“Patience, baby,” he whispers in my ear.
I shift on his lap. How dare he ask me to be patient when we both know I’m currently sitting here with a heart-shaped butt plug and nearly dripping, waiting for him to ravish me?
“Have you seen yourself?”
The man is usually naked or in his robes in my presence, but in this getup? My mind has nearly melted. He looks like James Bond or Batman. No, definitely Batman.
“Yes, I have, you’re one lucky cupid,” he says with a grin.
“Oh, my fuck. Please stop paying this arrogant bastard compliments. Isn’t his head big enough?” Mors complains, jostling a very happy Juliet on her lap.
She’s up for the rookie lover of the year. I couldn’t be prouder of the cupid she’s become. I almost feel bad for Eros in his own way. He’s a bit of a good luck Chuck. Once you’ve been with him,you basically toss away cupid kind and find the reaper of your dreams. I’m certainly not complaining.
I’m not up for any awards this year, and I totally get why. I’ve been engrossed in my whirlwind inter-veil-being relationship. While I think it’s made me a better cupid all around, I haven’t been as focused on the numbers game, more so getting it right with my arrows. Making love matches has become far more fulfilling than spreading lust, even if I still start an orgy from time to time.
It also doesn’t hurt that my guy secretly enjoys helping me find true love matches. It’s honestly the perfect setup because a lot of the time we work to help people find love after the hardest time of their life.
I nestle against my big softy of a reaper, and both of his hands wrap around my hips as he kisses my head.
“Your head isn’t super big, just slightly large,” I sigh, and he swats my ass.
“Little cupid, I will spank your ass for each number of the countdown if you can’t behave.”
Breaking the rules absolutely has its benefits, but Death has his rules. He totally would spank me in front of these cupids to make a point, but he won’t fuck me. He has no issue showing his dick, or me drooling all over it either. I found that out very quickly during the May Day Parade.
But the reaper doesn’t like others watching while he’s inside of me. He says it’s just for us. My romance is absolutely sickening in the best way. I know, I adore it.
Cupio takes his stand in front of the cupids. Same speech, same awards, until we get to the Rookie of the Year.
Mors holds on tight to her cupid, and when Juliet’s name is announced, they embrace, both of them with massive smiles on their faces.
“Go get your award, honey,” the usually grumpy reaper says to Juliet. Juliet kisses Mors one more time while Death and I clap and she goes up to get her award.
Mors looks on with hearts in her eyes, and I can’t help but sigh at the precious love surrounding us.
“Stop looking at me like that, Love,” Mors complains.
“I can’t help it. You two are just so fucking precious. It feels like my cupid heart might burst all over the floor from watching you together.”
Death chuckles, and Mors glares at me. She still has a long way to go with being around cupids. But the effort she put into her appearance with her slick black suit just shows me she cares tremendously for Juliet. I’m so smart for setting them up together.
“Are you boasting inside of your own head?” Death says, squeezing my ass and making me shift back to being aware of the toy inside of me.
“Can you blame me?”
“No, baby, I can’t. You’re amazing,” he whispers against my ear, and kisses that sweet soft spot right below my earlobe.
Falling absolutely wings over feet for Death has been the easiest thing I’ve done as a cupid, and I’m better for it. It’s not the type of romance where you get so lost that you can’t find yourself. It’s the type where you grow alongside each other. We’re both better people because we’re together. I never truly understood how much support meant in a long-lasting relationship, but it’s everything.
Love isn’t about the gifts… though I do really like gifts. The dates, which I also need at least every week. But the true grit to making a relationship last is loving the other person for who they are and always having their back. We’re each other’s biggest cheerleaders, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
Juliet comes back to the table, her bright shiny gold award glistening as she sits back on Mors lap. Their foreheads are pressed together as they speak sweetly to one another, and I turn over to look at Death.
His beautiful face continues to take my breath away.
“Did you have a good Love New Year, Love?” he asks, his nose dragging along the side of my face.
“The best I could have asked for,” I whisper back, and his lips meet mine.
