PUBLISHED: 4/16/21

EDITED:

EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 49

REFER BACK FOR CONTEXT

I shiver from the warmth of his breath that tingles my neck. Before I lose control and tear all of his clothes off, I pull away, letting the pads of my fingers trail down his chest, and head back over to the stairs.

"What if we get caught?" My feet ascend the first few steps.

Picking his bags back up, he matches my movements, only keeping a few feet between us. "Dean can deal with it."

I smile. "Oh, really?"

He slowly nods. As we continue to head up the stairs, I almost slip and catch myself. Sam holds his hand out just in case and pauses. I start laughing. "You all right?"

"Yeah," I cover my mouth, slightly embarrassed, "I'm good."

He chuckles. "You sure?"

"Shut up."

"You know, you could just turn around and keep walking." The mischievous look on his face makes me wary. I narrow my eyes. "What?"

I take his hands and make sure they are both occupied with his bags. "Keep those to yourself." My feet move up a few more steps, cautiously ensuring that he doesn't reach out and grab my backside, and quickly turn to reach the top.

He chuckles and shakes his head, following after me. "Such a dork."

I trail behind him as he enters my room and tucks his things along the wall. He glances at the bed and smirks to himself, then peeks over at me and raises his eyebrows. I restrain myself from rolling my eyes at his reference to the last time we were in here together.

"Hurry up, will you?"

He purposefully stops to tease me. "You got something else to do?"

"Yeah, I have to fuck my boyfriend," I say rather bluntly.

His breathing becomes heavy and slow from my explicit desire, those hazel orbs becoming swallowed by his expanding pupils. He tilts his head inquisitively and points to himself.

I sigh. "Yes, you."

"You're my girlfriend?" he asks coyly, walking over to me.

His rough hands cup my shoulders and trail down my arms. I hum in response, almost forgetting to respond at all from the closeness. A couple fingers lift a corner of my shirt and dip ever so slightly in between my waistband and underwear.

"I want to hear you say it," he says lowly.

My face becomes hot as his parted lips leave soft kisses behind my ear. I almost feel my knees give way from the flames of arousal flickering in my stomach. The button on the front of my shorts pops free.

"Say it, Ona." He drags the zipper down, painfully slow, and locks eyes with me, waiting to hear it.

"I'm your girl—"

His fingers dive to feel the smooth, thin fabric, already wet and craving his touch. I let out a gasp that rolls out into a soft moan. My head tilts back against the wall as he paints down the middle over and over.

"Yes, you are."

He slides his thumb into my open mouth, continuing to leisurely circle every sensitive spot with his other hand, engulfing me in a lascivious inferno. I close my lips around it, letting it glide down my tongue and graze my teeth. Sam groans and latches that hand around my jaw, keeping his thumb inside. My hands move to his belt and effortlessly slide it out from the loops of his jeans.

"God, I missed you," he breathes.

I suck on his thumb, keeping my gaze low, and pop it out of my mouth. A thin trail of saliva lingers from his finger that he drags down my lip and chin. He swallows, his jaw clenching, as he smears it around my mouth.

"Show me," I mutter and lick it one final time.

A deep, guttural growl vibrates his chest as he tugs me close, almost thrusting into me, and smashes his mouth against mine. I snake my hands around his neck, allowing him to pull me up into his arms and carry me out of the room.

Just as we cross the threshold of the bathroom, a figure catches sight of us from across the way, his hand gripping the door. "Gross."

I immediately pull away and bury my head in Sam's neck. Oh, dear god. Why?

Despite being spotted, Sam's hands remain clutched around my backside. He seems a lot less concerned about his brother seeing us like this than I am. "Need something?" he asks sarcastically.

"No, you look like you've got your hands full."

"Oh, my god," I groan. Please let this be over.

"Yeah, I'm a little busy," Sam answers.

"Hey, make sure you're using protection," Dean adds, "Wouldn't want a miniature of you two running around. You know, because of the...powers...and stuff."

There's a long pause. "You done?"

Dean clears his throat. "Yeah, no, I'm good. I'll just be in my room. Praying to God that I don't hear anything. You kids have fun."

I grip a handful of Sam's shirt, telling him if he doesn't move away I'm going to lose it. The last thing I want is for Dean to imagine Sam and me...intimately. But I figure that curse has already been bestowed onto him.

The door creaks before it clicks shut, leaving us alone in the hallway. Sam peeks down at me and smirks at my hidden face. "What?"

I nervously chuckle. "You're killing me."

He hums in amusement, placing a kiss on my temple, and closes us inside of the bathroom. The lock clicks in the darkness followed by the flip of a light switch.

His hand brushes a few bruises along my side as he sets me down on my feet. I bite down to keep from making a sound but am unable to hide it from my face.

