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xtremeroswelliaTitle: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala
Fic 19: Guide You Home
Authors: xtremeroswellia and clarksmuse
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: SO not ours. But we still dream!
The darkness crowded around them, save for the tiny beam of light streaming ahead of them, the solitary headlight showing Dean the way to the small cottage he knew belonged to Bobby when he was hunting for deer. He concentrated on finding the dirt road that led to it, the wind whipping across his face like a lash. He felt arms squeeze his waist and tried to smile. Chloe was still with him, physically, at least. And he knew the only thing to get her with him mentally was to break the Winchester code: talk to her.
He let go of a handlebar only long enough to make sure Chloe was secure behind him, grasping her arms one at a time to pull her closer.
She rested her head against his back, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as she held onto him, the cool wind stinging her skin. The helmet kept her hair from whipping her in the face and she shuddered involuntarily against him, swallowing hard. She didn't know where they were going, just that they'd been on the road on this motorcycle for a little over two hours. If she'd allowed her mental wall to drop, she would have been able to find out, but the idea of letting that barrier fall now terrified her.
Dean tried to call out to her mentally, but she had clearly blocked him out. That hurt but wasn't surprising. The problem was, he didn't know just how to get her to talk to him. He slowed the bike at the approaching right hand turn and maneuvered them onto a gravel road. Minutes later, they reached the cabin.
He pried Chloe's arms off him and shut off the bike. The headlight was the only thing keeping them from shrouding them in complete darkness. "Can you get the flashlight from the bag by your leg, Chlo?" he asked quietly and got off the bike.
She slid off the back of the bike slowly, nodding wordlessly and kneeling down to grab the flashlight from the duffel as he'd requested. She quickly flipped it on, turning to shine it on the small cabin cradled in the woods in front of them.
Dean turned and gently took the bike helmet off her head; he smoothed her blonde hair from her face and took a moment to marvel over how incredible she was. How close he had come to losing her. She didn't look up, though, so he sighed and took her hand, grabbing the duffel with his free hand and led her into the cabin.
"Whose cabin is this?" she murmured as he led her inside. She watched as he moved to light a fire in the fireplace and it dawned on her this cabin didn't have power. For some reason she found that comforting.
"Bobby's," he replied and watched the flames lick the dry logs, a thin stream of light quickly combusting into a bright, warm light. He smiled a little when he felt her stiffen. "For deer season."
"Oh." She wound her arms around herself, her gaze flickering over the dimly lit cabin.
Standing slowly, Dean walked over to her and took her hand gently. He found a spot by the fire, a clean place against the wall, and sat down. He pulled her down to him and rested her body against his chest. His arms wound around her and cradled her. He buried his face into her hair and dropped a kiss onto her head.
She shut her eyes as he pulled her against him, his body so familiar to her as she rested her head in the crook of his neck, one hand resting against his chest, over his heart. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, warmth slowly seeping into her veins from his body heat and that from the flickering firelight.
Dean shut his eyes and leaned his head on the wall. He had wondered if they would ever be like this again, especially since Lex was killed, something he wished he could have spared her. She might not be so torn up inside. As it was, he fought for the words to get her to speak to him.
It took him a full minute to speak. "Why did you leave?" he whispered hoarsely and squeezed her a little.
Her eyebrows furrowed a little, but she kept her eyes shut, unable to speak. Her heart beat heavily in her chest as she let the wall between their minds drop. I couldn't face you after what I'd done.
He winced inwardly at her sad, defeated tone of voice. He threaded his fingers through her hair slowly. Why, Chloe?
She wondered how he could even ask that. Tears prickled at her eyelids and she forced herself to take in another slow breath in an attempt to calm her frazzled nerves. I slept with Clark. She shuddered involuntarily.
He frowned. Meg slept with Clark, he pointed out. Totally different because it wasn't you.
It was my body, she whispered against his mind.
But your body isn't you. Chloe, you think I only want your body?
She shuddered again, the urge to cry growing stronger. No. I don't think that.
Clearly she did, because her trembling gave it away. He groaned and held onto her tightly. "You scared the hell outta me when you just up and left like you did. I can't bear the thought of losing you," he whispered in her ear.
