A/N: Hey everyone! So I was watching Phantom last night and the idea for this story just came to me. The plot is pretty much nonexistent...basically it was me trying to make the Phantom feel better. =P Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Phantom of the Opera book/musical/film. Really, if I did do you think I'd be writing fanfiction?
Bienvenue a les Catacombes
He kissed slowly down her body, and took special care in nipping her hips through her gossamer nightdress. He halted abruptly, making her whimper at the loss of contact.
"Don't stop, darling. Please, don't stop." Annabelle whispered.
"I am sorry, my love, but I cannot continue. I am distressing you. I have been in pain too long, I recognize the sounds of a weakening soul."
She smiled kindly at her unsure lover. He had indeed suffered, her Phantom. Living life alone in the catacombs beneath the Opera Populaire, where Annabelle lived as a ballerina, and hiding his distorted face and scarred soul from the world.
Like so many of the ballerinas, she had thought that the Phantom was an apparition, a shade meant to be feared and avoided. When she followed Madame Giry and Raoul down into the depths beneath the Opera house, she learned otherwise.
Initially, she had given herself to the Phantom to buy Christine's freedom. No one deserved to live a life apart from the one they truly loved. Christine was free to live her life with Raoul, and Annabelle was to become the Phantom's newest "Angel". It was an exchange of commodities— essentially, one good for another— pure business. That changed when his cold lips met hers in a harsh but insecure kiss. The moment their lips connected, she knew she would never want another's kiss—his eyes held sadness, pain, and traces of hope. It was the hope that drew her in.
"You are weakening me, my Phantom, but I am not in pain. You have filled me with the most beautiful longing." She gently guided his hand under her nightdress; he drew his hand away sharply, color rising to his cheeks where the mask failed to cover flesh. "Don't pull away, "she reassured him, "I want you to touch me. " She reached out to his hand once again. She guided his impossibly long fingers up her creamy thigh to her soft folds. Unsure of her actions, she tentatively coaxed one of his digits into her soaked heat, gasping at the unfamiliar feeling.
"See, my Phantom. My body aches for you; it is heated with anticipation for your touch, slick in preparation for our union." Annabelle could sense his hesitation. She removed his finger from her, and gently shifted on their shared bed. Slowly and languorously she explored the cavern of her lover's mouth.
He responded to her almost instantly, timidly allowing his tongue to taste and caress her own. She removed her mouth from his and kissed a trail to his ear.
"You have been denied the joys of the flesh for far too long, my love." Annabelle whispered. "I want to become acquainted with your body in the most intimate ways."
She could hear his breathing become more labored and shyly began to trace patterns on his bare chest with her nails.
"I want to make your toes curl under, and your muscles shake from pleasure. I want to memorize every dip and line, taste every inch of your flesh, drink you in as though you were the elixir of life."
One of her hands had traveled to his confined erection and was palming it softly. Annabelle was surprised by her boldness, both in word and deed. Apparently, so was her lover.
"Anna, have you given yourself to another man?" he asked nervously.
"No, my love," she replied honestly, "you are the first and only man who will ever bed me."
He began to thrust unconsciously into her hand, "I do not want to hurt you, my Anna." Her name came out as a moan.
"You won't." she assured.
He looked up at her suddenly, his blue eyes darkened with lust, and tinged with worry, "I am going to hurt you." He whispered.
"No, my darling Ghost, you will give me the greatest pleasure I have ever known."
He looked away from her. "I will cause you pain."
He let out a frustrated cry as Annabelle dipped her head to kiss his neck. In truth, she didn't know how to respond. She remembered the older girls talking in hushed whispers about their escapades with the Opera's many patrons. They had mentioned pain, but not in any real detail. The focus was always on the pleasure, and the gifts that followed. Trying to find the right words, Annabelle simply deduced what she had heard and hoped for the best.
"The pain is only momentary, my love," she whispered against his heated skin. "It is my gift to you, my innocence." Wrapping her arms around her lover's chest Annabelle whispered "Undress me. I want you to see me. Let me give myself to you. Let me bring you the joy which you have been denied so long."
Hesitantly, he turned his head to face her. She gently removed her mouth from his neck as he captured her kiss-swollen lips in his once more. Slowly he began to turn his body, pressing both himself and Annabelle down onto the silken blankets. Annabelle whimpered as her lover explored her mouth.
Slowly his hands began to brush down her neck, her breasts, her hips, her thighs, until he reached the hem of her nightdress. He pulled away, looking down at Annabelle with lust-clouded eyes.
"Are you certain you want this?" he asked breathlessly.
