The door to the motel banged open, Dean stroming in, covered in blood and muck. "What the hell was that?" he roared, turning to face the young woman behind him.
Meg closed the door with a SNAP! "What exactly are you referring to? How I just saved your ass?"
"More like almost got us both killed!" Dean was scowling so fiercely that it would have scared any other person. But Meg wasn't a person, so she simply stared at the hunter, trademark sneer firmly in place.
"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you're looking for," Meg said, shrugging, "I stand by my actions."
Dean rolled his eyes and threw down the bag of weapons, "I knew this was a bad idea." He sat on the bed, not caring if the quilt got filthy from his clothes, "What I was thinking, I'll never know."
"Oh, would you shut the fuck up already!" Meg exclaimed, "The job got done, the witch is gone. Whe cares about the how?"
The hunter stood quickly and glowered at the demon, "I care. I'm not like you. I don't just throw my partner into harm's way and hope they make it out. I have their back."
Meg made a small noise of disbelief, "That mark on your arm begs to differ."
Absentmindedly, Dean ran his fingertips over the Mark of Cain on his right forearm. As much as he hated to admit it, she wasn't wrong. More and more he found himself caring less for the "saving people" and only about "hunting things". It was one of the reasons he and Sam had split ways. At first, he had Crowley as a partner but he was MIA. So, he had turned to his next best demon, Meg. He had resisted the urge to pray to Cas, knowing that the angel had his own shit to deal with. As much as the demon bitch made him cringe, anything was better than being alone. Even though he always felt alone, even with company.
When he snapped back to himself, he found that Meg was much closer than she had been before. There was barely an inch between their torsos and she was looking up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. She put a hand up on his shoulder, "Come on, Dean. Why don't you embrace all that delicious power? I can feel how much you want it." She stood on her tiptoes and licked his throat. She then whispered in his ear, "It's okay to go bad once in a while."
Something in him broke free in him at her words. It felt as though a dam had been set loose in his chest. All the hate and pain he'd been trying to keep hidden washed over him. His heart felt as though it would explode with rage. He pushed Meg roughly up against the wall. As her back connected with the plaster, she laughed. All that did was fuel the madness that had risen in Dean. Still pinning the demon to the wall with an arm, he pulled out his pocket knife, flipped it open, and pressed it to Meg's exposed throat.
"What's so funny, bitch?" he snarled, making a small cut and watching her blood slide hypnotically down the blade.
She didn't even flinch in pain. Her smile only widened as she said, "Evil Dean is intensely arousing. I see the appeal in you now." Her eyes turned completely black, "Fun, isn't it?"
The sight of her eyes caused a shock to go through him and straight to his cock. He'd never felt this way before. Sure, he'd been turned on, but this was different. He didn't want pleasure or release. All he wanted was power and he wanted to dominate. He wanted Meg to fear him. He wanted to make her scream. That was what he needed to get off. He tossed the knife away, grabbed a fistful of her dark hair and pulled her to him. His mouth found hers and claimed her, tongues tangling, teeth knocking and biting. Dean grabbed Meg's thigh and pulled her leg up, hooking it around his waist. This caused her hips to be flush against his. 'Good,' he thought savagely. He wanted her to feel how hard he was, what she had to look forward to.
She moaned into his lips as he began grinding his hips against her. She clutched at him, running her hands over his back. Letting go of Meg for a second, Dean peeled off his shirt and threw it to the floor. Then, he tore Meg's shirt from neckline to hem, leaving her in a black, lace bras.
Meg ran her hands over Dean's chest, lingering over his antipossession tattoo, "If only this were gone," she drawled, "I'd love to take a ride in you."
Dean leaned down and bit down on her throat, sucking a dark bruise into her skin, "I'm not the one who's gonna be ridden tonight." With a burst of strength that shot from the Mark, through his whole body, he put one hand on the small of her back and the other under the thigh that kept her standing and hoisted her up. Meg wrapped her other leg around Dean and put her mouth against his again. He supported her easily, with one hand under her ass. With his free hand, he unsnapped her brasiere, letting it fall away. With a snarl, he brought her to the bed and laid her out on her back.
Wasting no time, he put his mouth over one of her breasts, sucking and grazing his teeth over her nipple. Meg moaned loudly, running her fingers through his hair. He gave attention to her other breast as his hands roamed lower. He found the clasp of her pants and undid it. Dean to a moment to claim her mouth again before sliding his fingers into her wet heat. He put two fingers into her, her sigh of pleasure going straight to his erection. Abandoning her mouth, Dean kissed a trail down her chest and abdomen. When he reached her waistband he pulled her pants off in one swift motion. Slowly, he kissed up her thighs and over her hips.
"Don't be a tease, Winchester," Meg gasped.
He smirked at her before putting his mouth on her. That shut her smart mouth. He licked her, pushing his tongue in as far as it would go. She pulled on his hair so, in retaliation, he grazed her clit with his teeth. The cry that escaped her was almost inhuman. Dean ceased his ministration and discarded his pants in a hurry. The Mark of Cain was burning, as if the power was building up, craving release.
