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Dean's hand is firmly over your mouth as the other is exploring the soft skin of your body. Your back is to his sculpted chest, and his steady heartbeat feels like drums in the quiet of the musty motel room air.
"Shh, baby, don't wanna wake Sammy, do we?" He punctuates the sentence by licking the shell of your ear, which sends a shiver down your spine. Only a few feet away is Sam, asleep and blissfully unaware of the state you both are in. You try to shake your head 'no' but with his hand on your face, your movement is limited.
"Good. Always so, so good for me." His praise makes you sigh.
Your shirt, which is really one of Dean's oversized tees you stole months ago, was pulled up to your neck, exposing your torso. Your arm was behind you, your hand comfortably resting in his hair. Weathered fingers trace the curve your waist so gently they almost tickle. Dancing lower and lower down your front until they skim just under the waistband of your panties and stop. You huff softly at the lack of movement, earning a breathy laugh from the Older Winchester.
"Something wrong, sweetheart?" He asks coyly, as if he didn't know what he was doing to you. He moves his hand off your face just enough to allow you to speak.
"You stopped." You whisper
"Stopped? Stopped what?"
"Touching me"
"Poor thing. Your wish is my command," he covers your mouth again, and you're sure if you could see his face, he'd have a shit-eating grin plastered all over it.
He pulls the hand grazing your waistband agonizingly slow back to your stomach and traces more shapes onto your navel. Again you huff, a bit louder this time. Again, he asks a question he already knows the answer to.
"So needy. What now, baby?" He whispers in between planting butterfly kisses along your shoulders.
"You know that's not what I meant." You urgently whisper at him.
"But I thought you wanted me to keep touching you."
"Dean…" your groan comes out louder than you both anticipated. Dean is quick to smother you again.
Sam's snoring stops as he tosses in his bed. You both hold your breath, waiting to see if your noise of discontent woke up Sam, but fortunately, his snoring resumes.
"Naughty girl," Dean chides in your ear low enough to vibrate the back of your skull.
"Now," he starts, "You're gonna tell me where you want me to touch you and all you have to do is shake that pretty head of yours yes or no. Understand?" The eagerness of your nodding makes him quietly laugh.
"Here?" He starts tracing circles onto your tummy again. You shake your head no and he hums. Nails graze at your skin as he makes his way up your body, stopping just below your breasts.
"What about here?" You shake your head no again. His hand moves to cup one of your breasts fully, which makes your breath hitch.
"What about now?" He's palming them with such care you'd think they were made out of glass. It's an oddly sweet gesture that pulls soft moans from you. However, it's not where you want him, so you shake your head no.
"Even though you're enjoying yourself?" You pull at his hair gently in response and he hums in delight, "You're the boss, little lady." He gives a final tug to your nipple that makes you gasp into his palm before moving to trace the curve of your waist.
"Gotta be here." He jokingly whispers. Still, though, you shake your head no, more desperately this time. Catching onto your desperation and feeling pity, or maybe just feeling impatient himself, Dean glides his hand back to your waistband. Instinctively, you spread your legs wide to open yourself up for him. You hold your breath, half expecting him to find somewhere else to tease you, but instead, he creeps lower until his hand hovers just above the front of your panties.
"Here?" His voice is like caramel in your ears as you violently try nod your head yes.
"Aw, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask." He coos, and you try to shoot him a glare, but he places his hand fully on your clothed folds, making you gasp again into his palm. You throw your leg over his to allow him fuller access.
Instantly, he gets to work tracing your folds over the your underwear, a wet patch already prominent from the teasing he forced you to endure. He stops every now and then to rub soft circles onto your clit. The hand in his hair pulls harder and he growls into your neck. Gently nipping at whatever skin he can reach, he pulls his hand back up to your breasts and the loss of sensation makes you whine.
"I know, I know, I'm so evil. Let me enjoy all of you," now palming rougher at your chest, he pushes his hips into your ass and you can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants.
"Ugh—fuck—I don't have enough hands for this. Wish I could be all fucking over you, baby." Rolling your solid nipple between his fingers earns a muffled moan from you and another, louder, groan from him.
Sheets shuffling catches both of your attentions as you both freeze. For a moment, you had forgotten Sam was in the room. Dean's skillful hands took up all the space in your brain. Sam grunts, tosses once more, and settles back into blissful sleep.
