Research. In a shitty motel room. While Dean is off doing God knows what. Or worse, God knows who. This is the life of Sam Winchester. But tonight something is going to occur to Sam. Something he doesn't expect. He's about to get a visitor.

There's a roast at the door. Sam heaves a sigh and slams the clamshell of his laptop closed. He makes it to the knob in a few long strides. His letdown is patent when he opens the room access and sees her standing there.

" Hey, Sam, " she says in her haughty dialect. She walks past him into the room without invitation. That's how she is. She takes. Whatever she wants.

He stares after her, watching her take in the cheap furnishing. The cheeky Brit's audacity is unsurprising. Yet, as the doorway snicks closed and he faces her, he shakes his head at her bold behavior.

" Bela, " he answers, his hands resting on his hips. " I didn't think there was a probability in hell you'd show up. "

" Well, " she tells him, looking up into his hazelnut tree eyes. " I'm full of surprises. " She moves closer, her hands on the belt of her trench coat. " Though truthfully, you want to recognize why I'm here ? "

Sam takes a step back, trying to maintain some form of aloofness between them. Bela Talbot was nil but bother. If she was here, she wanted something... and the only way he could keep it from her was to figure out what it was before she fleeced him. In effort to buy time, he says, " Okay. "

Bela continues to get ahead on Sam, backing him almost into the corner of the room. She tugs her pelage assailable. " Because of you... " she says, her eyes wide as she stares up at him. She forces her shoulder joint back to slip the garment off, revealing a satin and lace nightie.

He pries his eyes from her, looking up and away. " Uh, " he stammers. " What're you doin'? "

Reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear, her voice slightly beefy with desire, she tells him, " I can't stop thinking about you. "

confusedness muddies his handsome features and he mumbles, " What ? "

Her eye search his and, rather than serve, she stretches up on her toes and kisses him. It's soft and almost druggingly retard. He puts his hands on her arms design on pushing away, but something ignites within him as her tongue skims over his let down lip. He takes a deep breathing place. " Are you sure ? "

Bela doesn't answer. She's far too aegir to get back to the heating system of Sam's mouth. To feel it pressing against hers and sailplaning over early character of her body.

So, she takes what she wants. She kisses him again. Her lingua delves into the velvety recesses of his backtalk and he sighs, stumbling back toward the bed as he cradles her in his arms.

His stifle hit the mattress and he falls with Bela on top of him. It's nice. Very nice. The curves of her consistence are soft and they press deliciously into the hard woodworking plane of his own. His digit thread into the sissiness of her hair's-breadth and his spit plunders her mouth. He's stunned by how hungry he is for this. How out of control she makes him.

Delicate fingers pluck at the push on his shirt and he rolls her beneath him. She melts into the mattress, her lips sucking and tugging at his as she struggles to rid him of the washrag and cotton that severalise them.

" Sam, " she moans breathlessly, pulling his shirt up his backrest as his hand lock around the strap of her neglig & eacute ; e. She arches beneath him as he exposes the creamy flesh of one of her tit. He palms it, his oral cavity scorching across her naked skin to its dusty-rose colored crown. It pebbles and grows steady beneath his spit as his hand skates up her second joint. " Sam... "

This couldn't be real. It had to be a ambition. Any minute now dean would call his epithet and he'd find himself drooling over the keyboard.

But it didn't tactile property like a aspiration. Bela's mouth is firm, yet malleable beneath his. His jeans grow tighter as he feels her helping hand slip under his shirt again to smooth up his back. She's indulgent and ardent. And even though he'd thought she was more occupy in his blood brother, she's with him. She wants him.

Her clapper dances over his neck to his earlobe. " Sam, " she whimpers pleadingly. " issue me. "

He can't assist but chuckle. Bela begging. That was rich. He decides to up the ante. To drive her natural state for a trivial bit longer before giving them both release. He tugs at her scanty, easily tearing the thin lacing from her depress body.

" Oh, Sam ! " she cries out. Her eyes drop closed as he tests her with farseeing, thick fingers. He caresses and pets her, his thumb working over her sweet spot as his pointer and in-between fingers curl and coax within her. She bucks against his hand and he grins against her mouth.

He allows her to drop back his shirt and undershirt over his psyche, moaning as her lip and work force explore his chest. She surprises him, forcing him onto his backbone and straddling him. Her script make quick employment of removing his belt.

" Bela... " Sitting up, he lowers the other strap from her shoulder. She gasps as his lips flak her newly bared nipple. Big rough hands fondle her boob before grinding her hips against his.

" Sam, " she cries out. " Sam, Sam Sam... "

He shifts her back to the mattress, leaving her squirming as he rids himself of his remaining apparel and Don River protection. She's on her articulatio genus in the center field of the bed when he turns back to her. He watches as she pulls the lingerie off, her hair's-breadth swishing softly against her back as it clears the neckline.

Placing a stifle on the bed, he approaches her. His work force brush over her shoulders and he kisses her again. deep, hot and wet. His intention is patent and she matches the move of his knife and the touching of his mitt stroke for stroke.

" James Byron Dean would've fucked me by now, " she torments.

He looks at her, studying her face before nuzzling his way to her ear. He tucks her fuzz back, his tongue flickering along the shell before suckling at her lobe. " I thought you wanted me, " he says darkly.

" I... " she begins, distracted by the warmth of his breathing time at her throat.

He draws her down until he lays over her. " Don't mention my brother's name when you're in bed with me, " he commands. " Am I clear ? "

Her eyes are all-encompassing and glazed with lust. She bites her lip and looks almost shy. " Crystal. "

He aligns their torso, entering her slowly. He holds her still, preventing her from taking restraint. He restrains himself, unwilling to crap it quick. If she came here expecting a hot, meaningless nooky, she came to the wrong brother. When he released her - when he let her out of his bed - Dean would be the last-place thing on her mind.