She pressed her face against his neck, her arms slowly winding around him in return. "I'm sorry," she whispered back.
Guilt stung at him, biting at his heart like an animal. "Please don't say that," he replied, his voice filled with anxiety. "I'm the one who's sorry." He felt a tidal wave of emotion inside and wasn't sure if he could contain it.
Her voice was pained when she spoke again. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she choked out.
The hell I don't, he thought. I should have been the one to... I was a damn fool for not killing Lex when I had the chance. It's my fault you were left open for possession.
Her fingers slid through his hair and she pressed her lips against his shoulder, holding onto him tightly. "If I had to do it again, I would," she whispered.
He was surprised to find his body trembling against her touch. "Why?" he rasped and brushed his fingers down the length of her neck.
She pulled away from him slowly so she could see his face. "Because he would've killed you."
He studied her face intently for a moment, caught up by the quiet chaos in her eyes. "And in doing so, I nearly killed you," he replied. "So who's the guilty party? Me, Chloe. Not you. Never you. I love you too much to ever think you guilty of anything."
She shook her head, placing a hand against his cheek. "No. What Lex did...nearly killed me. Not you," she whispered, a tear trickling down her face.
"Chloe," Dean said softly and caressed her cheek, his thumb wiping her tear away. "I feel so guilty for what happened, and then when you left... I was so scared. I knew something was not right, especially after I heard what you said to... Clark." He winced at the mere mention of the other man's name.
She flinched at his name, as well, looking guilt-stricken and quickly dropping her gaze to the floor. "I'm so sorry that...." Her voice broke and she shook her head a little. You saw us like that. Her stomach twisted into a knot.
Dean brushed his lips against her cheek and squeezed her. That bitch knew just how to hurt me, he admitted, because that's been my worst fear. But it wasn't you, Chloe. It might have been your body, but it wasn't you.
She tightened her arms around him a little, pressing her face against his neck again. "But she used *me* to hurt you," she whispered brokenly.
"No she didn't," he protested. "You weren't there in the moment. You might have seen what happened, but the Chloe I love was a prisoner to that evil bitch's desires."
She shuddered against him, her nails digging lightly into his shoulder blades.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you? I love you, all of you. Everything you are. How you love and fight and everything else in between. You're it for me."
"Don't say that," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly.
"Why not?" he asked simply. "It's true. When I say I love you, it's the real thing, something I never thought I'd ever know. You're part of my family, a big part of it." As he spoke, Dean rubbed her back slowly, trying to ease the tension from her body.
She rested a hand against his chest once more. "Because all I know how to do is break your heart." Her voice was barely audible.
He moved her hand and placed it over his heart. "Does my heart sound broken?" he whispered.
She drew in a shaky breath. "Isn't it?" She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with despair.
Dean smiled a little, a genuine smile he reserved only for her. "No, it isn't," he replied, "because you're here with me, you're safe. I don't want to live without you, Chloe Sullivan." He traced a finger down her nose, his eyes turning sad when he thought that maybe, she didn't want him. That sobered him and he looked down.
She flinched at the words he left unspoken and lifted her hand to his cheek, making him look at her. Wordlessly she leaned in and kissed him softly.
Large tears fell from his eyes when he tasted her lips on his, hesitant but filled with unspoken promise. Dean kissed her back, his heart in his throat, uncertain for the first time in his life of what to say or do.
Their tears mingled together on his face and she trembled against him, her hand moving to touch the back of his head, her fingers threading through his short hair.
His hands settled onto her waist and held her fast and firm as he deepened their kisses. Please don't leave me alone, he thought, his mental voice practically a sob of despair.
A soft whimper escaped her at the plea, her heart aching so badly it took her breath away for a moment. I love you.
He pulled away and looked into her eyes for some sign that she was telling the truth. The fire flickered in the background and surrounded her body in light. Her eyes glittered with still unshed tears, the light catching them and illuminating the warmth and love he found lurking in depths he would willingly lose himself in. He grinned. "Not as much as I love you," he replied.