Annabelle smiled and brought her lips to his, "Yes."
He kissed her again with passion and force as he slowly dragged the garment up her body and over her head.
Once the nightdress had been discarded, he took a moment to admire her. He gazed at her with unhindered longing. He adored the way her deep auburn hair fanned out against the dark cushions of his bed, worshiped the flawless pearly skin that was soft and supple; the curve of her breasts, the contours of her neck and stomach, the nest of deep red curls, damp with her arousal, her shapely legs and pretty feet were all beautifully crafted. She was his.
Annabelle blushed slightly under his unwavering gaze, but remained still. Slowly he slid back up her body and dipped his head to kiss her neck. Maddened by her scent, he drew her closer, allowing his tongue to trace over her pulse, tasting her. Annabelle moaned and tilted her head to allow him more access to her throat. He generously took what was offered, kissing all the way from her jaw to the juncture of her shoulder. Licking and sucking the spots he had come to identify as being especially sensitive. All the while Annabelle keened and moaned beneath him, pressing her body against his in need. Just as her lover brought his large hands to her breasts, she stilled him.
Sitting up, she removed his hands from her body and forced him back onto the cushions. Working slowly she kissed his neck and chest, paying his body the same attention he paid hers. Licking his sensitive pulse and sucking his collarbone. He began to pant and growl softly beneath her. Encouraged by his evident arousal, Annabelle continued kissing down to his chest, hairless, save for the dark trail that started just below his navel and led down into his trousers. Her hands moved down to his belt and began to slowly unfasten the buckle. He lifted his hips as she slid his black trousers down and off of him completely.
Annabelle gasped as his erection came into view. It was both beautiful and intimidating. The shaft was long and thick; her stomach tightened and she felt a gush of liquid fire flood her core. Never had the girls at the Opera described this. She was bewitched by it. The majesty of it, the way it stood proud and wanton, all on account of her. She was heady with desire.
His hand wrapped languorously around the shaft and stroked softly, snapping her out of her revere. Annabelle looked into his eyes, her timidity manifesting itself in a pretty blush across her cheeks and nose. She had never witnessed anyone touching themselves so intimately. There was a distinct tightening in her stomach as a strangled moan escaped her lips. She put her hand over her his, watching in amazement as both his large, rough, fist and her soft, delicate, one danced over his manhood. Slowly he slid his hand out from under hers, leaving her in control of his pleasure.
He bucked into her fist as she continued to explore this newfound treasure. Annabelle experimented with varying speeds and pressures, listening carefully to his groans to determine what brought him the most pleasure. Within moments she had established a rhythm, and her Ghost's thrusts were growing steadily faster and more erratic. With a choked moan, he removed her hands from him. Annabelle felt heat rise to her cheeks as she turned her head and looked away, nervous that she had done something wrong. When she felt her lover's gentle touch turning her chin to face him she reluctantly complied.
"You are magnificent." He whispered. Annabelle was both flattered and confused. If he was enjoying himself why did he force her to stop? He answered the question in her eyes. "I want you to feel what I felt. I want you to plunge into the depths of the most carnal pleasure time and again. I want to reach the height of euphoria buried deep inside of you. And I want you to experience that glorious feeling of undoing—that divine chaos—with me." Annabelle was captivated by his words, and sighed softly as another gush of heat flooded her core.
"My Phantom…" she was speechless. She wanted more than anything to experience the wonderful things he was describing to her. She ached for him. Suddenly, swept up by a torrent of primal and feral lust, she pulled him to her. Her lips claimed his in a savage kiss as her hands once again took possession of his cock. He smiled into the kiss, before returning it with just as much force. Lifting her hands from him with a strangled groan, he pushed her back onto the cushions. His hands deftly explored her breasts as he teased her mouth. Driving his tongue in and out of her warm depths, giving her a taste of what was to come.
Suddenly he released her lips and dove to capture one of her hardened nipples between his teeth. He nipped gently before administering soothing licks, allowing his tongue to circle the nub, before sucking it back into the warmth of his mouth. He repeated the process with her other breast, all the while Annabelle whimpered wantonly beneath him. Her hands tangled in his hair, pushing him into her breasts, commanding him to continue. After a moment he drew back and laved each nipple. Slowly he blew cool air across the tortured pebbles of flesh, causing Annabelle to arch straight of the bed, her soaked heat briefly rubbing his bare thigh. He bucked in response, unknowingly administering a delicious pressure to her swollen clit.
