It wasn't like you to leave the bar with a stranger. But then again, it wasn't like your town to have a guy like Sam Winchester passing through. Add that to the fact that it was your stool he decided to sit beside, and you knew from the start that this wouldn't be a typical evening.
There were bad jokes and dimpled smiles and maybe a little liquid courage to steel your nerves, but then closing time snuck up on you both, and suddenly you were biting your lip to keep a nervous smile in check, Sam's fingers curling on your hip, guiding you into his motel room.
Carpe noctem, you told yourself.
He quickly had you forgetting any lingering hesitation, his mouth and tongue smothering your doubt, sure fingers coaxing out a bolder you with every inch explored. It wasn't until your arms were guided behind you, and there came the soft click of metal in your ear, that you remembered you were with a stranger.
In your surprise, your teeth came down, and he pulled away with a low grunt.
"Sam…?" you gasped.
He stopped immediately, the hunger on his face tempered with concern.
"Sorry, sorry! If you don't want to, we don't have to." His eyes flicked to the headboard, almost as if surprised to see the events unfolding there.
You shifted against the mattress, your senses conflicted, strung between the cold cuffs on your wrists and the warm palm splayed on your bare leg.
"You like this kind of stuff?" you asked, cautious.
"Sometimes." He smiled sheepishly, and you were brought back to the bar, to the silly puns and shared pretzels and little crinkles the corners of his eyes made when he laughed.
It drew out a smile of your own. "I didn't peg you as the type. This is, uhh, kind of different for me."
His eyes locked on your lips, and you saw his breath catch. All that from a smile? He really knew how to win a girl over.
But a bead of his blood rested on your mouth, unseen and unfelt by you. Sam reached down, his thumb lazily dragged across the plush skin, painting it sinful before claiming it with a kiss, soft and deep.
"How about this?" He murmured against you. "We give this a try, but if you don't like it, if you want me to stop, I will. No questions, no problem."
No sooner had you nodded your consent then he continued where he left off, and soon your only protest was to how his layers of clothing were desperately outnumbering your own.
"Remember," he whispered, and your world went dark as the silk of his tie was drawn over your eyes. "You're in control. Just tell me to stop and I will."
At this point, you wouldn't dream of telling him to stop, but life didn't care much for what you wanted: a fist knocked the door, the raps sharp and quick, like the bark of orders.
You both froze, listening. After a short time, when neither of you moved, the sound came again.
"Who the hell does that?" Sam slid from the bed, and your body immediately chilled with the loss of his warmth.
"Sam?" you called out.
"Just a sec," he answered, and you heard the whine of the door as he edged it open.
You waited for his angry protest at the interruption, or maybe the drunk ramblings of another lodger who had lost his key, but neither came.
Silent seconds ticked by.
"Sam?"
The pause seemed to fill your mouth, your chest, so heavy and quiet you could hear distant traffic, the sound of water running overhead in pipes, but not Sam.
You twisted your wrists within the cuffs, scraped your cheek against the pillow, but your lover, apparently, was well versed in tying a knot.
"Sam?"
The door was still open. You could feel the autumn air slip in, drawing icy fingers between your breasts, along your ribs, licking the skin Sam left vulnerable and exposed.
But still there was no sound, no murmur or reassurance. Nothing.
Not until the door whispered closed, the creak of the wood like a snicker in the dark.
"Sam!"
You pulled at your bonds, even as you felt the bed dip and a warm palm stroke your hair.
"Sam, get me out of this! I don't want to do this anymore. I'm scared."
"Oh, sweetheart."
Your heart stilled, so that your world was narrowed to only the sound of your ragged breathing and Ruby's whisper at your ear.
"You don't know the meaning of the word. Yet."