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Research. In a shitty motel room. While Dean is off doing God knows what. Or worse, God knows who. This is the life of Sam Winchester. But tonight something is going to happen to Sam. Something he doesn't expect.

He's about to get a visitor. There's a knock at the door. Sam heaves a sigh and slams the clamshell of his laptop closed. He makes it to the knob in a few long strides. His disappointment is apparent when he opens the door and sees her standing there.

"Hey, Sam," she says in her haughty accent. She walks past him into the room without invitation. That's how she is. She takes. Whatever she wants. He stares after her, watching her take in the cheap furnishings. The cheeky Brit's audacity is unsurprising. Yet, as the door snicks closed and he faces her, he shakes his head at her bold behavior.


"Bela," he answers, his hands resting on his hips. "I didn't think there was a chance in hell you'd show up." "Well," she tells him, looking up into his hazel eyes. "I'm full of surprises." She moves closer, her hands on the belt of her trench coat.

"Though truthfully, you want to know why I'm here?" Sam takes a step back, trying to maintain some form of distance between them. Bela Talbot was nothing but trouble. If she was here, she wanted something.and the only way he could keep it from her was to figure out what it was before she fleeced him. In effort to buy time, he says, "Okay." Bela continues to advance on Sam, backing him almost into the corner of the room. She tugs her coat open.

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"Because of you." she says, her eyes wide as she stares up at him. She forces her shoulders back to slip the garment off, revealing a satin and lace nightie. He pries his eyes from her, looking up and away.

"Uh," he stammers. "What're you doin'?" Reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear, her voice slightly husky with desire, she tells him, "I can't stop thinking about you." Confusion muddies his handsome features and he mumbles, "What?" Her eyes search his and, rather than answer, she stretches up on her toes and kisses him. It's soft and almost druggingly slow.

He puts his hands on her arms intent on pushing away, but something ignites within him as her tongue skims over his lower lip. He takes a deep breath. "Are you sure?" Bela doesn't answer. She's far too eager to get back to the heat of Sam's mouth. To feel it pressing against hers and gliding over other parts of her body. So, she takes what she wants. She kisses him again. Her tongue delves into the velvety recesses of his mouth and he sighs, stumbling back toward the bed as he cradles her in his arms.

His knees hit the mattress and he falls with Bela on top of him. It's nice. Very nice. The curves of her body are soft and they press deliciously into the hard planes of his own. His fingers thread into the softness of her hair and his tongue plunders her mouth. He's stunned by how hungry he is for this. How out of control she makes him.

Delicate fingers pluck at the buttons on his shirt and he rolls her beneath him. She melts into the mattress, her lips sucking and tugging at his as she struggles to rid him of the flannel and cotton that separate them.

"Sam," she moans breathlessly, pulling his shirt up his back as his hand curls around the strap of her negligée. She arches beneath him as he exposes the creamy flesh of one of her breasts. He palms it, his mouth scorching across her naked skin to its dusty-rose colored crown. It pebbles and grows stiff beneath his tongue as his hand skates up her thigh. "Sam." This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream. Any minute now Dean would call his name and he'd find himself drooling over the keyboard.

But it didn't feel like a dream. Bela's mouth is firm, yet pliant beneath his. His jeans grow tighter as he feels her hands slip under his shirt again to smooth up his back. She's soft and warm. And even though he'd thought she was more interested in his brother, she's with him. She wants him. Her tongue dances over his neck to his earlobe. "Sam," she whimpers pleadingly. "Take me." He can't help but chuckle. Bela begging. That was rich.

He decides to up the ante. To drive her wild for a little bit longer before giving them both release. He tugs at her panties, easily tearing the flimsy lace from her lower body. "Oh, Sam!" she cries out. Her eyes fall closed as he tests her with long, thick fingers. He caresses and pets her, his thumb working over her sweet spot as his pointer and middle fingers curl and coax within her.

She bucks against his hand and he grins against her mouth. He allows her to drag his shirt and undershirt over his head, moaning as her mouth and hands explore his chest.

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She surprises him, forcing him onto his back and straddling him. Her hands make quick work of removing his belt. "Bela." Sitting up, he lowers the other strap from her shoulder.

She gasps as his lips attack her newly bared nipple. Big rough hands fondle her breasts before grinding her hips against his. "Sam," she cries out. "Sam, Sam Sam." He shifts her back to the mattress, leaving her squirming as he rids himself of his remaining clothes and dons protection. She's on her knees in the center of the bed when he turns back to her.

He watches as she pulls the lingerie off, her hair swishing softly against her back as it clears the neckline. Placing a knee on the bed, he approaches her. His hands brush over her shoulders and he kisses her again. Deep, hot and wet. His intention is unmistakable and she matches the motion of his tongue and the touch of his hands stroke for stroke.

"Dean would've fucked me by now," she torments. He looks at her, studying her face before nuzzling his way to her ear. He tucks her hair back, his tongue flickering along the shell before suckling at her lobe. "I thought you wanted me," he says darkly. "I." she begins, distracted by the warmth of his breath at her throat. He draws her down until he lays over her. "Don't mention my brother's name when you're in bed with me," he commands.

"Am I clear?" Her eyes are wide and glazed with lust. She bites her lip and looks almost shy. "Crystal." He aligns their bodies, entering her slowly.

