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“Beautiful,” Michael murmurs, stolen eyes dimming back to emerald as they rake over her limp form. She’s only in her night shirt and panties, back against the wall. He’d come for her in the dead of night, alone in her motel room. He smirks at the memory, how she’d come this far just to find him, to save Dean. “Just look at you now,” he says, like she can understand, like she’s aware.

The Archangel brings a hand up to tuck a chunk of hair behind her ear, lets an index finger trace the smooth line of her jaw. “My perfect little…what’s the term? Fuck…toy?” He wets his full lips. “It’s a shame Dean can’t be here to see this. I think he might…appreciate it. Oh well.”

He takes a step back, tips his head to the side to admire his work, to admire her.

“Lay down on the bed,” he commands, “and spread those pretty legs for me.”

“Yes, Master,” she mumbles, robotic feet carrying her to the ordered destination.

Michael feels the thrill at her obedience, watches with pride as she climbs atop the mattress and leans against the headboard. She plants her feet flat on the blankets and spreads her knees, lets her hands rest against her thighs.

He takes a seat to her side and smiles flat. “Take your panties off.”

“Yes, Master.”

Michael watches as she hooks her thumbs underneath the faded pink elastic and pulls, lifting her hips to peel them down her legs before letting them drop to the beige carpet.

She assumes her previous position; knees wide, palms gentle on her thighs. Michael hums in approval, malachite gaze slipping down to the glistening flesh between her legs.

He leans forward, drags a thick finger through her slick folds and studies the shine on his skin.

“I see what Dean sees in you,” he mumbles. He dips his wet finger in his mouth, tongue swirling over the taste of her. He lets out a soft groan. “You are…delectable. Lay down for me.”

“Yes, Master.” The bed creaks under her weight, and Michael is patient as she settles to her back, head denting into the pillow, blank stare cast to the ceiling.

“Good girl.”

The mattress groans as Michael shifts over it, kneeing his way between the wide V of her thighs.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he says, hands falling to the  expensive leather of his belt.

His cock is fat in his fist as he works it out of his slacks, and he shudders at the feeling when he rubs the tip through the warm slick of her.

“Oh yes,” he says, marveling at the way his thickness disappears inside her when he pushes forward.

“I’m going to enjoy you.”