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Dean isn't sure if he starts because he's so damned afraid Cas will fly off and forget him or if it's because he wants the entire world to know that Cas belongs to him. Probably a bit of both.
It's almost scary how primal and raw it feels to mark his angel up. To blemish supernaturally pale skin with darkening purple bruises left by his mouth and lips. To watch the appearance of his fingerprints on the jut of Castiel's hipbone courtesy of a desperate, fierce grip from one Dean Winchester.
Cas loves it more than Dean does, he's fairly sure. Part of Dean breaks, wondering if Cas gets off on it because he's afraid to belong to himself, wonder if he considers himself Dean's wholly and irrevocably in a way that makes Dean uncomfortable.
But Cas arches into the harsh bite of Dean's teeth on the long, vulnerable column of his neck. He moans and slots his hand over the burn on Dean's shoulder when Dean's nails scrape down his back. Dean spends an eternity sucking and licking and nipping at the jut of Castiel's hipbone, watching the flesh pinken then flush darker and darker until Dean Winchester's name and touch are seared onto his body.
Cas takes it all and keens when Dean slides up and down his body, amazed at the way his angel stays so open for him, legs splayed on either side of his waist and his hands always clutching at something--the sheets, a pillow, Dean's hair, Dean's shoulder--as if he's afraid to feel this much, afraid to voice how much he's enjoying Dean's rough, possessive touch.
But Dean needs more. He needs to know Cas understands.
With an obscene pop, he pulls his mouth away from the spot underneath Castiel's jaw and nuzzles his face, stubble scraping and burning. He growls near his angel's ear, "Let go, Cas. Fucking let it out. Tell me you're mine. Tell me you like it."
He trails a hand from Castiel's chest, tweaking a tight nipple on the way down, coming to tease the head of Castiel's cock. Light, barely there touches swiping at the sensitive flesh. He won't give the angel what he wants til he hears it. Cas only whimpers, his eyes rolling back into his head, hips arching up, seeking Dean's touch.
Dean bites lightly on Castiel's earlobe. "Say it. Say you're mine. Say you belong to me. Mine, baby. Only mine."
Cas nods, body writhing. "Yes, please, Dean. Yes." He turns his head so he's facing Dean, breath hot and panting against Dean's cheek. "Please." His eyes are wide, desperate, seeking.
Dean grins, pressing a quick kiss to the angel's mouth. "No, baby. No. I want you to say the words. You wanna come, don't you baby? Then you gotta say it. You're mine, only mine."
Dean leans down to resume his attentions to Castiel's abused, red flesh--teeth nipping the tendons straining beneath Cas' hot skin. His thumb rubs circles on the head of Castiel's cock, fingertips brushing up and down the length but never fully gripping the erection, never giving full friction and touch. Forever teasing.
Cas moans when Dean's teeth scrape along a particularly elongated tendon, biting down. "Yes, yours, Dean. Only yours. Forever yours. Yours."
Dean smiles and growls into his skin, "Good boy."