Love & Death [Femdom 18+]

2. Merciful Death

         She was a very beautiful woman, Adrian conceded. The opposite of everything he was. Dark languid warmth where he was pale blue chill, bright eyed and caring where he was sullen and unfeeling. Apathetic only until she placed herself in harm's way in order to save her friend from his touch. Then he grew hot with anger. Not since he was first made into a Reaper did he accidentally take someone before their time. Centuries! And here, this one wayward, lovely woman, nearly kicked the bucket right before his eyes.

        "Are you insane? I could have killed you!" He heard himself shouting. She looked as surprised as he felt but didn't seem cowed by his anger. He approved of her fearlessness. Too many fear the merciful hand of Death. Adrian combed his hand through his dark gold hair as if to rake his admiration of the Cupid out of his mind. 

        "I appreciate the show of restraint. Look, can we please talk about this?" She eased up and away from her friend. The blonde woman, Elizabeth Crenshaw, was definitely on his list and Adrian was never late to deliver a soul.

        "I have no time to argue with you, Cupid, I have a task to complete," Death replied. He breathed deeply to calm his nerves but only managed to inhale Love's sweet aroma. A bouquet of flowers and cinnamon, baked goods, and candy assaulted him. Adrian sucked in his breath and stared at the Cupid as his arousal spiked against his willful suppression. He wanted to lean into her neck and breathe in that warm comforting smell. When her eyes grew wide with surprise again, Adrian paused. He was leaning into her, doing just as he wanted without questioning. 

        Angrily, he took two steps away from the bed of the infirm and glared at Cupid. It was sorcery. She'd cast her love spell on him to distract him.

        "I'm sure there's a way to come to an agreement! I don't deny that people have to die, it's a natural part of life. But love is natural too! There are already so many who die without knowing love. Please don't let Lizzy be added to that statistic!" The Cupid pleaded her case well, clearly unafraid of him. 

        She'd taken advantage of his retreat by advancing upon him and as she grew passionate, her luscious smell enveloped him until he grew dizzy with need for her. Adrian couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted anyone so desperately and though he prided himself on possessing a strength of will, his will had never been tested before. It failed, he could see, against the beauty before him. 

        "You're in luck. I'm not here to take Lizzy. I'm here to take Elizabeth Crenshaw," Death replied in confusion as she backed him up toward the door.

        "What? No, Lizzy is a diminutive of Elizabeth. I guess since your name is Death, you don't need a shorter name," she mused.

        "My name is not Death. Death is my area of expertise. My profession is Reaper. My name is Adrian," he supplied condescendingly. As soon as he realized his mistake, it was already too late. She smiled brilliantly at him and Death gritted his teeth against the flow of compliments he wished to shower her with. 

        "Hello, Adrian! My name's Geneva. It's very nice to meet you," she said cheerily. The Cupid had the gift of gab, and she had no shyness about her. "My area of expertise is Love and I'm a Cupid," she added with the same jovial and sarcastic teasing. 

        Her effervescence was addicting after centuries of his own sullen company. He had to get away from her, but he also had to take Elizabeth Crenshaw's soul. He could easily touch the Cupid and remove the obstacle in his path, but that was reckless behavior that could get him severely punished for all eternity. Reaping was a very important job and required a lot of trust. If he flagrantly misused his powers, he would surely suffer.

        "I need to take her," Adrian said and stepped around the Cupid. This must end now, he thought.

        But his thought was interrupted by two hands that reached up to press against his chest. Her warmth filled him and left him bereft of air. Even through his shirt front and evening dress coat, he could feel the outline of her fingers. He hadn't been touched for so long, he'd forgotten what it was like. And because she was a Cupid, she was filled to the brim with love and the emotion took him by surprise. The worse part was that he couldn't reach out to stop her because, if he touched her, she would die. And if she died, he would never feel this...sensation again. 

        Death stuttered. Nonsensical words and syllables left his lips and his eyes fell shut, squeezed tight against the strange flow of love seeping in to warm him. It reminded him of whiskey, the way it burned first. Scorching him so that heat made his cheeks flush with color. 

        "You look cute when you blush," he heard Cupid--Geneva, tease. She was unaffected and this frustrated Adrian more than he could explain. 

        "Whoa! Hey, are you okay?" She cried out. Her image was burned into his mind. Even with his eyelids shutting her out, he could envision her face, golden brown, worried and frowning.

        Her hand moved, slid up from his chest to his shoulders, then, experimentally at first, through his hair. When he didn't resist her, --how could he?, she continued combing her fingers through the strands. He felt comforted by this and knew that it was intentional. The distress he felt at being filled with her love had been noticed and she soothed him with the very hands that struck him down in the first place. 

        When his head leaned forward and rested against something soft and warm, Adrian opened his eyes. Love had brought him to his knees in the span of seconds, and now he rested against her like a dog being patted. Humiliation replaced the earlier flush on his face and he scrambled back, away from her. It pained him to know how easily she shattered him. Forgetting about Elizabeth Crenshaw, Adrian turned to smoke and shadow, removing himself from this realm, and from Geneva's startled and amused gaze.