Dean's POV
I wasn't going to fight it.
Not anymore.
Not when her lips were so damn soft. Not when her body was wrapped around me, her heat pressing into my skin, her scent flooding my lungs like an aphrodisiac.
I groaned, deep and guttural, gripping her thighs tighter as she rolled her hips against me, her naked body grinding over my hardness.
Fuck.
I slammed her against the nearest wall, my breath ragged as I stared into those black, sinful eyes. They were devouring me.
And I wanted to be devoured.
Her nails raked down my back, sharp enough to sting but not break skin. I hissed through my teeth, my control slipping further.
"You're fighting it, Dean," she purred, her fingers tangling in my hair as she tilted my head back, her lips grazing over my throat.
I shuddered.
"You don't want to fight, do you?" she teased, grinding against me.
I growled, my fangs elongating, my entire body coiling with tension.
She was playing with fire.
I was fire.
