A/N: If you're a person who watches SPN, I don't imagine you're easily offended, but I'm just gonna say right now that this next scene isn't meant to offend anyone. This was originally a joke that one of my friends suggested I throw in here, but then I got really… into it. Bless me Father, for I have sinned while writing some really kinky shit. This is straight up just a sex scene so have fun. I've always kinda shied away from writing super long, involved sex scenes, but I wanted to push myself to see how well I could do, because I have fun writing them (who doesn't?) and because now that there's no overall plot, I can do whatever I want.

Four

An hour later, she and Daphne turned the TV off and began gathering up the dishes and silverware to take into the kitchen.

"Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" Daphne asked. "You did tell Castiel you'd wear a dress and heels."

Brooke smiled. "Don't tell him this, but I'd like to get something blue. Dark blue, to match his tie. And my nails."

Daphne also smiled. "That'll be very pretty."

"Yeah. I can't wait to see his eyes pop out of his head when he sees me." Brooke laughed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Peter asked Brooke, his voice light, as he wandered into the kitchen. "You're the party girl. No dishes for you!"

"I don't want to leave you guys to clean up by yourselves," Brooke argued. "I'm used to hard work—I'll be fine."

"No, no, no," Peter said, taking a plate from her hands. "I insist. You go on to bed."

Brooke sighed, but nodded grudgingly and said goodnight.

"And don't worry about us," Daphne called as she walked away. "We sleep with a noise machine and earplugs."

Brooke paused, turning back to look at her, then slowly turned back around, her mind spinning.

She went into the hall bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth. With a faint, satisfied smile on her face—it had been a good day—she opened the guest bedroom door where she and Castiel had been sleeping for the past several days.

Candlelight bathed the room in a warm glow.

Brooke's eyes wandered about, noting each candle. And there was a heady scent to the air. Incense?

"Cass…" she murmured. And then her eyes fell upon him and her mouth opened slightly in shock.

He was dressed like a Catholic priest, all in black, with the white collar showing at his throat. He held a leather-bound book in his hands, and was gazing at her with an unreadable expression. He had his good dress shoes on, and she could tell that they had been shined.

"Castiel," she said, her voice catching, "what are you doing?"

A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he glanced at the floor. "I was going to strip for you, but… I did research on that and… I don't think I'd be very good at it. There are a lot… strange gyrations and hip thrusts." He gave a small shake of the head. "So, I… decided to do this instead."

Brooke was somewhere between wanting to laugh and wanting to tear the clothes from his body. "And what is this, exactly?"

Castiel was still smiling. He lifted his gaze to stare at her. "In lieu of stripping, I was trying to think of the most inappropriate thing I could. This is it."

"An ex-angel dressed as a Catholic priest," Brooke said, her eyes fell on the book in his hands again. "That's not actually a Bible, is it?"

"No. It's a copy of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets."

"Well, at least we'll have a chance of not going to Hell when we die," Brooke said, and laughed.

"Since we know God personally, I don't think that'll be a problem," he replied, chuckling.

A small silence ensued.

"So…" Brooke began, her heart beating a little faster. "You haven't actually told me what… we're doing."

Castiel took a slow, deep breath, and then his whole demeanor seemed to change. He stood up straighter, squaring his shoulders, and said in a very serious tone, "I hear you've been having impure thoughts." His eyes were dark in the flickering candlelight, his face almost grim.

Brooke stared at him, half-uncomprehending, and then she thought, Oh my God. A strange laugh bubbled up from her throat, mostly from nerves, and then she cleared her throat and pulled herself together. "Uh… Bless me Father, for I have sinned?"

"Have you?" Castiel asked, still very serious, and he took a step toward her. "And what sins have you committed, my child?"

Her mind scrambling, since she wasn't exactly sure what Castiel wanted her to say, she glanced off to the side. "I… corrupted an angel of the Lord," she said, half-smiling, and then forced her face into an expression of contrition, staring at the floor. Staring at the black, shiny shoes he was wearing.

The shoes moved as he came closer to her. "That's quite a feat," he murmured. "I'd be impressed if such an act were not so sinful. How exactly did you corrupt this angel?"

Brooke couldn't help it; she smirked. "Maybe it would be easier to show you," she suggested, lifting her head to stare at him.

Candlelight flickered in his eyes. He did not smile.

She felt her own smile falter.

"Am I to understand," he began, quietly, "that you are hoping to corrupt a priest, as well?" He was staring at her in a way that reached down into her very soul.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. In this moment, right here, he reminded her so much of the way he'd been when they'd first met, that she felt her legs turn to jelly. He stood before her, so unbending, so commanding.

She swallowed, licked her lips. "Maybe I need to be… punished for wanting such sinful things…?"

