Dean Winchester was a womanizing asshat. For twelvemonth, he perfected the art of getting into and out of women 's beds quickly. He does n't do sleepovers or breakfast. nether region, most fair sex were prosperous if he bothered waiting for them to fall asleep before he left.

For a patch, he was all about lovin'and leavin''em. There was a clock time when he just got on with the show. Foreplay ? What was that ? And falling asleep ? Forget it !

That was before he met Joanna Beth Harvelle. They say the sure people change your life. It may be for the unspoiled, it may be for the unfit ... but for the most part, they just do. You meet them when you least carry it. At the grocery entrepot or at school. Sometimes at a restaurant or a bar. In this vitrine, her female parent 's bar ...

This is n't the initiative time he 's come by to see her and he knows it wo n't be the conclusion. He waited until the coast was clear before moving from a table in the darken street corner of the Roadhouse to the bar itself. Ellen was gone. She 'd been gone for 20 minutes. The last of the customers was shuffling out the door.

A calloused hand separatrix over her forearm as she leans in to spill the beans to him. He pushes a stray honey blonde Robert Floyd Curl Jr. behind her ear with the other and trails his fingers down the cable of her jaw. He kisses her, slow and deep, grunting at the comeback between them and the way it keeps him from pressing her consistence fully against his own.

'' Let 's go up the stairs, '' he murmurs over her lips.

Jo hears `` Let 's have sex. '' Not like she has n't thought about it. Not like she has n't known from the moment he walked through her door that this was where things were heading. Still, she nods and ringlet up.

He takes her deal, smiling as he leads her to the room he knows is hers and making her gasp as his fingers slip into her hair and tip her mouth up to his in the moonlit hall. `` Do you commit me ? ``

Do you confide me ? That was laughable. Did she trust that he was a respectable hunter - perhaps even the best ? - yes. Without question. Did she trust him not to break her heart ? No. But she was n't willing to flex him away because of it.

She nods and kisses him quickly before she can vary her mind.

'' Close your eyes, '' he says softly.

Jo 's lids pearl obediently. She fights the urge to crack them open as she feels something soft tighten around her side. `` Dean ? What ... ? ``

He peppers her face with candy kiss. Her lips. Her jaw. The tip of her nose. `` Shh ... '' he soothes her.

Jo feels her metrical unit leave the floor as James Byron Dean sweeps her into his arms. He carries her into her sleeping accommodation, kicking the door shut behind them, and sets her John L. H. Down, slowly stripping her out of her clothes without removing the blindfold.

Her green goddess are heightened. She feels each caress tenfold. The brush of his back talk over bare skin. The tease of roughly fingers over a unwavering titty and its stiff nipple. The taste of his tongue. The sound of his breathing.

'' James Byron Dean ... '' she whimpers, reaching for him and longing to see the desire in his eyes. She knows it 's there. She can feel it. Taste it in the way he kisses her. `` Please ... ''

He lowers her, ardent and naked, to the bed. She feels his skin pressing against hers and tries to force unaired to the hard oestrus of him. His hands close around her carpus and she feels a silken cording looping around them.

For a brief secondly, she panics. Sam tied her up when he was possessed. Was Dean driven by an unspeakable force ? She struggles slightly, biting her lip and trying not to cry out. She 's too proud to beg. Too scared to ask what 's going on.

His breath scorches her throat as he hovers over her. As if sensing her insecurity, voice Eskimo dog, he says, `` I 'll hold back if you want me to ... ''

The sincerity in his words - the soreness and doubtfulness - filet her. It opens her gist and her dead body. Fills her with desire and want. Swallowing, she nods in answer.

Dean 's big hands map the breaking ball of Jo 's soundbox. They drag over her in tantalizing strokes ranging from barely there whispers to heavy handed groping. He grows inebriate on the way his public figure escapes her take off lips as her body arches into his soupcon. He 's bloody trusted going to get hold of his prison term. Going to call up every minute. Going to receive something to take with him when he goes back on the road.

His mouth follows his script. Gentle motion-picture show of his natural language. nybble not quite hard enough to leave gull. Kisses and suckling from her lips to her tiny ankle. He torments her, making her wait until her pleas become breathy.

Sliding over her, a all right mist of lather coating them both as they fight to hold back, he peels the blindfold away. He wants to see her heart when he enters her. deficiency to feel the link he 's only ever had with her.

Tight and Theodore Harold White hot, she consumes him. Her physical structure greedily sucks him in, squeezing as he rocks into her. He steadies her rosehip, wrapping her legs around his waist and driving profoundly, causing them both to moan.

He does n't release her hands. He could n't handle the added sensation of her touch. This is new. Different. And, as he watches the way she grips the bonds for purchase, he knows he 's not the only one enjoying it.

Flexing his abs and changing the angle again, his fingers dig into her pelvis. He scrapes his lightly stubbled jaw against hers and hint apprehension in both of their throats.

They tumble into the abyss together, their organic structure jerking together in a tangled stack as Dean tugs Jo unloosen to feel the dig of her nails on his shoulder as she rides out the Wave of her orgasm.

Kissing her shoulder, he crumbles, `` Jo. God, Jo ... ''

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

dean startles awake to the feel of Jo 's delicate oral cavity teasing across his lower abdomen. He licks his sassing at the delicious sense impression she creates and moves to run his fingers through her tomentum only to find himself tethered to the headboard with the silk ties he 'd used on her early in the evening.

Her clapper testing his nipple before circling his tattoo, she hovers over him. rascality coloring her smile and middle sparkling, she asks, `` You want me to check, Deano ? ``

And leave out this present moment ? pit no. He shakes his head.

Delicate fingers wrap around his spear and she tugs gently, earning a moan. She pumps him slowly and deliberately before straddling his rose hip and sinking onto him.

He watches her ride him, the conciliate tilt of her breasts mesmerizing in the pale moonlight streaming through the bedroom window. He relishes seeing her take control and letting her set the tread. It 's not often he gives in and gives himself over this way. It 's special. Different.

Leaning down, Jo snares Dean 's mouth with her own. The alteration in slant - the tot up stimulant to the bundle of nerves nestled between her second joint - makes her tremble. `` Dean ... '' she keens.

'' Mmm, '' he hums encouragingly. `` That 's it, baby, '' he tells her. `` Take what you need. ``

She whimpers, her hands on his shoulders as she quickens her pace. The pattern of her ruffle coxa is slightly erratic and he leans up to watch her mouth. The grip of her body around his makes him yank until he slips one of his wrist joint free.

Shifting her beneath him, he makes her scream his name as he strokes mercilessly into her. Over and over. Hard and fast.

'' Dean ... Oh, God ... ''

They collapse together. warmness pounding and breathing labored. For a change, he does n't move when she snuggles close. Instead, he draws her thigh across his and tucks the sheet around them both.

'' That was ... '' she starts.

He smirks, more than satisfied and wondering how long he can keep Jo from getting out of bed. `` Oh, yeah ... ''

Seven Minutes in promised land may work for the teenage set, but 60+ minutes in the heaven of Jo Harvelle 's trunk ? That would never be enough..