Sam had gotten himself under control by the time she came back out. There was only the tiniest hint of a smile when he looked at her. Well, shit. This is going to be the elephant in the room. “Well, in light of recent events,” she glared again at Dean, “I think I’m going to look the house over myself.”
“Why?” Sam asked.
“So I can find a better place to change than the kitchen. You know, a door with a lock.”
Dean blushed scarlet to his hairline as Sam choked off another laugh. Ignoring them both, she turned around and set back off through the house. The first floor offered nothing useful. The front room, kitchen, and a small door-less laundry room made up the entire first level. The basement was out of the question. That only left one direction. She only stomped a little as she went up the stairs to the second level. Jo looked briefly around the room at the right of the stairs, deciding that the old fashioned lock was not acceptable. You could look right through it. She turned to the left and her heart pounded when she realized what room she could go look at, making her pause while she was still at the head of the stairs.
“Jo, you alright?”
She glanced down at Sam, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just wondering which door to start with.” She tried to ignore the look on Sam’s face as she started down the hall. I’ll just start at this end and work my way down. No reason for that room to be special. The first door turned out to be a ladder leading upward to a small attic. The next two were unimpressive bedrooms of medium size, both with no lock on the door. She stood in front of the last door, staring at it. And of course, this door locked. She had no idea why her pulse was racing so fast; both boys were downstairs, not behind this door. Besides, hadn’t she seen all the proof she’d needed last night? What was the point of looking, really? She opened it slowly, expecting another medium sized bedroom. She was surprised by how wrong she was. This room ran the width of the house and was significantly larger than the others. Floor to ceiling windows were on the eastern and southern walls, letting in the maximum amount of light. Of course, they’d let in a lot of moonlight too. There was another abandoned couch; it was faded and sagged in the middle but it was still in much better shape than the one downstairs. Selfish bastards. An equally faded area rug was still on the floor and empty shelves lined the walls that weren’t taken up by windows. She drifted over to the couch without realizing it and ran her hand along the back edge. It may have been old and faded, but the fabric was still soft and pliant. It felt good under her hands. She could all too easily imagine the hard plains of a certain chest being pushed into the couch, enjoying the soft skin against him and the soft fabric under him. Jo shook her head to clear the image. She had been standing there, staring at the couch seeing unspeakable things. She didn’t feel ashamed or wrong, she just felt horny.
Jo heard the footsteps half a second before he spoke, “Are you going to stand there petting the couch all day?” Sam’s voice curled around her. It wasn’t the brother she had been hoping for, but she recognized that tone. This wasn’t the voice Sam normally had. This was the voice she’d heard late in the night, taunting his brother, saying wicked things. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her anxious body and suddenly she could smell it. The tangy, musty smell of sex; oily and salty and metallic all at the same time. The couch reeked of it. Had it smelled that way before or was she imagining it now because Sam was behind her? “Look at me, Jo.” Taking another shaking breath, she turned slowly to face him.
Even fully clothed, it was almost like a strip show, watching him come into view. He was so much more confident than normal. His stance was wider and more relaxed; he looked stronger and more capable. It dawned on Jo how large Sam really was. He was not as wide in the shoulders as Dean, and he wasn’t quite as toned, but he was tall, his reach was long and the only thing soft about him was that hair. He was not at all a small man and without his normal self-consciousness making him slouch and shrink down, she could really see him. She could even see the force of the person that hid behind those puppy dog eyes. It was almost as if someone else was looking out at her. Jo felt a momentary flash of fear, remembering the last time she’d seen someone else looking out from Sam’s eyes, but she relaxed almost immediately remembering also the tattoos. No, he wasn’t possessed. Not by a demon anyway. Looking at Sam’s smile though, it was no wonder her thoughts had turned to demons. Sam could almost read the thoughts on her face and his smile faded. “I’m not going to hurt you, Jo. Not ever again.”
She nodded slightly, “I know that.”
Sam’s eyes regained that mischievous look, “Well, not unless you ask me to anyway.” Her teasing smile was short lived because Sam began to close the space between them. He cupped her face with one hand and smiled down at her. “I won’t hurt Dean either.” She looked up at him, her confusion plain. “I know you know, Joanna.”
