Please forgive me. Im not good at sex-scenes, but I'll try.
Erik took Meg's hand and led her into the house. He kept his gaze locked on hers, occasionally looking forward to keep them on a straight path. Meg never took her eyes from him. Erik's mind traveled back, when he brought her to the caves not any more than a week ago. When he made the decision that she would be his.
Erik stared down at her, the luscious blonde beauty who was so distracting. Against the back-drop of his green-silk bed-sheets she seemed somehow erotic, wheat-colored hair splayed behind her, skin smooth and honey gold. She was so different than his Chistine, with eyes of blue, and hair of thick mahogany. So much stronger, so much more capable. You couldn't see the delicate Christine smashing a chair to get a big enough club to fight back a wild dog, or practicing until her toes bled and her voice was raw.
Somehow those things seem to come easier to Christine. For the first time in a long time, Erik saw how beauty didn't nessesarily mean a smooth life. Meg was beautiful in the classic, blonde beauty sense, but still she had to work extremly hard in life. All she had to look forward to in life was a career that ended when she was twenty-five, at most, and after that...anything to survive. Be it teaching ballet, sleeping with wealth gentleman, or full-out prostitution.
Why should he deny himself? The thought came suddenly and without warning. Why should he deny himself this creature of light who was; as she showed upstairs; completly willing to lay with a beast...Perfectly willing to give him back something he despretly needed. Erik didn't know quite yet what that something was, but he knew without a doubt that Meg could give it to him. It was something that the highly paid prostitutes couldn't come close to, something he needed before he could completly give himself to the purity of Christine's love.
"I can have you." He told the sleeping form. " I can. Why can't I? You think of me as a man... don't you? I can have you! I will have you."
He took Meg to a room he had prepared before hand, while plotting his revenge. In fact, there on the nightstand; the started written piece of his soul that would end all of this. The room was red, the color Erik found he prefered when his thoughts turned intense, with candles scattered all around and with a giagantic sunken-in bed. It was actually just a ten foot square, just about two feet deep, filled with pillows, silken blankets, velvets, satin, feather-down quilts. All around was a canopy, but made of the thinest silk, golden, so as not to cage him in. The windows, there were five, were shuttered, with thick brocade curtains to block out the hated light; so unkind to Eriks deformity.
Meg's eyes didn't even regester the granduer of the room, her gaze trained only on him. Erik found himself smiling slightly, an entirely new feeling. The only other time he had truly smiled was when he first heard the squeaky suprano of Christine's child-like voice...before the obsession had taken over his mind. Brushing her from his mind, Erik circled Meg's trembling form like a bird of prey. His hands began, of their own accord, to skim the tightened silk around her torso, not touching completly. Meg's eyes shuttered closed for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling, before they opened again, clouded with lust.
Erik positioned himself behind her, slipping his large hands around her small waist. He tilted his head over her shoulder, right above the place where her neck and shoulder met. He felt her shudder, even only touching her with his hands the rest of his body a hairsbreath away. Meg turned her head, ever-so-slightly and let out a bated breath, her moistened lips so close to his. They paused, his dark eyes searching hers, her eyes open, completly without guile. Meg watched as his eyes shuttered closed for a milli-second, before snapping open. One gloved hand captured the vunerable back of her neck and pulled her to him.
Their lips met, closed mouth, once, and eyes staring into one anothers, parted. With a growl that sent waves of incapacitating pleasure down Megs spine he jerked her closer, capturing her lips, bruising them with his kisses. Meg melted, leaning against his lean, hard frame, letting him completly possess her, letting him take over. His other hand, the one not at her neck, slipped and tightened on her hip, pulling her closer against him. Meg lifted a hand and steadied herself, incidently pulling closer to the kiss, by capturing the back of his head.
