Demon in the Sack
Summary:The new girl in town gets more than she bargains for when she encounters a bad boy drifter at the bar.
You feel so stupid being at the bar alone. It's been a long time since you've been with a man, and you're new in town. Back at home, you always went out with a group of your friends. In groups, you feel more comfortable with that buffer, and now you're feeling vulnerable.
You nervously twirl a strand of your hair. You take a sip of the appletini that you haven't let out of your sight since you ordered it. Your eyes cautiously decide to scan the bar scene for any promising prospects.
Then, from across the pool table, he catches your eye. He has a haircut you can set your watch to. You can picture yourself running your fingers through that perfectly short brown hair of his. The man's skin is lightly tanned, and his face has a five o'clock shadow. His eyes are a hypnotic shade of green. He's wearing a dark brown leather jacket that's unzipped, a cotton, slim-fitting gray shirt with four buttons at the top, blue jeans, and boots with laces. He looks like a male model with a bad boy edge. You have never seen anyone like him, and you can't help but stare as he shoots pool. He's skilled, and he wins the game. A burly, bald, biker man with a beard loses. He swears and hands over fifty bucks to the handsome man.
The handsome man looks up and flashes you a grin that makes your heart beat faster. For fraction of a second, his green eyes seem to change to black. You think it's strange but chalk it up to being a trick of the light. The handsome man struts up to your table. He places his hand down on the wooden surface.
"Hey baby. You like what you see? 'cause I sure as hell do," he flirts, leaning in close to you. Perhaps he's trying to get a better look down your little black dress.
You uncross your legs and cross them again and down the rest of the appletini. "Y-Yeah! Uh, I don't really know much about pool, but you must be really good!" you stammer. You wish you could have said something more impressive, but it's pretty damn impossible with this hot guy leering at you.
The man lets out a bark of a laugh. "I'm Dean. Lemme buy you another drink."
"O-Okay, Dean!" Another drink may be helpful in putting an end to the way your voice is shaking. "I was, uh, having an a-appletini."
"Cute. Good choice. Y'know, I just love me some apple pie." Dean pats you on the shoulder and saunters to the bar. You watch the entire time. He returns with another appletini for you and a glass of whisky for himself.
"Wow. Y-You like drinking your liquor straight, Dean?" you ask. "I hope you're not driving tonight..."
Dean just laughs. "I got a pretty sweet set up nearby. I have to pay rent by the hour," he jokes, and you immediately know he's referring to that dive motel that's just up the street. "How about you? You live nearby, baby?"
You nod your head, some hair falling into your face. Your face is a dark shade of red, as you can imagine the kind of things that go on in such a sleazy place. "U-Uh-huh! On the other side of the tracks, though. A, um...one-bedroom apartment. Not much, but it's home." You take a sip of your drink.
"Well, y'know what they say about home, baby. It's where the heart is!" Dean laughs.
You feel like you might have imagined it, but there seemed to be a bitterness to his voice when he said that. Maybe he never has had a home. You decide against asking.
Dean knocks back the glass of whisky like it's nothing. He doesn't even cough as the liquor burns down his throat. Perhaps he's gotten used to that burn over the years. Maybe he drinks because he needs to drink. All sorts of things are running through your head about him, but you're just too shy to ask. There's something intimidating about Dean, yet there's more. He's definitely got a charm about him, one that keeps you interested.
Dean leans in close on his elbows. He tucks the hair that's fallen into your face behind your ear. He brings his big, strong hand forward and strokes your chin. Without delay, he fluidly moves in close, tilting his head as he brings his lips to yours. You gasp with surprise, and he takes your open mouth as an invitation, making his tongue at home. The whisky is strong on his breath. You have never kissed a stranger before in your whole life, but you somehow can't bring yourself to say no. You close your eyes, relaxing into the kiss that Dean controls, his other hand rubbing your shoulder.
When he pulls back, you feel like your lungs could explode. You feel breathless and light-headed as your eyes flutter open. "D-Dean..."
"What'd you say we go back to your place, baby? I'd just love to howl at the moon with you."
Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest. Part of you feels like this could be a bad idea, and the other part of you wants nothing more than to give in. After all, you could do a lot more than kiss if there weren't all these prying eyes. You quickly down the rest of your appletini and nod to him, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Yeah. Sure, let's do it."
It's pretty hard to run in heels, but you manage a quick pace with Dean's arm fitted snug against your waist, feeling like he would never let you fall somehow. You can't help but think how hard his body is and how good he smells. It makes you feel like a freak, but maybe that's what tonight is all about.
