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“We can live with it,” Dean told her as he slowly brought her back up, “because we learned how to compartmentalize. We do all we can do, and then we wait until we can do more. Now, for tonight, we’ve done all we can. It’s time to put it away. At least for a while.”
“Okay.” Kimberly nodded, not fighting, but he could tell she still had residual adrenalin firing through her system, keeping her on alert. “But I know about that place. Doesn’t that count for something? Isn’t that enough, that she’d been there?”
“We wanna hear all about it,” Sam told her emphatically. “We will want to hear everything she told you about that place in minute detail. But it won’t be enough for a warrant. It’ll be another piece to our puzzle, but nothing urgent. You’re on overload, sweetheart. You gotta bring it down for a few now.”
Kimberly pulled away from them slightly, slicked her hair back, and then held her hands over her face for a long, silent moment. They let her collect herself.
When she brought her hands down, Dean had been expecting to find her calm and serene. He expected that she’d taken that quiet moment to reconcile herself with their situation and allow her anger and frustration to dissolve.
Kimberly had other plans apparently.
“I have all this—” Her hands made claws toward her chest. “—this, this feeling inside me, and it’s huge, and it’s angry, and it wants to scream and hurt and hit and cry and… and I just need to…. God, Sam? Dean, please? I-I… need—”
Sam and Dean moved as one. They knew what she needed.
Sam grabbed her by the face and cut off her frantic words with his kiss. She struggled, so he fisted his hands in her wet hair and held her still for him. Dean manacled her wrists behind her back, held her tight when she tried to resist. Her slippery body wasn’t easy to control as she began to struggle in earnest. Sam broke away from the kiss, looking down at her with fire in his eyes.
“What’s your safe word, sub?” he asked her as she gasped and strained.
“Brat,” Kimberly spat at him.
“Brat,Sir.” Sam smiled a particularly mean grin and gave her hair a sharp tug.
“The fuck?” Kimberly squeaked and made Dean chuckle.
“Wrong answer, sub,” he said into her ear. She tried to jerk out of their grasp, and Sam tsked. Dean pulled her wet, naked back to his front by her still-pinned arms. “Now you’re just making things worse for yourself by fighting.”
Quick as a badger, she turned one hand in his grasp and sank her nails into his inner thigh.
“It’s the only answer you get,” she snarled at them.
Fucking hell, this woman!Thank God she hadn’t gone for the balls.
“Somehow,” Sammy said, reaching above him for one of the removable showerheads, “I knew you were going to like that.”
The waterfall fell at Dean’s back. The two other heads came in from the sides and sprayed them from the waist down, and Sam reached over and turned those two off. Then he turned on the one he was holding. He felt Kimberly stiffen against him, trying to sink her nails in again. Dean cursed, bracketed both her wrists in one of his hands, and reached blindly up with his free hand for one of the restraints hanging from the ceiling.
As soon as Kimberly caught on, she began to fight with surprising strength. Trying to hold onto her without hurting her, especially with them both wet and slippery from her shampoo, made the task nearly impossible. She managed to get out of his hold and turned to shove at him.
“Need a hand there, buddy?” Sam sounded amused.
“Nah, just give… me… one… second.” Dean grappled with Kimberly. The energy pumping off her demanded to be met with equal force. So, Dean met fire with fire. With a menacing snarl that widened her eyes, he circled her throat with his hand and backed her under the overhead spray to the back wall. She stood there, sputtering and shooting daggers at him with her eyes, hair plastered to her face as water cascaded down her naked form. He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
Dean laid his mouth on hers and poured his soul into her. His tongue plunged into her mouth to devour, to conquer, to claim her as his, and Kimberly knew it. He felt her swallow convulsively under his grip, the working of her delicate throat feeling like a tiny bird caught in his palm. He squeezed, just enough to make her moan, and the sound sang in his ears like music.
“Behave, brat,” Dean said against her lips and gave her throat another press of his fingers. Her pulse rabbited, and her eyes narrowed, but she quit actively fighting, so Dean brought her back from behind the waterfall, where Sam was waiting. It took less than thirty seconds for Dean to get both Kimberly’s hands secured to the bar above her head. The sleek silver bar stretched across the entire stall in an endless serpent. The restraints hanging from it were not only adjustable, but they were also on rollers that could move anywhere within the shower and lock in place when they chose.
Dean locked her in place. He didn’t stop with her arms either, sliding another restraint a little farther down. He slipped a silicone band around one thigh just above her knee, then lifted that leg—high. Sam stood admiring Dean’s handiwork the whole time and randomly hitting Kimberly with a spray here or there to keep her warm, then switched the nozzle and aimed a hard surprising blast of hot or icy-cold on a nipple or between her thighs. She was panting by the time Dean was done.
“In the woods,” Sam told her, standing close to run the water in a fat, hot current over her whole form, “we made you come when you didn’t want to anymore.”
“Now, the rules have flipped,” Dean took over as he came to stand in front of her too. “Now, we want you to hold out as long as you can. In fact, you have to say please first.”
She actually snorted at them. He could practically see the words “fat chance” fighting to get past her lips.
“If you mess up and defy us, Kimberly,” Sam warned, “we’ll only make you hold out that much longer for the next round.”
Her narrowed, rebellious eyes widened. “Next round?” she demanded.
