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I always tell people, give it a go, you only live once, so why not live it to the fullest? Try new things no matter how weird it seems now....... If you try it, you might like it lol Bondage..........
His hips were held tight by the underwear- they were small and close, and the lace that they were composed of cut into his ass. Every time he shifted his hips, he felt them move slightly. The cut of them ended midway across his ass, and the flowered edge of it dug into him where he lay. He felt somewhat...ridiculous, like this. Vulnerable.
He told Dean he trusted him, though, and Dean had smiled at the fallen angel like the cat that had eaten the canary. He had opened the duffel bag slowly like a predator, and he had pulled out his tools with a breath of wickedness.
It felt so good when they were wicked.
Dean had pulled out the ribbons after helping slide Castiel into the underwear.
They were long and wide and made of navy blue silk, the same shade as the- well, to be honest they were panties. The ribbons dug into his wrists and his ankles where he had been tied safely, tightly, to the bedpost. Castiel could only assume he was tied to the bedposts; the first ribbon had gone around his eyes.
And then, after so carefully and so wickedly tying him up and shutting his eyes, Dean murmured close against his ear, "I won't be long, okay Honeybee?"
It felt like it had been an eternity since that moment.
Castiel had lived through so very much. He had watched stars grow and expand and die. He had observed the seductive draw of gravity creating galaxies. He had seen the Earth form. He had watched the hundreds of millions of years of transformation that had led to man. And now he waited, breathless, helpless, for Dean to return, and these moments seemed longer and more painful than any other he had ever held.
His skin prickled into the cool, slightly damp air, a trail of goosebumps leaving his skin sensitive. Fall had come, and it seemed Dean had neglected to fight off the Oregonian chill by turning the heat off.
So exposed. So vulnerable.
He jumped when he felt the distant, soft, itching caress of breath against his neck.
"Dean?" He called out, helpless, confused.
"Shh, baby, shh," Dean replied, and his voice was like a knife in the air. So quiet. So cool.
Castiel fell quiet. He could barely hear Dean, his movement only indicated by the impossible touch of his breath against his skin.
Castiel felt like his body was too tight for him for the first time since he had fallen.
Dean's breath linger briefly over his collarbone before Dean leaned in closer and left an impossibly soft kiss, like a feather being traced over his muscles.
He felt a new wave of goosebumps crawl over his skin.
Dean continued his kisses, over the collarbone and up the tense tendons in his neck and over his chin and to his mouth. Castiel bit into the kiss, and it seemed that in every place he fought for more touch, for more warmth, Dean insisted on softness. On delicacy. Dean was always so gentle with him, so careful and so reverent.
Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth, begging for touch. Dean pulled away.
His fingers seemed to hover over Castiel in that place that was tantalizingly close and painfully far away. His calloused fingertip dragged slowly over every part of Cas, moving over his chest and his pert nipples, dipping into every valley of muscle, going down down down until the finger flirted over the top of the panties.
"So beautiful," Dean murmured, barely audible. "So good to me." Once more, his breath felt close against Castiel's skin and then there was the tiniest, gentlest bite Castiel could ever imagine.
And then the bite moved.
And in the most wicked way, Dean eased the underwear down Castiel's body.
Every tiny nip and bite and kiss and suckle lit Castiel on fire, and he bucked and squirmed on the bed to the best of his ability.
"Baby, please," Dean whispered, "Be still for me."
With a whimper, Castiel stilled, but it was so hard to be good when Dean was so bad.
Castiel felt when the underwear came completely free, felt the way they were dragged over his thighs as far as they could go, and then he felt Dean on his inner thigh.
And then he felt Dean easing into the space between his legs, felt the material of his shirt and his jeans (he was still clothed? oh lord, he was still clothed? how will he...why is he...). Dean's warm hands were suddenly guiding Castiel's hips up as far as he could manage, leaving his ass exposed to the air. Dean's kisses returned, still so soft and so clean, and god, it hurt, hurt being teased like this.
Dean gave Castiel's torso more support, and he eased close enough Castiel could feel his breath against his ass.
Then the kisses lost any kind of politeness, any kind of propriety, any kind of neatness, and Dean licked.
Castiel howled into the cold room and strained against the ribbons and he cried, bright, the only name that could fill his mouth- Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean.
"Never enough," he moaned, painfully aware of how loud he was in the room, painfully aware of the filthy, wet sound of lapping and licking around his hole but never quite into his body. "More, more, more, please, more."
The licking disappeared for a moment, replaced by a laughing huff of warm breath against his tight, aching, wanting skin. "That's my baby," Dean whispered. "Always so hungry."
"Please," Castiel moaned in response. "Want you. Always you, want you to touch me, want you to have me, want you in me, fuck me, Dean, please, fuck me." He knew in the sliver of his brain that was not consumed with need that what he was saying was wrong, was taboo, but he didn't care. Oh god, he didn't care.
It was like the moment before the switch was flipped and the light turned on- so fast it was nearly instantaneous. His tongue flickered into Castiel and Castiel cried, screamed, insane with ecstasy.