Her eyes widened just a touch before she caught herself. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but then, most people weren’t Sam Winchester. His smile became darker, more sensual. “I know you saw us.” She tried to use her walls of denial, give him one of her thousands of bricks but everything died in her throat as he leaned down, putting one hand on the couch behind her and lowered himself to her lips. Not quite a kiss, he just touched his mouth to hers and she could feel him smiling still. Jo started to pull away but his hand held her in place. “I won’t hurt you. But I know you saw us. I saw you too, Jo.” Her mouth dried completely. She couldn’t speak, could barely breath. “When you thought I was upstairs and gone, I stood there and watched you.” His tongue ran slowly along her bottom lip. She hated the anxious whimper she made. “Watching you get yourself off, knowing that watching us made you that hot…” Sam shuddered and sighed, “Well, it certainly did something for me.”
He pressed his lips gently to hers. Jo stood there, too shocked and unsure to respond until his tongue ran her lips again, this time trying to get in. Her control snapped. She opened for him, letting her inhibitions slide away. She pushed roughly against him, crushing her lips on his teeth, growling in his mouth. His tongue plunged into her, drinking the taste of her in, stabbing and curling around her as if he was trying to learn the shape of her mouth. Jo wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her, trying to pull him into her, through her, trying to join them in whatever way possible. Her hands slid under his shirts and up the warm skin of his back, nails digging in slightly as she grasped at him. He grabbed handfuls of her hair and jerked her head back, breaking the kiss. He came up laughing; a thick wet sound that made Jo think of dark things done in dark places. “You heard us that first night, didn’t you? Snuck up here and spied on us?”
She was beyond any kind of denial. “Yes.”
That smile came back. He twisted her hair and wrapped it around one large hand, pulling just a little; enough to hold her still. “I have to know why, though?”
“Why you want me right now? Why you want this? Is it because you want me? Or is it because of him? Is it because I’ve had him and you want him? Why, Joanna?”
She forced her brain to work past the feel of his hands on her. Why was she so desperate for this? Was it because of Dean? That didn’t’ seem right. She hadn’t thought about Dean in the last few minutes with Sam touching her. What about Sam made her want this? “Because I heard you. I heard you talking to him like that and manipulating him and I want it. I want to be used.” The grip in her hair got tighter.
“You want me to top you?” Sam asked, clearly surprised.
“Only a little.” She leaned towards him, forcing him to pull harder. “Please, Sam.”
There was a moan deep in his throat and he pulled her tight against him. She was right, he loved the begging. Sam captured her mouth, violently kissing her, biting at her lips, demanding more. She gave into him utterly, trusting him to hurt her. He let go of her hair and grabbed a hold of her thighs with both hands, lifting her up onto him. When she wrapped her legs around him, he shifted his grip to her ass, digging his fingers deep into her flesh. She knew that she would have fingerprint bruises later; he was doing exactly what she had asked for. Eager noises where escaping her as she struggled to hold onto him and writhe against the cock she felt pushed against her at the same time. He set her on the back of the couch to grind harder into her. The harsh rasp of their jeans was just this side of too painful. Taking hold of her hair again, he jerked, forcing her head back and her back to bow, offering up her neck like a Black Swan. He set his teeth at the base of her neck, just above the jugular, letting the threat of it thrill through her. Then he bit down, hard. She screamed and bucked against him as best she could, amazed to find that she was already coming. The pain washed through her, making the orgasm short but hard and he kept his teeth tight on her neck until she calmed. He was pleased when he released her to see a bruise already forming on that wonderfully pale skin. Sam languidly ran his tongue over her throat, licking the bruise as if he could taste it. Jo slumped forward as soon as she was free, still almost lost to the waves of pleasure.
He chuckled darkly against her, “Not done yet. Now, it’s my turn.” His hands were already at her shirt, pulling it over her head. She barely felt him brush her back and suddenly her bra was undone, spilling her breasts into the chilled air. His warm hands cupped her firmly, thumbs brushing over her nipples. Jo shuddered, enjoying the contrast between the warmth of his hands and the cold of the room. It made every touch seem hotter. He squeezed hard enough to send joyful pain racing through her system and another whimper past her lips. His breath caught in response. “Those are some nice tits. Next time, we’ll put them to good use.” His hands slid lower, leaving her shivering. He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, “But for now, I want these off.”
