Untitled Supernatural Fan-Fic Excerpt

Excerpt...



         ...Swinging the bat with as much force as he could manage with a dislocated shoulder, Sam busted the demon whore in the mouth.



         "Sonofabitch! You bled me!" She touched her fingers to her swelling, bleeding lips and a devilish grin crossed her face, "Kiss me, Sam..." she taunted, "what's it been; 2 years? You know you miss it... The power... The warm sting of it sliding down your throat..."



         She smirked, "Or does your precious control mean that much to you?"



         Sam twitched. The smell of Ember alone was overwhelming. The sight of her blood snaking down her neck threatened to push him over the edge. Before he could get his head straight, she lunged at him. She was too quick for Sam to dodge, slicing into his bicep with a switch-blade. She giggled.

          "Awe, you really should have that looked at," she said, "might need stitches."

         Sam caught her by the arms and slammed her against the wall.

         "Oooh, I like it rough!" She crooned.

         "Shut. Up." Sam hissed into her ear. His face buried in her hair, he fought not to give in to his desire. Where's Dean when you need him? He thought. "Since when does a demon need a switch-blade?" He asked, squeezing Ember's arms tighter, as if it might help him focus on something other than the intense drive to suck the blood from her lips.

         "Who said I need it? I'm a demon, remember?" She retorted, "And ow... That hurts. Do you mind?"

         Frustration driving him damn near insane, Sam slammed her into the wall again, paint and plaster raining down around their feet as it cracked and crumbled. His shoulder spasmed from the exertion. Ember's eyes went wide and she was truly frightened. She hadn't meant for thing's to go this far. Honestly, she'd only wanted to talk to him... and with him this close to her, her brain couldn't seem to pick an emotion; fear or arousal. This was far from what she'd had in mind.

         Fear's a good sign, Sam thought. He felt the smile creep over his face and knew it was a dark one. The kind of expression that would have made Dean pull the trigger not so long ago when they both thought Sam would go dark side - and maybe it could still happen. His heart thudded in his chest with the powerful need to taste her, by the memory of the extacy he knew the blood pumping through her veins could bring.

         Sam brushed his shaking hands over her arms and shoulders and into her hair. Ember's eyes fluttered closed and her pulse sped, making the call of her blood that much more enticing. What have I done? she thought, Stupid, Ember. So stupid! "You don't have to do this, Sam," she said, "You can just-

         Sam growled. He made fists in Ember's hair, pulling tight, cutting her off. She gasped, her head jerking back. Sam turned her face to his, controlling her movements with his own. He had her head and her lower body pinned, but her arms were free. She still had her knife in her hand. Ember could have stabbed him at any time. Hell, she could've thrown him across the room with just a flick of her wrist. If she'd wanted to. She didn't want to. She wanted Sam right where he was, pressed against her. For the first time in a long time, she regretted that she was a demon.

         Sam pressed his lips to hers, forcing her mouth open. The moment her blood touched his tongue his body reacted, tightening the front of his jeans and his grip on her hair. The entirety of Sam's body tingled as though he'd sucked a liquid live-wire into his nervous system. For a moment, he wondered what the big deal was. How could something that felt so... amazing be wrong? Lucifer had been locked in his cage for the better part of 2 years and Hell had no big plans for him. There was nothing to keep him from this or to prove to him it was wrong.

         As soon as he thought it, he knew he was wrong. Because there was Dean. What would Dean think? And what about Bobby? Sam broke from the kiss and fell to the ground, his knees thudding on the hardwood floor. His head rested on Ember's legs, he stared at the ground. His eyes were hot with unshed tears, his throat tight. After all this time he spent recovered - at least, recovered enough to be mostly unaffected by demon blood, how could he just give in? What was he thinking? Dean would never forgive this... Or even trust him again. How could I let this happen?