A/N: Everyone has been talking about kinky E/C so...here's my shot at it! Enjoy. Also, I'm so sorry.

Thank you to madiamazing and Mlle Bree for helping me edit this mess.

Good Girl

His posture was relaxed and comfortable as he leaned back in his chair in front of the fire place, a glass of amber colored liquor in his hand. His wife stood leaning against the doorway, just watching her husband from across the room. She never grew tired of just watching him, it seemed. The more she watched him, the more she realized how much she loved him, now much she needed him...how much she lusted for him.

"Christine, it is not polite to linger in doorways." His velvet voice sounded in her ear, sending a delighted shiver down her spine. She watched as he leaned forward, turning his head and torso to look at her, his golden eyes seeming to darken as they landed on her. She bit her lip, noticing how the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his pale chest and the sparse, dark hair there. He wore no mask, as expected. He never wore one when they were home alone together.

"Come here Christine." He beckoned to her with one long finger, and the carpet was warm under her bare feet as she slowly went to him, his warm, calloused hand taking hers. He pulled her into his lap, enclosing his arms around her, one around her waist and the other over her silk clad thighs. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne that never failed to drive her mad.

"I thought you were asleep," he murmured as she nuzzled him.

She sighed contently. "I have trouble sleeping when you're not next to me, Erik. You know this," she said while absent mindedly fiddling with the buttons of his dress shirt. He let out a low chuckle that she felt vibrate through his chest, sending a warmth low in her belly. "Why do you laugh at me?" She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"Because of how innocent and childish you sound," he purred, moving in to kiss her, but before he could, she pulled away.

"I am not a child! Do not call me childish!" she retorted impishly, making a smirk tug at his lips.

"Of course. I am very well aware that you are no longer a…child." His voice was thick with desire, his thumb now stroking her waist through the thin fabric of her nightgown as his gaze drifted over her, lingering at her breasts and pelvis. "However…no matter how old you may get, you will always be my good girl." Then, without realization, she whimpered.

It had been so long since he had called her that. Too long.

"Christine," he began, his voice so warm that her heart fluttered at the sound. "You are such a good girl. Have I told you that recently?" His cold hand crept under the hem of her nightgown, beginning to massage the inside of her thighs, causing her to squeeze his hand between them. He placed a soft kiss to her forehead before nudging her head to the side, and then nuzzling her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin.

"I asked you a question, Christine," he warned, and then gently nipped at her neck.

She whimpered. "No, you haven't," she whispered as the hand on her waist began trailing up her torso towards her breast. He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, hardening it with his magic touch, and she moaned quietly.

"Shhh, Christine. You are such a good girl. You are my good girl," he whispered in her ear. "And good girls deserve to be rewarded." His thumb caught onto her waistband, tugging slightly but left it to travel lower. She shuddered as his index finger brushed over her panties, and she squirmed her hips, desperate for more of his touch. "Do you want to be rewarded, my love?"

She nodded heavily, and his hand left her breast, gently grasping her jaw and pulling her mouth towards his. The kiss was gentle at first, his thin, malformed lips soft and surprisingly warm against hers. He tugged at the straps of her nightgown and yanked down the neckline, exposing her breasts to the warm air created by the fire before them.

"So perfect, my Christine," he purred, gently running his palm over her nipples, hardening them even more as she moaned. He grasped one breast fully, trapping her nipple between his long fingers and pinching slightly. She whimpered his name, and his thumb rubbed torturous circles around it, and then flicking it grimly.

"Erik...please…" she moaned, feeling the pool of wetness between her legs.

"Shhh," he hushed her. "Let your Erik reward you for being such a good girl." He slowly leaned forward, bending his head down, and ran his warm tongue over her hardened nipple. She felt rather than heard his groan. "So sweet, my Christine." He positioned her until she was straddling him, and with a thrill she felt his erection throbbing through his dress pants, brushing against her most intimate area. Her face instantly flushed, and of course he noticed.

"Do you feel how hard I am for you, Christine?" he whispered, taking her hand and gently running it over the bulge, a low moan sounding from deep in his throat at the contact. That voice cause a hot curling deep in her belly. Oh, that voice could push her to climax too easily. Unable to control herself, she began to grind her center against him in desperate need of friction.

"Mmm, so desperate for your Erik, aren't we, my Christine?" And then he was suckling at her breasts like a starved man, his hands trailing up her things and gripping at the skimpy nightgown he had bought for her. His calloused hands yanked the garment up her body, flinging it off and leaving her exposed to his hungry gaze. His low growl set her aching. "Perfection."

She cried out as he teasingly lapped at her nipple again, and she tangled her fingers into his silky black hair, pulling so that he would stop his wicked attack. When he finally detached himself from her nipple and stared up at her, his eyes were darkened with lust.

