My Promise to My Four King Mates

The Sun - bath

Minutes pass and it feels like an eternity. I continue to hear the footsteps and all I can think of is my prayers that the door is locked and no one will walk inside while I bathe. But, the door eventually opens and inside steps part of the sun. Golden hair, and burning coal eyes that avoid me. His chest was bare and I couldn't help but scan his torso, my eyes moving over the tanned skin as he stepped inside. His chest was lean and deliciously shaped, not sporting an eight pack, but chiseled and looking like a good place to rest your head when you needed it most.

With slow steps, as if he tried not to scare me, he walked to the bathtub and I pressed my knees harder against my chest, watching him with caution, narrowing my eyes on his figure.

He is silent and I see the way his sharp jaw tenses, as he blinked slowly, like a tired cat does, now fixing his gaze on my face. We sit in silence for what feels like a whole damn year before a half smirk curls on his lips and he walked around the tub, grabbing the small wooden stool and pulling it close to the bathtub, sitting on it, behind me.

"If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it long ago." he speaks, and I felt his hands move to gather my already wet hair, his fingers combing through it and gently tugging my head backwards. "So, stop being a brat and lean back." he added with a smirk I don't have to turn to see.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and leaned my head back slowly, still holding my knees to my chest. He falls silent as he grabs the bottle of shampoo and leans closer, starting to wash my hair, his fingers massaging the shampoo on my scalp, his eyes not straying from what he was doing. The way he does it, makes me understand he has done this before, not just once, and he is very skilled with his fingers and makes sure I slowly relax into his touch.

When my arms unwrap from around my knees and I slowly lean back, my eyes closing, I feel him smirk again as he rinses my hair for the first time. His touch feels oddly familiar and the way his perfume wraps around me, mixing with the herbs and flowers, makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. But where would I have met him? Those luscious soft curls in the color of ripe wheat, those flame like eyes that seemed to look at me as if he wanted to devour me, the way his nostrils flared when he leaned in-

"Cyro~" the name slips from my lips and something within my chest blooms with the sound of the name. The Sun... My sun?

It felt odd to think about it, but feeling it felt warm and fuzzy and if this was not it, then I was simply losing my mind right now.

The man stops and his fingers slip away from my hair. My brows narrowed and I opened my eyes, and turned to look at him. What happened? The room suddenly filled with tension and my whole body tensed too as I watched him over my shoulder.

"Say that again-" the man demanded, his voice low, dry, his face covered by his own hair as he seemed to ponder if he was going or not to hurt me.

I cower in the other end of the tub and eye the towel near me, ready to jump out of the tub if this was going down south right now.

"Say. That. Again!" he demanded again, his voice more determined, filled with a strange animalistic tune, that sends shivers down my body. He watches me from behind the shaggy strands of hair, his hands filled with subs from the shampoo, half leaned over the tub, getting up from the stool , gripping the edge of the tub so hard his knuckles whiten as he eyes me with a frenzied look on his face.

The icy grip of fear that squeezes my heart makes me swallow back whatever word I would be able to speak right now and only slip a bit further into the water.

The blonde man steps into the tub, soaking his pants as if nothing mattered right now, and I feel cornered as he nears me. His hands move on each side of my head, gripping the edge of the glass tub, making me anxious that he will crack it and it will hurt both of us. My nakedness suddenly doesn't matter because it felt as if I was facing my worst enemy right now and nakedness did not matter when death stared right at you. His knees fall slowly on each side of my hips and I'm completely trapped. I hear him breathing, ragged and uneven and I swear he is going to pop a vein from the way he stares at me. My throat goes dry and my chest squeezes when I realize it is too late to get out and away from him.

"Say my name again, misha..." the way he speaks makes my skin prickle and my n*****s harden and I feel my mouth open.

"Cyro~" My voice is small and I see the way his pupils suddenly blow at the sound of my voice. A warm shaggy breath escapes him and a smirk curls on his lips, making him look as if he was on the verge of sanity.

"You remember my name." he whispered in surprise and delight, his forehead resting against mine, making me belt out a low gentle squeal, afraid he was going to hurt me. But he did not, his nose brushed against mine slowly. "You remember me?" he asked, with hope shinning in his eyes and all over his face, while one of his hands moved to cup my cheek and take hold of my face.

Do I remember him? I did remember the warm touch. I do remember the way his hair resembles the sun, but I am not sure I remember him truly, wholy.

I gently shake my head and the smile on his lips fades in a blink of an eye, the shimmer of hope in his eyes dimming and his shoulders slouching, his eyes frenetically searching my face for a sign of a lie. When he did not find one, he backed away, disappointed and absolutely disgusted with himself for scaring the crap out of me.

"That's fine." he whispered as he got up , his pants hanging lower due to the water. He stepped out of the tub, allowing the water to pool on the floor, while he looked at me, with his head leaned to the side. "Remembering my name is a great start." he whispered and for a brief second I think I saw tears in his eyes. But he only offers me a wide smirk and he looks like he is confident again. I think my head is only playing tricks on me. "Food is ready for you. Wash and come out. I'll be waiting to dine with you, my cyra. " he bowed politely as if he was facing a royal , before he turned on his heels and walked away.

The water that dripped from his pants turned to mist as soon as he took another step and by the time he was out of the bathroom, his pants were dry too and I can't help but wonder how did he do that?

As I am alone in the bathroom again, I realize the water had gotten cold and a strange coldness had started to spread into my chest as well. As if his sadness, his disappointment did not sit well with me. Did I hurt him? Did I say something wrong? Why was he so desperately asking me to remember him? Was he someone important?

The way my body reacted to him, the way my pelvis warmed and my thighs pressed together, the way my heart fluttered and the way my skin prickled, told me that he might have been someone quite important for me. My body remembered, but I did not. Maybe I did not need to remember.. Maybe I did not need to know who he was. Maybe I just needed to loosen up and enjoy what he has to offer.

As I washed my hair, my mind couldn't help but replay the way he looked at me. he was starved, and to know he was starving for me felt devilishly delicious. To know I had such power over a man was.... delightful. It tickled something inside I did not even know existed. It was a beast that craved for power. It craved to be worshiped and adored. It missed being consumed and touched with adoration. Was this him? Was this what he was to me? Was he my lover?

I need to find out, test my limits. tests his limits too.