From "During the Course of Ruling Hell"

FYI: If you HAVNE'T read During the Course of Ruling Hell, you should probably be able to get by if you ignore the little allusions to the plot. If you want to HERE IT IS:

s/10474567/1/During-the-Course-of-Ruling-Hell

Chapter 18: Author's Cut

He put up his hand. "You want to…build and command Hell with me?"

"Well…yeah."

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at me, a smirk rising across his face, he stepped closer to me and put his hands on my upper arms, "I tell you that there is no place for the ghosts to go and you respond by asking me if I am interested in stealing souls from the ignorance of heaven, making an army, and creating Hell in my image." He was breathing rather hard and his eyes were boring straight into mine.

I caught his fire, leaning forward, a toothy, ravenous smile carving across my face, "Yeah, Crow, I do."

He was towering over me a bit now, hands trailing up and down my arms like he couldn't quite believe what was right in front of him, "You know, Kitten, when we first met I thought you would be nice to keep around, after all, you could kill Hellions. But I sort of assumed you had survived because of a fluke. Why would I give up the last woman on earth, but, darling," he said 'darling' with a rapturous sort of groan, "You survived because you're magnificent." When he said magnificent he was all predatory teeth, looming above me.

I bared my teeth at him, gripping his hips, firm and commanding where his touch was teasing and delicate, and I hissed in a low breath, "Don't you forget it."

That shirtless boy had given me shivers but Crowley sent my blood pounding and powerful through my veins. Made my stomach stiffen. Made me light headed. We remained poised there, teeth bared at each other for a prolonged moment. He blinked and took a half step away from me, looking uncertain.

I growled and seized him by the front of his shirt, pulling him toward me. Entirely unproficient in what I was doing, but drunk on how it felt, I pushed my lips against his. He responded immediately. He gripped me, a hand fiercely in my hair, the other possessively on my hip. He pushed me roughly against the river bank's lone tree. There was a drumming coursing through my body that I was unfamiliar with, but hell if I wasn't excited to become familiar with it.

I was unsure of what I was supposed to be doing, so I gave up to instinct and raked my nails down his sides, under is shirt. He let out an inhuman snarl that sent fire lashing throughout my body.

He was kissing me like an attack. His tongue lashing through my mouth, it burned like fire. His short cut beard tore at my skin. His hands had left my hip and hair and were busy trying to get me out of my shirt. In a rush, still not entirely able to put the pulsing urges into words, it became too oppressive to have my hands awkwardly under his shirt. Following his lead, but without his precision, I snagged and tore at his shirt, desperate for the flesh beneath it.

There was violence in it, in all of it. A release. For Crowley, I thought, the release of jubilation and excitement I had brought on. I lashed out my anger at Ethan's death, at the everyone's death, at dad's death. All of the terrible wrath that had built itself inside of me thrashed itself out as I clawed and bit at Crowley. Who not only took it all, but enjoyed it.

He pulled my shirt from me and laughed between his teeth as I continued to struggle with his.

I growled darkly, "Get this damn thing off or I'll rip it in half."

He acquiesced, pulling off his shirt and dropping it to the ground. I had seen him shirtless, hell, he had seen me shirtless. We hadn't been the pinnacle of puritanical modesty while we had been the last two people on the planet, but this was so much different. I wasn't waiting to see how ridiculous he would look in a leather jacket, I wanted to devour him alive.

I moved forward, still allowing my instinct to guide me, I wanted to know what he tasted like. I seized his hips harshly and dragged him toward me, biting and sucking at the skin of his neck and collar bone. His breath was harsh and he snarled a litany of expletives.

He ripped my head back by the hair and slammed me, once more against the tree. With no shirt for protection, the bark raked into my skin. He pinned my wrists above my head with his hands then, manic smirk millimeters from my face but, agonizingly, not touching it, he maneuvered to hold both of my wrists in one hand. He tightened the other into a rigid claw and slowly dragged it down the soft flesh of my inner arm all the way down my torso to my stomach.

He lowered his mouth to my neck and right in the spots I was most tender, bit down hard. At the same moment he lifted his hand to my breast and twisted my nipple harshly. I threw my head back and howled. These were sensations I didn't know my body could produce. His laughter was low and vibrated against my skin. He kissed and bit downwards until he could replace his hand with his lips and teeth, tugging and pulling and sucking. I arched against him, straining against his hands that held me so firmly in place.

I was torn between the burning desire to touch every inch of him and how much it made my body pulsate to be held down by the King of Fucking Hell.

My whole body was shaking, "Crow – Crowley!" my voice was hoarse.

He raised his head and placed it carefully next to my ear so his breath burnt across it, "If you liked that, kitten, you just wait." His voice was low and predatory. I shuddered.

Finally, achingly, he kissed me again, I pressed my tongue fiercely back against his, learning quickly by imitation. His free hand had moved decisively down to the waistband of my pants and he was deftly removing them.

He was moving slowly now, sinuously. It wasn't fervent as it had been moments before. He let his dark eyes bear into mine without blinking and slid his hand down between my legs, now unfettered by pants. I held myself still, trying to control my breath. Hands still held above my head, his motions so determined and deliberate and those eyes ripping into me dark and terrible.

His fingers delved inside of me and I shifted. It felt good, but such a different kind of good. Less purely intense and more fulfilling. He pulled his fingers out and I groaned, he smirked.

"Oh, darling, aren't you exquisite." He purred at me.

