Psyche

Chapter 23

That night, Psyche paced nervously. She knew that the time had come. That Erik had waited long enough for her. He had certainly waited longer than she had expected or that most men would have.

Psyche suppressed a feeling that perhaps Erik was seeking pleasure elsewhere, something that caused a surge of jealousy inside her. She had never thought of herself as a jealous person, but she had come to think of Erik as her husband and she wanted no other person on the receiving end o his affections, emotional or physical.

She looked down at Brownie, who had been following her through all the pacing.

"Love is an entity of the mind, not the body."

The dog wagged her tail, happy to hear his mistress's voice.

"It won't be unpleasant," she continued, "I love him. I don't care if he's the most hideous beast on the outside. He's good on the inside. And he feels handsome to the touch."

Psyche had developed a theory that whatever curse had turned Erik into a terrible beast, it had not affected the shape or feel of his body. It was the truth that she had not touched every part of him - if she consummated the marriage she might discover he had a tail or horns or worse - but she had touched his hands, felt his skin. . .kissed his lips and put her fingers in his hair. Far from feeling like a monster, he felt like a handsome, well-formed young man. Once, to her surprise, she was looking forward to touching and kissing him and doing even more than that.

For the first time in her life, she was actually entertaining erotic feelings toward another person. Before being whisked away from her home, she had thought, with the great encouragement of her sisters, that she was frigid. They had nearly convinced her looks had come at the price of a cold body and mind. But that wasn't true, she thought. She merely was waiting to meet Erik, that is all. There was nothing at all wrong with her heart or her body or indeed her mind.

It was simply that she had been waiting for Erik to awake her body and soul so that she would be ready to do all the things that she had been dreaming about doing with Erik.

Psyche chose the silk pajamas from her wardrobe because their green complimented her hair and skin color. They also made her eyes practically glow, but that was not an issue. She chose a matching silk blindfold, one of the many Erik had provided her and placed it over her eyes. She stretched out on the bed, atop the soft cotton comforter and waited.

After some time, she sensed his presence in the room. She heard his footsteps, and she thought she smelled sandalwood, which was the soap that he used. She felt the bed move slightly as he climbed in next to her.

"Good evening," said Erik.

"Good evening," she replied.

"You're dressed quite beautifully," he said in a whisper.

"Yes," she said, "I can undress if you like."

She blushed at her own suggestion, and he paused. It was a long enough pause that she feared he would laugh or reject her. He didn't.

"Are you saying you wish to consummate our marriage?" he asked, and she felt his hand on her thigh. She knew him well enough by now to sense a hint of amusement in his voice.

She sat up straight, throwing his hand off her thigh and resisting the urge to whip off the blindfold.

"If you'd rather not and continue your habit of talking. . .I suppose that could continue. After all, you are an immortal. What does it matter if I am old and grey when you finally decide the time is right."

She sensed him sitting up next to her, and his arm snaked around her waist.

"No," he said, "I've been waiting for the right moment, but in my foolishness, I expected that it would be me who would determine the right moment, not you. I underestimated you." He spoke the last sentence quite softly, and she started to feel nervous again.