Meg sat up when she saw Dean's erection spring free. Dean grabbed her by the hair and forced her down, her mouth sheathing his cock. She dug her fingers into Dean's hips, tight enough to bruise. Dean grunted as Meg licked all the way up his shaft, before taking him all the way into her mout again.
"Ah... fuck..." Dean gasped as she let her fingers roam over his balls.
Meg slid her mouth off of Dean with a distinctive pop and pushed him onto his back. "I'm not letting you get away with vanilla. If you're gonna fuck a demon, you're gonna get dirty."
"Bring it on," Dean growled. He wanted dirty, no, he needed it. His whole life he'd been the perfect little soldier for his father. Well, not perfect, but his father hadn't known about what he and Sammy did in the dark. Then, after his father died, he'd been "God's Chosen One" for Castiel. And he had deflowered the angel as well. All his life he had damned every person he had ever loved and he was ashamed. It was time to stop being ashamed. He wanted to wallow in the sin.
Dean folded his arms behing his head and looked expectantly at Meg. She spread his legs further apart and began nipping the inside of his thighs. The slight pain of her sucking on him and biting made him grit his teeth. Still, every sensation went to his already painfully hard cock. Meg licked the crease of Dean's hip, sending a shiver through him. When she ducked her head down, he though she was going to go back to sucking him off. But then he felt her tongue slide smoothly over his hole and he gasped.
"Something the matter, Dean?" Meg asked, smirking up at him.
He shook his head, biting his bottom lip. With a chuckle, she put her mouth back on him, trying to push inot him with her tongue. A moan escaped his lips as she added a finger to the mix, sliding in easily. Dean hadn't been touched there for a long time, so every little movement was sheer pleasure. Without warning, her tongue was gone but thtere were now two fingers filling him. They were in him as far as they could go, being thrust in and out and sliding over the sweet spot inside of him. Dean couldn't hold back his cries. He could come just from being touched like this. He was nearing the edge when Meg's fingers pulled out, leaving him empty.
A small growl slipped between his teeth. He was aching now. When Meg crashed her lips to his, he grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped them, pinning her petite frame beneath him.
"How did you know that would be effective?" he asked gruffly, while biting her neck.
"You mean how did I know you weren't straight laced?" he could hear the sneer in her voice as she emphasized the word "straight". "You forget, I possessed your Sammy boy. I know all about that twisted love affair. And when Castiel was out of his noodle, he did a lot of talking."
Hearing about Sam and Cas made self loathing rise in his gut. He had ruined them and still he woke most nights and touched himself to the thought of one or both of them. He was damned. Time to act like it.
With a snarl, Dean pinned Meg to the bed, clasping her throat with on hand. Since she was a demon, he could squeeze as hard as he could and he would only leave a bruise. He knew he should be disgusted with himself. Not only was Meg evil, but there was probably a human girl trapped inside that body, screaming for rescue. But, even with all those factors, Dean didn't feel a thing. No remorse, only bloodlust. With one hand still around her neck and the other bracing her hips, he slid into her with no warning, relishing the cry she made.
Since he was controlling the situation, he pounded into her at a ferocious pace, not bothering to stifle his grunts and moans. He hardly felt human anymore as he let instinct take over, turning him into a complete animal. With people he cared about, even for the briefest time, he was a gracious lover. He always tried to make his partner feel as good as he did. But he was being completely selfish now, trying to get himself off with no consideration for Meg. Not that she didn't seem to be enjoying it. She had both hands wrapped tightly around the arm that choked her and she wasn't being quiet about her pleasure.
"Oh, fuck, Winchester," she cried hoarsely, "When you go darkside, you don't hold back."
"Shut up," he murmured through gritted teeth. But, seemingly to validate her claims, the Mark on his arm began to glow blood red, his veins showing black beneath the skin. He could feel the bloodlust renew in him as the pressure in his gut continued to build. He was so close. He could also feel Meg contracting around him. "Im gonna..." he tried to speak.
"Don't talk, just fuck," Meg gasped.
It only took one more, hard thrust to have both of them climaxing, screaming, and crying out. The power surged from the Mark of Cain, heating his entire body. Dean pulled out and collaped next to Meg, who was breathing heavily.
"Damn," she sighed, "If I'd have known you were that good, this would've happened a lot sooner."
Dean didn't respond. But when he felt the demon shifting closer to him, he sat up, "We're not doing that. This wasn't a bonding experience and I won't hold you in an after sex haze."
Meg scowled, "Stop talking down to me, you pretentious bastard. Take a look at yourself. We're not so different."
With a huff, Dean got up and walked into the bathroom. After splashing cold water on his face, he appraised his reflection. What he saw almost made him yell in shock. The eyes staring back at him, which were normally green, had now turned pitch black.