He rubbed up my folds and suddenly came to a spot that lit me ablaze. I screamed and thrashed. He swirled his fingers around it and pinched it. My stomach was clenching and unclenching without my command, my legs were shaking. I arched and twisted. His fingers continued their ministrations. There was power and fire churning in my abdomen; I could feel it licking out to my extremities.

He started whispering in my ear, "My sweetling, you are more delectable like this than I had even imagined. And I've imagined it quite a lot. Oh, kitten, don't stop growling my name like that. By the fires of hell you're a wonder." And on, rapturously into my ear.

I felt on the peak of sensation, "Crow," I groaned, trying to force more leverage down onto his hand, "Hell! Crow!" I clamped my teeth together and he treated me to a final twist of his fingers and I plummeted into the chasm. Electricity arced across my nerves and my entire body bowed. I let out a bloodcurdling roar. Stars danced in front of m eyes.

As the feelings subsided my vision cleared. I was breathing heavily. Crowley released my hands and I let them fall. Body quaking.

"My god, Crow," I breathed raspilly.

He nuzzled my neck, nipping at it gently, "Oh, Bobs, we're not done yet."

I shoved him backwards and, kicking out at one of his ankles, dropped him, ungracefully to the sandy ground. "I should think not." I kneeled over him and unhooked his pants, pulling them off of him with a flourish.

He didn't stay submissive for long. In retribution for my tripping him, he flipped me over and ground me into the dirt. I was thankful, not having the experience to adequately take the lead.

He laughed, "Winchester, you are insatiable." His eyes gleamed darkly.

I shoved his chest, "Stop calling me that."

He ground his pelvis down against mine, rubbing where his fingers had left off before. He hissed, "Make me."

I considered hitting him again, but was beginning to think that there were vastly more entertaining ways of cajoling him.

Experimentally, I rolled my hips upward, hooking a leg around him and grinding my body against his. He groaned low in his throat but I did him one better. I arced my back deeply, head tilting back on the ground. I opened my mouth slightly and murmured, "Crrooooowleeeey."

He smiled at me and bit alone my jawline, aggressively pushing against my skin with his sharp beard. "Oh," he moaned as though enthralled, I smirked in triumph and he turned to whisper, "Is that the best you can do, Winchester?"

Enraged and thrumming with excitement at the challenge, I twisted, forcing him again to his back. I hovered over him. Carefully so as not to spoil it, I pushed myself down across him. So his member was trapped between our bodies. I curled my hips in a slow circle, taking the opportunity to move to it felt precisely perfectly. I scraped my nails down his chest and groaned.

His hands gripped my hips harshly and he dragged me down harder, face twisting in frustration and desire. At my own pace I pulled back achingly slowly,I ground myself against him, rolling my back in a curve until my breasts were displayed prominenty. In a sudden burst of inspiration, as I ground against him in that beautiful spot. I let my eyes flutter and lowed, in a soft, slow alto, "aaaah, my King."

He reared like a lion, howling viciously and slamming me against the ground so hard I saw stars. In a single sure move he pushed his way inside of me. There was a moment of pain, unwelcome, unlike the tearing pain of before. He stopped momentarily than moved with the same surety as before, but slower. His eyes were still dark and taunting, but moving carefully over my face.

I gave him an edgy smirk and intoned, "Gotcha."

His face contorted and he moved with more vigor. This sensation was magnificence. I curled my legs around him and increased the pace myself. I lifted my head and bit him hard on the shoulder. He thundered and bucked hard against me, losing his rhythm in favor of unruly assaults. His hands were claws in my sides, tearing my flesh. I combed my fingers through his hair and pulled it back roughly. I could feel myself being driven again toward that precipice. There was something inside me he pressed against that drove me on in a fury.

"CROWLEY!"

His ferocity intensified and he grabbed me by the hair, growing out now, long enough to get a grip in, and he pulled my head roughly back. I scratched bloody marks down his torso. He made a final frantic movement and screamed out unintelligibly. I could feel myself pulsate around him and I, once again, fell over the edge into the beyond. He collapsed on me, breathing hard.

After a moment he pushed himself to his feet and rose. He smiled down at me and offered me his hand. I took it and he helped me to my feet. Gently he lifted my palm to his hand and kissed it.

All of a sudden he was not the fearsome King of Hell who could enjoy me scratching him apart, or the irate and jealous demon who snarled at me, he was Crowley who risked his life for Ethan and I at Singer's Garage. Crowley whose heartbeat I had slept to for the past three years. Crowley who made me laugh while the whole world was on fire. Crowley I had let my body be pummeled for the chance of bringing him with me.

My whole body softened and I blinked at him. "Crow."

He tilted his head and allowed his eyes to lose their edge, "Bobs."

I took his wrist, with utmost tenderness and stepped into him. I raised my chin and kissed him, a warm tasting of the lips, sharply contrasting with any we had shared in our tussle. He made a contented noise and wrapped an arm around me. I laid my head on his shoulder and put my arms around him, he mimicked the position. We stood there, swaying slightly.

I looked up at the sky, "It's getting dark, we should get back."

He nodded and, after pulling our clothes back on we started the return trip to the village. I dropped an arm around him, "I'm glad, you know, that I got to bring you back."

He shoved me playfully, "I should hope so."

AN: There you go guys! There is their full encounter. Which she didn't put in her journal to give to her dad. HOPE YALL HAD FUN I DID.