Psyche

Chapter 24

Some weeks later, Eros walked into the palace, a bouquet of Atlantean flowers in his hands. Brownie greeted him, as well as the two kitties but Psyche was nowhere to be found. He searched and search, even forgoing his invisibility veil in his search. He had searched the garden and all the rooms of the palace including the kitchen.

Finally, with a veil of darkness around him, he climbed the stone steps to the observatory. Even before he reached the steel door, he heard Psyche's weeping. The sound shocked him to his core since he had never heard her weep. She hadn't wept when she was whisked away from her home to marry what she thought was a beast. She hadn't wept when she had seen an actual beast in her bedroom in the middle of the night. In fact, he couldn't imagine her weeping at anything, so ruled was she by logic and reason.

He knocked on the door.

"Psyche," he said, "What's wrong? Let me help you, whatever it is."

Gradually, the sobs lessened and he heard her voice.

"I've placed a mask over my eyes," she said, "You can come in"

Eros's heart constricted at that. He wanted to badly to throw off the veils of invisibility and darkness, so show her his true self. He had no doubt that she loved him, as he loved her. And, as hard as it was for him to accept, she had fallen in love with him without the help of one of his arrows.

However, he wanted to reveal himself to her at a happy moment, not in the consolation of grief or sadness. He had a clear picture in his mind of coming upon her in the garden, and she being surprised and for a moment wondering who he was before realizing not only that he was her husband but his true identity. She would run into his arms, and they would make love in the broad daylight in the garden so she could enjoy looking at his body the way he had so often looked at hers.

Besides, something had traumatized her. She didn't need another shock, positive though it was.

He entered the room and saw her in the corner in a heap. She had sat up and was feeling around for something to hold, most likely so she could get to her feet. He walked toward her and took her hands gently and helped her to her feet before gathering her into his arms and kissing her hair.

"Dear Psyche," he said, "What is the matter? Did someone harm you?"

She sighed.

"No," she replied softly, "I'm merely homesick. I have been resolute this many months, but recently I've been missing home. . .mother, father. . .Nikolas especially." She paused slightly. "Even my sisters. It's possible to miss something or rather someone you don't like, right?"

Eros squeezed her tight. Immortals didn't much care to be alone, and mortals positively hated it. Even knew that romantic love was only one kind of company, and people needed all kinds of company to be happy.

"Would you like to arrange a visit from someone from home?" asked Eros, "I could do that.

He couldn't see her eyes, but something about her body language brightened immediately. She smiled.

"Nikolas? Would you bring Nikolas here?"

Eros smiled. "If he can spare the time, being crown prince and all, that would be wonderful."

"When?" asked Psyche.

"Not long . . .a few days at most."

She squeezed him and reached up and kissed him fully and passionately. She was the aggressor, and he practically swooned as she poured all the grief and gratitude she had experienced in the previous moments into kisses. She kissed his neck and her hands wandered down his chest.

"Psyche. . ." he whispered, "Shall I take you to our bedroom?"

She laughed, "We're always in our bedroom. It seems a waste of all the wonderful rooms in the house."

Psyche slowly lowered herself down on her knees. Her busy, delicate hands found the fasteners of his pants. She didn't even bother to caress him through the cloth, she simply undid the buttons and pulled his arousal out into the cool air of the room.

Thankfully for his pride, her warm hand began rubbing him passionately. Soon, her lips joined her hands and took him into her mouth, her tongue lovingly stimulating his flesh. His hands entwined themselves in her hair, and he smiled as the memory of how shocked she had been when he first suggested this flitted through his mind.

She's certainly gotten used to the idea, was his last coherent thought as she pulled and sucked with both precision and passion.

He tried to pull away, when he was getting too close for his comfort, but she refused to let him.

By the Gods, he thought, she's going to make me come in her mouth. We're better matched than anyone could have guessed.

He tried to hold back and prolong his pleasure, but she had learned so much in the past months about how to make him happy that it wasn't long before he shuddered and spilled himself into her small mouth.

She released him, and she swallowed. He laughed and wondered if his semen tasted sweeter than mortals. He was the god of sex, and he had never thought to learn if that were so. It had never mattered to him before, but it mattered now. Still intoxicated by his orgasm, he dropped to his knees so he could hold her in his arms. He kissed her face and mouth, using his hand to brush away excess of himself from her lips.

"I love you," he whispered, "Never, ever, doubt that."

"And I love you," she replied, "Never, ever doubt that."

After that, no more words were necessary. Eventually, they scrambled to their feet and he did finally take her back to their bedroom. He recovered quickly, even for a god, and physically showed her all the gratitude and love he could for what she had given him earlier. Finally, when she slept contentedly by his side, he marveled at how happy he was. He had always known that love made people happy, in the abstract. It, after all, was his job to know that. But, after all the centuries of shooting arrows, he had never known what true love and true passion - actually felt like.

Now he did.