Chapter Twelve

Media rounds meant ungodly early mornings. Dean groaned at the sound of the alarm, burrowing deeper under the covers pulling Elizabeth closer. Clinging to the vestiges of sleep, he kept his eyes closed until the alarm ended abruptly. Even on a normal morning he hated getting up but it was pure torture having to do so when Elizabeth was curled in his arms.

She was still asleep, or at least loathed the idea of rising as much as he did. Legs jumbled with his, hair tickling his nose, warm breath fanning his throat, she seemed to be enjoying her slumber. She had one arm tucked between them, the other draped over his.

"I'll hit the shower first." Roman's voice was subdued, rough with sleep.

Dean grumbled something in response. He felt Elizabeth begin to stir when the bathroom door thumped closed. He mentally cursed, for now he was too awake to entertain the notion of catching just a few more minutes of sleep. He shifted onto his back, the arm atop her moving to rest over his eyes to block out any light. She moved with him, fluid and warm, stretching like a cat, releasing a long moan that seemed to come up from her toes. Then, with a sigh, she tucked her body close to his, lips meeting the side of his neck.

"Shit," he mumbled. He was too sleepy. He just wanted to lie there and enjoy a few minutes of peace and quiet.

"Morning," she whispered, leg sliding over his. She tucked her thigh between his, her lips nudging his chest.

"Fuck." It came out as a whine.

"Now?" she asked. Her voice was husky, several octaves lower than normal.

He groaned. No. Not now. Not when Roman could come out of the bathroom at any moment. Not when he didn't really have the time to dedicate to making sure she enjoyed it. Not when her thigh was rubbing up against him and her breath was hot on his skin. The little things were making all the reasons why now they shouldn't have sex fly right out of his mind.

A chuckle caused her lips to vibrate against his collarbone. Fuck, when had that turned into an erogenous zone? She kissed the side of his neck, then the underside of his jaw. His hand wandered, found the hem of her shirt. He began pushing it up as her lips found his.

"We don't have long," he mumbled, grabbing her thigh and guiding her over him. He was aroused and she was receptive. She was also wet, he noticed with pleasure as his hand groped between them. He paused, eyes meeting hers when she broke the kiss. She nodded and he grinned, pushing her panties aside. Rubbing at her clit, he watched her eyes close, her moan of delight fueling his desire for her. "C'mon, Lizzie," he whispered, guiding his cock to her entrance. "Ride me."

Her gasp segued into a whine as she settled on him, the fingers on his chest flexing. Dean grabbed her waist, holding her still. Feeling the bite of her nails, he hissed, dug his fingers in. She whispered his name and he could tell she was trying her best to move but he maintained his hold, lips pulling into a smirk when she tried to sit up fully. "Dean…"

"Hang on – Stay still," he instructed, easing his grip on her waist. When he was certain she would obey, he dragged his hands up her sides, peeling off her shirt in the process. An uncharacteristic sigh pulled from his chest upon seeing her breasts, and he gave her a quick kiss before lightly patting her thighs. "Okay."

"Okay? I'm allowed to move now?" she teased. She sat up, her breath hissing as the covers slid down her body, hands resting over his. "Fuck…"

Sweat beaded on his forehead. He was trying so hard not to push her back to the mattress and fuck her into oblivion. Licking his lips, he arched beneath her. "C'mon," he urged, throat going dry when he felt her tighten around his cock. "Ahh, fuck, do that again."

"This?" she whispered. Her body remained still, but her pussy pulsed. Clutching and releasing and driving him crazy. She kept it up, even when one hand slipped between them and his fingers found her clit again. The resulting moan was loud. Her fingers curled around his wrist. At first he thought she was going to pull his hand away, but she held it to her, continuing to pulsate on his dick.

Had they had the entire day he would have let her tease and taunt. He was damn sure she could make him cum if she did nothing but sit on his dick and work her pussy. But that would take too long. Wide awake now, he reached to the nightstand, a groan pulling from his chest when she rolled her hips. He fumbled when she leaned down and lightly brushed her lips over his. His hand continued to grope, finally grasping the remote. Sitting up, he smirked at her squeal, silencing her with another kiss as he switched on the TV. He didn't care what was on, he just needed a sound buffer. He worked his fingers over her clit, eyes on the remote so he could crank up the volume. When he was satisfied he tossed the remote aside, wrapped his arm around her waist, and held her still as he began to thrust up into her.

She relaxed completely, giving him full control. Dean kept his lips over hers, teasing her tongue until she threw her arms around him. And, desperate to feel her body fully pressed against his, he reluctantly pulled his hand from between them, arm going around her shoulders to hold her close. Hair tousled from sleep tickled his skin, and he grabbed at it, pulling it from her face. She gave a little gasp, her thighs shaking.

