Bruce Wayne didn't build his lair overnight either.

[chosenfreedom]

Dean was still in the luxurious room. It was neater this time. Relatively. Less food particles and drink scattered around, and more blueprints and dimensions on scrawled paper. His shirt was tucked in, and he was wearing a belt around his jeans as he walked around pacing.

He was currently on the phone, speaking with someone on the other line, "Yeah? Listen I got some plans here that I need some guys to get started on pronto. Yeah. I'll have the plans faxed over to you, but this has got to be made top priority. Also what've you got lying around the armory? Uh-huh. What about ammo? All right. Listen, bring some of that up here, plus 50 pounds of rock salt. Yeah you heard me. Rock salt. Like the crap you put down in the winter."

More pacing as he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I told you what I need, what's the problem? Or should I tell your boss about what a hard time you're giving me? Yeah I didn't think so either. All right, thanks." He cut the connection, and set the phone down with a sigh.

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[seductress]

His yielding was another intimacy, another surrender, and she drank it in like sweet water, her Hunger touching lightly on dark thoughts, on deeply buried memories, each of them holding clues to desires. The demon sang its knowledge back to her. So we aren't the only ones who have been here. Broken before, taught to know pain, to love inflicting it. Beneath it all the need for order, for approval. To know his place in the order of the world and to rest at the end of a long weary road.

And the Hunger whispered back into the deepest recesses of Dean's mind, singing to the desires that were beyond mere lust. Ours now. No more than you're willing to give. Forgiven. Understood. Accepted. Content.

Lara gasped in pleasure, though whether it was at Dean's lips or at his mind's yielding it was hard to tell. Her hands slid up his back, pushing up his shirt as her nails dug deep into his skin. She felt him rock against her, seeking rhythm and friction, and she clung to him, legs wrapping around his waist, silk and lace sliding against denim.

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Dean paused in amidst his kisses, and his green eyes widened with surprise at the thoughts swirling in his mind. He didn't deserve forgiveness and acceptance. Never had. Had to be wrong. If she had seen what he was capable of, he was to be hated, and feared. He was a hunter, a killer. All he was capable of, just a weapon and a tool to be used and discarded.

He glanced back at to stare briefly at Lara as he made eye contact, and just held her close. Somehow he knew, what was found by her, and some of the burdens he had were slipping from his shoulders. She wasn't demanding, imploring him to greater duties and destiny. He still wanted to save people, but it could be by his rules again. The crimes he had committed in hell, the lives taken, forgiven?

His expression then softened with trust and caring before his mouth started to move along her neck and down to her breasts. His gestures were still earnest but tender also now, almost worshipful in the attention he laved upon her flesh. His hips moved against her again, but it was tempered, focusing less on his lust, and more on her wants.

Yours. His mind whispered back, and his voice echoed the affirmation against her skin.

[seductress]

Centuries of experience meant Lara knew her way around pleasure, around the desires and thoughts of a human mind. She knew how to phrase a single word to put in motion the fall of a city, how a caress could bring down an empire. But even centuries of experience didn't prepare her for the buck's reaction to the Hunger's touch.

Again and again he yielded, bending farther and faster than the others. And suddenly she could feel him surrender, the trust and devotion that came with a broken will hers without feeling him ever break. Her eyes were bright, metallic silver when they met his, and a delighted laugh bubbled from her dark pink lips as she arched into his touch.

Ours. The last link in the chain, in the lead, and she didn't even have to place the collar. Dean had slipped it on of his own volition and handed her the key. Another liquid laugh left her lips, falling like warm honey as she slid a hand between their bodies, skilled fingers undoing the belt. He was gentle now, almost worshipful, and it was only right that he got his reward.

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Probably because another, a demon did most of the hard work for her. Dean's spirit had been shattering bit by bit over the years, more and more being asked of him, and more and more taken away. Somewhere he would often find the strength to fight back, but only when he felt compelled to.
Any other inclinations to do so here had fallen silent and still.

He'll save the fighting for the Hunts to come.

His hips moved encouragingly while his hands came up to caress where he was still kissing, his wet tongue sliding damp stripes across her skin. He wanted release but he still wanted to give her pleasure first. Many women would say how caring he would act in his lovemaking, much as he loved the sex. He had always been a tender, caring lover.

[seductress]

Now that she had everything she needed from Dean, there was a subtle shift in the way Lara toyed with him. It was in the Hunger's nature to take and there was no change in that. She was still demanding with every kiss, still velvet over blodes with every touch, but there was a methodical care to it now, a leisurely playfulness that seemed to make everything last.

She gasped and shuddered at his touch, every motion wordless encouragement. At the same time, Dean's belt and zipper parted beneath her hand and she reached to stroke him with a cool, calm hand. Supernatural strength and dexterity aside, physics were physics and there was no real way to continue without untangling her legs from around Dean's waist or finding another stable surface. Her voice was breathless as she brought her lips to trace the outer shell of Dean's ear, her whisper managing somehow to sound both wanting and commanding, "Let's move to the counter, pet."