Annabelle cried out at the stimulation. She experimentally moved her hips again, grinding herself into his thigh desperate to feel that sensation again. Taking her by the hips, her Phantom guided her ton top of him, so that she was straddling his hips, and grinding herself against his erection. Annabelle moved herself against him desperately. She pushed herself into his erection, sliding herself up and down his shaft, trying to stimulate her heated bundle of nerves. Her lover worked with her thrusting shallowly as his manhood slid along her wet labia.
When he could no longer stand the torture of watching her pleasure herself he flipped her onto her back and took control. Thrusting two slender fingers into her virgin heat, he pumped furiously. Annabelle screamed her appreciation, as he slid his thumb over her tortured clit. His cock twitched with longing at the sounds of her lusty moans.
Without reservation, her lover dipped his head to taste her. He licked up her labia, tasting his salty pre-cum on the soft skin, while his hand continued to thrust steadily in and out of her tightening heat. When his lips reached the little, unfamiliar, bud that was the source of her madness he chuckled. So much insanity for this one little pink bud? Only a woman would put the seat of her pleasure in a tiny hidden parcel. The vibrations of his laughter moved through Annabelle's tortured clit, stimulating it from the inside out; she was undone. With a shuttering cry, she felt her body plunge into an unfamiliar and fantastic state of ecstasy. Her Phantom, likewise, was mesmerized. He watched as her eyes rolled back, her body arching up off of the bed as her walls tightened around his fingers, soaking them in her milky release.
When she had recovered slightly from her orgasm, her lover slid his fingers out of her. Slowly, he brought the soaked digits to his lips and sucked them greedily. She tasted sweet, like peaches. Annabelle watched him taste her, and felt a surge of heat flood her core once again.
It was amazing to her how quickly her body responded after seemingly being to thoroughly spent.
Her Phantom pressed his lips softly against hers. She pressed herself into him and opened her mouth to allow him to deepen the kiss. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it aroused her far more than she could have ever imagined. She began to writhe against her lover, silently asking for more.
He ended the kiss gently, and looked down into her emerald-colored eyes. He could see his lust reflected in her darkened orbs. It thrilled him to know that a woman desired him. For once he was to experience the act of love with someone who wouldn't balk at him, or rush to dress and flee his presence. Smiling softly he spoke to his dearest Angel.
"You have given me the most beautiful gift I have ever received, my Anna," he said. "You have given me your love, your acceptance, your kindness…" He planted a chaste kiss on her lips and pressed his forehead gently against hers. He took a deep breath, taking in her scent, before continuing, "I must have you, Annabelle. Please, give yourself to me, if only for tonight. Let me love you; let me make love to you."
Annabelle bit her full lower lip and gave him a small smile. Shyly, she nodded her head and opened her legs in silent invitation.
Her Phantom positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed into her. She tried to stifle her cry as he broke through her barrier. He stayed still, not daring to move, lest he bring her more pain.
The pain faded quickly, and Annabelle found herself adjusting to the feeling of having him inside her. She felt deliciously full. Looking into her lover's eyes she whispered, "I am yours. Until the end of eternity, I am yours." She gave him a soft kiss, and nodded for him to continue.
He nipped her jaw affectionately and began the rhythmic dance that has fueled generations of lovers. Annabelle gasped and sighed as she felt him pump in and out of her core. She began to move her hips in time to his thrusts, matching his steady pace, and wrapping her legs around his hips.
He could feel her heels on his buttocks, pushing into his flesh, urging him further inside of her. He groaned his pleasure. The next moment her lips were at his ear, her warm breath encouraging him to seek his pleasure. "Do not hold back, my love." The words danced across his consciousness, and with a growl he captured her lips and increased his pace.
Annabelle could feel the pressure building inside her once more, flooding her senses and causing the world around her to dissolve into a swirling torrent of sensations.
Her Phantom bit down roughly on her shoulder as he succumbed to his orgasm. The feel of his hot seed coating her sent her over the edge, and she followed him into ecstasy.
"Erik!" His name fell like a prayer from her lips.
He withdrew from Annabelle's heat, and pulled her close to his body, tangling their limbs in a lover's embrace.
"It has been so long since I have heard my Christian name spoken aloud," he whispered.
Annabelle smiled and laid her head on his chest. "Erik" she said, softly kissing over his heart.
"Erik." She placed a kiss to the hollow of his throat.
"Erik." She whispered kissing each of his cheeks.
"Erik." She gently kissed first his left eye, then his right.
"Erik." She dropped a kiss to the tip of his nose.
"Erik." The name ghosted across his lips, causing him to shiver involuntarily.
"Erik," she said quietly, before she pressed her mouth to his.