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The hollow of Sam’s throat shone in the low light of the room; the skin was damp with sweat and flushed with arousal. His hair was splayed out on the pillow, soft chocolate locks sliding over the fabric as he tipped his head back with a groan. Beneath you both the bed frame groaned in response; Sam’s arms strained as he pulled against the restraints you’d wrapped around his wrists and the bedposts. From your seat on his stomach, Sam Winchester restrained was a wet dream made flesh.
Your mind flashed back to the conversation that had begun it all. Sam’s voice was tight and desperate as you played with him, teasing out his fantasies with your lips and tongue.
I want you to tie me up – fuck – and use one of my knives to tease me. Ahh. Fuck. I want… I want to feel powerless. Oh god. Want you to hurt me – ohgod – or at least know that you could. Ahh, don’t stop. Baby don’t stop. Gunna cum – fuck!
He’d come down your throat with a shout then, before tipping you over onto your back and eating you out until you had to beg him to stop. Just remembering the conversation made lust flash up your spine and now, with the visual of Sam splayed out under you – it was all you could do to remember your mission.
You reached off to the side and grabbed your chosen weapon for the evening. A simple silver knife, one of many the brothers kept around for monster killing. You held it up for Sam to see, watching as his pupils constricted to pinpricks and his breath caught in his throat. His eyes followed your hands as you tested the blade on your thumb, drawing a drop of blood that you instantly sucked away. Satisfied, you reached forwards and drew the flat of the blade down the side of Sam’s face, following the line of his cheekbone and then onto his mouth.
When the metal touched his skin Sam went utterly still beneath you. His eyes closed and he tipped his head back to offer you his throat. You weren’t ready for that yet though. You ran the point of the blade along Sam’s lower lip, watching his pulse jump in his throat. His nose flared as he breathed in shallow gasps. When you were done tracing his lip, you laid the end of the blade over Sam’s mouth, the point resting against his septum. You waited for Sam to open his eyes again before you spoke.
“Kiss it.” You kept your voice neutral, just a hint of command. This wasn’t about ordering Sam around and yelling at him. This was about him willingly giving himself to you and your wishes.
At your words Sam’s eyelids flickered, eyes showing white for just a second as he groaned deep in his chest. He pressed his lips to the silver as softly as he pressed them to your skin and you were the one to shiver this time. You were sure he must feel your wetness against his stomach, even though you had underwear on. Sam pulled his lips away from the blade, tongue slipping out at the last second to caress the point. Lightening ran down your spine, making your toes curl and your hips buck; seeking out any kind of friction.
“Good. So good for me.” Sam relaxed under your words, his eyes closing as his muscles eased. You lifted the blade from his lips and turned the edge towards his skin before ghosting it down his other cheekbone. You put no pressure on the metal, not wanting to cut Sam – not yet anyway, just wanting him to feel the edge. The blade was sharp, like all the blades the brothers had. And you wouldn’t have done Sam the disservice of using a dull knife. That would have ruined the experience for him. He wanted to feel in danger, to be able to trust that you could hurt him if you wanted to and he wouldn’t be able to stop you.
The touch of metal had Sam tensing up again, eyes open to watch your arm move.
“Is this what you wanted, hmm? Wanted to be mine? To do whatever I ask, even if you don’t like it because you know I can make you?” Sam’s eyes followed the movement of your arm as you drew patterns on his cheek with the point of the knife.
“You are mine now aren’t you, Sam? All tied up for me. I can do whatever I want with you can’t I? I could carve my name into your skin; make you bleed for me.” With those words, you took the knife from his face and moved to his chest. You ran the flat of the blade over his collarbones, first one side and then the other. Sam held his breath; keeping his chest as still as possible under your ministrations. Moving lower you tapped one nipple into a peak and then the other while Sam hissed and rocked his pelvis.