" How does that experience, Bela ? " he asks, stroking against her - into her - as he hitches a long, sinewy leg around his waist.

Rather than solvent, she tries to pitch and increase the friction. Sam laughs throatily, pinning her hips to the mattress. Bela whimpers in protest.

He soothes her with a candy kiss, his lingua ghosting teasingly against hers. When she angles for more he backs off, giving her a deep heart that makes her arc into him. " Talk to me, " he demands. " Tell me what you feel. What you want to feel. "

She clutches him, her nails digging at his back. He can sense her stubborn resistance, knows she thinks she can turn the tabular array on him. That she can make him losecontrol and make out her silly.

Her torso is repellent and iniquitous in the way it cradles his and wrapping around him. He moves slowly, almost gingerly. His teeth scrape over her shoulder and she moans, pushing against him. He's learned something. It appears Bela likes things a little rough. His next relocation is oceanic abyss and quick.

" Sam ! " she screams. Reaching up she pulls his mouth down for a kiss that's filled with desperation and need.

He wants to come apart her. He wants to do it because she's caused them plenty of problems. But he also wants to take heed her beg again. He breathes in the scent of her expensive perfume. In and out. In and out. Nice and slow. Building up. Feeling the imperativeness coiling within her.

" God, Sam... " she whines meekly. " Please... "

He smirks. " delight what ? " he prods. It's deadening now. He can palpate the sheen of sweat on his back. He laps up a few midget bead from her forehead. He finds her night eyes with his. " Please what, Bela ? "

She grips his forearms. " Please, Sam, " she husks. " More... "

" Mmm, " he teases, picking up the pace just slightly. " to a greater extent of this ? " he asks, things leisurely and nonchalant. He watches her centre widen and close, sees the way she nibbles at her lower lip.

He can see she's getting close and he wants to watch her splinter. She moans when his oral cavity collides with her neck. He sucks at her pulse point, leaving what he's knows will be a mark. He wants her to think this moment later, long after she's left his bed.

" Look at me, Bela, " he instructs. " Open. Your. Eyes. "

And she does. For a minute. Gasping in pleasure, he watches as they fall closed with the deep, approximate jabbing he gives her. He goes back to the slow, tender pace and waits for them to fly open.

When they do, they're night. So dark. Her schoolchild are dilated. The conflict it takes for her to hold on them on his look makes him drunk with power. He knows he's got her. He can feel her body throbbing around his length.

Suddenly, he's beneath her. She's caught him off guard duty and rides him. He grabs for her waist wanting to wrest control from her, but she takes his carpus and force out them into the pillow over his head.

He grins. He doesn't have to let her do this. He's far stronger than she is. But the feel of her breasts, full-of-the-moon and heavy, as they brush against the paries of his bureau is enticing. It excites him. He decides to let her have her way. For now.

Bela braces herself against Sam's articulatio humeri. She pushes herself back into him, feeling her toes curl as her pilus tumbles over her articulatio humeri in a silklike pall. " Do you like this, Sam ? " she taunts. " Do you like a serious, slow down nerd ? "

He tangles his finger in the silk-spun strands that brush his cheek, pushing it back. He surges up, pulling her down onto his thrust. " Mmm, " he hums against her sass. " I asked you first. "

Sitting up, he strums his mitt down her spine. He guides her hips to his, creating a yummy friction that makes her frisson. He wraps his bridge player in her hair, tugging her caput back to expose her throat. " But I think I know what you like, " he tells her. thick and toilsome, he drives into her.

She gasps and moans, writhing in his lap. She looks at him through the haze of her orgasm, licking her lips as she touches his cheek. His name escapes her parted lip as she throws her pass back, " Sam... "

He relishes in every gasp and moan, each bantam movement of her hips as she tries to extend her highschool. He startles her by lifting her away and setting her beside him.

Bela has hardly caught her breath when Sam is behind her. Her body, hot and slick, declaration around his. She cries out as he wraps his arm around her waist. His fingers draw set and it's almost too much. The joy he gives her is so intense she can hardly emit. " Oh, God... "

He sets a quick rate. Sliding against her - into her - with renewed passion and vigor. He admires the curvature of her hip and the way it flares to her fundament. He pushes her physical structure to it's limitation, tumbling her again and again into ecstasy.

She moans, whimpering as she shakes beneath him. " Sam, " she pants. " I can't... " Struggling, she casts a glance over her shoulder. " Too much... "

Sam pulls away, but only enough to roll Bela onto her spine. He kisses her, searching her lips and mouth with his tongue. He waits for her. waiting for her to come back down. Waits for her to enwrap her legs around him, urging him on.

Because she does. She curls her arm around his waist, daring him to finish what he started. She cedes mastery, looking into his oculus. " Oh... Sam... "

Sam's body throbs from the strain of holding back. He aches to let go, to tumble into the abyss. The silken way Bela wraps around him - the feel of her trunk pulling him in - is nearly his undoing. She purrs, moaning against his mouth as he adopts a relentless speed. Once, twice, three time and he feels like he's flying. " Bela... "

With a wreck, Sam shock awake and finds himself on the floor next to the bed. His arms are wrapped around a pillow. He gulps. It felt so real. Right down to the...

" clotheshorse, " doyen's part comes from over his shoulder. Looking up, Sam sees his older brother's furrowed brow. " You were making some sober yummy noises. "

Sam scowl and growl, " Dean... "

" Bela ? Seriously ? " Dean asks wrinkling his nose, his eyes going wide. " We really need to get you laid... "