"Stand up," he demanded.

She bit her lip, ignoring his order and moving in to kiss him. Before their lips could touch, however, she was greeted with a hard smack to her bottom. She cried out, but she wasn't sure whether it was from pain or arousal.

"Stand. Up." He repeated more firmly, and she obeyed with a flush. When she was standing before him, he simply looked at her, raking his eyes over her and taking in every inch of her body, as he often liked to do. Sometimes it seemed like they got as much pleasure from looking at each other as they did when making love.

"Take your panties off." She moved quickly, eager to shed her underwear, knowing how badly she needed Erik. "Slowly Christine!" he snapped and stood, walking backwards to the cabinet where he kept his scotch. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her thong and began sliding it over her ass and down her legs slowly, flushing with the feel of how wet the panties were from her arousal. When Erik finished pouring himself his drink, somehow never taking his eyes off of her, he approached slowly, stopping when he was just behind her. She shuddered when she felt his rough hand softly rub over her ass, giving the flesh a soft squeeze that made her whimper.

"Sit on the couch and spread your legs," he said, and before she could respond he spanked her ass again. She gasped and whirled to face him, and, deciding to defy him yet again, she brought her arm around his neck and drew his lips to her. Their lips touched, but Erik did not kiss her back. Instead, he roughly gripped her jaw and yanked her face back from his.

"Good girls do what Erik says," he growled through clenched teeth. "Do you still want your reward? I could punish you just as easily, Christine Daae. Is that what you want?" She blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He huffed in impatience. "Shake your pretty little head if you don't want to be punished."

Does she want to be punished?

Eventually, she shook her head, and he released his tight grip of her face. She made her way over to the couch, sitting at the center and seductively running her hands down her thighs. She spread her legs boldly, exposing her drenched core to him and biting her lip. Erik only chuckled darkly as he gulped down the rest of his drink and set the glass down, coming to stand between her legs. She shivered as he bent down, getting on his knees before her.

"Regardez comment mouillez votre jolie petite chatte est pour moi ma douce Christine." He ran his rough hands up and down her thighs. One hand grabbed her breast and squeezed her nipples gently making her arch towards him even more. The other hand trailed from her knee to the hot wetness that she yearned for him to touch.

"You only ever get this wet for me, my Christine," he said, leaning over and softly kissing her stomach. "No other man can do this to you, my love." Another kiss was placed, lower. "You are mine, and mine alone…" he growled as he gently brushed over her opening, making her hips buck into his hands.

"Only you Erik," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"Good girl." Quickly his tongue darted out, teasingly licking down the lips of her sex. A gasp echoed in the room as she opened her eyes to see him staring at her, his dark amber eyes making her shiver deep in her core. "Oh, my Christine. How sweet you are…" He reached up and grazed his knuckles over the throbbing pearl of nerves that make her moan and mewl with the smallest touch.

"Erik… touch me…" She moaned rolling her hips towards him in need of contact.

"What do you say, little one?" he teased her, making her beg for him.

"Please!" she cried out, and suddenly his lips closed over her clit. His tongue lapped over her, making her squirm, scream, and thrust her hips even closer to him. Her chest heaved, trying to breathe through his licking, sucking, and kisses. She grasped his swept back dark hair, only to have a large hand enclose her small wrist and pin it to her side.

"God, Erik, please!" The response was simply a single long digit entering her, making her yelp. She could feel his finger bend, and slowly begin stroking her. She felt her toes curl with the pleasure of it and she let out a heady moan. He forced a second finger inside of her and, emboldened by her cry he began to thrust his fingers inside of her, his whole arm moving with the force of it. She could feel it deep in her stomach; the tightening, clenching muscles begging for release. He must have felt it too; his fingers curled upwards. Each thrust of his fingers brushed against that spot that made her cry out for him, and she was mindless, completely helpless as her head fell back against the couch, spasming around his fingers as she came.

"Fuck…" she whispered in awe, only to be greeted with a sharp smack to her bottom. She looked up at him, as he was now standing over her, leaning over her frame and placing sinewy arms on either side of her head.

"Good girls do not curse. "Ever." She bit her lip, smriking like the little minx she was.

She could hear how ragged his breathing was, and see his cock straining to be released from his dress pants. She let out a small laugh only to have his hand then roughly grasp her jaw, leaving their faces just centimeters apart.

"Am I understood?" His eyebrow rose, almost as if he were just asking her to defy him.

"Yes, Erik," she whispered, reaching up and pulling his lips to hers. She could still taste herself on him. With his hand on her jaw, he opened her mouth and his tounge took dominance over their heated kiss. Then, before she could realize what was happening, Erik had picked her up and made it so that she was now straddling him on the couch.