Your hands are shaking as you take out the keys from your purse to open up the door to your apartment. You make your way in fast, and your hand shyly grips Dean's, tugging him along and beckoning him inside. Dean kicks the door shut behind you.
Suddenly, Dean charges at you, slamming you into the nearby wall. You groan, the sensation hurting your back. You realize you may have just let in a bad boy who likes it rough. He keeps your shoulders pinned and kisses you hard. His hands trail down to your waist and then to your hips. Dean grinds his hips into yours, and you can feel his budding hard-on poke you in the thigh through the fabric of his jeans.
This boy is all hands. He's hungry for more. He brings his hands back up again and pushes the spaghetti straps of your little black dress all the way down. Dean is merciless as he kisses down your neck, assaulting the thin skin with hard kisses. He pushes the dress down further, revealing your strapless bra. It seems like he just rips it off, because in the next second it's gone. You let out a mewl, your hands gripping onto his short hair, but it slips through your fingers. You settle on gripping his shoulders instead.
Dean starts sucking on your neck, rolling the thin skin between his sharp teeth as he bites down. You may have just met him, but he seems to have plans of already trying to claim you. It hurts so good. You throw your head back against the wall, letting out a rather lewd sounding moan.
Dean pulls back just enough to admire his handiwork, his gaze boring into yours. A dark bruise is already forming against the side of your neck. "I like when you moan like a whore. Let's see what other sounds I can get out of you."
You're not sure how to feel about his choice of words. You find "whore" pretty derogatory. However, there is no denying how you are yearning for more. Your entire body is hot. Everywhere his mouth touches tingles. There also is that distinct tingling between your thighs. The cotton fabric of your lacy Victora's Secret panties clings to you. You are soaked from the attention that Dean has already paid you. In no time flat, the side of your neck is covered in five hickeys. He trails down, not overlooking your collarbone. A mixture of hard kisses, biting and sucking ensues. There are now a couple of more marks to match the ones on your neck, divided on the left and right side of your collarbone.
Dean yanks your little black dress down the rest of the way, and it gathers at your ankles. He kisses down your neck, mapping his way down to your breasts. Dean sucks down hard on your nipple, which draws a moan out of you. You grasp tightens on his shoulders. Dean alternates sucking on each one, making them become hard from arousal. However, when he adds biting to the mix, it's too rough to feel good.
"Ah, aaah! Dean, careful with your teeth!" you cry.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean replies. He goes back to kissing and hard sucking. You relax as he takes it easy on you, but then he reverts to his old ways. He bites down on your left nipple and tweaks the right with his hand, twisting it. You let out a whimper, white-hot pain shooting through your body. It's crazy, the alternating sensations between being rough and gentle turns you on.
You decide to be a little rough yourself. "Two can play at that game." Your hands move from his shoulders to his chest. You pinch both his nipples just as hard as he pinched yours.
Dean lets out a grunt. "Bad girl." Now a game between the two of you is beginning. "Bad girls aren't allowed to use their hands."
"Catch me if you can!" You push past him and squeeze by, getting a running start. A game of cat and mouse unfolds. Unfortunately, you get trapped in the kitchen by the counter. Dean is blocking the only way out. Dean catches your wrist from behind. He pulls you close to his body. You can feel his erection press into the small of your back and his hot breath down your neck.
"Aw, baby. You're gonna learn what I do to bad girls like you. I was being nice," Dean hisses in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. Your heart's pounding faster than ever.
The thought of being punished excites you. "Are you gonna teach me a lesson? You know bad girls don't go down easy." You start squirming against his firm grasp. The reality is that you couldn't get away even if you wanted to. Not that you want to. Tonight, you're his bad girl.
Dean lets out a sinister laugh. "Yeah, that's just what I'm gonna do, bitch." One of his strong hands grips your shoulder and the other tugs your panties down. You realize he has plans of bending you over and fucking you from behind right on the counter.
"Oh, yeah? That what you're gonna do, you animal?"
Suddenly, Dean shoves you forward with blunt force. You let out a cry as your head slams against the counter. Whether it was intentional or not, it's lights out for you.
