“There is?”
“Well, it’s more about you actually.”
He shifted. It was dark, but she could tell he was facing her.
“What sort of rumor? What are they saying? Tell me, my love.”
She took a deep breath before answering. “They’re saying that I’m married to a monster.”
She felt bad about giving breath to this ridiculous rumor, but she powered on, unable to stop talking long enough for him to respond. “It’s preposterous, I know. But seeing as it’s me that is married to this supposed monster, and since I’ve never actually seen your face—I mean, I did think I should tell you about it. Because if I were to see you then I would know you weren’t a monster and I could defend you. Only I haven’t so I can’t, so . . . well, I just thought I should mention it to you.”
When she finally stopped babbling, she inhaled deeply.
“I see.”
Her eyes shifted in the dark, making absolutely sure she couldn’t see him. No, it was pitch black. “That’s all you’re going to say—‘I see’?”
He drew her close so their bodies touched, chest against chest, pelvis to pelvis, and snaked a leg between hers. Tucking her head under his chin, he held her close and stroked her hair until he finally spoke. “What do you think? Am I a monster?”
She bit her bottom lip. “No.”
“Then who cares what they think? The only people who matter in this relationship are me and you. Right?”
“R-r-r-ight,” she said, hesitantly.
“And if you don’t believe I’m a monster, who cares what they say?”
“You’re right, of course.”
“What about your other senses? Do they tell you I’m a diabolical beast?” he asked, trailing kisses up her arm until he reached the sweet spot where her shoulder met her the curve of her neck.
“Your touch?” she asked. “Your touch is heavenly.”
“Ah, and your hearing is important.”
“Yes. You don’t snort or snarl like a monster.”
“True. Plus, you need to be able to hear my commands.”
A tingle of desire ran through her. She liked the idea of him ordering her what to do. At least in the bedroom.
“What about taste? May I taste you?” she asked boldly. It was new to her, vocalizing her desires like this.
“Do you want to taste me?”
“Mmhmm,” she managed, the lust inside her building to a fever pitch.
“That can be arranged. Now close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in what I’m going to do to you.”
Without waiting for a response, he shifted his body until he knelt beside her and she felt his erection rub against her cheek. Hungrily, she took him in her mouth and sucked him. The sensation of him filling her mouth brought her great pleasure, and when he ejaculated, it tasted no different than anything she’d experienced before.
After that he toyed with her sex with both his fingers and his tongue until she begged him to take her again. Rolling her onto her side, he opened her legs like scissors, lifted one of her legs then knelt between them, and entered her. The sensation of him thrusting into her from that angle was so unexpected, so exquisite she forgot her concerns completely. He loved her hard and thoroughly that night, taking control of her body and bringing her to the heights of ecstasy.
So much so that the next morning when she felt that sweet soreness between her legs she could only smile to herself. The memory of last night’s escapades brought a shiver of lingering excitement as she relived her climax again in her mind.
For the next week, Psyche put the whole “monster” idea out of her mind. She rode her horses and painted during the day, and loved her husband at night. Her life was blissfully happy. Why mess that up listening to spiteful rumors?
This continued, and she was convinced she could dismiss the “monster” stories as gossip, until one night she had a dream that made her re-think everything.
In the dream a gargantuan creature chased her down the hallways of her mansion. He was massive, and made out of dinosaur bones that dripped blood. His eyes had several pupils and he had a mouth at the center of a spider’s hairy body.
“You know I’m not a monster, right, my dear?” The monster said as it climbed on top of her.
Psyche’s blood ran cold, and she woke up so scared that she couldn’t go back to sleep for the rest of the night.
The breathing of her husband beside her made her stiffen. Her mind told her he was still the incredible Q she adored, but a residual eeriness left over from the dream gave her pause.
After a while she gathered the courage to reach over and touch her beloved husband. She explored him gently with her hand, careful not to wake him. And even though he felt normal, like any other man, she could not convince herself.
Instead, she stayed awake contemplating going to get her personal device to capture an image of him. Or she could light a candle to see what he really looked like.
She might pretend she accidentally turned on a light. If she got caught she could pretend she absentmindedly forgot the rules because she was half asleep.
The more she considered it, the more she decided she needed to get an image so that she could post on social channels. Not only to ease her mind, but to ease the minds of her friends and followers.
She had a wonderful marriage. She just had to prove it to the haters.
But in the dark recesses of her mind she wondered if he could possibly have a dark side she didn’t know about.
It was time she found out the truth once and for all.
Chapter Five
TO SEE HER HUSBAND as he truly was, Psyche secretly ordered a pair of goggles with infrared capabilities and an attached camera. Finally, one night as Q slept peacefully, she snuck out of bed, and put on the goggles in order to observe him while he slept.
Her hands shook as she adjusted the goggles over her eyes, and she prayed he wouldn’t wake up. All she wanted to do was gaze upon him. He looked at her all the time. This was only fair, she told herself. Why shouldn’t she be able to watch him the way he watched her?
Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest, and it sounded like a freight train in her ears as she tiptoed over and stared down at him. She prepared herself for horns, wings, or anything exceptionally terrifying.
But to her absolute shock, what lay before her wasn’t frightening.
Not at all.
Instead lay before her the most gorgeous specimen of a man she’d ever seen. Her hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to cover her gasp.
Silken curls fell around his head like a halo. His skin glowed, and his gorgeous features included a jawline and angular cheeks so expertly carved he could have been a god. His muscles bulged in all the right places, and his broad shoulders whittled down to a trim waist. As her eyes swept over his well-sculpted physique, she realized his handsome face only softened his hard edges and made him all the more attractive. Her gaze drifted to where the bed sheets covered his privates. Just below his waist, one leg strayed outside the covers, and she couldn’t help but notice the well-defined V shape that pointed to his cock.
Yet as intensely masculine as these features were, he had deliciously long eyelashes and a full mouth. That mouth she kissed every night, that body that gave her such pleasure—it was beautiful!
How could she have questioned him being a monster? There was no hint of anything monstrous here, only an extremely handsome man.
Which begged the question—why wasn’t she allowed to see him? Why would he want to hide himself from her? He should be proud of how attractive he is. Puzzled as she was, she also worried that if she didn’t stop looking, she’d get caught. If he woke up now, she would get in big trouble.
So instead of risking that, she decided to take off the night glasses, put them away, and go back to sleep like nothing happened.
But something stopped her.
She couldn’t do it. He was so attractive . . . what if she never got another opportunity to see him again?
<
br /> She needed to take a picture of him, even if she kept it to herself. Something she could look at when they are apart. There was no need to share it on a social channel, she convinced herself. That could be decided later. But for now, she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to capture the image of her stunningly handsome husband.
It was only fair. He looked at her all the time, and there were millions of images of her available if he wanted to see her when they were apart.
She just wanted one.
With that rationalization in her head, Psyche lifted her finger to the top of the frame and pressed a button to capture his image forever.
Flash!
To Psyche’s horror, a blindingly bright beam of light flooded her husband’s face.
His eyes flew open, and he brought the back of his hand in front of his face to shields his eyes.
“Psyche,” he cried. “What are you doing?”
Tearing the googles from her face, she flung them across the room.
But there was no hiding the evidence of her betrayal. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see what you looked like.”
Like magic, the room became illuminated.
“Are you happy now?” he growled.
“No, I mean yes. I don’t know,” she whimpered. “I just don’t understand. Why can I not look at you? You’re incredibly handsome. You’re not a monster at all.”
“I thought we’d covered that,” he said through gritted teeth.
“But I just wanted to see you. You see me all the time. I thought it would be fair.”
He stood and dressed quickly. “That wasn’t your call to make. You didn’t trust me. And now I can’t trust you.”
He turned and left the room.
“You can!” she called, following him down the hallway.
But it was too late.
He was gone.
Chapter Six
THE MORNING AFTER Q left, Psyche woke up with a hole in her heart she’d never experienced before. She was used to waking up without him, but this was not a normal day. She knew he wasn’t coming back. Tonight, he wouldn’t come into their bedroom, take her in his arms and love the world away.
No. She would be alone, and she couldn’t stand it. So far, he hadn’t returned her text messages, and she needed a plan.
She spent the next few days trying to get Pierce to reach out to Q, but he didn’t seem to be having any more luck than she was. There were no hints as to his whereabouts on social channels, but she refused to give up.
As intimidating as it was she knew she was going to have to reach out to Q’s family.
“Pierce, I need you to get word to Q’s mother. Tell her I can’t find him, and that I need to speak with her.”
Pierce raised an eyebrow, but agreed. “Yes, Madame. Right away.”
After she got dressed, she spent the next few hours pacing the floor, waiting for word from Q’s mother.
Finally, Pierce came back and said, “I have spoken with her, and Venus has requested you be teleported to her domain. The invitation is for one hour from now.”
Something inside her stomach turned over. Venus?
Then it made sense. Of course. Q was short for Cupid, and he would be a stunningly handsome man because his mother was the goddess of love. The most beautiful woman in all creation. Was that why he hadn’t wanted her to see him? He hadn’t wanted her to know he was a god?
It didn’t make much sense.
Her mind shifted to Venus. Having her for a mother-in-law was extremely intimidating.
But Psyche told herself Venus would want her son to be happy. That was something all mothers wanted for their children, wasn’t it? Perhaps she could get Aphrodite’s assistance in locating Q and maybe she could help him understand her side of things.
In the meantime, she went back to her dressing room to make sure her makeup was applied as professionally as possible. After all she would be meeting the goddess of love and beauty—her mother-in-law—a time when you really wanted to look your best. Pleased with her appearance, she walked back downstairs and told Pierce she was ready.
“Stand over here, Madame, and I shall send you off.”
Only the very wealthy were equipped for teleporting and Psyche had only done it a few times before. The trips were slightly bumpy, and it was always a little unnerving when you arrived in a location completely different from where you were only moments prior. In the past it had given her a little motion sickness. She prayed that wouldn’t happen this time.