His eyes followed her as she slid them down her legs. His hands had gone to his own jeans, releasing the hard-on straining against the cloth. Jo’s eyes trailed the length of that warm flesh where it nestled back against his stomach, already shiny with pre-come and, Christ, Sam is HUGE. Automatically, she leaned down to take him; wanting the taste, the feel of him in her mouth, wanting to see if she could take it all. Sam put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her as he laughed hoarsely. “Not right now. I want in, first.” He pulled her back to her feet and against him, trapping it between them. He kissed her again, holding her tightly until she began to make hungry noises for him and she couldn’t quite still her hips. Then he spun her around and bent her over the back of the couch, quickly grabbing both of her arms in one hand and holding them behind her. It was so much like earlier that she couldn’t help but fight just a little and cry out. Her struggles only made him harder, close to bursting. He had to finish this, but he couldn’t pass up this chance, it was too perfect. “I know this makes you think of the kitchen and Dean.” Jo was shocked into stillness. “But I’m gonna do what my brother wasn’t man enough to. I'm gonna fuck you, Jo, and I’m gonna fuck you hard. While you’re screaming and coming, you're gonna know, I’M the one doing this to you. I’M the one making you scream.”
Without any further warning, Sam pushed her panties aside and plunged deep into her, managing half his length before she clamped around him. Jo did scream and it wasn’t from pain. It felt too good to contain, driving all thought and breath out of her. As soon as she had caught her breath he shoved inside her again, forcing another scream from her as he buried himself in her fully. That seemed to satisfy him and he put his free hand on the small of her back as he settled into a faster, shallower rhythm, lightly smacking against her. His fingers gripped tight around her wrists, the other hand gripping into the flesh of her upper ass. “God, you’re wet. Practically fucking dripping, and it’s all from me, isn’t it, Jo? Isn’t it?” He punctuated his question with a harsh jerk on her arms.
“YES!” It was almost too much, too good.
“You’re gonna give it up for me again too. Give me everything I want, aren’t you?”
Sam’s other hand left the small of her back and tangled in her hair. He pulled her into a standing position as he continued to fuck up into her. The new angle was sharper, more intense; the length of him stabbing into her at raw angles, forcing pleasure-pain whimpers out her. Pulling her head to the side he bit into her throat, working over his mark. Jo let out a startled yell. Fuck, this was going to be the mother of all hickies. She realized then, that was what he wanted; to mark her visibly. Leave her with a sign of possession, letting her and everyone else know that he could own her. The thought made her shudder as a small orgasm crashed through her, making the world white-out for a moment.
“Fuck!” Sam released her throat and threw his own head back growling, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “You’re gonna let me do anything I want because for now, you are mine, every part of you. I’m gonna come wherever I want. Even if I want to stay in this nice, hot pussy; you’re gonna let me. I’ll bend you back over and come inside you, fill your pussy full.” Sam’s teeth closed lightly on the shell of her ear.
“Jesus Fuck.” His low chuckle sent a hot wind down her neck. “Anything, just please, don’t stop.”
Sam shoved her back down, still holding her hands captive behind her. His hand dropped her hair and curled hard around her hip as he lengthened his strokes, bottoming out with every thrust. She desperately wanted another sensation. To bite down on something, grab hold of something, thrash; but there was nothing she could do. Her hands were trapped, he was out of reach of her mouth and the only struggling she could do was to move her hips. She stopped begging but she couldn’t be quiet either. She couldn’t think past the sensation. Sounds were coming from her with words and fragments falling out because she couldn’t quite get the feeling into words and couldn’t stop the sounds from coming. “Christ! OH, God, I- oh. Fuck!” Sam filling her, her tits jolting, the back bar of the couch grinding against her clit with every thrust, even her inability to move added to it. She realized she was on the edge again already. “God, Sam! Close, so close, I just- almost.”
His rhythm faltered as he shuddered, “Beg me for it.” It was more like a growl than words. The command tightened her around him even more.
“Shit! Please, Sammy, Jesus, please. I- ohgod, Please Sam, please. Want it, need you.” She couldn’t make any more words, she was too close. Sam felt every word she had said and pounded into her as hard and fast as he could. She felt him lose control and it was enough. She came, screaming one ragged scream after another.
