“I don’t care whether it will hurt. I just want it.”
rough sex | accepting
she sits on the edge of the bed, staring up at him with soft bourbon eyes. there’s no way to ignore the knot that forms in her throat, or how her stomach flips at his words. how long had it been since he had told her no? because it’s dirty and wrong and they shouldn’t… but they did.
the tip of her tongue traces along her lips. this isn’t like him. this isn’t how she remembers; he’s got her heart racing and a flush building prominently in her cheeks. leave it to sam fucking winchester to make a demon blush.
if he speaks again, she doesn’t hear it. the only sound is the echo of her heart pounding in her chest. she’s soft, gentle, as she rises to close the distance between them. he’s bled her before, but this is different. she doesn’t want to feel the blade kiss her flesh; she wants his hands tearing at her. she’s selfish. she wants to see just a whisper of what he could have been–– what he would have been with all that blood coursing through him. if she had a soul, she’d give it to him. all of her.
she’s on her toes, tangling her fingers into his hair and pulling. her body presses impossibly tight against him and she can’t DENY the whimper that plays on her lips. and oh, how she wants to tear his clothes off. her mouth, her tongue, they tease and trail along his jaw. her teeth catch his ear and bite down.
“then take it–––” she whispers, hot and breathy. because if there’s one thing she knows, ruby is well aware of the fact that he is fully capable of taking from her what he WANTS. what he needs.
“–––– go on, sammy, HURT ME.”