Upon opening your eyes, you feel dizzy and disoriented as you come to. You try to move your hands, but you realize they are bound to the bedpost. Upon glancing up, you discover that you have been tethered by one of your scarfs. You're in a sitting position, back propped against the pillows of your bed. The only thing you're wearing is your birthday suit, and there is a buzzing sensation between your thighs. Glancing down, you see how Dean has helped himself to one of the toys in your bedside drawer; your silver bullet vibrator is hitting your clit. The feeling draws a sharp moan from you, and you shiver as electric waves of pleasure run down your spine.
"Good to see you're awake," Dean says with a devious smirk plastered on his lips. He's stationed on the foot of the bed, watching you. He looks pretty proud of himself. He is now free of all of his clothes. The lighting in the bedroom is dim, but you're able to take his entire body in. He is the most fit man you've ever seen. You wish your hands were free so you could touch those washboard abs. Your eyes scan down and take note of the tattoo just below his neck—some kind of black pentagram with a fiery looking circle around it. Your gaze also notes a strange mark on Dean's forearm. It's red, almost L-shaped, with two shorter lines beside it. You're not sure if it's a burn or a birthmark, but you're not really in the position to ask.
"How bad do you want my cock?" Dean asked, scooting up to sit between your legs. He placed a hand on your thigh, being eerily gentle to how he was in comparison to before. Maybe he wasn't always a bad boy. Your leg twitches under his big, strong hand, the constant pulse of the vibe making you close to the point of no return.
Swallowing back a moan, you find your voice. "You're an asshole. My head hurts," you laugh. "You should really be more careful."
"Baby, you can't still be mad at me from before. That was an accident," Dean claims. He leans in, kissing just above your eyebrow where your head was injured. "Just a little goose egg. You'll be fine."
You shiver again. As you squirm from the shockwave of pleasure, the vibe falls from between your legs and onto the sheets. The vibrator tickles your inner thigh, but you can think better now that it's not directly on your clit.
Dean cups your cheek. It seems like some form of comfort or an apology, but you aren't sure. With his arm so close, the strange burn or birthmark is now in your range. You sink your teeth into it, eyes ablaze as you look up at him. Despite being hurt, you still want it rough.
Dean groans from the bite before smirking. "Guess it's back on. This is a no strings attached kind of night." Dean picks of the silver bullet and presses it flush against your clit. He uses the remote attached to turn up the intensity to the max.
"Ah! Aaaaah!" Your whole body is sent into spastic motions as you have a very intense orgasm. It feels like you've just been struck by lightning. The pleasure overwhelms you from head to toe. Your eyes shut and your mouth hangs open as you take quick breaths. You writhe against the bounds of your scarf, wishing your hands could grip onto something. At the very least, the cotton scarf is pretty soft, which should prevent any kind of rope burn.
"There. Now that's a happy face," Dean teases, the smirk remaining in place on his lips. He leers down at you, pleased with how blissed out you look in this exact moment. He thrusts two fingers deep inside your soaked cunt, pushing them in all the way to his knuckles. He likes how tight you are as your muscles finish contracting.
"Oh, mmh…" It's all but impossible to form clear words, and you instinctively start to rock against his fingers. Your breathing and heart rate starts to return to normal, although it's starting to feel a bit uncomfortable with the vibe still on you.
Dean hovers over your body and straddles your hips. Thanks to the scarf, you're unable to move. He leans in very close to your face. "I think you were made for me to fuck you." He brings his mouth to yours in a hard kiss, biting down on your lower lip before invading your mouth with his tongue. You squirm beneath him, groaning. His erection, which has been pretty neglected due to circumstances outside of your control, pokes you right in the thigh.
You jerk your head back enough to speak, panting. "Dean… Nnhhh… Take that off of me." You always feel hyper sensitive after an orgasm, and the prolonged vibration is starting to hurt.
"Bad girls need to be punished. How about you stop worrying about yourself and start worrying about me?" Without further ado, he gets to his feet on your bed, lining his dick up to your swollen lips. Dean grabs a fistful of your hair. He yanks your face forward, earning a pained whimper from you. The scarf tied on your wrists tightens from the force of Dean's pull, and it feels like its tight enough to cut off your circulation.
Dean shoves his entire length into your mouth. You gag around it, as you feel the tip coming into contact with the back of your throat. You're unable to pull away with the hold he has on your hair, and the vibrator's once pleasant vibrations now irritate you. Dean is merciless as he starts to thrust his hips, moving fast. He buries himself in your warm mouth each and every time, causing you to gag more. It feels like you can't even breathe, and your lungs are on fire. Your eyes start to water as you choke on his cock. You turn your gaze up to Dean's face, seeing how his eyes are glazed in a sick, twisted pleasure. He almost doesn't look human.
