Dean stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. For a moment, he just watched his college girl. She had always loved to read before bed: thick ass books, non-fiction. He'd never heard the names Noam Chomsky or Henry Louis Gates before or since going to bed with Cassie. He still wasn't sure who those dudes were, but he figured they were eggheads like his brother, probably.

Thinking of Sam, he fired off a text: 'Stay gone. 3-5 hrs.' The phone played its mechanical melody as he turned it off. The thing landed on the carpet with a dull thud. His belt buckle clanked as he tugged it open, loudly for the benefit of his currently disinterested audience.

Cassie's mouth twitched, but kept her eyes glued to the page, reading over the same line again and again even as her body tingled with awareness of him undressing.

Dean waited at the edge of the bed until she couldn't resist anymore. Her eyes flicked up at him. First, she took in his devilishly grinning face. Then, her eyes fell to his belt, dangling open. He beckoned to her with a crook of his finger, "Come here."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I don't like it when you try to control me."

"Sometimes you do."

Her expression remained schooled, an unfazed mask completely belying the furious heat licking at her chest. She let out a breath through slightly parted lips. Then, she put her book on the night stand, crawled across the mattress and knelt on the bed in front of him, so they were eye to eye.

Her hands slid slowly down his shoulders, playing with one of the fraying sleeves of his ancient grey t-shirt. Dean must have had this thing since he was a teenager. Her eyes fluttered shut as she rubbed her face against his collar. For a moment, she lost herself in the musk of his skin, breathing in the faint notes of motor oil and gun grease and grilled meat and motel soap. A thousand washes couldn't entirely remove those smells from his clothes. Five years of dating men with expensive colognes hadn't erased them entirely from her memory.

Dean pulled the shirt over his head. "You want it?"

"Shut up." She snatched the thing and pelted it at him.

Dean tossed the shirt across the room and watched her small hands flit down his chest. One set of nimble fingers hooked under the elastic of his boxers while the other hand pinched his nipple, hard.

"You little…" Suddenly inflamed, Dean grabbed her wrist and rubbed her palm against the bulge in his boxers.

Cassie yanked her hand away. "Jesus, Winchester. Where's the fire?"

"Right here." This time, he gripped himself and gave his hips a little thrust forward.

She shook her head in mock annoyance. This guy had never been one for subtlety, modesty or patience. So many of Dean's experiences had been rushed encounters with nameless waitresses in filthy ass bathroom stalls. He could count on 3 fingers the girls he had been with more than once. He put all that out of his mind and reminded himself to let Cassie take her sweet time loosening his button and unzipping his fly, no matter how much it drove him crazy.

She blinked up at him and he rewarded himself for his restraint with a brief kiss. His hands rested on her slender hips, fingers splayed across the crests of her firm little ass. Giving it a light slap, he murmured, "You like that?"

When she nodded, Dean rewarded her with a long, languid taste of what was left of the wine on her tongue. He licked lightly along her lips, the way she liked. He hadn't forgotten that she preferred a more chaste kiss and relished the press and pull of her lips. The control it took not to just plunder her open mouth sent a wild surge of heat through him straight to his already anxiously weeping cock.

Patience spent, he lifted and laid her down with her head on her cream colored satin pillow. He pinned her hands together over her head with one hand. She struggled for a moment, but relented as the fingers of his other hand passed tenderly through her thick curls. All at once, they fisted tightly, tilting her head back so that he could brush his face against the side of her neck. For just a moment, he paused to feel her pulse race against his cheek. He licked the same path and pursed his lips to blow cold air across her sensitive skin.

A chill surged down Cassie's spine, along with the warmth and an unexpected twinge of jealousy. He had clearly had plenty of practice since they were together. Their first time, Dean had reached for her panties almost as soon as they'd started kissing. To his credit, he had noticed that she was unimpressed with his haste. Breathless and rock hard, he had stopped himself, searched her eyes and coaxed, "Show me. Show me what you like."

There had been a girl or two, both before Cassie and since, that he'd thought of sticking around for. But she was the only one he'd ever actually tried it with. In that way, just like right now, there was only this one woman in the world.

"You're so beautiful." He brushed his fingertips down one of her arms and then the other, enjoying the way she shivered at barely being touched.

His palm pressed firmly into the center of her chest as he leaned down and softly kissed her again. The thumb of one hand kneaded her collarbone while the other lifted the hem of her

silky blue nightgown. Smiling and never taking his eyes from hers, he rolled down her panties. Then, he wrapped his arms around the backs of both of her legs and backed down the bed, lowering himself while stroking her thighs.

Suddenly uneasy, Cassie leaned up on her elbows, squirming to get away. "Wait. Dean. I should probably take a shower."

"Mm-mm. After." He didn't want to taste soap. He wanted to taste Cassie.

"Dean," she whined, but gave up trying to stop him.

