It had never occurred that she could decline the consummation. Notorious as it is for being done on the wedding night, she assumed they'd do so without much question. That Eros would simply take control and have at her.
“I truly mean it, Psyche.” Eros stated, his right hand reaching for her left hand and gently holding it in his palm. “We are allowed to do as we wish, this is our wedding night.” He adds, a hit of amusement in his tone as he slowly helps her move towards the four-poster bed.
The dark emerald green sheets are hidden beneath the shadows of the canopy of the four-poster bed, the curtains seemed somewhat drawn. well, the sides were, the front wasn't. He pushed Psyche to sit down on the bed bench that matched it, and once she had, he sat besides her.
“I have read stories where man and woman do not need to have relations on the wedding night. Sex itself is sacred, and I believe you also hold the same sentiment. If not something close.”
“I do.” Psyche agrees, her eyes searching Eros's. “But if we don't do that… then what will we do in this bedroom suite?”
“Talk? Speak of anything that may come to mind. We do not know each other quite well, and our intimacy may be lacking if we are to rush into anything.”
His thumb traces the pattern of a heart on the back of her hand, soothing any nerves that may have risen. Psyche smiled at the gesture, casting a glance at their hands that are connected in a comforting way.
Eros had a warmth that felt like a fire, burning away any coldness that had clung to Psyche's hand. It was a feeling Psyche knew would run through her entire body if he ever hugged her one day. An all consuming warmth that wasn't anything like a fire, but an imitation— one that was better, one that was more profound in nature.
“I see. I had assumed you would have at me and do as you please.” Psyche admitted, looking back up to stare at Eros. “Even though, somewhere along the way, I did imagine you to be a man full of hormones. Suppressed ones, at least.”
Eros raised an eyebrow, incredulous as it is, the thought was amusing to hear from Psyche Viocosmo. “Do you believe I'm a manwhore, Psyche?”
“No? I presumed a manwhore was a man who slept around… a prostitute…?”
She was rather uncertain, and it showed. But Eros found this more liking than them going straight to coitus without warming up.
“Yet, you compared me to a prepubescent teenager. I have a good control on my body, Psyche. If I so dare, I could easily seduce you, but I do not want that.” His tone had taken a slight change into that of vulnerability. He was bearing a part of his heart to help Psyche not be so afraid or confused or used.
Intimacy in itself was a spectrum. To be loved is to be understood and known— there wasn't any wrong way to know a person, besides sneaking around and snooping, but it lingered on the aspect of wanting to get to that change. To open the chest of a courtee and see what makes them themselves.
But that is through the art of surgery. No, intimacy had many ways to broaden horizons. It only stood on the chance of someone wanting to administer the connection that will form. It's a leap of faith. All consuming, all devouring of a person as the other lays before them to be consumed.
“Well, you won't be the only one being compared to a prepubescent either.” Psyche added quietly. It wasn't that Eros had called her one, per se. But, she did have unholy thoughts now and then, that alone could make the Archbishop faint.
“Ah, does my wife have impure thoughts? Surely that is unheard of! A princess having thoughts that could make a nun faint, hm?” There was a lilt to his voice, especially as he grew closer to Psyche's body.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
One had missed the very creation of a smirk forming upon Eros's face. At the very act, one could see his eyes gleaming with excitement as he drew closer and closer towards Psyche.
Her hand pressed against his chest, their lips mere inches apart before she had stopped him. “It's natural, no? To have thoughts that are solely for yourself instead of anyone else.” It was a statement, nothing less, nothing more. Psyche had admitted something because she felt it was natural to say that instead of allowing Eros to feel too vulnerable.
Even now, as he leans away, sitting down once again. It's a new feeling to be open about thoughts she has never considered to be true.
“Besides that, I believe you should change.” Eros looked down at his attire, the ruffled blouse and high waisted pants— his shoes long gone by now. He ‘tsked’ standing up and scanned Psyche's own attire; her body only contained the nightgown.
“hm, of course.” He answered, his right hand pulling the long piece of the ribbon around his shirt. It loosened significantly before becoming two seperate strings. Using both hands, Eros had started to unbutton his shirt, each button slowly giving way to his chest and stomach.
Next, his pants had been unbuttoned, he was left within his undergarment. Turning around, he went to the partition in the bedchamber and slipped into loose clothing.
Psyche was not privy to viewing him, he had given her a show only that of a male consort would give to a Queen or Empress for seduction. However, little appetite had been sparked within her, along with miniscule shame for admiring what is now hers.
“Well, now that I have changed, Lady Psyche, which side of the bed calls to your body?” Eros walked out from behind the partition looking over at the four-poster bed, almost scrutinizing it as he tried to delve deeper into it. Then again, by now the bed should have been used for their maritals, but he had gone the route of making compatibility.
“Oh, I suppose the left side. It is closer to the restroom.” Standing up, Psyche went to the left side and pulled the duvet back. Moving the various pillows, she placed them aside on the ground and fluffed up the one's she would use.
Eros went behind her, picking the discarded pillows up and placing them on the bed bench they were at previously. Stacked high enough, and once Psyche was comfortable in bed, he had gone to his side of the bed. He had only kept the one's Psyche had chosen and given to him.
Lying beside her, Eros had finally realized just how close they were. Her warmth was near, reaching out to grasp at him— Eros himself was too afraid to pass the invisible line he had drawn, and moved further away.
Rouge colored eyes only seemed to linger on small items; embroidered details, silly strings belonging to the four-poster bed, or even the balcony windows. He seemed far too relaxed, yet not a moment of desire to slumber had come forth. Changing his position, he faced Psyche, seeing the side of her. He could not help the way in which his own mind had gone quiet.
Is she aware of just how much I want to make her comfortable? To ensure she isn't afraid to be intimate with me? A futile thought, considering they had done nothing but talk for minutes. Yet, those minutes and seconds alone felt as if the world itself had gone silent.
Blissfully, Eros had fallen asleep.
Lush and vibrant, phthalo green leaves danced along the wind, waving and moving about as if to show their joy as a Princess and Knight walked down the dirt path. Rays of sunlight streamed through the branches of the, creating a halo around the head of Psyche Viocosmo.
The gentle chirping of the birds was a sound quite pleasing to the ear, the Summer's wind had indeed been good despite the rain the night before. Now it seemed as if nothing had occurred. As if the havoc wrecked before were a mere thing made up by the mind of a child.
“Don't you find it interesting, the very act of the rain the night before, yet it is sunny as if it had never rained at all.” Psyche said, peering over her shoulder and staring at Eros.
It seemed different, this world he was looking at. Psyche dressed in an Empire dress, belly protruding. Looking down at his hand, Eros recognized it, the medium buff skin color that belonged to him. Yet, it felt unfamiliar.
“Ah, Sèllune had written early this morning of how he will be back from visiting the Sun Empire. I assume dealings with the Empress and Emperor of the Venus Empire had gone through.” There was a sense of relief within Psyche's tone.
Looking up, the pink rouge colored eyes stared at her as if unable to make heads or tails of the aftermath of a rainy day.
“Sir Eros, are you all right?”