“Yeah, you like this don’t you? I could do anything now and you’d thank me for it.” You adjusted your grip on the blade and held it above his heart, point pressing the skin in the centre of his tattoo. “I should put my initials here, then everyone would know you’re mine.” Sam rocked his hips again, breathing out “Yes.”
“Oh, I think you like that idea Sam. Do you want me to mark you like that?” Sam had mostly melted into the bed again, body relaxed and loose, only the restless shift of his hips betraying his desire.
That changed when you whipped the knife up under his chin, tipping his head back with the force. The bedframe creaked again as Sam’s arms pulled against his bonds. He drew his legs up to plant his feet flat and his chest heaved with gasps. Wide eyes met yours from under hooded lids, pupils tiny within irises that looked black in the light, no sign of the blues, greens, and golds they normally held.
“Answer me, Sam.” Your tone was cold, no sign of the gentleness it held before. You moved the knife to catch a drop of sweat sliding down the side of Sam’s neck before pressing it into the hollow of his throat, point pushing the skin in. Sam swallowed, the movement lifting the skin under the knife. A drop of blood welled up against the point.
“So desperate to bleed for me. Answer me. With words this time. Do you want me to mark you? Put my name in this beautiful skin?”
His lips parted but no words came. A flash of pink as he ran his tongue over them before he tried again.
“Oh god. Yes. Please! Do it.” Sam didn’t break eye contact with you as he begged.
You smiled. “So good. Do what I tell you, beg so pretty for me to hurt you. So fucking good for me Sam.” Sam moaned at your praise, hips thrusting up.
“So, where should we write my name, hmm?” You tapped the point of the blade against your lips, leaving a smear of Sam’s blood there.
“Here?” You pressed the point back into the centre of Sam’s tattoo. He shifted his hips. “Hey! Keep still. This is not about you getting off.” Sam went still immediately. His arms and shoulders were pulled so taut you were just waiting for something to give. “No, if I break the tattoo and a demon gets in…”
You moved the knife lower, to the clear skin of his pec muscle under the tattoo. “Here maybe? It’s almost over your heart.” You ran the edge of the blade over the skin, tracing out your first initial. Sam was almost panting under you.
“What about the other side? Then you’d have matching tattoos.” You ran the knife over his skin to the other side of his chest, opposite the black tattoo. Sam moaned at the sensation but kept his hips pressed into the bed.
“So well behaved for me, Sam. I tell you to keep still and you’re so good for me.” Sam’s eyes closed at that, head tipping back to show you the line of blood down his throat.
“Please. Oh god please.” The words came out on a moan as Sam rolled his head from side to side, sending his hair wild.
“Hmm? Please what?” You lifted the knife from Sam’s chest as you cocked your head.
“Don’t care where you do it, just want to feel it. Fuck. I need it.” His eyes were still closed.
“Look at me.” Sam’s eyes were slow to open but they did. “That’s it. Tell me what you need.”
“Fuck.”
“C’mon Sam. Look at me and tell me what you need.”
“I need…” He swallowed. “Fuck I need you to cut me- mark me. I need to feel it. I need you to hurt me. Please. God please!”
“There we go. Well done.”
Floodgates opened; Sam couldn’t stop his stream of consciousness now.
“Fuck. Want your name on me, want you to put it there until it leaves a scar. Need to know I’m yours. I’m so fucking desperate to touch you. Want to just snap these cuffs and feel you under my hands. I won’t, I’m gonna be good. Want to be so fucking good for you. I don’t care where you cut me, just do it. God, please do it. It’s gonna feel so good. I need it. Please. Please!”
You pressed the knife into his lips, cutting him off.
“Shh. Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Doing so well for me. Gunna give you what you need. Love to hear you beg though. So pretty.”
You lifted onto your knees and moved back a little, before lowering yourself back onto Sam’s body, this time pressing your soaked core onto Sam’s cock and trapping it between your body and his. The action made Sam cry out and you couldn’t help rocking your hips into the hardness under you.