He smiled and nipped beside her navel. Below her navel. Inside her thigh. Dean had only been to the ocean once in his life, but this was the way he remembered the scent of it. Not chemicals and fake flowers like some girls after they've just douched. Cassie smelled real and alive and a little bit nasty.

Dean hoisted her hips up towards his shoulders and took the dive. It was like plunging face first into warm salt water. Then, he began to lick, like she was a pussy-flavored ice cream cone that was going to melt. The obscene slurp and slush sounds become his whole world for the moment. He lapped up, around and between all of her soft flesh, until he had mapped out her most intimate anatomy with his gifted tongue. He grinned to himself thinking that as tamely as Cassie liked to kiss, she didn't mind him Frenching her snatch.

God, the way she mewled and cried and arched and contorted and gouged her fingernails into the backs of his hand, and clawed at his scalp, it was almost as good as being inside of her.

Dean slipped a finger in alongside his tongue. The thought of penetrating her made his cock twitch with anticipation. But he could wait. The first time they'd come back together, back at her mother's house, had been way too quick. Then, Sam had called before he could redeem himself. This time was going to be different. He was going to be sure she got exactly what she needed.

At the same time as Dean gently nibbled her clit, he hooked his thumb and gently prodded at her tightly puckered asshole. Cassie bucked and shrieked and blinked up at him with startled eyes.

He lifted his head, "You okay?"

She wasn't sure. This was definitely new. She put her hands on his shoulders, breathing hard, feeling her legs beginning to tremble.

He loved that he had shocked her and reveled in the way her thighs quivered against his face. "You want something else?" He didn't think so, but wanted to be sure.

She shook her head, speechless.

Dean dove in again, this time, focusing all of his attention on Cassie's sensitive nub. Sucking, licking, nibbling, he took his pleasure from her gasps as they turned into shouts and spastic tremors. He had forgotten that she could be so fucking loud. He was dying to come into her, but not yet.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, Dean. Oh god, Oh god." Moaning, Cassie twisted her fists into the sheets, toes curled, every muscle in her lithe body tense.

He twined his fingers with hers, buzzing along to the same rhythm as her cries. His tongue flicked as fast as he could make it go until her chanting became a low whine. Then, he gently licked her until she was purring. Stroking his hair. Thrumming her satisfaction.

Dean wiped most of the moisture from his face onto the sheet and grinned up Cassie's body into her half open eyes. "Sorry. You wanted to read."

"Shut up." Flushed and fatigued, she squeezed his cheeks between her thighs.

Cassie's breath still caught in her throat. She smiled sleepily as Dean clumsily kicked off his slightly stained shorts and hovered over her. He held his breath and his cock steady as he slid smoothly into her. Her fingers dug into his back. She inhaled sharply.

Pure fire raced through Dean's veins as he was suddenly afflicted by a familiar terror. It was a dread that was usually just a dull ache in the back of his mind. An echo of his mother's death, Sam's desertion and now, his father's abandonment. That all reverberated in his pounding head along with the foul memory of how this very woman had discarded him. Over and again. Cassie had chucked him out like he was trash.

He was suddenly so fucking exhausted from constantly being deserted. He would rather just die.

He would rather just kill her.

Bile filled his mouth, acid and sour, until he was sure he would be sick. All over her.

Seeing that Dean seemed to have frozen, Cassie smoothed her hand over his damp brow and gazed into his ravenous, anguished, bottle green eyes and whispered, "Fuck me."

He shook off the sickness, burrowed his arms beneath her. His hips snapped fiercely once. She gasped and he waited to see if there would be a complaint. When none was forthcoming, he clasped onto her shoulders and drove himself home. He slid into her wet warmth, pace and intensity mounting with each sharp thrust. Before long, the sound of sticky skin slapping together filled the room.

Dean lost himself, lost track of time and space and decency, good and evil, love and hate. His entire body strained, almost painfully before he shuddered his release with a long, low groan. Even after he had filled her, he shook violently for a few moments, gasping roughly, like a drowning man.

Cassie rubbed her hands soothingly up and down his clammy back. Goosebumps popped out all across Dean's flesh. His body trembled again and a whimpering sound escaped his throat that didn't sound quite masculine enough to him. He cleared his throat and leaned up on his elbows to search her face. Satisfied that she was satisfied, he smiled and kissed her. Then, he dropped his body down on top of her.

They lay for a while, basking in the sound of their calming breaths. "Am I too heavy?"

Cassie shook her head: No.

Dean thought of asking if it was all right that he was still inside her, but he couldn't bear risking the wrong answer. "I love you." The words fell out of his mouth and stunned even him. He held his breath, waiting for Cassie's response.

An exhausted, ravished smile spread across her face. He kissed her cheek and watched until her eyes slip closed. "I would never hurt you."

Cassie whispered, "Go to sleep."