Dean shudders for that scrape of teeth, so far from pain but somehow just as heady, a tease he can't get away from or press for more. "Yeah," he says, tongue thick, and it doesn't seem like enough, his mind spinning dizzily around the words, "Yes, sir."

He can feel Castiel's hands on him, familiar fingers skimming along his skin, breath warm where it puffs against him, but Dean can't see him. "Fuck, you're good at this."