The ghost of a smile touched her lips and she pressed her hands to his cheeks again, leaning her forehead against his and shutting her eyes.
Dean slid his hands over hers and closed his eyes as they leaned against each other for several moments. He had no words, no thoughts. It was only the two of them. And for the first time all night, he felt like Chloe was coming back to him, for good, he hoped. Her bare hands, though, reminded him of something, so he took her hands and looked down at her. "Found something that belongs to you," he said and kissed her fingertips.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him reach into his jeans pocket. She sucked in a surprised breath at the sight of his ring. "Where did you find it?" she whispered, lifting her gaze to meet his.
"In the Impala, while I was hauling ass getting my crap together to go hunt you down," he smirked and stared intently at her. "This protects you from possession. If it fell off your finger, and I think it did, then that's how Meg got into you."
"I wouldn't have taken it off," she whispered, leaning her head against his once more. "Not voluntarily."
"I know," he replied and kissed her gently. "But I want you to have it back, because it's really yours. Kinda like my heart." He gave her a lopsided, heart-stopping grin.
Tears shone in her eyes as she gazed at him for a moment, returning the soft kiss. "And mine is yours," she whispered as he slowly slid the ring onto her finger once more.
Dean thought his heart would stop, it was beating so quickly. His intense eyes gazed at her face and watched the emotions cross her face when she looked at his ring on her right middle finger. He was stuck speechless at her quiet confession and put her hand over his heart. "Then I'll keep it here. Safe. Forever."
A tear trickled down her cheek at his quiet promise because she knew he meant it. She leaned closer to him, brushing her lips against his softly.
Catching her face between his hands, Dean kissed her with a deliberate intensity, his heart feeling whole for the first time in a very long time. There was no way he was going to let her go. Nothing was going to separate them. he heard a low moan in the back of her throat and smiled against her lips.
"Make love to me," she whispered, her voice a barely audible plea, her eyes drifting shut.
"I've never stopped," he grunted against her lips but crushed her body to his insistently, his hardness brushing against her thigh.
She slid her hand down his neck, her fingers trailing down his skin as she shifted against him.
His hands moved underneath her armpits and he hauled them off the floor, his legs almost buckling beneath him at the ferocity of his need for her. Dean picked her up and crossed the small room to a small twin-sized bed in the far corner, opposite the fireplace. The faint light cast their shadows on the walls as he lowered her to the bed and moved over her. "He couldn't have a bigger bed," Dean growled and tackled the buttons on her shirt, his lips and tongue tracing her neck and following his hands.
A faint smile tugged at her lips at his remark and she reached out, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, as well. "We'll make do," she whispered.
"Thank God we're both in shape," he muttered and watched his hands spread over her lace-covered breasts. He admired the flush covering her skin, the beads of sweat that popped out on her chest, the racing heart beneath her ribcage. Dean leaned down and rested his ear between her breasts and listened to her heartbeat. Mine, he thought.
She closed her eyes at his silent but sure claim on her heart, sliding her fingers through his hair. Yours, she agreed without hesitation.
He reacted almost violently to her agreement, his body hard with desire. He unsnapped her front clasped bra and licked her skin, tweaking her nipples into taut peaks. His hands then slid to caress her jean-clad thighs. He sat up and found her hands gently pulling his hands away as he fumbled with her jeans zipper.
"Dean," she whispered, stilling his hands for a moment as she gazed up at him.
Startled by her voice, he looked down at her. The fire was dying in the fireplace, but his body felt as hot as an oven. "Yeah?"
"Slow down," she said softly, sitting up so they were face to face. She gazed at him in the semi-darkness, then reached out and slowly slid the shirt off his shoulders, her hands sliding over his skin gently.
Dean bit his lip and let her run her hands over his torso, effectively letting her stoke the fires of his love for her in the process. He felt her nuzzle his neck and gently bite the tender spot, which made him physically quake. His hands itched to touch her, so he slid her shirt and bra from her shoulders and ran fingers up her spine.
Chloe closed her eyes at the feather-light touch, sighing very softly against him as she brushed a kiss against his collarbone. She trailed her lips against his skin until their mouths met once more, her arms sliding around him and her nails raking lightly over his back.
