Psyche discovers Eros naked in her bed

Psyche moaned in her sleep. It took a moment for her to be able to fight her way to the surface of the fog of unconsciousness clouding her brain and open her eyes. She lay still for a moment, then shifted beneath the fur blanket draped over her naked body and swept her gaze around the room, struggling to pierce the darkness.

A wince crossed her face. Her body felt sore, aching, unfamiliar. He had come again. The man from her dreams. She slid her hand up the length of her neck. She could still feel the brush of his fingers against her skin.
A hand stroked her thigh. Psyche turned her head slowly, her eyes blinking rapidly, searching the room for his face. Her gaze instantly fell onto a shadowy figure slumped next to her in bed. It was him. Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her sudden gasp.

In the dim light of the moon she could make out the shape of his head tilted back against a pillow and his thighs spread apart. One of his arms was flung against his chest and the other was curved around her leg. She could hear the sound of his breathing as he slept.

Psyche pushed herself into a sitting position and clutched the blanket against her breasts. She sat still for a moment then crawled forward and slowly, shyly, lowered her hand onto her sleeping lover's chest.

She immediately flinched and withdrew away, shaking in shock. "It wasn't a dream." She bent her head and stared down at his face. She placed a trembling hand onto his stomach. His skin was warm to the touch. Swallowing a lump in her throat, Psyche began to slide her hand over the top of his abdomen and up the length of his chest, her fingers tracing the outline of his muscles and brushing against his chest hairs. His heart thudded beneath her palm. Psyche pulled away from him slowly, a smile touching her mouth.

It had been several moons since he had started whispering to her in the dark. She had awoken from the first encounter believing it to be a dream until she had rushed out onto the balcony and seen a winged man glide past the moon. He had returned to her bed chamber every night since then. She had welcomed him into her arms each time. She still did not know his name. Or what he looked like. All she knew was his touch. And the sound of his voice. The bond growing between them was something she could not explain. It went beyond the simple pleasures of the flesh. It was almost as if their souls were connected.

From the moment he had first began visiting her at night Psyche had longed to look upon his face. The few times she had tried to catch a glimpse of him all she had managed to see was the glint of his eyes in the moonlight.
Perhaps if I... Psyche crept forward and leaned over her lover, biting her bottom lip, her face flushed with anticipation. Forgive me, my love. I have to know.

Psyche pulled back into the shadows and lifted her arm. Her eyes, usually black, brightened to gold. A ball of flame erupted in the palm of her hand dissolving the shadows in the room. Psyche gaze down at the man next to her in bed. In the flickering light of the fire shadows stroked his face and caressed his muscular body drawing her attention onto his broad shoulders and rippled chest. His skin was bronze in colour. His arms and legs were roped with muscles and his chin was covered in a thin layer of whiskers. His hair was tawny, almost golden. It framed his face and fell below his shoulders in a mass of curls.

A gasp escaped her throat. "I know you..."
He was Eros. The God of Sexual Desire. There was no mistaking his face. She had been raised to worship the Olympian Gods. Some of her earliest memories were of attending festivals devoted to the Gods and traveling to the temple of Aphrodite with her parents to pay tribute to the Goddess of Love. She had always been enthralled by the tale of Aphrodite's son.

And now he's in my bed. The realization that she was in the presence of one of the Gods filled Psyche with a mixture of panic and astonishment. Why is he here? What compelled him to seduce me? I am a mortal. He is a God.

Psyche dropped her gaze to his wrist. A gasp escaped her lips. "It can't be..." Imprinted into his skin was a symbol used to represent her name. Psyche shifted her gaze onto a similar mark on her own wrist. The symbol consisted of a pair of arrows arranged in a cross in front of a winged heart. She had been born with it. Neither she, or her parents, had known what it had represented. Psyche dragged a gulp of air into her lungs. Until now.

It was the mark of Eros. It had to be. Psyche stared down at Eros for several heartbeats. She could hear the sound of her breathing and feel beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. "Are you my soul mate?" she whispered.
Eros's eyes snapped open and locked onto her face.
"What have you done?" his voice was mild, but there was something in his tone that stole the breath from her lungs.

"Forgive me." She twisted her hands together in the folds of the blanket. "I only wanted to see your face." Eros remained still, his gaze locked with hers. "I see." He lurched upward and swung his legs over the side of the bed with blurring speed. He turned his back on Psyche and buried his face into his hands. "Now you know who I am."

Psyche tilted her chin at him. "Yes. I do."
Eros looked at her over his shoulder. "Why?" his eyes moved over her face. "What possessed you to do such a thing?"
Tears stung in her eyes. "Is it so wrong, milord, to want to look into the eyes of your beloved?"

Eros pointed a finger at Psyche. "You are a child." A snarl edged his mouth. "You speak of things you do not understand. I was trying to protect you."
Psyche's heart stilled. "What are you talking about?"
She grabbed his arm and tapped a finger against the mark on his wrist. "Does this have something to do with it?"

He pulled away from her with a flinch. Psyche framed his face in her hands and forced him to look back into her eyes. "Eros, are you my soul mate?" she pressed her wrist against his own. A golden light arched between them.

Eros jumped backward, suspended in the air, wings spread wide behind his back. A look of bitterness masked his face. "Forgive me." He fled towards the balcony in a rush of wind. Psyche dropped the blanket onto the floor and rushed out onto the terrace after him, shaking her head, tears streaking down her face. "Come back!"


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