My arms are tight against the back of her thighs as she stands there, her hands tangled in my hair for purchase as I bring my lips to her sweet pussy.
I’m not sure how to describe Love’s taste. All I know is that I’ll simply never get enough of it. My tongue lavishes her clit with small circles and flicks. I look up at her from under my lashes, and she’s staring down at me with lusty eyes, her pouty pink lips parted in ecstasy.
Fuck, I think I want to see her look at me like that ’til the end of time.
My palms involuntarily squeeze the soft flesh of her thighs as I press her cunt harder against my mouth. Her flavor floods against my tongue and all I can do is moan before using my mouth to make her do it again.
Her thighs are shaking against my touch but I don’t want this to end too quickly, so I pull away, kissing her pelvis and thigh, making her huff above me.
She tugs my hair and I look up at her, no doubt there’s a sheen of her essence covering the bottom half of my face. I lick my lips and her chest rises and falls as she watches me taste her. I’d spend eternity on this stupid confetti-riddled floor for her.
“That’s not very nice,” she complains breathlessly.
“I’m a reaper. I’m not supposed to be nice.”
“You are to me,” she says softly.
I place another kiss on her thigh and drag my teeth against her soft skin.
“That’s true. But only for you, little cupid.”
She licks her lips and looks around the room before looking back down at me.
“You have quite the audience,” she says.
She doesn’t sound embarrassed or worried about it. Hell, the cupids are hands-down the biggest freaks in the veil. When your life is endless, there isn’t a big fuss about your sexual preferences or kinks. I might hate how joyous they are at times, but based on the sounds around me, these pink misfits know how to fuck.
I kiss her thigh again, and she shivers. My cock is hard and weeping, but I can wait. I want my eyes to be the only ones on her when I fuck her.
“I might fall over if you keep doing that,” she jokes.
I’m on my feet faster than she can track, grabbing her by the waist and carrying her to one of the nearest tables. I’m careless as I toss champagne glasses and silverware on the floor. I place her perfect ass on top of the soft table linen, liking the imagery of making a feast out of her.
I block out everyone else in the room. They are irrelevant. My only focus is on Love and how many times I can make her come with my mouth.
Having already kneeled for her, I decide to pull up one of the pink plush chairs and take a seat in front of her.
“Death,” she rasps my name. As much as I like my name on her lips, I can think of an honorific I’d like much more. We’ll work our way up to that.
The chair screeches, likely drawing more attention as I sit before her, grabbing her thighs and tugging her closer to the table’s edge.
“Yes, Love?” I ask with an arch of a brow, my thumb reaching out and strumming her clit.
“Oh, hell.”
“Mmm. I go to Hell quite often. This is much closer to Heaven, I’d say.”
She knocks over a glass, causing more noise and attention to our table, but falls back on her elbows, still watching me as I toy with her.
“You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” I praise her, and her head falls back, her pink gaze blinking at the ceiling.
I slide two fingers inside of her, curling them inwards, hitting that sweet, soft spot. She keens, and her one leg lifts over my shoulder, her heel digging in, directing me where she wants me.
“Bossy cupid,” I reprimand her, biting down on her thigh. She only digs her heel harder into my back.
I wonder if my cupid likes her pleasure mixed with a little pain as much as I do. I sure fucking hope she does.
“Please,” she begs. It’s so soft and sweet.