His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue sliding against her lips to entreat entrance. When she sighed and opened her lips, Dean deepened their kisses, his hands gripping her lower back as their bodies bumped together gently. Her breasts moved against his naked chest and he groaned once more, unable to ever get enough of her. He gently pressed her back onto the mattress and continued their heated kisses.
"I love you," she breathed against his lips, shifting beneath him.
He lightly ground his hard length against her and smiled. "I love you, too," he whispered and kissed her nose before returning to her mouth. One hand planted itself on her side while the other explored her body and stopped to cup her breast.
Her eyes drifted shut as she let his touches and gentle caresses carry her to a place where guilt and fear had no place in the world. Where it was only the two of them. Forever.
Forever. Her voice echoed in his mind and he smiled at her thoughts. He kissed across her cheek and moved slowly down her neck, his stomach curling in anticipation and his cock straining against his jeans. He ignored the demands of his body, though, to focus on pleasing her. He licked her nipple and kissed her breasts, one at a time.
Her fingers curled in his hair and she shivered at the sensation of his lips against her skin. Somewhere within her she felt something shift, change and she realized it was her letting go of her will to resist surrender.
He felt her suddenly relax, felt her body push against his in acceptance, and he looked up at her. He moved over her and into her heated eyes. "Everything okay?" he whispered, though he already knew the answer.
"Yes," she whispered back, reaching up to touch his cheek as she gazed into his eyes.
He nodded and grunted. "Good, good. Because... I'm not going to last much longer," he whispered, slightly shamed by the thought. He turned into her caress.
She slid her fingers lightly over his cheek, inhaling slowly when he turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. Wordlessly she slid her hands down his body, undoing the button on his jeans and pulling down the zipper.
Dean gritted his teeth when she slid his jeans and boxers over his hips, his manhood springing forth, hard and ready for her. When she gently stroked him, his hips involuntarily shifted against her hand and rode it slowly. He groaned and licked his way down her flat stomach.
A soft moan escaped her as his fingers brushed over her thighs as he tugged her own jeans down and off. "Please," she murmured.
He chuckled from the sheer frustration in her voice and spread her thighs wide, his finger playing with her clit gently. "Your wish," he replied and slipped a finger into her wet heat. He was surprised by how ready she was, emphasized by her movements against his hand.
Chloe whimpered, her hips rising to meet his movement, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead and chest as she shifted restlessly beneath him.
Dean moved between her thighs and replaced his finger with his hardness, guiding himself into her with such ease he nearly lose his control. Their bodies stuck together as he slowly pumped into her, unable to do anything but watch the pleasure on her face.
She shut her eyes, arching her hips to meet him halfway, winding her legs around his waist even as her arms pulled him against her. A tear slipped down her face as he filled her physically, emotionally, his presence gluing the broken pieces of her heart back together with his gentle touches. With the silent promise of forever.
Dean supported her body by cupping her ass with one hand, his mouth gently kissing away her tears as they moved in perfect harmony. He knew in a heartbeat, knew when she yielded to his touch, that she would be okay. That she loved him, wanted him, just as he needed her with his entire being. No other woman would ever be on his radar. Not when he had Chloe by his side, as his partner.
He whispered to her words of love as their rhythm because hard and insistent, ragged and uneven.
She tightened her arms around him, his name a soft cry on her lips as her climax hit, pleasure and absolution washing over her together as he followed a moment later. Her breathing was shallow, and ragged as she slid her hands down his back, his heated skin warming hers.
Dean's breathing hitched in his throat at her touch, their bodies slick with perspiration. He slowly moved them to they faced each other, bodies pressed close together, on the narrow bed. He brushed the damp tendrils of hair from her face and smiled peacefully, for in truth, he was at peace. Whole. Complete. Loved. He hardly knew what to say, as awed as he was by her.
She rested her head against his collarbone as sleep washed over her, sweeping her away in its gentle warmth, embracing her and carrying her into a peaceful oblivion as she lay in his arms for the first time in a week. Her last thought was that she was finally home.
