Summary: Dean stumbles upon another hunter so much like himself. When they’re connection grows inexplicably stronger, they find an answer they never thought existed.
Pairing: Dean x OFC (who looks and acts like Faith Lehane w/o the slayer powers)
Warnings: hand feeding, hair pulling, rough sex, ass play, no condoms, lap sitting, prostate massage, magical bond
xox: @glassjacket @boondoctorwho @cracksinthewalls @naughtygirlsarebest @fatestemptress @adoptdontshoppets @pisces-cutie @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @tumbler-tidbits
How did she not know that Dean Winchester was alive and bore the Mark of Cain?
In hindsight, her gut probably felt it the second he crossed the Nebraska state line – it’s probably why she was so wound up and why she fucked up – but she didn’t actually see the Mark until after she’d come three times and Dean was tracing her tattoo with one of his incredibly expert fingers. Every wet minute with him, every orgasm was more powerful than the last – and frankly, it scared her. It’s like the closer she and Dean got, the closer the Mark got to homing in on her.
Cain was killing off his descendants one at a time – men, women, and children alike – and the Mark was still connected to him in some way she had yet to discover. She lay with Dean curled around her, legs tangled, his steady heartbeat at her back, and his right arm slung over her, the Mark staring her in the face. She closed her eyes to it and shifted under Dean’s arm.
He sighed with his eyes closed, lazily drawing his hand along her spine then slowly trailing his fingers up again. Dim light cast down from the transom windows played over his smooth forehead, his pale eyelids and thick, long lashes, the smattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks. He licked his full lips and hummed, hugging her closer.
Eliza burrowed into his chest, pushing her nose into his neck, reveling in his scent. She hadn’t felt so close to someone, so intimate, in years. The last time she felt safe in someone’s arms, she was a little girl in her daddy’s lap. She felt tears threaten to fill her eyes, so she moved.
She kissed his neck, his collarbones, his chest, and swirled her tongue around each of his nipples before pulling each between her lips. She licked and kissed her way over his ribs and abdomen, and nipped lightly at his hip. As she made her way down, Dean rolled to his back, one arm under his head and a hand in her hair. “Mornin’,” he rumbled, looking down at her.
Eliza grinned up at him as she crawled between his legs, pushing his thighs open with her hands, then smoothing up to where he was hardening beyond morning wood. “Hi,” she replied, flashing him the dimple that she knew was kryptonite for so many people she’d encountered. She wrapped a hand around his thickness, squeezing gently and swiping her tongue around the head – all the while, holding his gaze.
Dean cupped her cheek and she nuzzled into his palm, humming, as she slowly worked over his cock, and then his balls, with her hands. “You should let me,” he says, running his thumb along her bottom lip before she licked the underside of his cock, long and slow. “Come on, hop up here.” He reached down and gripped her thigh, pulling, teasing.
She shifted to hover over him, straddling his face, elbows on either side of his waist, stretching her neck to lick him again. Dean caressed her thighs, kissing her everywhere. He paid special attention to that sensitive dip between her cunt and her thigh – on both sides – touching, licking. “Mmm,” his voice was a low reverberation of pleasure.
Eliza deduced from his sounds of satisfaction and his earlier performance that Dean Winchester really liked eating pussy.
She swirled her tongue around his girth and twisted her hand. He was hot and so smooth in her hands. She flattened her tongue as she took him into her mouth as far as she could without hitting her throat.
She couldn’t stifle her cry when he parted her lips and dragged his tongue from the base of her clit to her ass then flicked back down and pushed inside for the briefest of moments. She dropped her head to catch her breath as his lips wrapped around her clit and teased with his tongue. Her brain scrambled and she didn’t know if she could focus on anything but his mouth. Then he slipped a thumb inside her slick and joined his tongue at her clit with a finger, and she bucked back onto his face.
“Fuck, Dean,” she whispered, resting her head against his thigh, taking him in her hand once more. Her thoughts were all over the place and he wasn’t letting up. He slid his long middle finger between her ass cheeks and gently sucked and rubbed her clit, while slowly moving his thumb in and out.
Eliza admitted to herself that her oral skills did not compare to his – she preferred to receive, and she hadn’t had a lot of time with past lovers to get comfortable enough to practice and hone her technique. But, damn, did she want to do it for Dean so she threw caution to the wind.
With renewed effort and determination, Eliza slid her mouth back down over his cock and started to move. She gripped him at his base, trying to relax her throat to take him. Dean shifted under her and let one hand wander across her ass and up her spine and traversing the back of her ribcage before clasping a hand completely around her side and back down to her thigh. His soft but sure movements with his tongue and lips and fingers had her belly in knots.