"I want you," he husked as he ground his hips against hers. His cock was rubbing against her still slick sex.

"No. Not yet-"

"What do you mean not yet?" His quiet growl in her ear was impatient. "What do you want, Christine?"

She leaned back, and her face flushed ever more. "I don't know… Good girls don't…. I…" She couldn't seem to formulate a sentence, she only could look down.

"Christine, tell me," he whispered, more gently this time. She then looked up like a scared child, bringing both of her hands up to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them. His pale, scarred, muscular torso was exposed to the dim lighting of the room. She ran her hands along him, his skin soft and warm, the hairs of his chest tickling her palm. He then abruptly leaned forward and removed the shirt completely, while stealing an impatient kiss from her.

Her cheeks heated even more, wondering how after a year marriage he still managed to make her flush.

She continued her path downward, over the line of hair that continued into his the waistband of his pants, until her hands met with the cool metal of his belt buckle. She looked up at him, as if asking permission.

"Go ahead," he rasped, as her hands shakily undid the belt buckle. She slowly climbed off of his lap, making sure to run her hand over the straining bulge once again, standing between his long, strong legs.

She grasped the edges of his waistband and boxers, and he understood the message, lifting his hips up for her as she began to tug the garments down his long legs, freeing him. She glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, and there was a long moment before he spoke.

"Suck."

She sank down, running her tongue gently over the head of his erection. His breath caught and, encouraged, she pressed her tongue flat against the thick vein on the underside of his cock, finally closing her lips around him. He gasped, his hand threading tightly through her hair, and she sank down, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could, bracing her hands on the cushions beside his hips as she set a slow pace. She never broke eye contact with him, swirling her tongue as she went and taking him deeper into her throat with each bob of her head. He watched her with parted lips and heavy breaths, and when she hummed in appreciation at the taste of him, his eyes clenched shut in frustration.

"Stop," he groaned, and she didn't. Suddenly her hair was tugged, and she was forced away from him, and he glared into her eyes. "Stop. Now," he growled. She smirked, knowing if she had continued for much longer he would have finished in her mouth. She wouldn't have minded, though…

"Come here." He leaned back, beckoning her with one finger. Pushing herself up, she stood there, letting him just stare at her. He leaned forward again, reaching up, taking a tendril of her curls and twirling it about his finger.

"You are so beautiful," he rasped, completely forgetting his train of thought of rewarding her for being his 'good girl'. She was simply his Christine, he did not need her to be any more, or any less. He wrapped a strong arm around her and pulled her closer by the waist. He stared into her deep blue eyes, hoping she could see all of the love and adoration in the world that he held in his.

"I want you," he whispered, bringing his head forward and softly kissing her stomach. She brought her hands into his thick black hair, now with a few strands falling in front of his face. Her fingers grasped the loose strands, smoothing them back into place so she could better see his face. His beautiful, horrid face.

"I need you," she whispered back, leaning down and pressing her lips to his. This time, there was no battle for dominance, only love and appreciation between the two of them.

Erik pulled her into his lap until she straddled him once again, kneeling on either side of his narrow hips. He snaked a hand in between them, finding her still slic, hot, waiting for him. She moaned into his kiss, "Erik… please…"

That was all he needed to hear before placing the tip of his cock at her entrance, and she eased herself down onto him, sighing in pleasure. He too elicited a groan when Christine began rocking her hips, his grip on her hips tightening. He met her actions, bucking his hips upwards and meeting her thrusts with equal force. He developed a steady rhythm quickly, filling her, making her cry out his name in ecstasy. He then held her still, making his hips be the ones to snap against hers.

"Christine," he moaned, burying his face into the crook of her neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks on her. Mine… She is mine…

Christine tangled her hands into his hair and tugged his face from her neck, quickly attaching her lips to his. Their moans, heavy breaths, the rasp of skin on skin, and the crackle of fire were the only sounds filling the room.

When at last they came apart together, they cried out each other's name like a prayer, clinging to one another for dear life.

Breathless, tired, and warm, Erik holding her flush against him, he lied across the couch, pulling Christine on top of him. His chest still heaved, trying to regulate his heart, breaths, and pulse.

Christine pulled herself closer to him, nuzzling her head under his neck. She could hear the rapid beat of his heart, feel the perspiration on his chest, and she smiled to herself, knowing she had pleased her husband. She loved the feeling of being gathered in his arms, and still feeling the warmth of him dripping down her thighs, making her feel loved, protected, and wanted.

"Am I still a good girl?" she mumbled tiredly, and he could hear the obvious smile on her lips. He ran his hands up and down the small of her back, not sure if he was soothing him or her.

"You will always be…" he sucked in a deep breath, pulling her up to face him and planting a sloppy kiss on her parted lips, "my good girl."