Fic 19: Guide You Home
Authors: xtremeroswellia and clarksmuse
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: SO not ours. But we still dream!
The darkness crowded around them, save for the tiny beam of light streaming ahead of them, the solitary headlight showing Dean the way to the small cottage he knew belonged to Bobby when he was hunting for deer. He concentrated on finding the dirt road that led to it, the wind whipping across his face like a lash. He felt arms squeeze his waist and tried to smile. Chloe was still with him, physically, at least. And he knew the only thing to get her with him mentally was to break the Winchester code: talk to her.
He let go of a handlebar only long enough to make sure Chloe was secure behind him, grasping her arms one at a time to pull her closer.
She rested her head against his back, keeping her eyes squeezed shut as she held onto him, the cool wind stinging her skin. The helmet kept her hair from whipping her in the face and she shuddered involuntarily against him, swallowing hard. She didn't know where they were going, just that they'd been on the road on this motorcycle for a little over two hours. If she'd allowed her mental wall to drop, she would have been able to find out, but the idea of letting that barrier fall now terrified her.
Dean tried to call out to her mentally, but she had clearly blocked him out. That hurt but wasn't surprising. The problem was, he didn't know just how to get her to talk to him. He slowed the bike at the approaching right hand turn and maneuvered them onto a gravel road. Minutes later, they reached the cabin.
He pried Chloe's arms off him and shut off the bike. The headlight was the only thing keeping them from shrouding them in complete darkness. "Can you get the flashlight from the bag by your leg, Chlo?" he asked quietly and got off the bike.
She slid off the back of the bike slowly, nodding wordlessly and kneeling down to grab the flashlight from the duffel as he'd requested. She quickly flipped it on, turning to shine it on the small cabin cradled in the woods in front of them.
Dean turned and gently took the bike helmet off her head; he smoothed her blonde hair from her face and took a moment to marvel over how incredible she was. How close he had come to losing her. She didn't look up, though, so he sighed and took her hand, grabbing the duffel with his free hand and led her into the cabin.
"Whose cabin is this?" she murmured as he led her inside. She watched as he moved to light a fire in the fireplace and it dawned on her this cabin didn't have power. For some reason she found that comforting.
"Bobby's," he replied and watched the flames lick the dry logs, a thin stream of light quickly combusting into a bright, warm light. He smiled a little when he felt her stiffen. "For deer season."
"Oh." She wound her arms around herself, her gaze flickering over the dimly lit cabin.
Standing slowly, Dean walked over to her and took her hand gently. He found a spot by the fire, a clean place against the wall, and sat down. He pulled her down to him and rested her body against his chest. His arms wound around her and cradled her. He buried his face into her hair and dropped a kiss onto her head.
She shut her eyes as he pulled her against him, his body so familiar to her as she rested her head in the crook of his neck, one hand resting against his chest, over his heart. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, warmth slowly seeping into her veins from his body heat and that from the flickering firelight.
Dean shut his eyes and leaned his head on the wall. He had wondered if they would ever be like this again, especially since Lex was killed, something he wished he could have spared her. She might not be so torn up inside. As it was, he fought for the words to get her to speak to him.
It took him a full minute to speak. "Why did you leave?" he whispered hoarsely and squeezed her a little.
Her eyebrows furrowed a little, but she kept her eyes shut, unable to speak. Her heart beat heavily in her chest as she let the wall between their minds drop. I couldn't face you after what I'd done.
He winced inwardly at her sad, defeated tone of voice. He threaded his fingers through her hair slowly. Why, Chloe?
She wondered how he could even ask that. Tears prickled at her eyelids and she forced herself to take in another slow breath in an attempt to calm her frazzled nerves. I slept with Clark. She shuddered involuntarily.
He frowned. Meg slept with Clark, he pointed out. Totally different because it wasn't you.
It was my body, she whispered against his mind.
But your body isn't you. Chloe, you think I only want your body?
She shuddered again, the urge to cry growing stronger. No. I don't think that.
Clearly she did, because her trembling gave it away. He groaned and held onto her tightly. "You scared the hell outta me when you just up and left like you did. I can't bear the thought of losing you," he whispered in her ear.
