And the night after that, and the night after that, I met him and yielded with pleasure to his attentions. And finally he left me untied, and slept with his arms draped only loosely around me. When he was asleep I slipped out of bed and tried the door, relieved to find it unlocked.
I opened the door, but it was dark in the corridor now, and it didn’t cast enough light on the bed to reveal him. So I crept out and came back with a candle. I cupped a hand around the dancing flame, slipping into the room and approaching the bed.
I almost dropped the candle when I saw him.
He wasn’t a demon. He was a god. Statuesque and impossibly alluring, even with his face lax and unconscious. Honeyed curls slipped over his forehead. His jawline was straight, masculine. His body was well-muscled and proportioned with athletic grace. He was tangled up in the covers, the sheets twining between his legs and half-covering his swelling chest.
He looked human, except for the wings that arched out from his back. I cocked my head, gazing at the strange appendages, trying to puzzle out what it meant. But leaning up against the bedpost was his quiver – the arrows peaked with needle points.
It was obvious, but even so I could scarcely believe it. Cupid. I cringed, ashamed of my poor treatment. I’d thought of him as some demon, all this time. And he knew it.
I glanced over at the arrows again. He hadn’t poisoned me with his arrows. I wanted him, anyway. But wouldn’t it be even better, with the love poison? Wouldn’t it prove my loyalty, if I were to…
I reached for an arrow, and nicked my finger. And then I filled my eyes with the sight of him again. I stepped forward, tugging back the blankets, baring his naked form. The sight was no longer merely beautiful or alluring. It was impossible to resist. I licked my lips, glancing from his chest down to the thick column of his cock, dark with blood. And as I leaned over him, I tipped the candle.
A drop of wax plummeted, hitting his chest. His eyes snapped open.