Venom

024

The first lights of dawn washed over the bedroom brushing Helen's eyelids.
Her body was pressed against Dean's chest, spooning her by keeping his heavy arm around her waist. His hot breath tickled her bare neck in even blows. Smiling, she turned around - careful not to wake him up - and rested her head under his chin. He hummed something, but then fell back into deep sleep.

His few visible tattoos stood out in the red-orange light, giving his tan skin a golden shade. She brushed her fingers over his muscles, over the ink, trying her best to remember every little detail of his body. Every small scar on his arms, every tiny and almost invisible mole. Detail after detail, an hour passed.
He stirred and turned on his back, pulling her with him.

Helen offered him a soft kiss on his exposed collarbone, looking up at his still closed eyes. "Hi," she said, lifting her sore body on her elbows. Her hips ached slightly, her butt stung and the spot were his two initials had been carved still burned a little, but it was pain she enjoyed baring.

Dean opened an eye and peered down at her. Then he closed his eyes again and smiled, remembering the events of last night. "Morning," he answered, his voice deep and still coated by sleep.
Helen felt her core vibrating in excitement at that sound.
He brushed her back with his fingers. "You alright?" he asked.

She stretched over his mouth and placed a stamp kiss. "Never better," she answered.
He hummed, grabbing her cheek with his other hand and pulling her in for another kiss, soft and chaste. "I'll go make breakfast," she told him, sitting up. His hand remained firm on her hip even while she stretched her arms upwards, stirring her spine. She turned to him. "What do you want to eat?" she asked.

As expected, he gave her a mischievous smile. "Your p-"

"Pancakes. My pancakes, perfect. Be right back," she stopped him, placing her hand on his mouth. A second later, she cried out, "Ew!" after he licked her palm. She cleaned her wet hand on his chest, shaken by a deep laugh that made her stomach turn upside down.

He locked his hand behind his head while she put on his sweater and her usual fuzzy socks. "You've had my tongue in far worse places than your hand. Ew isn't the word I'd use," he pointed out, wiggling his brows.

She faked a smile, leaning back over him, his eyes on her lips. "I will cut your tongue and shove it up your ass if you don't shut up, pretty boy," she threatened him, winking.

"Oh, really?" he teased, grabbing the collar of her - his - hoodie. She hummed, moving forward to bite his lip. He went along, deepening the kiss. His teeth gently dug in the soft skin of her neck, making a little whimper escape her lips. "I absolutely love it when you call me pretty boy," he admitted, nibbling her earlobe.

"I know you do, pretty boy," she repeated with a breathy chuckle on his lips.

He hummed, pleased. "I don't like the power you hold over me," he stated, feeling himself harden in his pants.

Helen snuggled in the crook of his neck, her back bent so that her ass was far away from him, but perfectly in sight, and slid a hand over his large thigh, stopping right above his bulge. "Would you like me to hold something else, sir?" she teased him, brushing her thumb over the now tight fabric. He groaned, going back in for a kiss while he instinctively rocked his hips once into her touch. She laughed on his lips, and then pulled back, straightening up and folding her arms.

"You little tease," he muttered, falling with his head on the mattress. He heard her laugh again, and loved the sound of it.

"I'll see you in the kitchen, you fat ass prick," she laughed, giving his ass a soft smack that made him lift his head. She theatrically bowed, before leaving the bedroom to finally make breakfast.