Sam dropped her hands and grabbed her hips tightly, holding her still as he slammed into her. The suddenness of his movements changed her screams and she braced herself against the couch. It was starting to be more pain than pleasure, which tightened her as much as she could. He faltered, crying out himself and emptied into her. A few more deep thrusts and he finished. Shaking, Sam leaned over and placed a strangely gentle kiss on her spine. Almost reluctantly, he slid out of her, leaving her empty and quivering, gasping at the sudden loss. He picked her up and carried her around to the front of the couch before dropping both of them on it and laying them down. She stared at the ceiling, sprawled on top of Sam, trying to relearn how to breathe, how to think. Another groan caught Jo’s attention. She looked up and into Dean’s face. He filled the doorway, where he had obviously been for some time, his hand quickly working his own cock. Her eyes traveled down in time to see his final spurt and the shudder that racked his body. She briefly wondered what part had affected him the most, her or Sam, but just at that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Of course Dean was there. She’d screamed loud enough that, had there been neighbors, they would have called the cops. He saw her watching him and dropped his eyes. She was surprised to find that he was embarrassed and maybe a little ashamed. Embarrassed at being caught; ashamed of enjoying it. He would have run if she hadn’t managed to call out to him first, “Dean, wait.”
It stopped him from leaving, but he didn’t offer any other response. He stood there, shoulders hunched, waiting for her to freak out and call him a pervert; it was written plainly on his face, he was expecting a fight. She was happy to find that her mind and motor skills weren’t completely shot and held her arms out, beckoning him to her. Sam shifted her more comfortably against him and she could feel his heart hammering against her back. Sam was afraid, too, watching his brother walk slowly toward them. So much could change, would change and it all depended on her. On what she did next, how she handled this little bit of voyeurism. Dean stopped next to the couch, looking past her to Sam, trying to find a clue in his brother’s face. Jo grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down, on top of her and Sam. “I’ve wanted you since I met you,” she whispered, “I don’t think I can stop.” She laid a gentle kiss on his neck and felt the tension flow out of him when he realized this wasn’t headed toward a fight. He snaked his arms under Sam, holding them all more tightly together. She almost couldn’t breathe for all the pressure and weight against her, but she didn’t care about that either. Surrounded by warm bodies, she felt safe and right. She turned her face to Dean, dragging her lips across his stubbled jaw as she sought his mouth. The kiss was careful. More a brushing of lips, a gentle promise, than anything passionate. She heard Sam’s breath hitch beneath her and then both boys ground into her. The way they mirrored each other was too much; her body clenched in anticipation and protested in pain. A moan escaped her and immediately the arms loosened and Dean started to pull away. She locked her arms around him to keep him from fleeing. “I’m not saying ‘no’ Dean.”
Dean finally met her eyes. Jo glanced back at Sam before answering Dean’s unspoken question, “I didn’t quite know what I was getting myself into and I don’t think my body could take anymore right now or I won’t be able to walk.” She kissed him again, nipping lightly at his lips, “But I do want this, I want you.”
Dean smiled at her, his eyes crinkling with dark humor. She’d always loved that smile. Mischievous and charming at the same time. “I could carry you?” he offered.
She laughed softly. Jo was mostly sure he was joking. “No. No. I think what I need now is food and a nap… or maybe coffee and aspirin.” Laughter rumbled through her body in stereo. Dean lifted off her slowly and this time she let him, trying not to wince when the weight disappeared. He kept smiling at her as he shifted himself and closed his pants. Which, she was sad to say, had been distracting her. Now if she could just get off of Sam gracefully.
To her surprise Dean lifted her up and cradled her in his arms, tucked carefully against his chest. “I said I’d carry you.” He gave Sam a moment to compose himself and carried Jo downstairs. Sam stood at Dean’s side as he laid Jo on her bed. “We’ll go get some breakfast and coffee and aspirin. You just lay here and rest.” They pulled on their boots and jackets and Sam stoked the fire while Dean placed a kiss on Jo’s forehead. His grin reminded her of the Cheshire Cat. “Then it’s my turn.” She could feel his gaze slide over her still mostly naked body before returning to her eyes. “Rest well, Jo.”
When the door closed behind them her whole body shuddered. What had she gotten herself into? Her endorphin high was fading, leaving her pained and exhausted. She drew the sheet over her, grateful for the warmth of the fire on her sweat chilled body. Despite the excited nervousness fluttering her stomach she dropped off to sleep quickly, slipping into dreams of hard bodies, hot mouths and too many hands.