Venom

050

They'd watched the sun being swallowed by the sea in oranges, yellows and reds.

New York sunsets and beach sunsets were so different, despite sharing the same flaming star. In the big city, the sun rays splashed the skyscrapers like paint. Here, they were like watercolors spilled on the clear surface of the Mediterranean sea.

She was sitting between his parted legs, his chin resting on her shoulder, her hands in the sand, his on her legs, when he'd whispered, "We should go back home. I don't like being late," he'd said.

Helen had turned her head to face him. "You're right. Luciana will smack our asses with her wooden ladle if we don't get there in time," she'd replied, and they'd both got up and walked back home.

Now, he was fixing the sleeves of his black tuxedo, making sure they were smooth and straight. "Helen, are you ready?" he shouted to her from the bedroom.

"Uhh, two minutes," she replied from the bathroom, her tone hesitating.

Dean shook his head and walked up to the door, knocking with his knuckles. "We're gonna be late," he told her, gripping the doorknob. He twisted it and opened the door. His mouth went dry.

Helen turned around, the hand holding the red lipstick froze. "I didn't say you could come in," she pointed out, leaning her hip against the sink and crossing her arms in front of her chest, covered by a red lace bra, matching the thin thong she had on. Truthfully, little of her body was covered.

Trying to swallow, Dean found his throat parched. He blinked a couple times, scanning her beautiful body twice, memorizing the way the lace wrapped her like his personal Christmas present. Lord have mercy, he thought, gripping the doorknob harshly.

That matching set of lingerie... he hadn't seen her buying it yesterday. Sure, she'd bought the dress, heels and some make-up, but when did she get that?

Smirking, she closed the lipstick and walked up to him, slightly swaying her hips. His eyes were everywhere. His gaze burned her skin. "Something wrong, pretty boy?" she purred, brushing her index finger over the arm that was resting idly along his side.

His jaw clenched when her breasts almost brushed his chest. God, he wanted to take them in his hands and squeeze them hard enough to leave fucking handprints. Jesus Christ, that tattoo poking from the red lace was like the apple with Eve. His hands tightened even more, his eyes darkening as they touched her skin.

Something creaked and then snapped. They both looked down to Dean's hand... where the doorknob rested clenched between his fingers, separated from the door. "Shit." He'd broken it. First his headboard, then this... Fucking hell.

Proud, she moved past him, grinning like the snake she was, and went into the bedroom, where she slipped on the short red dress they'd bought yesterday. It was tight on her curves with a square neckling.

The snake necklace shone between her breasts, making it impossible for Dean to look elsewhere. He cleared his throat, willing his dick to calm the fuck down. "I've got you something," he said, his voice coming out deeper than he'd expected.

Her eyebrows moved in amusement. "What is it?" she asked, walking towards him. She rocked on her feet like an innocent child. With that dress on and what she wore under it, innocent was the last thing she was.

It was Dean's turn to smirk. "Get on the bed," he told her.

While she was sitting there with her legs under her butt, he circled the bed and took a box from the drawer. He opened it and took out what was inside. Her smile grew. "Thought you said I didn't need one," she told him.