Sam immediately retracts. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's fine, Sam," I reassure, self-consciously wrapping my arms around my torso.

His cautious eyes drop to my defensive frame. A crease forms between his brows, worried that he's ruined the moment. "Do you want to stop?"

"No," I say, keeping my eyes on the ground, "No, it's just..."

A warm hand gently brushes my arm. "Ona, what's wrong?"

The emergence of pain bursts through the dam that I had been trying to keep fortified.

It all comes flooding back—the bruises, cuts, scars, my hair: the broken and beaten visage of a rejected anomaly amongst nature's natural order. Faint images of my reflection in the cupboard glass sweep across my vision. My fingers start to compulsively pinch the skin at my sides.

"How are you still attracted to me?"

The words drag against my throat. I didn't want to say it, but the thoughts had been gnawing at me ever since I got back. How could he even stand to look at me?

I dare not look at his face as I swallow the lump in my throat. His breathing slows, chest rising and falling at an even pace, but I can feel his heart pumping wildly underneath.

"Ona," he says, "look at me."

But my eyes are fixed on the ground with no intent on meeting his. I shouldn't have said anything. The moment is gone and I've ruined it. God, I'm so stupid.

Sam sinks to his knees in front of me and gently unfurls my anxious fists. "Nona."

With nowhere else to hide, my gaze reluctantly flits up. He kneels before me, resting back on his heels, and places a soft kiss on my joined hands. "Why would I not be?"

I glare at him. "I'm serious," he sternly insists, "Why would anything change?"

A tired sigh pours out of me. I close my eyes and sink to the floor, my back up against the sink cabinet. "I don't know, Sam."

The river of tears builds up and this time I just let them go. My chest rises unevenly as I inhale and remember what Zachariah had told me—what he did to torment me. "I...I can't even look in the mirror."

A long moment of silence fills the air as we sit across from one another.

Sam's thumb unexpectedly catches the wetness on my cheek and affectionately wipes it away. "Do you remember the day of your graduation when I found you outside of that coffee shop and we just sat there for a while, talking?" he asks, keeping his voice low and steady.

I only nod, trying to keep the remnants of the true memory separate from the mutilated one.

Sam takes a breath. "I was...nervous and afraid that you were going to leave and disappear. And that I'd never see you again."

I open my eyes, letting another tear drop. My stomach flutters remembering his young face and the purity that gave me all the calmness in the world. And here he sits several years later as if time hadn't skipped between that moment and now. His hair is longer, and he's matured quite a bit, but he's still the same. He's still the person I've fallen in love with. So, why wouldn't he feel the same about me?

He mindlessly stares at my legs, chewing on a small bit of his lip. "I wanted you to stay, but I knew you wouldn't. That place was a reminder of what you had lost, and I understood.

"I didn't know what to say, but just sitting with you was enough. Looking back on it now...I was in love with you then." He looks up and I swear my heart stops beating. "I wasn't sure what I was feeling, but I knew there was something. Every time I saw you, I just...Ona, you have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you for so long. I did everything I could to see you. And I still would. I don't care about what's happened. All I want is you."

Before I think twice and doubt myself, I crawl over to him, straddle his lap, and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. "I love you so much," I whisper and fall into a blubbering mess.

One of his large hands spans out across my back as the other reaches up to cup the base of my head. "I love you, too, Nona."

I smile at the name and sigh, relieved, like I can finally breathe. Those distorted memories, lies planted into my mind, were just that. And even if our lives were constantly watched by dark entities, time brought us here, in each other's arms. This is real.

His hand slides down around my jaw to carefully bring my face to meet his. The softness of his eyes melts the last bits of doubt and fear from my afflicted mind. He glances down at my lips and then back up again, as if asking for permission.

With the slightest curve of a smile, I slowly lean in and gingerly kiss him, our mouths delicately brushing. But when we pull away, the warm, alluring touch of each other's lips has us drawn back in, unsatisfied with just the one.

Sam's hands fall down my back and secure themselves around my hips, locking them into his. I quietly gasp from the sudden jerk and grind against it, eliciting a soft groan from his throat.

"I didn't want to leave either," I mutter into his parted lips. "I wanted to stay with you."

He presses his forehead against mine. "Will you stay with me now?"

"Are we still going to shower?"

Dimples quickly form in his cheeks as he smiles. "Of course."

I chuckle. "Then yes. I'll stay."

He pulls me in for another long, passionate kiss and reaches around to turn on the shower faucet. Rushing water begins to splash into the bathtub, which seems to amplify the need to tear each other's clothes off. I go to work unfastening the buttons down his long sleeve and hastily pull it down his arms.

Sam reaches forward to grab the edge of the counter and carefully pulls us both up to our feet. He then pulls my shirt up over my head and subsequently lifts me onto the sink. My fingers grasp at the waistband of his jeans to tug him into me, which doesn't take much convincing. He zestfully complies and slides right between my open legs.

