Well, I finally finished the fourth one! I had quite the writers block, but here it is. I do hope you enjoy it :D also a big thanks to every review, pure inspiration. Thanks so much to Twilight's-Phantom for the awesome advice!

Chapter 4

It seemed small, but the interior of the cottage and the size of the living room they stepped into were quite large compared to what the outside suggested. Christine curiously peered through the door. It was spacious, not at all cluttered. The ash of a previously lit fire collected in the fireplace. A bookcase, almost too full, covered a complete section of the rooms' wall. Scores upon scores filled the shelves. A desk, on which, Christine assumed, Erik wrote his plays, stood in the corner. Two loveseats, elegantly fabricated, took up the space in the middle of the room.

A sketched picture of herself caught her attention. Inspecting it closely she could make out the room where she used to light a candle in memory of her father. She was listening intently to the voice of an angel, her eyes were closed. She turned to Erik.

"You drew this?" She asked, quite surprised.

"You don't approve of it?" He wasn't sure which way this discussion could go.

"There is so much more left to learn about you, my dear." Christine walked

Christine stared into those deep pools of green and blue. She thought she glimpsed a tiny fraction of pain, hatred. His eyes softened and he took her hand. He gently pressed his lips to her hand then said:

"Christine, please know what you are giving up with me. I cannot force you to leave behind a normal, happy life for me. You will live with a deformation for the rest of your life, an imperfect creature that hides in the dark. I will never be able to offer you a perfect smile and the probability of perfect children is slim. A beauty like you should not be with a monster like me."

He had not once broken eye contact. He had stared into her eyes through each word, half pleading with her to understand his past and to be his future. Erik had had enough of his past; he wanted to build a future. He wanted to feel love, to give love. Christine had shown him that not every person judged accordingly to appearance, but that some people would take the time to seek out the perfect in an imperfect being. Years of hatred had tired him. He wanted to laugh, to live.

Never had Christine considered what might change in her life if she built her future with Erik, the infamous Phantom of the Opera. She hadn't seen her loneliness or isolation from people out there; the people who didn't understand Erik, who couldn't see the true beauty of a person. She would be giving up so much for the love of one man. One man… The only man to ever offer her a life that she wanted, to consider her as a woman and not an accessory. She loved Erik…

She didn't speak, not one word. She stroked his mask tenderly. She hated that mask right now. She wanted to show him exactly how beautiful he was. She didn't feel disgusted at the thought of what lay behind, hidden from the light of day. Christine pressed her lips to Erik's very softly. Erik did not think that he would ever be able to not be surprised by Christine; that he would ever get used to the sensation of her lips on his.

She started pulling of the mask and Erik went stiff. He wanted to pull back; he didn't want the deformations of his face to poison her love for him. Yet, he let Christine pull it off. His eyes were closed by the time she was holding it in her hands. She stared at the mask and wondered how humanity could be so utterly cruel. That the only little piece of freedom came in the form of a mask.

Then she turned and placed the mask on the desk behind her, placing it over her own drawn face. She turned back to Erik, his eyes still closed, and inhaled deeply. She had not yet since taking of the mask looked at him. Erik waited for that moment when his eyes would open and she would be gone. He would look out of the window and she'd be running away from him, not looking back. But what he had anticipated and what happened next were worlds apart.

Christine's hand was resting on his firm chest, the other stroking his left cheek as her lips, so soft and delicate, traced the deformed markings on his face. He refused to open his eyes lest this was a dream that he would be waking up from soon. Instead he revelled in the soft caresses her lips offered him. He had imagined that he might one day be so lucky to find a woman who would tolerate his hideous face. He thought he'd be lucky if a woman would accept the fact that he wore a mask, but this… He never expected a woman to love him for all he was.

The kissing stopped and he felt pressure on his shoulder.

"You are perfect." Christine whispered.

She had said that before, but then she wasn't looking at him. She was seeing him now… And he was perfect. He looked at her exquisite face and lifted a hand to her cheek.

"I need you, Erik."

His hand faltered and altogether his senses heightened. His eyes didn't blink and his breath caught. A warm feeling was slowly numbing him. Christine had a rosy paint colouring her cheeks. She still kept her eyes on him though. Suddenly Erik felt quite unsure of himself. He was on equal grounds with her. Never losing the innocence of passion.

"Are you certain, love? Are you certain you want me for the monster I…"

She kissed him. "You seem to talk too much. I don't love a monster, I love you." She kissed him again, a little longer with a little more passion. "Please, Erik, I need you. I want to show you exactly how much I love you. Once I gave you my mind, I gave you my heart, now I want to give you my body."

Mere moments passed by. Then suddenly Christine was held in two muscled arms, being rushed past doors. Some were open and she glanced the odd piece of furniture, but their end destination was making her stomach turn in knots of excitement, as well as nervousness. Adrenaline and hormones mixed together to make an odd sensation she had never felt before.

Erik walked through the last door in the corridor. A room larger than the rest, white as snow. An enormous bed was positioned against a white painted wall facing the window that would catch every sunset to come. Delicate winter trees, naked from leaves, were painted along the walls. Christine vowed to continue her inspection soon, but at that moment her mind was quite preoccupied. Erik was setting her down on a soft blanket neatly laid put on the bed. Before he had time to let her go she was pulling him down on her. She had a force for someone so frail and small.

They wasted no time in finding each other's lips and a passionate dance began. Her lips curved perfectly into his, her body felt right under his. Christine started tugging Erik's shirt out of his pants. As they caught their breath for a moment, she quickly slipped his shirt off. As Christine's lips moved over his now naked shoulders Erik couldn't shake the constructed feeling he felt. To his utter relieve Christine started undoing his pants. The moment they were loose enough he pulled Christine up. Still kissing her, he started undoing the strings of her dress. He cursed himself for choosing such a complicated dress for her part in his opera.

