#top!dean

Pure bliss emanated from him, legs widely open with Dean buried deep inside.

“Can’t you go deeper?” he asked after the shivers Dean had caused abated. He grinned, paws against Dean’s hip, teeth scraping against his brother’s neck. 

“Careful, Sammy. What are you gonna say if I knock you up?” 

«The best girl»

The door burst open from a rough shove, and the smell of blood, steel, and something else—something primal, wild that stole Sam’s breath—flooded the hallway. Dean. His demon. His husband. He didn’t lift his head, frozen on his knees by the threshold, hands behind his back, head bowed—the posture of an obedient wife he’d perfected over the past few months.

Dean’s boots thudded heavily on the floorboards as he approached. Sam felt each step as a vibration in his knees, his spine, in that place between his legs that had already begun to ache in anticipation. Dean’s fingers gripped his hair, yanking his head back sharply. Black eyes glinted in the dim light, something hungry and inhuman swimming in them.

“Been waiting for me, Sammy?”

His voice was low, rough—after a hunt, Dean always became coarser, more impatient. Sam nodded, licking his dry lips. His own erection was already pulsing inside his tight underwear—the very same lace ones Dean had picked out for him last week.

“Always,” Sam breathed, and there was so much submission in that word that Dean smirked with satisfaction.

He didn’t wait. Unzipped his fly with one hand while keeping his grip on Sam’s hair with the other. His cock slipped out—hard, hot, with a glistening drop of pre-cum on the head. Sam reached for it, opening his mouth, but Dean didn’t allow it—stopped an inch from his lips, teasing.

“First, say it. Say how bad you want my cock in your dirty little mouth.”

Sam moaned, feeling saliva pool under his tongue. His hole clenched in anticipation, releasing another drop of slick.

“I want it. I want it so bad, Dean. Please, let me suck you. Let me swallow your cum like a good wife.”

That was enough. Dean thrust in, filling Sam’s mouth to the throat in one motion. Sam didn’t gag—he’d learned. He relaxed his muscles, letting the cock go deeper, working his tongue along the vein underneath. His lips sealed tight around the base, and he began moving his head—slowly, rhythmically, sucking.

“Fuck, Sammy…” Dean tipped his head back, his fingers tightening in Sam’s hair. “Your mouth… better than any cunt.”

Sam moaned in response, sending vibrations along the shaft. He loved it when Dean said things like that. Loved feeling the cock pulse on his tongue, the muscles of Dean’s stomach tensing with every movement he made. He sped up, swallowing deeper, his nose brushing Dean’s pubic bone, and Dean cursed through his teeth.

“Enough. I want to come in your ass.”

Dean pulled his cock out of Sam’s mouth with a wet sound, yanked him up by the hair, spun him around, and shoved him onto all fours. His palm smacked hard against Sam’s ass, making him cry out.

“Pull down the underwear. I want to see how wet you are.”

Sam obeyed, shoving the lace down below his knees. His skin gleamed in the dim light—slick and his own moisture running down the inside of his thighs. Dean ran his fingers over Sam’s hole, collecting the fluid, then shoved them into Sam’s mouth.

“Taste yourself. How sweet you are, wife.”

Sam obediently licked the fingers, tasting the salty tang. Dean grunted with satisfaction, pulled his hand away, and pressed the head of his cock against the pulsing entrance.

“Look at me, Sammy. I want to see your eyes when I take what’s mine.”

Sam turned his head, meeting the black, bottomless gaze. Dean pushed in—slowly, deliberately, entering inch by inch. The walls clenched, trying to adjust, but Sam relaxed, letting him in. Pain mixed with pleasure, turning into heat low in his belly.

“All the way. Every inch,” Dean exhaled as his hips pressed against Sam’s ass. “So tight. Perfect. Mine.”

He began to move—smoothly at first, rocking, driving deep. Sam moaned with every thrust, feeling Dean’s cock scrape against something inside, making his legs tremble. Dean spanked his ass in rhythm, leaving red prints, gripping his thighs hard enough to bruise.

“Say whose you are. Say it,” Dean growled, speeding up.

“Yours,” Sam breathed, clenching around the cock. “Your wife. Your hole. All yours.”

Dean snarled, thrusting harder, almost brutally. His fingers dug into Sam’s hips, holding him in place. The orgasm hit suddenly—Sam came untouched, just from the pounding, spilling onto the floor beneath him. Dean followed a second later, pressing in to the hilt, flooding deep inside with a hot gush.

He froze, breathing hard, then slowly pulled out, watching the cum drip from the red, swollen hole. Sam collapsed to the floor, exhausted but happy.

Dean crouched beside him, running his fingers over his damp cheek.

“Good wife,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “The best.”