I breathlessly sigh from the forceful contact and tilt my head back in pleasure. Eager kisses are peppered around the wounds as he trails down my neck and chest. My hand knots itself into his hair, overcome with the flurry of tingles. He aggressively grabs one side of my bra and rips it down, the strap dangling loosely off of my shoulder. Without hesitation the warmth of his mouth latches onto my exposed breast. I arch my back as his tongue swirls around it, releasing an exploding buzz.

He cups it in his hand while the other unhooks my bra and pulls back to let it slowly drop to the floor. In one sudden move, my back is pressed flush against the countertop and hips pulled hard into him. The slight twitch from his pants against my core coerces me to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him on top.

As his lips hungrily devour me, our tongues fighting for dominance, he reaches back and pulls the fabric up over his head. My hands immediately explore his bare back and chest, feeling the layer of sweat and heat, and dig my fingers into his muscles. His touch roams up my legs, permitting me to link them around his torso, and creeps between them. I gasp as a waterfall of chills erupts all of my skin. He dons a sly smirk at my reaction and that lustful gaze quickly dips below the valley of my chest and down my stomach.

His lips press into the curve of my shorts, forcing me to squirm and curl my toes in anticipation. "Sam," I plead, hoisting myself onto my elbows.

"Hmm?" he hums into the fabric.

The words on the tip of my tongue instantly become a jumbled mess and are tossed right out the window. And all that spills out of my mouth is a restless whimper, watching his warm, wet tongue lick a stripe up the middle of my shorts.

I shudder. "Fuck."

Steam begins to swirl around us, filling up the bathroom as condensation clings to our skin.

Two of his fingers suddenly sneak up, diverting around the fabric of my underwear, and dive into me. I sit forward with a gasp and grip the edge of the counter. He pushes them in and out, slowly, lovingly, and uses his thumb to rub that sensitive spot in a gradual circle.

Sam rises to meet me, the tip of his nose grazing along the bridge of mine. He listens to my ragged breaths with delight, reveling in the sounds of my euphoria. I rotate my hips around his fingers and moan as I grind into his thrusts.

"You're so fucking hot," he growls.

I reach forward, unzip the front of his jeans, and slide my hand down his bare skin. He jerks forward and sighs into my hair. With my free one, I grab his jaw and force him to look at me as I drift further down. My parted lips, swollen from the intensity, lean closer to his, eager to feel him pant and moan into them.

"Sam," I say, my voice soft and sultry, "do you want to put it in my mouth?"

His entire body shivers at the image of me dropping to my knees. As he sucks in a sharp breath, those dark, hungry eyes slowly blink and lower.

"Get in the shower," he commands.

I smirk and slide off of the counter. He doesn't move right away, forcing our naked chests to brush. While I have his attention, my thumbs hook under the waistband of my underwear and, in one slow number, drag them down to my ankles. His blistering stare trails down my bare skin like a fuse of dynamite. I look back up at him, leisurely curve my finger through the loop around his jeans, and lead him over to the bathtub. His gaze never leaves me, even as I pull the faucet diverter and redirect the rush to the showerhead.

The spraying mist sends little droplets into my hair as I dip into the tub. An array of hot, streaming water pours over my body and races down the goosebumps along my skin. It flows onto my face and through my hair, drenching me completely.

I wipe away the excess from my eyes and look to the young Winchester, frozen in place. "You just going to watch?"

He frantically blinks, bringing himself out of a daze, but that longing stare of utter enchantment doesn't fade. "I love you."

I chuckle and smooth down my wet hair. "Come here."

The speed at which both his pants and boxers slide off is...astounding. He abandons them along with his socks, as if they were troublesome to begin with, and steps in next to me. The water immediately cascades down his perfectly sculpted body and I'm unable to stop myself from marveling at it.

Is this what it would be like caught in the rain with him...but better?

His hands gingerly cradle my face and pull me in for a kiss. My back hits the wall of the shower and I grab onto his forearms, leaning into him. Our mouths move in unison, escalating to another stimulated frenzy of desire. His rough touch meanders down the sides of my breasts, gliding with ease around my slippery hips, and digs into my backside.

As our tongues are intertwined in a battle for control, my hand coasts with the stream of water over the ridges of his abdominal muscles and crest of his Adonis belt. He involuntarily hums, knowing exactly where I'm headed. And once I take him in my hand, aroused beyond belief, he comes undone.

"Ugh, fuck," he moans.

Turned on by his pleasure and submissiveness, I move him around to take my spot against the wall and sink to the bottom of the bathtub. He guides my hair away from my face and marvels down at me, heartbeat racing with excitement.