She pressed her face against his neck, her arms slowly winding around him in return. "I'm sorry," she whispered back.
Guilt stung at him, biting at his heart like an animal. "Please don't say that," he replied, his voice filled with anxiety. "I'm the one who's sorry." He felt a tidal wave of emotion inside and wasn't sure if he could contain it.
Her voice was pained when she spoke again. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she choked out.
The hell I don't, he thought. I should have been the one to... I was a damn fool for not killing Lex when I had the chance. It's my fault you were left open for possession.
Her fingers slid through his hair and she pressed her lips against his shoulder, holding onto him tightly. "If I had to do it again, I would," she whispered.
He was surprised to find his body trembling against her touch. "Why?" he rasped and brushed his fingers down the length of her neck.
She pulled away from him slowly so she could see his face. "Because he would've killed you."
He studied her face intently for a moment, caught up by the quiet chaos in her eyes. "And in doing so, I nearly killed you," he replied. "So who's the guilty party? Me, Chloe. Not you. Never you. I love you too much to ever think you guilty of anything."
She shook her head, placing a hand against his cheek. "No. What Lex did...nearly killed me. Not you," she whispered, a tear trickling down her face.
"Chloe," Dean said softly and caressed her cheek, his thumb wiping her tear away. "I feel so guilty for what happened, and then when you left... I was so scared. I knew something was not right, especially after I heard what you said to... Clark." He winced at the mere mention of the other man's name.
She flinched at his name, as well, looking guilt-stricken and quickly dropping her gaze to the floor. "I'm so sorry that...." Her voice broke and she shook her head a little. You saw us like that. Her stomach twisted into a knot.
Dean brushed his lips against her cheek and squeezed her. That bitch knew just how to hurt me, he admitted, because that's been my worst fear. But it wasn't you, Chloe. It might have been your body, but it wasn't you.
She tightened her arms around him a little, pressing her face against his neck again. "But she used *me* to hurt you," she whispered brokenly.
"No she didn't," he protested. "You weren't there in the moment. You might have seen what happened, but the Chloe I love was a prisoner to that evil bitch's desires."
She shuddered against him, her nails digging lightly into his shoulder blades.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you? I love you, all of you. Everything you are. How you love and fight and everything else in between. You're it for me."
"Don't say that," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly.
"Why not?" he asked simply. "It's true. When I say I love you, it's the real thing, something I never thought I'd ever know. You're part of my family, a big part of it." As he spoke, Dean rubbed her back slowly, trying to ease the tension from her body.
She rested a hand against his chest once more. "Because all I know how to do is break your heart." Her voice was barely audible.
He moved her hand and placed it over his heart. "Does my heart sound broken?" he whispered.
She drew in a shaky breath. "Isn't it?" She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with despair.
Dean smiled a little, a genuine smile he reserved only for her. "No, it isn't," he replied, "because you're here with me, you're safe. I don't want to live without you, Chloe Sullivan." He traced a finger down her nose, his eyes turning sad when he thought that maybe, she didn't want him. That sobered him and he looked down.
She flinched at the words he left unspoken and lifted her hand to his cheek, making him look at her. Wordlessly she leaned in and kissed him softly.
Large tears fell from his eyes when he tasted her lips on his, hesitant but filled with unspoken promise. Dean kissed her back, his heart in his throat, uncertain for the first time in his life of what to say or do.
Their tears mingled together on his face and she trembled against him, her hand moving to touch the back of his head, her fingers threading through his short hair.
His hands settled onto her waist and held her fast and firm as he deepened their kisses. Please don't leave me alone, he thought, his mental voice practically a sob of despair.
A soft whimper escaped her at the plea, her heart aching so badly it took her breath away for a moment. I love you.
He pulled away and looked into her eyes for some sign that she was telling the truth. The fire flickered in the background and surrounded her body in light. Her eyes glittered with still unshed tears, the light catching them and illuminating the warmth and love he found lurking in depths he would willingly lose himself in. He grinned. "Not as much as I love you," he replied.
