Head bowing further, closing in against the desk, Dean's forehead almost knocks directly into it. Breath ghosting hotter against the top, Dean can't even see straight enough for it to matter, though for a second he pulls back only to find himself stuck fast. It's almost enough to make him panic for a second, halfway expecting to topple forward, but instead he attempts to dig his heels into the floor and shove his hips back.

Which only works to the extent that he's distracted by Lucifer's thrust, trembling as his muscles constrict. He's not sure exactly how he's supposed to please Lucifer, he's got not no clue what else he can possibly do but his wrists twist against their bonds, trying to speak desperate words against his silence.