Page 62 of All Your Pain

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Page 62 of All Your Pain

I grab hold of her outer thighs as I bury my mouth against her entrance and swallow everything she gives me. Her body twitches in time to the slashes of the killer's blade and I murmur sweet words of praise as I clean her up.

“You taste amazing, little kitten. Your pussy’s so fucking good to me, giving me all of this, not going to waste a single drop, gonna lick it all up.”

She’s a whimpering mess by the time I’ve licked her clean. I brace myself above her and tell her to open her mouth. Her eyes finally drag away from the screen to meet mine and she looks so well fucked. “Taste yourself, baby.” She closes her lips around my fingers and sucks them as I work them in and out of her mouth.

I pull them out and drag them down her chin before kissing her.

“I fucking love you, Willow.”

I lie down next to her, bringing her back against my chest so we can finish the movie curled up together. She buries her face into my arm as she comes down from her endorphin high and she ends up falling asleep before we even reach the credits.

24

WILLOW

Afew days later I’m starting to feel more like myself but something is still missing. Dean and I haven’t had actual sex sincethatnight. It’s like he’s waiting for me to make the first move but I’m scared to. I need him so badly. My body’s constantly on edge, my nerves taut and ready to snap at any moment but what if he takes it too far again?

When Dean comes into the bedroom he looks angry and my heart sinks.

Did I do something wrong?

He goes to the closet without saying a word and starts packing a bag.

Panic floods my body and I get dizzy when I stand up.

“Dean? What’s going on?” I ask him as I put my hand on his back. His tension fades slightly.

“I’ve got to go on a job. I’ve been putting it off but we can’t wait any longer. If we miss today then that might be our last chance to get it done.” Dean turns to me and takes a breath before fixing his face into his usual carefree smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You’ve got everything you need here.”

“How long will you be gone exactly? You said,we can’t wait any longer? Who’s we?” My mind's racing with questions and I can’t get them out quick enough.

“Take a breath. I’m going with Bones and I should be back tomorrow at the latest. You don’t need to worry, baby. Like I said, you've got everything you need.”

Not everything,I think to myself as he keeps packing his bag.Not you.

“Why are you going?” I ask quietly.

“The pay’s good enough that I won’t need to take another job for a while. You’ll have me all to yourself then.” He winks.

“Do you have to leave right now?”

“I have a little bit of time,” he smiles softly at me. “Is there something you need?”

I chew on my bottom lip unsure how to ask him for exactly what I need and also embarrassed to even need it in the first place.

“I want you to make me feel,” I manage to say. His eyes widen for a flash before they darken and his tongue wets the scar on his lip.

“Feel what exactly?” He steps towards me and I stumble back until I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. He tilts my chin up with his fingers. My heart’s racing and the shirt I’m wearing suddenly feels too tight like I need him to tear it off me.

“Everything,” I whisper. “I want you to give me everything. Hurt me and…love me.”

With no warning, Dean’s grabbing my waist and throwing me higher onto the bed.

I scramble to get my shirt off and he helps tug it over my head. He gets his cock out and starts pumping it as I try to pull his shirt off. I’m staring at the angry head bobbing in front of me, needing it inside me already as he leans back to take his shirt off himself. I lean forward and lick the bead of precome off the tip. The noisethat comes out of Dean’s throat is the hottest, most feral sound I’ve ever heard.

“What the fuck?” I gasp as I see his torso. A fresh, red scar covers his body, in the same place as he marked me with his name, mine is now cut into him. It looks jagged and inflamed, like he did it in anger.

“When did you do that?” I ask, sitting up I run my fingers over the lines, they’re healing but still look red and sore. My own scars flare in pain at the memory of their creation.




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