“Wish me luck, Pierce.”
“Good luck, Madame. Have a nice trip.”
With a boom and a flash, Psyche was moving, and it felt like she was traveling through a black hole, being vacuumed into space.
A moment later she stood in a marble hallway, adorned with golden archways, the walls lined with elaborate paintings housed in jeweled frames.
“Hello?” Psyche called, her voice echoing through the cavernous space.
Out of nowhere a handsome young man wearing only a pair of shorts and sandals appeared. He was in excellent physical condition, but his attitude was flippant.
“Follow me,” he said with a bored expression.
Psyche saw no alternative other than to follow him.
After what seemed like a mile, they finally came to the end of the room where a stunningly gorgeous woman sat upon a throne constructed of amethyst crystals. An entourage of beautiful men, each more attractive than the one next to him, milled around, catering to her whims.
“Here you are. You must be the ‘famous’ Psyche,” the goddess said with enough snark that Psyche couldn’t possible miss the jab. Venus had large brown eyes and dark hair that flowed past her waist. Everything about her was exaggerated—her lips, breasts, hips, derriere—they were all plump and sensuous. She wore an emerald colored gown that showed off her enticing figure which was accentuated by a tiny waist and well-toned biceps.
“Yes, I am,” Psyche responded. “Thank you for seeing me. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
The goddess rose from her perch and strode towards Psyche. “Of course. My son should have brought you to me weeks ago. Instead, he’s been hiding you like a dirty little secret.” She touched a perfectly manicured nail to her cheek pensively. “That is something I do not approve of, and I’m sure you don’t appreciate.”
When Psyche said nothing, Venus continued. “My dear, you can’t imagine the stress it has caused me—my son treating me this way—keeping his bride a secret from me. I’m sure this wasn’t your idea—the secrecy—or was it?”
“No! Of course not. I would have loved to have met you. But Q, well, he has certain rules, and I felt it was my duty as his wife to abide by them.”
Venus laughed, a melodious sound that charmed all of her attendants. “Q? Did you hear that boys, isn’t that cute? She calls my boy Q, short for Cupid.”
They looked at her with fresh appreciation as though that was the most delightful thing they’d ever heard. “Ah. Perhaps he is ashamed of you. I’m not sure why he would be, but that doesn’t sound like him—hiding things from his mother. There must be something terribly wrong between the pair of you.”
Suddenly, Psyche felt overwhelmed and began to sob. She tried to be brave and go find Venus in the hopes that she would be able to help, but now it seemed like things with Cupid were worse than she originally thought.
She thought that they loved each other, and that the only problem was that she betrayed his trust by breaking his rule of not looking at him. It never occurred to her that he was hiding her as though she were something he was ashamed of. Maybe he didn’t love her the way she thought he did.
Venus wrapped her arms around Psyche and patted her back. “There, there, dear. Everything will be fine. I will help you.”
“You will?” She looked up at Venus with the first glimmer of hope she’d had since Cupid left her.
“There is something I need you to do for me. That is if you don’t mind, my dear sweet daughter-in-la
w.”
Psyche clasped her hands together, pleading with the goddess. “Anything. If there’s anything I can do . . .”
Venus took a step away and began to pace the floor. “I would not admit this to many people, but seeing as you are family now . . . I have to tell you—I’ve been so stressed lately at my son’s mistreatment of me, that I’ve lost some of my beauty.”
Psyche’s eyes widened. Surely this woman could never have been more beautiful than she was at this moment. “That can’t be. Goddess. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Venus shrugged with false modesty. “It is true, though. But you can help me. You see, there is a serum that Persephone in the underworld has. And I need it to be able to restore the beauty I’ve lost.”
Turning, Venus says, “Retrieving it for me is a dangerous mission and something I would normally never ask of a close member of my family, but seeing as you and Cupid were the cause of my distress . . . and since you say you don’t mind, I would appreciate it so much if you would do that for me, Psyche. In exchange, I’d be happy to put in a word for you with my son. Such a foolish boy, he is sometimes.”
Psyche steeled herself. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
Chapter Seven
THIS COULDN’T BE THE place, Psyche thought. It didn’t look like the kind of place that sold beauty serums. It looked more like the strip clubs detectives in old cop shows visited to interview criminals.
“Can I help you?” A scantily dressed girl holding a tray asked.
“I’m not sure. I think I’m supposed to speak to a Persephone.”
The girl looked at her dubiously then popped her chewing gum before saying, “I’ll check in back.”
Psyche decided if she was going to wait, she might as well do it sitting at the bar having a drink. Her stomach had been feeling a little queasy lately so she opted for some ginger ale.
In the center of the room naked girls gyrated from trapezes. They were actually pretty talented, and more entertaining than girls dancing on poles. It reminded her of a sexy version of those old-time circuses, the kind that weren’t around anymore. Those had gone the way of the tigers and lions and elephants. Nowadays you can only see them on old videos.
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