Her dress finally gave way, to reveal a rather tight and complicated looking corset… He was running out of patience and control. Christine felt the pressure lift of her and opened her eyes. Erik was searching through drawers and finally emerged with a sharp looking knife. He gently turned Christine on her side and cut every damned string holding her corset to her body. And then he suddenly realised that in a few moments Christine would be naked. Not yet completely exposed but naked. He found himself momentarily unsure of his movements, of his next move. But before he could he could dwell on his innocence too much, Christine was pulling him closer again. Her corset was still, disappointingly, stuck between them. He yearned to feel her skin on his, to press his chest to her breasts.

Christine tried to hide her uncertainties behind generous kisses. No man had ever looked on her naked body. She could already feel the heat rise to her cheeks again. Then, ever so sneaky, her corset was pulled from between them. She opened her eyes enough to see Erik tossing it to one side. She felt his muscles move against her skin as he tried to keep all his weight off her. She let her hands roam on his back, digging her nails at some places. Erik let out a pleading moan.

They were learning as they explored each other. Testing boundaries and pushing limits. Neither of them had ever experienced something this intimate. It was an intoxicating sensation that seemed to wrap itself around the very core of their minds. Any clear thoughts was banned, there was only lust and an endearing desperation to give each one to the other. There was love…

Erik was slowly kissing Christine down to her stomach. He started at her neck and slowly left a trail of warm kisses between her breasts -he would spend time on them later- down over her stomach, where he lingered for a while. Christine was lifting her hips up from the bed, begging Erik to remove her underwear; a request he gladly obliged. There she was, completely exposed, and she was beautiful. There was no flaw on her on her body. She was an angel, just pure perfection.

Christine could see the admiration in Erik's eyes. She saw love and lust mixed with something she had never seen before in a man. Desperation? Pride? His eyes were dark with passion. Insecurities finally drove Christine to pull the corner of the blanket up to cover her. Erik noticed her movements, and then gently stopped her by placing his hand on hers.

"You need not worry, my dear. Angels are jealous of the beauty painted before me."

A blush started sneaking its way to her cheeks. She pulled his face closer, past hers, so that she could whisper in his ear.

"I am yours." Then she kissed his deformed half of his face over and over again.

Erik felt a tear escape his bad eye, one that Christine had quickly kissed away.

She pushed Erik off of her so that he was now standing on the floor. She looked at him, biting her lip. Still sitting on the soft white bed, she placed her hands on his chest and started moving down. She stopped when her fingers brushed against the black material of his pants. Slowly his pants started being pulled down gently, her eyes never leaving his. Some part of him wanted to cover him, wanted to keep his pants on, but the more dominating part of him felt pride beyond comparison. He dreamt so many times before of making love to Christine. So many nights wasted dreaming how her hands would feel on his skin, to feel her soft lips on his, to touch her body.

Christine was still looking at him while his pants where sliding down. When her hands felt the skin of his legs she dropped her eyes and suddenly her eyes widened. He seemed so ready for her, so ready and so willing, but also so big.

Erik climbed on Christine again, forcing her to lie back down again. He kissed her softly, very sweetly. She wrapped her hands around his neck and twisted a leg around his. His member rubbed against her and she let out a moan, encouraging Erik.

"Erik… I need you, now."

Erik stared into her eyes, stroking her cheek with his thumb as he entered her. She closed her eyes and threw her head back. He stayed in her for a few moments so she could adjust. He slowly started thrusting in a smooth motion, rocking her almost. Slowly and sensually, he created a rhythm that was soothing. Christine's fingers were gripping the flesh on his back, her nails digging deep. She had wrapped her legs around his waist, making him go deeper.

Erik's mind was racing between complete and utter ecstasy and a deep, dark fear that he might at any moment wake up from a glorious dream. Opening his eyes, realisation slowly seeped through clouded visions. He was making love to Christine; she had finally given herself over to him completely. He laid his head on her cheek and whispered:

"I love you so much."

Hormones and ecstasy flooded every sensation Christine had. Every touch sent waves of sparks through her body, every word or sound uttered made her shiver. Erik was careful and slow, caring and generous. She had given herself to the one man she knew she loved, but she needed release…

"Erik…" Her voice was low and husky, tainted with the brush of seduction. "Give in to me."

Immediately seizing the opportunity he quickened his pace. Slow enough to remain comfortable, but also fast enough to be rewarded with Christine's pleasured moans. While her one hand was still gripping his neck, her other hand was pulling the covers in utter frustration. Erik thrust harder and deeper and faster… They were lost in the bliss of the moment, moaning each other's names.

Erik was sure to let Christine be first, this was her pleasure as much as his. Christine ended with a scream that caused her to lift her back of the bed and push her breasts to his chest. Soon after Erik had his climax, moaning her name as he collapsed on her, being careful not to let his weight crush her.

Heavy breathing and heat filled the room. Erik rolled to the other side of the bed, giving Christine breathing space. She went to stroke the arm that was lying next to her face. He stared affectionately at her. No matter of his horrid face, she loved him. His beauty came not from the surface, but swam beneath like the ocean concealed the wonders within.

She started kissing his fingers, moving to his palm, until he stopped her when she reached his bicep.

"You continue with that trail, dear, and we end up in the same position he were moments ago," he said cupping her small face in his hand, a smile playing on his full lips.

Christine looked up, her eyes were dark. "Would that really be the worst place to find ourselves lost in?"

Before he could answer her question, she placed her lips over his, making the words he was about to speak form a moan in the back of his throat. And their passion play continued…