Eliot made a whining keen as his grip on Dean tightened when his hole was finally breached. That turned into soft whispery gasps when the finger curved up to touch his prostate.

"Y-you're kiddin' me?" he asked as he rested his forehead on Dean's shoulder, the posture therefore arching as neck and baring his mark for Dean's licking leisure.

"You're threatenin'... oh don't stop... to cock block me if I broke your bones?" He started licking at Dean's shoulder as well, alternating between soft nips and light licks that faltered every time Dean squeezed him. "You're the one askin' for it... Yes, damnit, you better fuck me."