"Come on," he urged, mouth dragging over her jaw so he could nibble at her earlobe. He moaned, working his hips faster, fingers clutching at her skin. She was rolling and squirming in his lap, nails biting at his back. He hissed when she dragged them down, the noise on the TV nothing more than a distant hum as her head fell back. Her hands dropped to his biceps, clutching, and her sharp whine filled the room. "Jesus-Fuck," he growled, feeling her start to go rigid. He stopped moving, attempting to hold her still in his lap. "Hold onto it," he instructed, giving her ass a gentle swat. "Don't cum yet."

"I need—" Her whine cut off into a cry when she managed to wriggle her hips.

Dean bit the side of her neck, sucking on the small patch of skin between his teeth. Maybe he was being selfish, but he wanted them to cum at the same time. Her nails dug into his biceps, another cry piercing the air. So much for a quickie, he decided, pulling back. He gently shushed her when she began to question him, hand lightly swatting her ass again. She began to lay back, a hopeful, inviting look in her eyes. Then, with a knowing smile, she turned her back to him. He didn't give her much time to situate on the rumpled covers. Grabbing her hips, he slammed into her.

She screamed into the blanket. Her legs shook against his, and he realized that she was going to cum no matter what he said. Licking his bottom lip, he laid over her, working his hips in the fast, powerful way he knew she enjoyed. He braced his hands on either side of her head, nudging the hair from her neck with his chin. Had he made her cum without touching her clit yet? He couldn't remember. He pushed harder, straining to make sure she took all of him in, enjoying the sounds she made more than she would ever know. Catching sight of the small mark he'd made on her neck, he began to suck at it again, eyes closing as she called out his name. She shuddered, hands flailing, and he quickly caught them beneath his, sinking his teeth into her sweet skin once more.

"That's right. Get it," he growled, squeezing her hands when she started to roll her hips to meet his. Feeling his own legs start to tremble, he sucked harder at her neck. The need to mark her was almost as strong as the need to cum. Not just mark her, though. He needed to mark her as his. "Lizzie," he breathed, stomach clenching. She suddenly went completely rigid and he pushed as deeply as possible into her, gasping at the strength that clutched his cock. Burying his face to her neck, he continued to nip and suck, pinning her down as she once again screamed into the blankets.

Panting, he bucked his hips, vaguely aware of her thrashing as he came. His back arched, every muscle tightening while euphoria took over. He felt it all the way down to his bones, a sweet release that left him without the ability to make a sound. Nothing more than a shaky breath passed his lips. Sagging against her, he gave her hands a feeble squeeze then let go, rolling away so he could catch his breath.

Elizabeth was the first to move, toes brushing against his leg. His body gave a quick little jerk at the touch, a harsh moan catching in his throat. Sitting up, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, she leaned in for a gentle kiss. She drew away, wiped some of the sweat from his brow. A man on TV enthused the power of the world's sharpest knife. She looked to the TV, then her gaze flickered to the other bed.

His brain was foggy, and he couldn't immediately understand why she hurriedly yanked the sheet around her. Grunting when she pulled at the sheet, he tried to sit up so he could help her, brow furrowing when she instead grabbed for the blanket that was hanging off the foot of the bed. "What—"

"Shower," she blurted, nearly falling in her haste to get off the bed. She muttered a curse and moved around to grab her purse, cheeks crimson as she hurried across the room.

Dean smirked, feeling more than a bit of pride as he observed her unsteady gait. But his brow furrowed again as she flung open the bathroom door, and it was on the tip of his tongue to remind her that Roman was showering when the door shut. Groaning, he sat up fully, pulling the top sheet to his crotch. He wiped himself clean, tongue dragging over his bottom lip as he thought of joining her in the shower. Of course, they'd have to wait for Roman to get out…

Slowly, his brain caught up, and he looked to the other bed. Roman. "Fuck," Dean groaned, pulling the sheet around his waist as he stood. "How long have you been out?"

"Long enough," Roman quipped. He was half-dressed, hair dripping on the floor. "Hang a fucking sock on the door next time, man."

"No one told you to stay and watch." Dean shrugged, pulling a pair of shorts out of his suitcase. His legs gave a wonky shake as he stepped into them. Dropping the sheet, he glanced at his friend. "…You're gonna jack off to that, aren't you?"

"Probably." Roman shrugged, expression unreadable. "…I thought you said it wasn't serious between you two?"

"It's not." He frowned when he tried to go into the bathroom. The door was locked. Pressing his ear to the surface, he sighed upon hearing the shower running. Was she upset? He couldn't understand why. It wasn't like anyone important had seen them. It was just Roman.

"Not serious? Well if that's the case…" Roman waited until Dean had sat down on the edge of the bed before continuing. He was smirking. "I want a piece of that."

Hmm… ;)