"Who's making promises now?" Dean demands, yanking his mouth away to bite at her throat, teeth sealing roughly over tender flesh. Fuck you echoes in his head, but he's not sure who he's cursing anymore, and it doesn't matter. The fury in his heart is leading him somewhere good, and Dean follows, guardless, reckless, hips moving him into her deeper still.
God, he wants to take her apart. Instead, he bunches up his discarded shirt, pinned ridiculously between their bodies, and shoves it behind her back, providing a support he's not sure he'll soon have the wherewithal to ensure. Pulling back, Dean thrusts in hard, counts the painful strain in his neck as acceptable when he leans down and rolls her nipple hard between his teeth.
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Date: 2011-10-14 05:00 am (UTC)God, he wants to take her apart. Instead, he bunches up his discarded shirt, pinned ridiculously between their bodies, and shoves it behind her back, providing a support he's not sure he'll soon have the wherewithal to ensure. Pulling back, Dean thrusts in hard, counts the painful strain in his neck as acceptable when he leans down and rolls her nipple hard between his teeth.