Then he pressed his middle finger against the tight ring of her ass, barely breaching her, and his tongue was flat and hot over her clit. She gave up; she couldn’t take any more. She released his cock from her mouth and sobbed his one syllable name over three as she collapsed on top of him and let her orgasm roll through her, hard and long.
She could feel him gently rolling her to her back his hands smoothing over her skin. Then she heard the wrapper tear and he was sliding between her legs and settling over her. For several minutes they were full-body contact, skin on skin and he was kissing her mouth and slowly bucking between her thighs, his thick, hard cock rubbing her wetness. Then he rolled off her to his side, rolling her away from him so he could curve around her back. He kissed her neck, pushed his top knee between her legs and opened her, her leg hanging over his thigh just below his bent knee. Twining their other legs together to anchor her to the bed, he grasped her hand in his and reached down so they could both get him inside her. Their hands lay clasped together over her cunt and he started to move.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders from behind, restricting her further. He was testing her boundaries, but he had a distinct feeling that she’d like being held in place and he was always one to oblige. He slid all the way home, swiveled his hips, and switched his angle until he found just the right groove.
The Mark made Dean hungry for blood and violence. Until now, he didn’t know that it also ramped his libido. Eliza, being a hunter and seemingly equal to him in sexual appetite came along at just the right time because he would never be so domineering and rough with a random one-night-stand.
“I wanted to make you come,” she gasped, and he knew he’d found the spot, so he set the pace and kissed her skin again and again. She smelled like sex and for very good reason. He’d already fucked and eaten her to orgasm twice each. And he was nowhere near done. “But that fucking mouth of yours- uhn– I got distracted.”
Dean chuckled and pulled her earlobe into his mouth. He knew what his strengths were and eating pussy was very high on the list. He liked doing it and women always wanted it. Sure, they were sometimes shy about it, but he’d get them relaxed and worked up, and they couldn’t say no. And then he’d blow their minds.
“Plenty of time later for head,” he said, kissing her shoulder and she arched as much as she could, showing him the smooth expanse of her throat. “Right now, I wanna take advantage of how fucking soaked you are.” He groaned, swiping his tongue up the side of her neck and then biting. The wet pushing and pulling sounds were like a track to the hottest porno ever. “Listen to that.”
Eliza laughed and clenched around him in opposition with his thrusts, so every pull out, it was like she was squeezing him with a tight, wet fist. Dean left her to touch herself and raised his other arm enough to cage her hips, getting even better leverage. He slammed into her, gripping her right shoulder with his left hand and her left hip with his right hand. She would surely have bruises as a result. He’d have to make it up to her.
Eliza gripped his upper arm with one hand and pressed her clit with her other. As much as he’d limited her motions with his arm wrapped around her hips, trapping her wrist underneath, his solid sliding in and out and her fingers on her clit had her coming hard. He held her just as tight and fucked her through it. She was a mess and shouting and amazing.
As she began to quiet, he slowed his thrusts, rolling her to her stomach, never leaving her body. He untangled their legs and climbed between her thighs, spreading her wide open. Once he regained leverage, he picked up his pace again. His own legs spread wide, holding her open and sliding up into her, holding her still by her hips, pinning her down, rubbing circles over her smooth skin with his thumbs.
Eliza sighed underneath him, a boneless mass. Then she started moaning and shifting under him and he felt her clench around him. “Damn, I haven’t been fucked like this in… ever.” Her voice was husky and full of sex. “Promise not to stop?” Her breath was shaking and she was most definitely whining.
He felt his orgasm barreling down the tracks as he sped up. He wanted to feel her come again but knew he couldn’t hold out any longer. He could sense how good she felt right then, though, so he subconsciously cataloged the things he’d do to her later. “I’m gonna come,” he moaned. “More later, that I promise.” He dropped a kiss to her shoulder before finally coming – longer and harder than he could ever remember. Looking down at the woman beneath him, easily taking his thrusts, just prolonged it.
When Dean was finally able to stop thrusting into her, he stilled, gently pulled out, and collapsed to his back. “Sonuvabitch,” he breathed, raking a hand over his face. He lay panting for several moments as Eliza rolled to face him, then wiggled closer, resting her head just below his heart. They were both quiet for a while, Dean, twirling her hair around his fingers. He almost dozed off when his stomach growled loud and fierce.
Eliza laughed and sat up to look down at him. “You should’ve eaten cold pizza with me last night,” she said, running a hand up and around his neck. He broke out in goose bumps from her touch. She dipped her head and kissed his lips. “I know I saw eggs in your fridge,” she mumbled against his lips.
“I make a mean stack of pancakes,” he tucked her hair behind her ear and traced her dimple with his lingering fingertip. “Lots of syrup.” She grinned down at him and he felt that smile in his heart and his gut. “Butter.” He cupped her jaw. “Kiss me.”
And Eliza didn’t hesitate. She sunk into him.
IncogNinja 