Love & Death [Femdom 18+]

4. Kiss of Death

He didn't know what was worse, having her intoxicating scent all over him or to feel her hot weight on top of him. She was a furnace. Seeping warmth into his skin and making all the places she didn't touch feel colder in comparison. Adrian thought he would burst in his breeches.

His breeches! Nothing had ever been so uncomfortable. She'd driven him nearly mad with the way she dragged her hips up to his lower stomach. But when she leaned back or turned and shifted her weight to peer at her friend, the lush curve of her bottom nudged at the head of his erection. All his energy was spent in not touching her. He didn't want to shove her away, no, that would be too logical a thought. No, his idiotic urges wanted to pull her closer, to drag her down to his mouth and...

Adrian groaned again. Why didn't he just lie to her? He wouldn't be in this position if he'd been a smarter man. But when she'd asked him if he'd be lenient, her hazel eyes so round with expectation, he couldn't form the false words.

And now she prattled on, completely unaware of how eager he was to have her. Or how far away Elizabeth Crenshaw was from his mind.

"Well?" He heard the Cupid prompt him. Adrian couldn't afford to look at her anymore. The white curl in her hair was a reminder of his near failing.

"I haven't been listening," he lied.

"You handsome sullen types are all the same. You don't want to talk about anything that matters and you don't bother to listen when anyone else talks." She'd insulted him, Adrian knew, but his mouth attempted to twitch into a smile. He was clearly pleased that she found him handsome. Even over two centuries of existence, he still fell to flattery.

"Was that a smile? A little one? A tiny seed of a smile?" Her teasing only made him press his lips together in a thin line, determined not even to sneer. "I bet you'd look insanely gorgeous if you smiled," she added.

Her hand on his chin made him open his eyes. His breath caught in his throat as her face filled his vision. She'd gotten so close, her voice sinking into a sultry octave.

He wanted her with an intensity that bordered on violence. Knowing that, if they remained in a heap on the ground, he wouldn't be able to ignore the need to touch her, Adrian began scrambling again. The Cupid hadn't been prepared for it and she began to slide. Adrian took advantage of her unbalance and used his feet and the wall to push himself up to standing.

What he hadn't expected was for her to cling to his shoulders. When he rose to standing, his back against the wall, she was flush against him.

That sweater hid more than it revealed. The soft and generous curve of her breasts flattened against his chest.

"Good God, you can't be human," he muttered to himself.

"I'm not. I'm a Cupid," she retorted and clung to him. She was balancing on her toes but didn't quite reach his height.

"I'm sorry. I have a job to do," Adrian said. He felt regret this time. But Elizabeth Crenshaw was on his list and he had to take her soul.

The Reaper pushed himself from the wall, careful not to touch the dangling Cupid. She slid in front of him, making him groan, but he forged onward toward the hospital bed. The doctor had already left with the nurse, but there was a lone technician recalibrating the machines.

The cupid pushed against him, using her feet as leverage to hold him back. But he was stronger than she was.

"Please! Don't kill her! Don't kill her!" The panic in her voice was like a punch in his gut. He hated himself for doing this. Having never had to interact quite like this with anyone, Adrian was under the impression that his job was innocuous. Death came to one and all, the great equalizer. But it didn't occur to him that those the dead left behind would ever fight so hard.

He'd bodily pushed through Cupid's meager defenses. Her thighs touched the hospital bed and it creaked. The technician turned to look but couldn't see them or hear them. She returned to her work, completely unaware of the two forces of nature battling behind her. Once the machine was reset and beeping steadily, the technician left the room.

"I'm sorry," Adrian repeated as he reached a hand out toward Elizabeth Crenshaw. He leaned over, just inches from caressing the blonde woman's cheek.

Cupid kissed him.

A last desperate attempt to distract him, to break his resolve. Her success was exceptionally complete. Just the touch of her lips had taken his breath away. Blood rushed to his face, heating him. His mind focused with such clarity to his mouth moving against hers. And when her lips opened and her tongue breeched and invaded him, he knew he was lost. Lost in a way that he'd never known. Wandering the afterlife without purpose had felt less frightening than this.

She deepened the kiss further. Her hands combed through his hair as she moaned, no, purred with pleasure.

Adrian rejoiced at the sound, using it as a beacon to guide him through his hazy confusion. Coming back to himself more as he concentrated on her and not just the sensation of the kiss alone, Adrian remembered not to squeeze her too tight. She was so petite beneath her fuzzy sweater.

"Ew...Don't make out while I'm dying. Rude." The voice was so faint. A tiny whisper that crackled and rasped.

The voice brought him crashing to Earth. Adrian tore his mouth away from Geneva and snatched his hands away from her back. She was lovely, smiling, but not at him.

"Shit! Lizzy! Oh my God! Are you okay?" The Cupid asked her friend. He saw Geneva turn back toward him, saw her open her beautiful, wicked mouth to say something. But he couldn't stay.

He gathered his shadow around himself and vanished from the room, leaving nothing but wispy smoke behind.

Death knew with complete certainty that no matter how far he ran, he wouldn't be able to outrun the memory of Love's demanding embrace.

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Author's Note: Happy New Year! I made a commitment to you JUST this morning. And I basically broke it. My only solace is knowing that, for my west coast readers, it is STILL Wednesday, December 31, 2014!

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