The ghost of a smile touched her lips and she pressed her hands to his cheeks again, leaning her forehead against his and shutting her eyes.
Dean slid his hands over hers and closed his eyes as they leaned against each other for several moments. He had no words, no thoughts. It was only the two of them. And for the first time all night, he felt like Chloe was coming back to him, for good, he hoped. Her bare hands, though, reminded him of something, so he took her hands and looked down at her. "Found something that belongs to you," he said and kissed her fingertips.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him reach into his jeans pocket. She sucked in a surprised breath at the sight of his ring. "Where did you find it?" she whispered, lifting her gaze to meet his.
"In the Impala, while I was hauling ass getting my crap together to go hunt you down," he smirked and stared intently at her. "This protects you from possession. If it fell off your finger, and I think it did, then that's how Meg got into you."
"I wouldn't have taken it off," she whispered, leaning her head against his once more. "Not voluntarily."
"I know," he replied and kissed her gently. "But I want you to have it back, because it's really yours. Kinda like my heart." He gave her a lopsided, heart-stopping grin.
Tears shone in her eyes as she gazed at him for a moment, returning the soft kiss. "And mine is yours," she whispered as he slowly slid the ring onto her finger once more.
Dean thought his heart would stop, it was beating so quickly. His intense eyes gazed at her face and watched the emotions cross her face when she looked at his ring on her right middle finger. He was stuck speechless at her quiet confession and put her hand over his heart. "Then I'll keep it here. Safe. Forever."
A tear trickled down her cheek at his quiet promise because she knew he meant it. She leaned closer to him, brushing her lips against his softly.
Catching her face between his hands, Dean kissed her with a deliberate intensity, his heart feeling whole for the first time in a very long time. There was no way he was going to let her go. Nothing was going to separate them. he heard a low moan in the back of her throat and smiled against her lips.
"Make love to me," she whispered, her voice a barely audible plea, her eyes drifting shut.
"I've never stopped," he grunted against her lips but crushed her body to his insistently, his hardness brushing against her thigh.
She slid her hand down his neck, her fingers trailing down his skin as she shifted against him.
His hands moved underneath her armpits and he hauled them off the floor, his legs almost buckling beneath him at the ferocity of his need for her. Dean picked her up and crossed the small room to a small twin-sized bed in the far corner, opposite the fireplace. The faint light cast their shadows on the walls as he lowered her to the bed and moved over her. "He couldn't have a bigger bed," Dean growled and tackled the buttons on her shirt, his lips and tongue tracing her neck and following his hands.
A faint smile tugged at her lips at his remark and she reached out, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, as well. "We'll make do," she whispered.
"Thank God we're both in shape," he muttered and watched his hands spread over her lace-covered breasts. He admired the flush covering her skin, the beads of sweat that popped out on her chest, the racing heart beneath her ribcage. Dean leaned down and rested his ear between her breasts and listened to her heartbeat. Mine, he thought.
She closed her eyes at his silent but sure claim on her heart, sliding her fingers through his hair. Yours, she agreed without hesitation.
He reacted almost violently to her agreement, his body hard with desire. He unsnapped her front clasped bra and licked her skin, tweaking her nipples into taut peaks. His hands then slid to caress her jean-clad thighs. He sat up and found her hands gently pulling his hands away as he fumbled with her jeans zipper.
"Dean," she whispered, stilling his hands for a moment as she gazed up at him.
Startled by her voice, he looked down at her. The fire was dying in the fireplace, but his body felt as hot as an oven. "Yeah?"
"Slow down," she said softly, sitting up so they were face to face. She gazed at him in the semi-darkness, then reached out and slowly slid the shirt off his shoulders, her hands sliding over his skin gently.
Dean bit his lip and let her run her hands over his torso, effectively letting her stoke the fires of his love for her in the process. He felt her nuzzle his neck and gently bite the tender spot, which made him physically quake. His hands itched to touch her, so he slid her shirt and bra from her shoulders and ran fingers up her spine.
Chloe closed her eyes at the feather-light touch, sighing very softly against him as she brushed a kiss against his collarbone. She trailed her lips against his skin until their mouths met once more, her arms sliding around him and her nails raking lightly over his back.