Erik easily manouvered her around, pressing her front to his. As if to mock him, the thick silk of her gown kept her tantalizing warmth from him. With unsteady fingers he pulled the strings out of the back of the gown, and pulled it down. The ripping sound went unnoticed as she shook it from her arms and it fell to the floor, a puddle that used to be worth more than what she earned in eight month's time. Meg lifted her hands, again to twine about his neck, he gripped her hips tightly and pulled her to him, bruising the flesh there.
Meg played with the back of his hair, sliding one hand to caress his shoulder, back, the left side of his face, anywhere she could reach. Erik, letting out a small chuckle, captured her hand and plundered her mouth. Encouraged by the mews she made, and the arching of her spine, he slid a hand down her back, nipping her bottom lip. She gave a surprised cry and jerked back-
-right into his trap. She fell over his hand and without a fight she was in his arms lifted bridal-style. Erik raised an eyebrown haughtily at her suprised expression. Then he stepped into the sea of pillows and blankets. Gently, softly, he set her down. Meg looked up at him, an unreadable emotion in her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her hand to the right side of his face. Erik froze, but made no move to stop the questing fingers as they traced the edge of the mask, then-
-simply slipped to the back of his neck. She used the leverage to pull herself up and kiss him quietly, a soft smile coming to her lips.
"I trust you Erik. When you want to, you'll show me." She whispered, looking up into his eyes. Erik was dumbstruck for a moment in time, awe-struck at her complete and utter exceptance of what he was right now, not what he might be; under the mask. With a choked sound he crushed her to him, embracing her tightly. He didn't examine the all-consuming emotions that writhed through him at that moment. Was frankly scared to do so. Instead he pulled back and kissed her.
Meg moaned and fell into the kiss, allowing him to arrange her arms, yet again, so trustingly around his neck. He slipped a hand to the back of her neck, fingers tightening as their kiss began to deepen, to build. They danced, they battled, tongue teeth and lips, all physical touch beyond this... pointless. The fire rose, flames dancing higher, and suddenly he had to touch her, to feel that silky skin sink beneath his fingers. Erik lifted a hand to her cheek, sliding down the smooth column of her throat, encouraged by her breathy gasps as his hand found the moudn of her breast.
His fingers flicked, caressed, rolled the supple flesh, until she had abondon his kiss and lay beneath him, moaning for more. Using that hand to hold her limp and writhing form upright, Erik used his other hand on the lonesome flesh on the other side. Meg felt a thousand feelings, a thousand emotions, all boiling down to the simple, uncomplicated fact that this man was the one she wanted to spend her entire life beside, under, above, and behind. She pushed aside the fact that she couldn't have him, he belonged to another. Holly was right. She may not have tommarrow...but she had tonight...
And she had now.
Meg reared up gently, and gave him a mock glare, before nipping his lower lip in a blantant challenge. Abandoning his teasing, Erik slid his hands to her small waist and lifted her body to fit snuggly against his. Meg froze, Erik tensed. The feeling of her warm softness against his hardness all but sent Meg over the edge. He had to stop her from moving, stop that tantalizing writhing before he made a fool of himself.
"Stop." He commanded huskily. Meg stopped her moving, staring helplessly up at him. He made soothing noises, calming her, caressing the side of her face. Slowly she came back to herself, arms wrapped around the very tense Erik. when she was in control, only then, did he allow himself to begin undoing the buttons that lined her front. The corset, he now noticed, was a very naughty black and he made a mental note to enjoy the color against her skin, the very bad girl corset giving her an entirly too appealing and revealing figure in his mind.
But not now. Now he needed to see her, naked and flushed beneath him, waiting for his touch. Waiting for what HE could do to her. Her hands took the job of removing his cape, overcoat and vest, a task he was all too happy to leave to her. Mainly because she took every oportunity to caress and touch the revealed flesh. When he tensed over the thick scars at his back and chest she only clucked her tongue in a frighteningly realistic version of her mother, gave him a grin, and began kissing the marks. He was suddenly very happy he had so many, his fingers forgetting their task momentarily as her hot moist mouth kissed up his chest.
When her talented mouth reached his neck and nipped there gently, he could handle it no more and ripped to corset off her. Meg's eyebrows raised and belatedly he realized he wanted to see her in that.
