Page 77 of Touch of Death
“But nothing. You are not to harm Eros simply because he desires me, is that understood? If anything, you should be thankful for him.”
“Thankful,” Death scoffs. “Why the hell would I be thankful for that?”
“Because without him, we may never have come together here.”
Death is quiet for a long moment before he lets out a deep sigh. He looks away for a moment before nodding his head slowly, his eyes returning to mine.
“You are right, little one,” he says, his eyes burning with desire as he reaches for my hand from the edge of the pool. “These feelings for you are powerful, and I have not yet learned to fully control them. I want you. I desire no one but you, and I would rather kill than see someone with you. Not before I have yet to know you fully myself.”
With that, Death pulls me gently into the pool with him, carrying me in his arms as he wades deeper. Setting me on my feet, he pulls off his mask before we both slip beneath the surface.
Rising back up out of the water, Death cups my face, tilting my head back as he bends to press his lips to mine. Immediately, I’m lost in his kiss. I need more, want more.
I reach for him, pressing my body to his as my hands work to loosen his shirt.
He lets out a low chuckle that rumbles through me, deepening our kiss just as I manage to pull out the hem. My hand slips beneath, feeling the strength of his cold body as they trace lower.
“Hazel,” he growls deeply when my hand slips to his belt.
“Please,” I whisper, even as he reaches to pull my hand away.
“Not yet, little one. Some things cannot be undone, and I would have you safe first.”
He starts to step back just as I reach up to pull aside one of the dress’ straps, my heart thundering in my chest as he freezes. My fingers dip below the plunging neckline as I trace it lower, fully intending to let him see more of me. Wanting him to.
“Hazel,” he says again, his voice tighter as he quickly reaches to stay my hand. “Please. I cannot say what I would do.”
His eyes linger on my breast, still barely concealed beneath thin layers of fabric, before lifting to meet mine.
“Then do not say it,” I say, but his hand tightens around my wrist, refusing to allow me to show him more.
“You will know me, but not yet. Not before the masquerade. Once this is all over, I promise to finish what we have started.”
Chills of anticipation race across my skin at this, and I finally relinquish my attempts to have him take me here and now. I release the dress strap, and Death catches it to slip it safely back over my shoulder.
“Come, it is time for us to prepare for a ball,” he says, pressing one last soft kiss to my lips before once again donning his mask.
33
Hazel
All too soon, we’re returning to Eros’ bedroom to prepare for the night ahead.
I’m all nerves as we’re greeted by the two female attendants from before.
“Come,” says the one who’s been helping me, “you must be bathed.”
I follow her into the bathroom, reluctant to leave Death’s side even as I see the other woman hand him his old set of clothes and lead him behind a partition.
“What is your name?” I ask when the attendant shuts the door behind us and begins preparing the bath for me.
“My name?” she repeats, apparently taken aback by my question. “I … I do not remember ever having a name.”
I stare at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue, but she remains silent, her eyes downcast. I can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. I know all too well what it can feel like to lose one’s identity to those you serve, to feel like you simply exist without a purpose of your own.
“Would you like me to give you name?”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide as she pours a bottle of pink liquid into the bath.