"Fuckin Sammy." Dean grumbles. His hand finds your hip and he hooks his thumb under your waistband, "Raise your hips for me, princess." He orders, which you quickly follow, and he slips your underwear off in one motion. Cold air hits your now exposed cunt and you can feel the hair on your skin raise.
Dean's fingers find your bare pussy and the grip you have on his hair tightens. Again, he pushes himself harder on your ass. His middle finger slips between your folds and slowly glides from your clit to your entrance. Dean has to bite your shoulder to muffle his own noises and keep the younger Winchester asleep.
Rubbing small, slow circles into your clit without the barrier of your underwear makes the sensation all the more intense, and it sends jolts electricity through your spine. You can feel him smile through his bite. He drags his finger back to your entrance and pushes in to the first knuckle. You're breathing hard into his hand, which he can't help but notice.
"If I take my hand off your mouth, you promise you're not gonna wake up poor Sammy with all those filthy noises, are you?" He whisper is ragged, and it's obvious he's holding back to not fuck you into the shitty mattress. You shake your head, and Dean pulls his hand from your mouth.
He inches his middle finger down to the next knuckle and stills. Testing to see if you'd make noise in retaliation, but dutifully, you keep your promise and whimpering to a minimum.
"Good girl," he drawls, pushing his finger all the way into your weeping cunt, "Such a good fucking girl." He drags his finger out slow, and just as slow, pushes it back in. The heel of his palm grinds down on your sensitive clit, and you untangle your hand from his hair to grab his wrist.
"Dean…" You whine.
He only growls in response.
"Dean," You whine again, and push your ass against the hard print in his sweats. This pulls a moan from his throat, and he pushes his ring finger into your cunt. He pumps his hand in and out of you at pace that matches the rolling of his hips on your rear.
"Bet you wish it was my dick stretching out that pretty little pussy, huh?" He growls. You can only whimper in response, "God you're so wet for me." His pace is steady and it makes your head swim.
"You think you deserve it, hm?" Dean asks, voice low it reverberates in your own chest.
"Mhm," is all you manage to get out, not trusting your voice to stay quiet.
"Nuh uh. You gotta use your words and tell me how much you want me." Dean's fingers curl into the spongy spot in your cunt that rips a cry from your throat. He slaps a hand over your mouth, but doesn't stop pumping his fingers into your pussy, and urgently whispers, "Not so fuckin loud, sweetheart."
The bed across from yours, fortunately, stays silent. You both sigh in relief. The hand on your face gently lifts and traces your lips, instinctively, you open your mouth and take his middle and ring finger into your mouth. You run your tongue over them, which you feel Dean shiver from behind you.
"You fuckin slut. One hole not enough for you?" He's sucking angry marks into your skin, "Damn it, fine, you win." He pulls his fingers from your entrance and pulls his sweats down enough to free his already leaking cock. Lining himself up with your entrance, the slickness of your pussy lets him slide in with ease. He inches in slow, and you feel every vein as he bottoms out in you. He sighs like he's right at home and holds your hips in place.
"Mm, fuck, baby, you're taking me so well." He drawls into your soft skin, and you whine around his fingers.
He pulls all the out before sinking himself all the way to the hilt again. Your moans intensify, and your hands join his to try and stifle your noises. Feeling prideful at your inability to keep quiet, Dean hooks his other hand under your knee, lifting your leg up, and allowing him to go deeper.
"Christ… You feel so good. So tight. Wish I could stay like this forever," he picks up the pace. Soft, slick noises and slapping skin now join Sam's snores. Every drag of his heavy cock lights your skin on fire. It's a battle to keep your moans to a minimum and the way Dean hits every spot just right makes that nearly impossible. You settle for sucking harder on Dean's fingers and covering your nose with your hands.
Using the grip he has on your leg, he pulls your hips to meet his, every thrust knocking the air out of your lungs. You can feel yourself leaking onto the sheets and Dean.
"You're making such a mess, sweetheart," he growls, his hips slapping against yours faster and faster until his thrusts are grueling. He drops your leg over his and finds your clit. You gasp into another whine as expertly he makes quick, small circles. The knot in your stomach grows tighter and you push your ass back to meet his frantic thrusts halfway. He's an animal starved. You slide your tongue around the fingers in your mouth and he pushes them deeper.
