Love Your Heat

Summary: Dean is quickly learning that Castiel is one kinky son of a bitch.

Rating: NC-17 (Explicit)

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Word Count: 2215

Warnings/Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega!verse, knotting, BDSM, PWP, d/s, dom!Cas, sub!Dean, whipping/flogging, Daddy!kink, Dirty Talk

Notes: - English spellings (e.g. colour rather than color)

- Suspension cuffs, a bar gag and ropes. Yep. Don't read on if you can't handle it.

~

Castiel was a kinky son of a bitch.

Absurdly, the realisation occurred to Dean just seconds after his wrists had been slipped into the suspension cuffs hooked onto the bed stead. You'd have thought it would've come before that - maybe when his ankles had been bound either side of the bed by thick white rope, or when he was pressed stomach down into the mattress by a burning pair of hands - hell, maybe when Cas had suggested it in the first place.

But no. The realisation hit him when he was tied to a bed, stiff cock trapped between his stomach and the bed sheets and squirming in the throes of his heat.

Yeah, he wasn't always the sharpest tool in the box.

"Such a good boy for me, Dean..."

Heat pooled in Dean's gut, muffled moan wrapping around the bar in his mouth when he felt the teasing slide of leather smoothing down the back of his thigh, slick dripping down between his thighs and onto the mattress below. They'd barely been doing this for more than twenty minutes and Dean was already a begging mess - begging for Cas to fuck him, begging for some kind of touch at least. For the relief of the alpha's knot to fill him up and fuck him dry. But Cas was painfully absent, the only thing even betraying his presence being the flogger now trailing between Dean's forcibly spread legs, strips of leather teasing his balls, making him thrash wildly against his restraints, precum dripping onto the bed. Sweat was pooling at the base of his spine, dry throat trying in vain to conjure up moisture.

He tried to beg. Like he knew Cas wanted him to. Wanted him to whine and moan like Cas' good little omega bitch so the alpha would reward him with the drag of skin or a nip of teeth. But all that managed to tear its way out of his throat was an inhuman sound that vaguely resembled a moan of pleasure. He felt tears beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes, body screaming for release. He needed it so fucking badly - it was more important than air at the moment, and Dean couldn't care less.

The flogger was tugged sharply away from his skin and he yanked his protest on his cuffs, whining through the bit in his mouth like an animal at the loss of contact.

"Would you like this, hm?" the leather strips flicked against Dean's calf, and the omega's flesh raised in angry red streaks in response, "Would you like this to tan your backside so raw that you'll feel it for weeks, Dean?"

Dean could've wept at how deliberate Cas was being. Treading around what Dean really wanted, pulling him taut like a violin string and making his skin tremble with anticipation and causing fire to lick over him. He wanted it - God did he want it, want Cas fucking into him so hard that his eyes rolled and he forgot what his name was, want his knot, hot and swollen with come trapped inside of him. The leather snapped again, more harshly this time, and Dean's body jolted, yelping as the pain hit home.

"Answer me."

Words were beyond him, he knew, so he settled for crying out around the bar, head dipping between his shoulders in a desperate nod, hoping with every nerve that Cas would like what he heard because Dean sure as hell couldn't give anything else. He was laid bare - he'd given everything he could and then some, riding on the crest of his heat. There wasn't anything left to give.