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He holds her still, preventing her from taking control. He restrains himself, unwilling to make it quick. If she came here expecting a hot, meaningless fuck, she came to the wrong brother.

When he released her - when he let her out of his bed - Dean would be the last thing on her mind. "How does that feel, Bela?" he asks, stroking against her - into her - as he hitches a long, muscular leg around his waist.

Rather than answer, she tries to shift and increase the friction. Sam laughs throatily, pinning her hips to the mattress. Bela whimpers in protest. He soothes her with a kiss, his tongue ghosting teasingly against hers. When she angles for more he backs off, giving her a deep pump that makes her arc into him.

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"Talk to me," he demands. "Tell me what you feel. What you want to feel." She clutches him, her nails digging at his back. He can feel her stubborn resistance, knows she thinks she can turn the tables on him. That she can make him losecontrol and screw her silly. Her body is wicked and sinful in the way it cradles his and wraps around him.

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He moves slowly, almost gingerly. His teeth scrape over her shoulder and she moans, pushing against him. He's learned something. It appears Bela likes things a little rough. His next move is deep and quick. "Sam!" she screams. Reaching up she pulls his mouth down for a kiss that's filled with desperation and need. He wants to break her. He wants to do it because she's caused them plenty of problems. But he also wants to hear her beg again. He breathes in the scent of her expensive perfume.

In and out. In and out.


Nice and slow. Building up. Feeling the pressure coiling within her. "God, Sam." she whines meekly. "Please." He smirks. "Please what?" he prods. It's slower now. He can feel the sheen of sweat on his back. He laps up a few tiny beads from her forehead. He finds her dark eyes with his. "Please what, Bela?" She grips his forearms.

"Please, Sam," she husks. "More." "Mmm," he teases, picking up the pace just slightly. "More of this?" he asks, things leisurely and casual. He watches her eyes widen and close, sees the way she nibbles at her lower lip. He can see she's getting close and he wants to watch her splinter. She moans when his mouth collides with her neck. He sucks at her pulse point, leaving what he's knows will be a mark.


He wants her to remember this moment later, long after she's left his bed. "Look at me, Bela," he instructs. "Open. Your. Eyes." And she does.

For a moment.

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Gasping in pleasure, he watches as they fall closed with the deep, rough thrust he gives her. He goes back to the slow, tender pace and waits for them to fly open. When they do, they're dark. So dark. Her pupils are dilated. The struggle it takes for her to keep them on his face makes him drunk with power.

He knows he's got her. He can feel her body throbbing around his length. Suddenly, he's beneath her. She's caught him off guard and rides him. He grabs for her waist wanting to wrest control from her, but she takes his wrists and forces them into the pillow over his head. He grins. He doesn't have to let her do this.

He's far stronger than she is. But the feel of her breasts, full and heavy, as they brush against the wall of his chest is enticing. It excites him. He decides to let her have her way. For now. Bela braces herself against Sam's shoulders. She pushes herself back into him, feeling her toes curl as her hair tumbles over her shoulder in a silky curtain.

"Do you like this, Sam?" she taunts. "Do you like a good, slow grind?" He tangles his fingers in the silk-spun strands that brush his cheek, pushing it back. He surges up, pulling her down onto his thrust. "Mmm," he hums against her mouth. "I asked you first." Sitting up, he strums his hands down her back.

He guides her hips to his, creating a delectable friction that makes her shudder. He wraps his hand in her hair, tugging her head back to expose her throat. "But I think I know what you like," he tells her. Deep and hard, he drives into her. She gasps and moans, writhing in his lap. She looks at him through the haze of her orgasm, licking her lips as she touches his face. His name escapes her parted lips as she throws her head back, "Sam." He relishes in every pant and moan, each tiny movement of her hips as she tries to extend her high.

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He startles her by lifting her away and setting her beside him. Bela has hardly caught her breath when Sam is behind her. Her body, hot and slick, contracts around his. She cries out as he wraps his arm around her waist. His fingers draw circles and it's almost too much. The pleasure he gives her is so intense she can hardly breathe.

"Oh, God." He sets a quick pace. Sliding against her - into her - with renewed passion and vigor. He admires the curve of her hip and the way it flares to her bottom.

He pushes her body to it's limit, tumbling her again and again into ecstasy. She moans, whimpering as she shakes beneath him. "Sam," she pants. "I can't." Struggling, she casts a glance over her shoulder. "Too much." Sam pulls away, but only enough to roll Bela onto her back. He kisses her, searching her lips and mouth with his tongue. He waits for her.

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Waits for her to come back down. Waits for her to wrap her legs around him, urging him on. Because she does. She curls her limbs around his waist, daring him to finish what he started. She cedes control, looking into his eyes. "Oh.Sam." Sam's body throbs from the strain of holding back.

He aches to let go, to tumble into the abyss. The satiny way Bela wraps around him - the feel of her body pulling him in - is nearly his undoing. She purrs, moaning against his lips as he adopts a relentless speed.

Once, twice, three times and he feels like he's flying. "Bela." With a crash, Sam jolts awake and finds himself on the floor next to the bed. His arms are wrapped around a pillow. He gulps. It felt so real. Right down to the. "Dude," Dean's voice comes from over his shoulder. Looking up, Sam sees his older brother's furrowed brow. "You were making some serious yummy noises." Sam frowns and growls, "Dean." "Bela? Seriously?" Dean asks wrinkling his nose, his eyes going wide. "We really need to get you laid."