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Dean moaned, and his fingers clenched before returning to caressing her breasts, and her stomach. Paying careful attention to sensitive areas to draw more gasps from her.

He nodded, his voice husky in its reply, "Yes." He moved his hands away to bring them around her back to help hold her close against so they could move.

[seductress]

He was careful, clutching her to him as he moved, which surprised her in the same way his surrender had. In some ways, she had read him perfectly and in others he had surprised her. Which made things so much more interesting now that she could explore slowly without the need to break and collar.

It didn't take too many steps, and once Lara was able to rest her weight on the counter, her hands were freed to touch, to rake her nails along Dean's torso and tangle in his shirt. Her legs remained loosely wrapped around him as she trailed a line of heated kisses from his ear to his jaw. An unseen feral smile played on her lips as her hand ripped at his shirt with casual strength, the fabric parting with a soft sigh that echoed hers.

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Dean didn't let people in easily. He cared about strangers, and will protect them. But trusting took time. He never would accepted her so much without the manipulation, but something in how she had coaxed him, the cajoling. Well he found himself caring about her.

His eyebrows went up at the shirt tearing, but then smiled as he leaned in to kiss low on her body. His hips began to move against her again, and the muscles in his torso clenched and shifted under her nimble fingers.

[seductress]

Laughter slid into gasps of approval and pleasure at the touch of Dean's lips on her body. As his hips moved against her, Lara guided his hands to her hips, pulling away the last of the silk and lace, before she ran her hands along his hips pulling the last of the denim away before her legs wrapped tight around his waist, drawing him close.

The succubus, body and Hunger, moved as one, spoke as one in words and action, a single word of reward and command against her prey's mind and body. "Yes."

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Dean obeyed of course, now subject to her whims and wants. Lust coursing throughout him, though tempered with other emotions as he sank into her. Contentment, trust, caring. Not love but he was approaching it in his feelings, his actions as he moved against her with a groan. He leaned his head down to pepper her skin with more kisses, and his hand came down between them to draw more gasps of pleasure from her.

[seductress]

Lust was her kind's bread and butter and the demonic Hunger sipped at it like fine wine. Devotion and care it accepted as means of control, but love, love was dangerous. Love was anathema, and the perfectly circular scar on the palm of Lara's left hand was a constant reminder of that fact. But for all its patience and kindness, true love had to be reciprocated to burn.

And Lara Raith was nothing if not self-seeking and one who delighted in lies.

So she toyed with Dean even as her breath quickened at his touch, accepting the care and trust he offered and reciprocating with little more than calculating amusement and the empty lies of the succubus Hunger. She moved with him, all warm skin and eager receptive flesh, and her hands clutched at Dean's shoulder and back as pleasure washed over her like a wave.

Just for effect, she even cried out his name.

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Her hands came up near the burned handprint, and a jolt ran through him like he was shocked. But he forgot it a moment later, too much hers now in mind and body. A warning, a remembrance from the angel who saved him, it mattered little now. Nothing else matters, just like the Metallica song.

Only her. Only her.

He came a moment later, shouting her name in reciprocation, and shuddering. He slowly pulled out, and stayed close, panting. Damn, that wore him out more than he would have thought. He had to get back in a routine again if he was going to hunt. Keep in good shape, since he had let himself go over the past six months or so.

[seductress]

Lara's own breathing was languid, relaxed, and her hand slid along Dean's neck and into his short cropped hair, an idle affectionate gesture. Her voice was pleased and gilded with laughter. "I'd offer you another drink, love, but I think it might go to your head."

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Dean's head gently lolled toward her hand as he grinned back.

"Eh maybe, usually can hold my liquor." He should probably go sit down, but he didn't want to move away from her. His body slightly listed a little, but he stubbornly remained upright.

"Takes more than that to wipe me out."

[seductress]

That self-assured bravado only served to reinforce the idea of Dean as some overeager pup, even as he insisted on remaining on his feet as he swayed. A mote of silver glittered in her eyes at his words, as if the demonic Hunger would like nothing more than to take up that challenge.

But there would be time for that. For now there were more useful things to set the pup on. "As tempting as that is, I think you'd rather be awake tomorrow to tour the set."

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

Dean blinked briefly as he listed again, and finally sighed.

"Yeah I could use a few hours of shut eye. And hell yeah, can't wait," he smiled at her again.

He then stepped back to go straighten up the paperwork. At least he hadn't been getting nightmares when he sleeps, or really much of dreams. Just a few here and there, mostly about Lara. A few about...before. With Sam and the Impala, and open road. But the ache he'd been feeling about missing it was almost non-existent. He was just content as he slowly walked to his bed.

[seductress]

Lara smiled back indulgently, arsenic grey eyes watching, and didn't slide off the counter until Dean had made it to the bed. "Then I won't stay and keep you up," she purred, picking up her coat and heading for the door.

"Sweet dreams, pet."

[chosenfreedom.livejournal.com]

"Night, Lara," He mumbled and yawned as he flopped into bed. He didn't bother with the blankets, just sleeping on top of the covers. He settled with a hand by his pillow where he still slept with a knife hidden underneath. Force of habit for the hunter that not even being here could break him of.