She urges, he relents, and it's about now Dean starts to get lost. It's about now everything else in his mind goes quiet, and his perception narrows. That urgency drives him, and he meets it — exceeds it. Darts a tongue out to taste lip, a gentle and fleeting appeal, coaxing. The hand that'd been safely gripping her arm wanders, finds her ribs, palms the span of them, and then drifts lower. They both do, down waist, down hips, ducking down until they both hit thigh, so he can abruptly lift her, spin them, and set her on the table where he'd been perched. All in one smooth maneuver, without ever fully breaking away from her lips.

It's a little faster than he'd go normally, but something about this... it's momentum set to snowball.