His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue sliding against her lips to entreat entrance. When she sighed and opened her lips, Dean deepened their kisses, his hands gripping her lower back as their bodies bumped together gently. Her breasts moved against his naked chest and he groaned once more, unable to ever get enough of her. He gently pressed her back onto the mattress and continued their heated kisses.
"I love you," she breathed against his lips, shifting beneath him.
He lightly ground his hard length against her and smiled. "I love you, too," he whispered and kissed her nose before returning to her mouth. One hand planted itself on her side while the other explored her body and stopped to cup her breast.
Her eyes drifted shut as she let his touches and gentle caresses carry her to a place where guilt and fear had no place in the world. Where it was only the two of them. Forever.
Forever. Her voice echoed in his mind and he smiled at her thoughts. He kissed across her cheek and moved slowly down her neck, his stomach curling in anticipation and his cock straining against his jeans. He ignored the demands of his body, though, to focus on pleasing her. He licked her nipple and kissed her breasts, one at a time.
Her fingers curled in his hair and she shivered at the sensation of his lips against her skin. Somewhere within her she felt something shift, change and she realized it was her letting go of her will to resist surrender.
He felt her suddenly relax, felt her body push against his in acceptance, and he looked up at her. He moved over her and into her heated eyes. "Everything okay?" he whispered, though he already knew the answer.
"Yes," she whispered back, reaching up to touch his cheek as she gazed into his eyes.
He nodded and grunted. "Good, good. Because... I'm not going to last much longer," he whispered, slightly shamed by the thought. He turned into her caress.
She slid her fingers lightly over his cheek, inhaling slowly when he turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. Wordlessly she slid her hands down his body, undoing the button on his jeans and pulling down the zipper.
Dean gritted his teeth when she slid his jeans and boxers over his hips, his manhood springing forth, hard and ready for her. When she gently stroked him, his hips involuntarily shifted against her hand and rode it slowly. He groaned and licked his way down her flat stomach.
A soft moan escaped her as his fingers brushed over her thighs as he tugged her own jeans down and off. "Please," she murmured.
He chuckled from the sheer frustration in her voice and spread her thighs wide, his finger playing with her clit gently. "Your wish," he replied and slipped a finger into her wet heat. He was surprised by how ready she was, emphasized by her movements against his hand.
Chloe whimpered, her hips rising to meet his movement, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead and chest as she shifted restlessly beneath him.
Dean moved between her thighs and replaced his finger with his hardness, guiding himself into her with such ease he nearly lose his control. Their bodies stuck together as he slowly pumped into her, unable to do anything but watch the pleasure on her face.
She shut her eyes, arching her hips to meet him halfway, winding her legs around his waist even as her arms pulled him against her. A tear slipped down her face as he filled her physically, emotionally, his presence gluing the broken pieces of her heart back together with his gentle touches. With the silent promise of forever.
Dean supported her body by cupping her ass with one hand, his mouth gently kissing away her tears as they moved in perfect harmony. He knew in a heartbeat, knew when she yielded to his touch, that she would be okay. That she loved him, wanted him, just as he needed her with his entire being. No other woman would ever be on his radar. Not when he had Chloe by his side, as his partner.
He whispered to her words of love as their rhythm because hard and insistent, ragged and uneven.
She tightened her arms around him, his name a soft cry on her lips as her climax hit, pleasure and absolution washing over her together as he followed a moment later. Her breathing was shallow, and ragged as she slid her hands down his back, his heated skin warming hers.
Dean's breathing hitched in his throat at her touch, their bodies slick with perspiration. He slowly moved them to they faced each other, bodies pressed close together, on the narrow bed. He brushed the damp tendrils of hair from her face and smiled peacefully, for in truth, he was at peace. Whole. Complete. Loved. He hardly knew what to say, as awed as he was by her.
She rested her head against his collarbone as sleep washed over her, sweeping her away in its gentle warmth, embracing her and carrying her into a peaceful oblivion as she lay in his arms for the first time in a week. Her last thought was that she was finally home.