Castiel lifted his chin to stare down his nose at her, one eyebrow raised. "Maybe you do," he growled. And then he turned on his heel away from her and strode over to the bed. He set the book down on the nightstand and then sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at her from across the room. "Come," he ordered.

Tempted to ask, So soon? she bit her tongue and went to him, keeping her eyes downcast, her hands clasped.

"Lie across my lap, face-down," he said.

She stared at him.

He lifted an eyebrow at her.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked.

"I'm going to spank you."

Her cheeks flushed. She thought about it—thought of the feeling of the sting across her ass. It was very tempting. Then she smirked. "That doesn't seem very priestly."

"Are you back-talking me?" he asked.

She continued smirking, and then crawled up into his lap, straddling him.

His eyes hardened, and he opened his mouth—probably to tell her what a bad girl she was—but it was too late.

"I've already corrupted you," she murmured, rubbing against the stiffness of his cock inside his pants.

He grunted, nostrils flaring, and then reached around her body and slapped her ass.

She groaned, and then laughed. "It's too late for that."

"It's never too late for that," he growled.

She stared at him for a moment, and then lost whatever modicum of self-restraint she had and kissed him, shoving her tongue into his mouth. She began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

He inhaled sharply, holding her by the wrists. "What have you done to me?" he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers.

She smiled, amused by his commitment to the bit he was playing. "Don't you know who I am?"

He stared at her.

"I'm the Angel Whore," she said.

He held her chin between his finger and thumb. "Whose Angel Whore are you?"

"Yours," she breathed, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. "I'm yours."

"Yes. You are." And then he began to tear at her clothes.

Various pieces of clothing were strewn about the room, Castiel breaking his role for a moment to warn about the candles and making sure they didn't throw any of their clothes on top of one.

When they were naked, Brooke lay back on the bed, her arms up by her head, and stared at her husband—soon-to-be legally—and said, "What are you gonna do now, priest? Fuck the corruption out of us?"

Castiel stared down at her, his mouth once again a grim line, and then his eyes landed on the tattoo of his Enochian name on her left forearm. His expression softened. He moved himself into position between her legs but did not enter her yet, instead leaning down over her body to land warm kisses across her forearm, his breath tickling the skin there.

Smiling, Brooke reached over with her right hand and ran her fingers through his hair. He brought his head up to kiss her, more gently than before. She held his face in both hands.

"I love you," he said against her mouth.

"I love you, too," she said, and then laughed. "Do you love me even though I'm a sinful little whore?"

He smiled, running his thumb along her lower lip. "I love you because you are that, and for many other things."

She kissed his thumb. "We're gonna be married soon."

"Yes," he said, still smiling.

She sucked his thumb into her mouth, staring up at him.

His eyes narrowed and he pushed against her entrance with his cock.

She moaned, still sucking on his thumb.

He closed his eyes. "You're so wet…"

She wiggled underneath him. "Are you forgetting something?"

He opened his eyes again. "Hmm?"

She grinned. "Are you forgetting something or were you planning to impregnate me?"

"Oh!" he said, and, with a rueful smile, he reached over her body, to the nightstand, and pulled out a condom.

When he entered her, it was with a gentleness she had not been expecting, given everything leading up to this moment. She smiled, and moaned, and rested a hand on the back of his head as he brought his forehead down to her shoulder. And she allowed him to make love to her for a few brief minutes, kissing gently, making soft noises as he sucked each nipple into his mouth.

But after a while of this, the feelings that had overcome her earlier returned. "Castiel," she said, and gently pushed on his shoulder to get him to lift up and looked at her.

He gazed down at her curiously.

"Is the, uh, inappropriate priest still in there somewhere?" she asked, half laughing.

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes."

"Could you tell him to come out here and fuck me?"

Castiel growled and grabbed both of her legs, pulling them up and pinning them against his hips. She gasped, and he gave her a wicked smile in response. He thrust into her so hard that she yelled, and he quickly let go of her legs and bent down over her body, pressing his chest against her breasts, and covered her mouth with one hand.

She breathed heavily through her nose, staring up at him.

"Quietly, whore," he said, and kept his hand against her mouth as he fucked her, his face very close to hers. "You will contemplate your sins in silence."

Her eyes went wide, but she did her best to keep quiet. Even when he was playing the Commander, he had never been like this. There was something more in this act than there had been before, and she found it incredibly captivating. She breathed heavier and heavier as she tried to maintain silence, but she knew he was fucking her harder on purpose, waiting for her to break, cry out.

And when she did—when she threw her head back and cried, "Castiel!" he was right there.

"I told you to be quiet, whore," he growled, and pulled out her.

"No," she began, reaching for him, but he was getting up off the bed. "What…"

He bent down, picking up his pants, and began to pull the belt out of the belt loops.