"That's it. You take it, baby," Dean moans. He finally pulls back, and you take in huge breaths, wanting to fill your lungs with precious air. By this point, Dean's cock is rock hard and coated in your saliva. "Oh, yeah…" Dean sighs, staring you down. A shiver runs down your spine, and you don't know whether to attribute it to terror or pleasure. "Now the real fun begins."
Dean gets down on his knees in front of you. At long last, he shoves the vibrator out of the way, and it lands on the floor unceremoniously, still buzzing in full force. Dean puts his strong hands on your hips, gripping them to the point of pain. He hoists your lower half off of the bed. Another whimper leaves your lips against your will. Without any protection, Dean slams into your wet pussy all at once.
"AAAAAH!" Your loud yelp fills the room, sounding off in both your ears and Dean's. Your whole body shakes like an earthquake with a magnitude of ten. It burns but feels good, his cock filling you. Your inner walls spasm around him, and you almost feel like you could come again.
"Shhh…" Dean hushes, running a calloused fingertip over your lips before returning his hand to your hips. He starts fucking you at a relentless pace. A smacking sound can be heard every time he crashes his hips into yours. It burns and hurts like hell at first, but once you start to get used to his rhythm, it starts to actually feel good. Softer sounds escape your mouth, the pain transforming into pleasure. You feel like the dirtiest girl in the world as you begin to rock back into his thrusts.
Dean squeezes down on your ass, and his fingernails dig into your flesh. You groan at the pain, but you know you can take it. He holds you up with one hand; the other reaches towards your breasts. He slaps them around, causing a sharp, prickling sensation on your chest.
"Whore! You like that, whore? I can tell by how wet you are!" Dean cackles. "C'mon! Wrap your legs around me!"
Your eyes grow wide at the idea, and now it's clear that Dean has absolutely no plans of pulling out. Luckily, you don't have to worry about pregnancy since you're on the pill, but it's still risky behavior. It wasn't smart, but you want it. You obey, your legs locking Dean in tight.
He rams you at just the right angle, hitting your sweet spot. It causes your entire body to tremble worse, and you let out sharp wail. "Dean! Dean, right there!" you beg, delirious from pleasure.
Even though you're a bad girl, Dean obliges and doesn't deny you pleasure. He is relentless with each and every thrust. "Dean! Oh, oh…!" It's not long before you come a second time. You wrap your legs around him even tighter, and your eyes squeeze shut. Your toes curl as the pleasure washes over you, hips swinging back into his at the speed of light. Ironically, you feel like you're in heaven at this moment, though your behavior's more hell-bound. Your pussy is a vice around his cock, muscles clenching down.
"Fuck! Baby!" Dean comes in tandem. You open your eyes to watch the look on his face. For a moment, you swear his eyes flash black again, but then they're closed too fast for you to get a proper look. His body has broken out in a light sheen of sweat. His face looks softer with his immense pleasure. Now he's human again. You barely know him, yet you feel closer to him in this moment. You shudder at the sensation of him bursting inside of you. The rush of cum is warm, and the pulsing of his dick is better than any vibrator. You can't help but feel full and complete.
"That's my girl," Dean praises as he slips out of you. He releases your hips, which have crescent-shaped marks on them from his nails, and your ass touches the bed. Gravity sends his excess cum to the sheets, making a sticky mess pool around your thighs. He's wearing that debonair grin from back at the bar. He cups your cheek, being tender now. "You're a real piece of work letting a strange man into your house."
"I just couldn't resist you. You're not like other guys," you say with a grin. "I swear, you're the Devil himself, Dean."
Dean laughs and rewards you with a kiss. "Now are you gonna be a good girl and play nice with your hands?"
"For you, I'd sell my soul," you joke.
Dean undoes the knot and lets your hands loose. You rub your sore wrists and regard him. Dean lets out another laugh. "Be careful what you say. It just might come true."
"Yeah, as if," you snort. You wish Dean would stay a while, but he's already out of bed and putting his pants on. Somehow, you suspect it's not in the bad boy's nature to cuddle.
"That was fun." He dresses fast while you just sit there. "We'll have to do this again if I ever see you around."
The next day, you're hobbling into the office. In an attempt to hide all the marks, you're wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck. It doesn't matter that it's the beginning of August and eighty degrees outside. Coworkers give you strange looks, but they don't know. They couldn't possibly ever know about the best night of your life with the demon in the sack.