“Is this all for me Sam? This lovely hard cock all mine?” The friction felt amazing, the wet fabric of your underwear adding an extra layer of pleasure.
“Fuck! All for you, you make me feel so good. Ohhhh, please. Please please please.” Sam bucked his hips into you with every word.
“Shh. It’s okay. Calm down. Gunna make it all okay.” You ran your empty hand over his stomach, making the muscles jump. “This is what’s gunna happen, Sam. You’re gunna hold very very still for me while I give you what you need, right here,” you ran your hand over the top of his stomach, just below his ribs. Sensitive skin and you were hoping it would give Sam everything he needed. “Then you’re gunna help me cum all over this beautiful cock, then you can cum. Okay? You’re doing so well, being so wonderful for me.”
Sam bucked his hips one last time before forcing himself to still. He was watching you, eyes shifting between your face and the knife at your side.
“That’s it. Keep still now.”
You leaned forward, bracing one hand on Sam’s lower belly. The muscles under your palm were rock solid; the skin soft and warm.
You flicked your eyes up to Sam. “Ready?” He nodded with a jerk, no hesitation at all.
Eyes back down you drew the edge of the blade over Sam’s skin. Carefully you made the first cut, keeping an even pressure. The metal opened Sam’s skin in a shallow slit, not deep enough to bleed, but enough to leave a clear red line behind the blade.
Goosebumps rippled across Sam’s flesh and when you looked up, he had tipped his head back as far as he could, jaw tight and the cords of his neck standing out. Sweat had broken out at his temples and throat and you watched the droplets trail across his skin for a second.
“More.” The word came from between gritted teeth and held a desperate edge.
You looked back at your work to see small beads of blood now formed in the line you’d made. You bit your lip and lowered the knife again.
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By the time you were done Sam was making an utterly destroyed noise. Tears had formed tracks from his eyes into his hairline and he was trembling. But against your pussy his cock was like iron, kicking against you and making you gasp.
“Perfect Sam. Fucking perfect. Open your eyes and look now. You’re mine and now everyone will know.”
Slowly Sam lowered his head and opened his eyes again. He met your gaze before dropping to look at his stomach. Your name was spelt out in careful red lines against the tanned skin. You had to admit, you were proud of your handiwork and hoped it was what Sam wanted. Each line was precise and little dots of blood filled them. None spilt out though and Sam’s skin was clear around your mark.
Sam looked for only a moment before throwing his head back and bucking his hips up into you with a cry. As he thrust against you, working through the orgasm that had hit him from nowhere, you worked your hips with him on instinct, chasing your own end until you were crying out and soaking Sam with your cum.
When Sam was done, he finally went limp, arms hanging from the restraints instead of pulling against them. His eyes were closed and his face utterly relaxed. All the tension of the scene was drained out of him and he looked serene.
When your aftershocks were done you tipped yourself off Sam’s waist and onto the empty side of the bed. Taking just a second to catch your breath you then made sure the knife was safely off the bed and scooted up to the pillows.
Sam was breathing calmly for the first time all night and when you reached up to release his wrists he hummed in contentment. You spent a little time massaging each wrist and making sure there was no damage to the skin. Throughout Sam let out little sighs of pleasure and when you placed each hand on his chest, above the cuts, he cracked open one eye and looked up at you.
You brushed his hair away from his forehead with soft strokes.
“You okay sweetheart?”
Sam hummed at you, leaning his head into the hand that was now cupping his cheek.
“Words please.”
“Perfect. That was perfect.” His voice cracked a little and he swallowed with an audible noise.
“Water? Food?” You had everything he would need on the bedside table.
“In a minute. Let me just enjoy this.”
“Okay sweetheart. You can have a minute.”
You manoeuvred his head and upper body from the pillows and into your lap. Sam just pressed his cheek into your hand while you looked at his stomach. There was your name, for all the world to see that Sam Winchester belonged to you.