A grunt from the adjacent bed stops both of you in your tracks.
"Shit." Dean whispers. The hand on your clit continues to work into it. You gasp and squirm in his grasp, grabbing his wrist. You felt Dean throb in your pussy and you throw you hips back trying to fuck yourself onto his cock. He moans into your hickey-littered skin.
Sam shuffles in his sheets again.
"Fuck, baby, stop. You're gonna wake him up." Dean's voice is barely audible you had to strain just to hear him, but at this point, the only thing that mattered to you was making both you and Dean feel good. Poor Sammy could watch you get pounded into oblivion for all you cared. Dean's expert fingers never once left your aching cunt. The other fingers in your mouth began to pump in and out as his hips slowly followed your rhythm.
Another grunt is heard from a few feet away.
"Ugh fuck, come on, you gotta stop for a sec." Dean pleads, but makes no attempt to stop his own movements. You're unsure if he was saying that to you or himself. You slow your thrusts back onto him, and he follows suit. The fingers in your mouth still. You both wait for what feels like hours, sweaty and panting, to see if Sam falls back into peaceful slumber.
Finally though, Sam starts snoring again and the energy in the room is electric.
Dean pulls both his hands from you and, without pulling out, rolls you onto your stomach. With him comfortably between your legs, he pushes your face into the pillow and leans down to whisper in your ear.
"You're doing so good, princess, stay quiet for me." One hand stays on the back of your head, while the other snakes under you, back to your sensitive nub. Dean pulls all the way out before slamming his hips down onto yours. You bite the pillow and grip the cotton sheets. Unable to raise your hips, all you can do is lay there and take it while Dean fucks into you like it's his last day on Earth. Fuck, you were close.
"This greedy cunt just keep sucking me in. God, I can't stop," He growls, tangling his hand in your hair, "Fuck, baby, I'm close." His fingers grind fervently at your clit as he sets a pace that clouds your eyes with tears.
"You want me to finish, princess? Huh? Want me to fill this pretty little pussy up with my cum?" Dean coos and you whine into the pillow, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. The fingers on your clit are relentless.
"Then cum for me, baby, cum all over my fucking cock." Dean growls, pushing your head further into the pillow. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. It pulses over you in waves as you finish. Wantonly moaning into the fluff of the pillow.
Dean isn't far behind you, as he bites your shoulder, whining your name and 'I love you's like a prayer. His hips stutter and he paints your walls milky white. Riding you both through your orgasms, he fucks his load deeper into your sore, soaked cunt. Eventually, his thrusts slow to a stop as he bottoms out, and you can feel him still throbbing in you.
You're both coated in your slick as he falls on top of you. Both of you are panting, trying to catch your breath.
Dean slowly pulls out and rolls off of you. You can already feel his seed drip from you and it makes you shiver.
You pull your face from the pillow and turn to Dean, who is already looking at you.
"You did such a good job, sweetheart." He murmurs, and runs a hand through your damp hair before helping you pull your underwear and shorts back on.
"Mm, thank you, De, so did you." You whisper back. He smiles, leaning in to plant a soft, tired kiss on your lips.
"I missed you voice" He whispers, planting another kiss on your lips and pressing his sweaty forehead to yours before continuing, "We should get some sleep. We've got an early day tomorrow." You want to object, but a yawn interrupts you before you can say anything.
"See? You just go on and prove me right." Dean plants a quick peck on your cheek, "Get some rest, sweetheart." He pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back and lulling you into the comfort of sleep.
The next morning, you and Dean are met with disgusted glances from Sam. Anytime either of you tried to interact with him, he'd turn away as quickly as possible or do everything he could to avoid any and all eye contact with you both.
"You're both sick." You'd catch him grumbling under his breath.
You think about apologizing, but can't come up with anything to say. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, Dean speaks up first.
"You know, Sammy…" he starts, "When a man and a woman love each other very much-" but before he can continue his very late birds and the bees talk to his grown, younger brother, Sam cuts him off with a yell.
"ALRIGHT, that's enough. I'm heading to the car." Sam slams the motel door behind him.
You shake your head in disapproval at Dean, who’s grinning ear to ear, proud of himself.