Brooke's mouth went dry. "W-What are you doing?" she asked, genuine fear in her voice.

He heard it, and turned to her, his demeanor entirely changed. He was once against just Cass, his face soft. He knelt down before her and touched her face. "I would never hit you with this—with anything—unless that was something you wanted. Unless we talked about it first."

Brooke turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand, immediately calm and ready to continue. "All right. So what are you going to do with it?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I was going to shove it between your teeth because you can't seem to keep quiet like a good girl."

Brooke stared at him in surprise, so turned on by whoever this man was that seemed to have replaced her husband that she could hardly think straight. "Give it to me, then," she said.

He stood up, folding the belt in half and held it before her face. She stared up at him and opened her mouth, and he pushed it inside.

"There," he said, sounding irritated. Once more, he was the priest. "Now if you can't control yourself, this will muffle your noises."

Breaking character for a moment, Brooke pulled the belt out of her mouth. "You know there's gonna be slobber and teeth marks all over this thing tomorrow, right?"

He did not smile. "Good. Now every time you look at this belt, you'll be reminded of tonight. Perhaps you'll be more contrite about your sinful nature."

Brooke's mouth opened slightly, surprised, and then she silently placed the belt back inside her mouth and bit down.

"Good girl," he said. "Now get on your hands and knees."

Heart pounding, she scrambled up into the appropriate position. Castiel came and knelt behind her, pressing the tip of his cock against her entrance. "I'm going to spank you now," he said.

She made a sound, muffled by the belt in her mouth.

He entered her first, and stayed deep inside her for a few long moments as she adjusted to him. And as he began to thrust, he slapped her ass. Hard.

She cried out, hearing the sound half-trapped between her teeth.

In a soft voice, he asked, "Was that too hard?"

She shook her head, no, her heart pounding, and dug her fingers into the sheets, waiting.

He slapped her again, and set up a steady rhythm of thrusts. The slaps came at random times so that she was never sure when one would land. Often, just as she began to relax her body, another slap would sting her skin, tightening her up again. He alternated cheeks, giving each one time to cool off as the skin heated up.

Brooke began to lower herself, to rest her face against the pillow, but Castiel grabbed her by the roots of her hair, down at the base so it wouldn't hurt, and yanked her head up. "I don't think so," he growled.

She whimpered against the belt in her mouth.

"What was that?" he demanded.

She fell silent.

"I thought so," he said.

After a few more seconds, she dropped the belt down onto the pillow. "Castiel—

"Father," he growled.

She paused, and then turned to look at him over her shoulder. "I'm not calling you Father," she said, flatly.

He blinked, and then nodded once. "All right. What did you want?" He had never stopped thrusting.

"I really wanna cum," she breathed, still staring at him over her shoulder.

He glared at her. "You really wanna cum?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"You're being punished, whore. Only good girls get to cum."

Her breath caught in her throat; she was still surprised at how much he was into this. Maybe being human had changed something. "I'll be a good girl," she said. "I promise."

"Will you?"

"Yes."

"You won't corrupt anymore angels?"

She smirked. "There are no more angels."

He suddenly grabbed her by the hair again, thrusting hard into her and leaving himself all the way inside her, until he was as far in as he could go, and pressing his weight against her. "Excuse me?"

She gasped, her entire body going hot. "I won't corrupt anymore angels!"

"Mm. I don't know if I believe you, whore. You have a tendency to back-talk. How do I know you're not lying?" He began to grind inside her, thrusting as little as possible, only pushing.

It felt so good, she thought she might lose her mind, and she almost forgot what she was supposed to be saying. "I-I'm not lying. I'll be a good girl. I promise. I'll be a good girl…" She squeezed her eyes shut, lost in the feeling of him so deep inside her.

He pulled out of her, and she cried out at the absence, reaching for him.

"It's all right," he said, reaching over to the other side of the bed and grabbing something she hadn't noticed before. "Flip over."

She did, laying on her back again.

"Here," he said, and placed something in her hand.

She squinted at it—she couldn't see it clearly in the low lighting, Castiel's body blocking much of the candlelight. "What is it?"

He took it from her and pressed down on something. It began to vibrate.

A thrill ran through her body as he handed it back to her.

He knelt between her legs and entered her again, but remained upright, staring down at her. "Use it," he commanded.

She pressed it to her clit and a satisfied sigh escaped her of its own accord. "Ohh…"

Castiel remained still for a few seconds, inside her but not moving. "How is it?" he murmured, his voice soft again.

"Mmm… It feels good." Brooke's eyes were closed, her head tilted slightly to the side, lips parted.

