Dean Winchester

Encouraged by the sounds she made, the way she moved with him, Dean picked up the pace, nosing her head to the side so he could get at her throat. It was a gorgeous throat, unusually long and graceful. It was something Dean might notice when he was sober and not distracted by other things, like the way her bare toes felt against his calf. "Wrap your legs around me," he murmured, sucking on the tendon beneath his lips as her heat took him in yet again.