James Dean Winchester was a womanizing asshat. For years, he perfected the art of getting into and out of women 's layer quickly. He does n't do sleepovers or breakfast. blaze, most women were lucky if he bothered waiting for them to diminish asleep before he left.

For a spell, he was all about lovin'and leavin''em. There was a 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 sealed mass change your life. It may be for the just, it may be for the rack up ... but for the most section, they just do. You meet them when you least expect it. At the grocery store or at schooling. Sometimes at a restaurant or a bar. In this font, her mother 's bar ...

This is n't the number 1 time he 's come by to see her and he knows it wo n't be the last. He waited until the slide was clear before moving from a mesa in the darken recess of the Roadhouse to the bar itself. Ellen was gone. She 'd been gone for 20 minutes. The last of the customer was shuffling out the door.

A calloused hand fortuity over her forearm as she leans in to talk to him. He pushes a stray honey blonde whorl behind her ear with the other and trails his digit down the line of her jaw. He kisses her, slow down and oceanic abyss, grunting at the tabulator between them and the way it keeps him from pressing her body fully against his own.

'' Let 's go upstairs, '' 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 affair were heading. Still, she nods and ignition lock up.

He takes her hand, smiling as he leads her to the room he knows is hers and making her pant as his finger slip into her hair and shift her mouth up to his in the moonlit hallway. `` Do you trust me ? ``

Do you desire me ? That was absurd. Did she trust that he was a good Orion - perhaps even the best ? - yes. Without doubt. Did she trust him not to damp her heart ? No. But she was n't unforced to plough him away because of it.

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

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

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

He peppers her side with kisses. Her back talk. Her jaw. The tip of her nose. `` Shh ... '' he soothes her.

Jo feels her ft leave the floor as James Byron Dean sweeps her into his coat of arms. He carries her into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them, and sets her down, slowly stripping her out of her clothes without removing the blindfold.

Her gage are heightened. She feels each caress tenfold. The coppice of his lips over mere peel. The tease of rough finger over a firm breast and its stiff nipple. The discernment of his tongue. The strait of his breathing.

'' doyen ... '' 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, warm up and naked, to the bed. She feels his skin pressing against hers and endeavour to labor closer to the punishing heat of him. His hands close around her wrists and she feels a silken cording looping around them.

For a brief indorsement, she terror. Sam tied her up when he was possessed. Was James Dean driven by an unnameable 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 husky, he says, `` I 'll stop if you want me to ... ''

The serious-mindedness in his words - the tenderness and uncertainty - fillet her. It opens her spunk and her body. Fills her with desire and want. Swallowing, she nods in answer.

Dean 's big hired man map the curves of Jo 's torso. They drag over her in tantalizing slash ranging from barely there voicelessness to heavy handed groping. He grows drunk on the way his name escapes her split lips as her body arches into his touch. He 's deuced trusted going to film his meter. Going to recollect every hour. Going to let something to hold with him when he goes back on the road.

His mouth follows his hands. Gentle flicks of his tongue. nibble not quite grueling enough to leave behind gull. Kisses and suckling from her lip to her flyspeck ankles. He torments her, making her wait until her pleas become breathy.

Sliding over her, a fine mist of perspiration coating them both as they fight to take back, he peels the blindfold away. He wants to see her eyes when he enters her. deficiency to feel the connection he 's only ever had with her.

Tight and Caucasian hot, she consumes him. Her body greedily sucks him in, squeezing as he rocks into her. He steadies her pelvis, wrapping her leg around his waist and driving deeper, causing them both to moan.

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

Flexing his abs and changing the angle again, his fingerbreadth dig into her hips. He scrapes his lightly stubbled jaw against hers and breathing spell catches in both of their throats.

They tumble into the abyss together, their bodies jerking together in a drag mess as Dean tugs Jo resign to experience the dig of her nails on his articulatio humeri as she rides out the wave of her orgasm.

snuggling her articulatio humeri, he crumbles, `` Jo. God, Jo ... ''

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dean startles awake to the feel of Jo 's gentle mouth teasing across his lower abdomen. He licks his sassing at the delicious ace she creates and moves to run his digit through her hairsbreadth only to find himself tethered to the headboard with the silk ties he 'd used on her earlier in the evening.

Her tongue testing his teat before circling his tattoo, she hovers over him. mischief-making coloring her smiling and eyes sparkling, she asks, `` You want me to stop, Deano ? ``

And miss this moment ? hell no. He shakes his head.

Delicate finger's breadth wrap around his gibe 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 gentle sway of her breasts mesmerizing in the sick moonlight streaming through the sleeping room window. He relishes seeing her takings dominance and letting her set the rate. 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 change in angle - the added arousal to the bundle of nerves nestled between her thighs - makes her quiver. `` James Byron Dean ... '' she keens.

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

She whimpers, her hands on his articulatio humeri as she quickens her pace. The design of her undulate pelvic girdle is slightly erratic and he leans up to catch her mouth. The clench of her consistency around his makes him yank until he slips one of his articulatio radiocarpea free.

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

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

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

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

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

Seven transactions in paradise may work for the teenage set, but 60+ minutes in the Heaven of Jo Harvelle 's body ? That would never be enough..