He began to move inside her, and she cried out, pressing the vibrator down harder on her clit so that the jostling wouldn't move it around. The next minute was relatively quiet, as Castiel focused on thrusting and Brooke focused on the feeling of the vibrator on her clit. Her orgasm came faster than she was expecting, though it made sense. Everything about tonight had been new and exciting, and Castiel's seeming new-found confidence and all that dirty talk had turned her on more than she'd been in a long time.

Her eyes fluttered open. "C-Cass…"

"Brooke," he said, voice low and breathy.

She stared up at him, noticing how different he looked in the candlelight—how mysterious and intimidating, half in shadow. "I'm gonna cum."

He groaned and bent down to kiss her, his tongue warm in her mouth. His abdomen pressed into the vibrator, jostling it as he thrusted, but she did not mind. She was so close that the nudges to her clit only helped.

In another moment, she had his body pressed tightly to hers, her hands tangled in his hair, crying out for him, though the sound was muffled by his kiss. He followed her into orgasm a few seconds later, shuddering, groaning…

And then he collapsed beside her on the bed, and they lay next to one another, breathing heavily, covered in sweat. The vibrator was still on, vibrating against Brooke's leg. Tiredly, she flopped an arm down until she hit the device and then she turned it off and went back to laying on the bed, exhausted.

After a few minutes of doing nothing, the air filled only with the sounds of tired breathing, Brooke turned on her side to stare at her husband.

He turned his head to look at her, one hand resting on his chest.

"So, what was that?" she asked, with a smile.

He gave her a tired grin, and then chuckled, and then full-on laughed. "Well…"

"You were originally planning on stripping for me?" she prompted.

"Yes… until I realized I would have had no idea what I was doing. I'm sure watching me fail at stripping would've amused you to no end, but I… wanted to do something… better than that."

"Uh-huh… So you dressed like a priest, because you want us to go to Hell when we die," Brooke said, and laughed.

He chuckled again. "No, I… Like I said, I was trying to think of the most inappropriate thing I could do. I almost dressed in some… silly demon costume, with the fake red horns."

"Oh my God," she murmured, trying to picture it.

"I thought maybe that would be too… traumatizing," he said. "Given our past. So I went with a priest, instead."

"Right." Brooke nodded. "Probably a good call." She paused. "What would you have done if I hadn't wanted any of that?"

He smiled, touching her face. "I would have taken off the outfit and done whatever you wanted me to do. I was just thinking… It was your party. And since I knew you hadn't hired any male strippers or… or anything like that, that I might try and fill that role."

"Cass," she breathed, staring at him.

"Yes?"

"This was the hottest thing you've ever done. Please do it again."

He held her gaze for a long moment, and then said, softly, "All right."

"U-Unless you don't want to…"

A slow smile spread across his face. "I want to."

###

Brooke awoke slowly, stretching all of her limbs like a cat, luxuriating in the feeling of the bed. She shifted—and felt a familiar soreness in certain parts of her body. Her thighs, her core… her ass. All at once, the memory of the night before flooded her brain. She turned her head to look at her husband. He was smiling at her.

"Good morning," he said.

She blushed to the roots of her hair, staring at him with wide eyes.

He faltered, eyebrows drawing together. "Brooke… D-Did you not like… last night—

She crashed her mouth against his to stop him from doubting himself, sucking his lower lip into her mouth. He groaned. She pulled away after a moment. "I loved it. I loved all of it… to a stupid degree."

He cupped her face in one hand, smiling softly.

"I just can't believe it actually happened." She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are one naughty, naughty angel."

"Ex-angel."

"Whatever… Father."

He stared at her with smoldering eyes and wicked smile, and then kissed her hard. But he pulled away all too soon, instead pressing his forehead to hers.

Together, they took five deep breaths. And then Castiel sat up fully in the bed and smiled down into his lap.

"What?" Brooke asked, sitting up with him.

"You know, we… we're not telepathic anymore. And I'm not an angel anymore," Castiel began.

"Oh, Cass," Brooke said, reaching for him.

"No, I'm all right," he assured her, taking one of her hands and squeezing it. "But… I did what I did last night partly to… to see if I still had that in me."

She studied his downturned face. "What do you mean?"

He took a breath, then lifted his head. "I wanted to see if I could still… satisfy you, without knowing your every thought. I wanted to make sure we could still communicate what we wanted." He cupped her face in both hands, staring at her. "I want you to be able to tell me things out loud—things you want, things you don't want. Sexual or not. I want you to be able to tell me… everything. Just like you've always done. And I want to be able to… to make you happy."

Brooke felt tears sting the corners of her eyes. She could tell how serious he was. "You do make me happy, Castiel."

He smiled. "Good. You make me happy, too."

They sat facing each other on the bed for a long moment, and Brooke felt her heart swell with love, grateful that she and Cass could finally have their happy ending.

And then her stomach growled. Laughing, the two of them got up and dressed, and went out into the kitchen for some breakfast.