[Dean moaned shamelessly each time he felt teeth on his skin. He alternated wiggling into the mattress and arching his back up against Sam. He shuddered, fisting his hands into the sheets underneath him.]

[It took him a second to parse Sam's words. God, there were so many things he wanted.] Sammy, please. Want more. Gimmie your hands, your teeth. Anything you want. You can have it.