But oh well. He'd buy her another one. A red one.
Erik looked down at her, but lost his smile. Meg lay on back, hair spread out behind her, cheeks flushed with pleasure, eyes hazy with lust, skin smooth and unblemished, nipples sunset colored and puckered. Drawing in a shaky breath, he traced a hand down her front, between the mounds of her breasts, down to her undergarments. The only thing between him and a complete visual of the blonde beauty. But no worries. They melted away beneath his impatient fingers, shreds falling to collect with the mix of pillows and blankets beneath her. His breath caught.
How had little Nutmeg turned into a goddess? How had he not seen the easily ethereal figure beneath those short delicate costumes? Seen the Wanton beneath the act of innocence, waiting for the right touch.
That mattered naught, for he found her out now. He knew where she was, knew where the secret Divine goddess slept and he would not forget. Megs look became confused, then a little embarrassed. Erik chuckled as she sat up and gently pushed her down.
"You're a goddess. You take my breath away." He reassured her, her eyes finding the truth in his.
"Its hardly fair you know." She said, a tad bit shyly. He raised an eyebrow. Meg shrugged. " Me completly defensless and you only half-dressed."
Letting out a bark of laughter, Erik finished pulling off his ruffled poet shirt, revealiing a chiseled chest and devested himself of his boots, socks and breeches. He rejoined Meg, still blushing, on the bed of silks and velvets. His eyes became serious, and she moistened her lips in anticipation. Erik, a little nervous, although he'd never admit it under pain of torture, slipped a hand between her thighs to test her readiness. Meg, remembering their last little rendevous, closed her eyes and gasped in pleasure as his talented fingers entered her.
Erik pulled away, and positioned himself above her, pausing and looking down. He felt it, the 'something'. It was near, what this girl, no, woman beneath him could give him. He tensed, waiting. Then, as her crystaline eyes met his, Erik joined them as one. Meg let out a sharp cry, half of surprise, half of pain.
He filled her completly, tearing past her maidenhead. The pain flared, then died, leaving her with only a feeling of complete and utter bliss. Pleasure radiated between their joined bodies, Meg gasping below and Erik straining to stay completly still above. Letting lose a stream of curses between clenched teeth, he leaned all his weight on his hands, studying her face beneath him. Their was a pained expression, but that melted and she looked...content.
Megs eyes opened, with her not realizing that they were closed, and she met his. Erik dipped his head and kissed her, a chaste pressing of his lips against hers, which she returned. Then he began moving. A slow rythum of two bodies. A dance as old as time, starting out hesitantly, then going faster, gathering tempo. Music began, her breathy moans and cries, his growls and guttral groans, all joining together and becoming louder. The flames of desire and lust rose higher, white-hot and deliciously burning, encasing thier bodies in heat and light.
And their eyes never parted.
Suddenly the crescendo rose, the flames burst into firecrackers, and they fell over the edge, Meg letting lose a low keening cry and Erik groaning. They came back, his body collapsed over hers covered in a light sheen of sweat. Meg enjoyed the fullness, the contentment of having his gasping breath return to normal above her, his weight on her body, his seed in her womb.
Erik couldn't keep his eyes open. He hadn't slept since she left, and now he felt more content that he ever had in his life. He felt as if he belonged, right here, right now. The thoughts didn't really connect completly, his mind drifting off. Filled with dreams of a blonde haired Aphrodite, holding out her hand, full of complete trust and love.
AN;;Okay. I just feel... happy. I hope this was as good to you as it was to me, and if you flame or review harshly, just remember that I never claimed to be super awesome at lemons. Anyway. About the whole chase-Meg-round-the-world thing? I've changed it. Now its gonna be, something along the lines of have-Meg-with-Erik-and-have-sex-around-the-world. And of course there is gonna be a falling out, when he finishes the play. Cause you can't be happy and write Don Juan. Its impossible. Unless your evil
oh well
Ja ne!