I keep my eyes locked on him, use his own fingers to open my mouth, and glide my tongue along the underside of him. He pants, instinctively jerking forward, and grips the shower bar. Amused at the struggle to keep himself together, the tip disappears into my mouth for a tantalizingly drawn-out moment and pops back out.

He shakily exhales and tangles his fingers into my hair. "Jesus."

Yearning to hear more fits of euphoria pour out of him, I go all the way and stroke him in the process. His eyes roll into the back of his head as his hand in my hair moves along with each stride. I let out a little moan myself, releasing a wave of vibrations that ripple down him.

"Ona—fuck." He whimpers. Again. And again.

That illustrious sound melts my insides to mush. I keep going, hungry with greed to hear it once more. I never want it to stop. He sounds so beautiful like this, crumbling to pieces from my touch.

"Ona, I have to fu—" Another breathy moan emerges from his throat as he pants, unable to speak properly. "I need to...fuck."

He suddenly tugs on my hair, releasing my mouth from him with an abrupt pop. Apprehension immediately creeps into my stomach. Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt him?

Sensing my worry, he lovingly runs his thumb across my cheek and smiles delicately. He takes a deep breath, continuing to hold my face, and eventually brings me back onto my feet. It takes him a moment to come down from his high and rearrange the jumbled words.

"If I don't get to fuck you, I'm going to lose my mind."

I exhale, visibly relieved. Oh, is that all?

He chuckles at my reprieve. "Trust me, I didn't want to stop you."

Truth be told, I don't know if I was even going to. Part of me had forgotten about my own stake in this and was entirely mesmerized by his unravelling that I wanted him to finish.

His fingers disappear between my legs and leisurely massage those sensitive spots from earlier. "But I have to take care of you first."

My breath hitches as I arch myself into him. He smiles again and pulls me in for another kiss. And as he does, I'm pressed back up against the wall and lightly set on the shower bar. He hooks his arms under my legs and hoists them up and around his torso. I adjust my grasp on the bar to balance out my weight and await his next move.

And with one sudden yet eagerly anticipated thrust, that invigorating surge of ecstasy fills my veins and lights me up like a Christmas tree. An exhilarated moan passes from my lips into his as we both relish in the intoxicating buzz that spikes with every palpitating pump.

"Oh god."

Sam groans as his fingers dig into the flesh around my hips and squeeze. I reach up to palm the wall and let him control the momentum. He takes me in his large hands and sends one shockwave after another into my core, pounding me into oblivion.

"Jesus, you feel so fucking good," he exhales incoherently.

His voice becomes rough and carnal as his hips collide with my entrance, sending me into blissful trance. Those ravenous sounds, like a predator about to devour his prey, have me climbing up the wall. Seeing the rainfall of water dripping down my neck and chest prompts him to seize one of my breasts into his mouth.

He bites down, sending sharp, glorious tingles down my body. "Fuck, Sam," I moan, out of breath.

That invigorating build-up of pleasure, like two attracting magnets spinning out of control and about to collide, paralyzes me into a delirious state. My hips unconsciously grind into him as each whimper that rolls off my tongue falls into chaotic disarray. The mind-numbing sensation climbs and climbs, and I squeeze my legs tighter around him.

"Are you going to cum for me?" he asks, low and husky.

I tangle my fingers in his hair and give it a sharp tug. "Don't you dare stop."

That cocky smile appears on his face and I immediately grab it and pull him closer to me. "You wanna hear me, don't you?"

Arousal flares in his lowered eyes and he picks up the pace. Every thrust moves faster and faster as the space between us is filled with quickened pants and moans.

"C'mon baby."

And with one final drive, my back arches and the swell of turbulent, sex-crazed lust bursts into a firework of ecstasy. The seismic waves ripple out to reach the ends of my curled toes and clenched fingers, and my face meets the sky.

Upon hearing the unabashed, salacious sound of his name pouring out of my mouth—hopefully contained within the confines of this bathroom, Sam promptly pulls out and lets out an orgasmic groan as he releases onto my stomach.

"That's my girl," he adoringly praises, chest heaving with each gasp for air.

I smile, panting as well, and gently guide the loose strands of hair away from his face. He watches me tenderly and slowly blinks as my fingers brush his cheek and ear.

"I love it when you do that."

The smile turns into an uncontrollable grin. "I missed you, Law Boy."

"I missed you, too, Nona."

As he gingerly sets me down onto my feet, I'm met with the softness of his lips and tender caress of his hands around my face. And in this moment, amidst the tumultuous events that may alter our course, I'm once again reminded of what it feels like to truly be loved.

☽||☾

Hi. Yeah, it's me again. Sorry I brought tears to the horny brigade. But you got the smut you wanted. Thought this was going to be like a one-hit-wonder deal, but I drove myself into a corner. "Oh, man. I have to write more sex? Darn."

More on the horizon...?

Wham_Bam_Sam