duck under his arm to enter his room. You immediately took stock of your surroundings, looking for any place he could have hidden the blade.

There were two beds against the wall on the right, the comforters just as ugly as the curtains. A small table sat off to the side of the window, a dresser, and TV the only other decorations in the small room. A duffle bag was thrown beside the dresser, your first hope that maybe the blade was in here.

Your appraisal quickly came to a halt when Dean spun you around, pushing you against the door. His large frame blocked yours, his hips pressing against yours to show you exactly what he was ready for. "I didn't bring you back here just to look the room over," he muttered low in his throat, his hand tight on your side. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts."

Quickly you shook your head no. "I was just getting time to adjust. After all, I don't do this often."

"Good," he growled, his hand sliding up your shirt to cup your breast through your bra. "I didn't think you did."

You tilted your head back, the feel of his large hand on your skin, even through the lace of your bra had your skin burning, and you wanted more. "Greedy?" He chuckled, roughly pushing the cup of your bra down while his other hand shoved your shirt up, leaving you bare to his gaze. "Beautiful," he whispered, running the pad of his thumb across your nipple. His other hand was working at the button of your jeans, opening them before sliding in to cup your mound.

You groaned, your hips arching into his touch when he suddenly pulled away. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you watched as he tugged your jeans and panties down in one move, leaving them around your ankles. Sinking down to his knees, he braced his hands on the door behind you, burying his nose between your thighs. "You smell amazing," he muttered against your skin, breathing in deep, causing you to blush. You had never had that type of compliment before, at least not for down there.

"Thank you," you muttered. "I pay a lot for my body wash."

He shook his head, his bread chafing the sensetive skin of your thighs. "No, it's no unnatural scent. It's all you, musky and sweet." Before you could answer him, he had taken his tongue, swiping clean through your folds, literally growling against them.

Your knees shook, and for a moment you weren't sure you could stay standing. But one look with those forest green eyes, so calculating, had you straighten them back up. "Don't you dare fall," he warned before digging back in as if your pussy was the last meal he would ever eat.

With his tongue swirling around your clit, his fingers found their way to your entrance, pressing, seeking before sinking up to his knuckle. You cried out, loud and long, and you could hear chuckling on the other side of the door.

"Dean," you pleaded, not knowing what you needed. But knowing you needed more. He looked up, smiling at you, his chin wet with your arousal before he dove back in. You could feel the coil deep in your lower stomach growing tighter with each movement of his tongue and fingers before you buckled. Crying out, you started to sink to your knees, but he moved his hands up, grabbing your wrist and holding you there in a bruising grasp.

Your body shook as you tried to pull away, the sensations driving you over the edge. Your head slammed back into the door, your eyes closed as the orgasm swept through you. Dean chuckled against you before leaning back. "That was fun," he boasted, his chin wet with your juices. "Now how about you get over on that bed."

Your legs took a while to move, shaking and barely holding up your weight as you left your jeans and underwear behind. Sitting down on the bed, you waited for his next order, because he was calling every shot and you were gladly going to let him. He came striding forward, adjusting the large bulge in the front of his jeans, eyeing you like a predator stalking his prey. "What should we do next? While I would really like to feel that pert little mouth around my cock, I really can't wait to sink into that pussy and wreck it."

You whimpered, aching deep inside at his words. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth so hard it almost bled, you spread your legs slightly, giving him an invitation to do as he wished. Growling low in his throat, he literally tore off his clothes before pushing you back on the bed. His large frame covered yours, his lips bruising yours in a kiss. His thick thighs parted yours, settling in between them as he leaned back. "I'm not going to take this slow and easy. It will be hard and heavy. It's your last chance to back out."

You shook your head, reaching down and grasping the firm globe of his ass. "I need it. Give it to me," you ordered, and with a growl low in his throat he nudged your entrance, easily sinking in, stretching you almost uncomfortably.

"You gotta relax or this is gonna hurt," he ordered, his entire body taut, ready to move. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to relax. The moment he felt your muscles unclench, he sunk home, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. With his hands on either side of your head, his hips began moving, drawing almost all of the way out before sliding back in.

You laid there, your hands clasped in the bed sheet, the feel of him rubbing against your walls driving you wild. You could feel another orgasm rushing through you, but it was quickly stopped when Dean reached over with one hand, wrapping it tightly around your throat.

Your eyes wide, you stared up at him, but his eyes were closed, his head thrown back in ecstasy. He was snapping his hips hard now, his skin slapping against your skin as his grip tightened slightly, your vision starting to fade. Tapping against Dean's arm, he finally glanced down, letting go for a moment so you could take a breath. "You can take it," he ordered, placing his hand on your neck once again. "Take it all."

This time the feeling of his hand tight around your neck wasn't as scary, and you could let yourself go under his tight grip and bruising pace. You felt it all the way from the tips of your toes, slamming through you with a force you had never felt before. Arching your back, your lungs bursting for air, you came, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Dean followed soon after, emptying deep inside you, leaking out around him before he pulled out with a plop. Without saying a word, Dean walked bare naked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

It would have given you a chance to search the room, but your bones had melted, your muscles refusing to budge. Dean had wrecked you, and you were more than okay with it. Stretching, you winced at the sore muscles, your entire plan going to the wayside as you wondered what Dean was going to do next.