Now, listen to me, Christine. You've got to stay here until the effects of the potion have passed, and I'm sure they'll pass. If I'd got to tie you up to keep you safe from yourself—from me- I'll do it," Erik said through gritted teeth.
Christine thought quickly; she'd have to be clever now, clever and crafty, she might have only a few seconds. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against him so that they spilled over the top of the lace and silk corset, and she laughed when she saw that his eyes went to them as if he'd been hypnotized. "Yes, yes, Erik, you could tie me up if you wanted, would you like to do that? Is that the sort of thing you like? Think of me naked and tied to your bed, Erik, spread wide for you, open, ready, helpless, I couldn't stop you, I'd be helpless against whatever you wanted to do to me, but I wouldn't want to stop you, because you could do anything you liked, have me any way you wanted—you can't tell me you don't want me like that—"
She could hear how heavy his breathing had become, how raspy. "You've got to stop this," he said hoarsely. "Christine. Stop. Now. I need you to help me. Please child. You've got to. I know, I know, the potion… God only knows how it ended up in my kitchen cabinet… but you've got to reach deep inside yourself and somehow find the strength…"
"Deep inside," whispered Christine. "Yes. Yes, I want you deep inside me, Erik."
"This is getting worse by the second," groaned Erik. "You don't even know what any of this means Christine, you're still just a child. An innocent little child and you've got to stop this now, this instant, this second, or it's going to be too late—"He lunged forwards; whether to restrain her, or because he had finally lost control despite his words, she never knew. She laughed hysterically, leaning backwards, using the momentum of his own movement to pull him down onto her, opening her legs so that he slipped between them. Erik stumbled and lost his balance; his hips slammed against her lower body, and his mouth crashed into hers. He gasped. She arched her back, and her entire body pressed up against his, moulding itself to him, and finally she felt how much he really wanted her, his huge, rock-hard arousal stabbing between her legs, greedy, throbbing, demanding, separated from her desperate need by no more than a few thin layers of cloth.
"You want me!" she said triumphantly. "You do, you do, I can feel it! You're so big, Erik—so hard, so ready for me—" She slid up his length, then down again, and she heard his breath hiss through his teeth. "Get this inside me, now, hurry!"
He took a deep, deep breath. Then he stepped back from her. "No! Christine, I won't do this to you! You don't know what you're saying. You'd hate me afterwards, you'd hate yourself, I won't do it!"
"I wouldn't hate you, I wouldn't blame you," she said eagerly. "I swear I wouldn't, Erik! You want to, don't you? Yes, yes, I can tell you do. Oh, what a perfectly beautiful cock you must have, Erik. I always suspected." She sighed blissfully. "Can't I get a better look?"
"Oh, blast," he muttered, trying to pull back from her. She wriggled under him. He leaned on her harder to keep her from getting away; she struggled harder; her breath came faster, and so did his, Christine suddenly got her hands free, and she wound them around his back. He tried to get away from her at first, but she was everywhere, kissing his mouth, his neck, his chest, her hands tearing his shirt open, and she moaned as she touched his naked chest for the first time. He groaned in despair.
"Don't do this," he begged her, trying to grab her hands and hold them still. "Christine, you don't know what you're doing. Can't you just believe me? You don't know what sort of fire you're playing with. You have no idea, the time I've spent working for control around you, the years I've had to do it—"
She threw her head back and laughed. Then she threw the bathrobe open, so quickly that he couldn't stop her. Christine's nearly-naked chest gleamed in the faint light from the window. She thrust her firm, round breasts forward in the silk and lace chemise until they filled Erik's hands.
"Take this off me," she said. "I have to know what it feels like when you squeeze my nipples, Erik, I want to put your mouth on them, suck them, bite them, please, please—"
Erik swore violently but did not move back from her; he only pulled his hands away and then clenched them into fists so tightly that the knuckles looked as if they were about to burst through the skin.
"You can't tell me that you don't want me," she insisted.
"Why?" he ground out between gritted teeth. "Because I'm hard for you, because I'm ready to burst, do you think any of that proves anything, do you think any man would feel any differently if you were shaking your tits at him like that and begging him to rip your clothes off and bite your nipples and- "
"No!" she yelled. "Because you told me that you touched yourself and thought about me every single night in your bed for five bloody years, Erik. You wanted me then. So now, now that you can have me, why don't you?"
He recoiled from her violently, and looked at her as if she had escaped from all of his worst nightmares. "How did you know that?" he whispered. "How did you—you can't know! You can't possibly know! I've never told anyone—"
She jumped down from the sink and stalked towards him as he backed away from her. "I saw you, Erik. I saw you as you were during your past five years"
"No, that's not possible—" He kept moving back.
"And that's what you said to me! You wanted me, you did!"
Erik gave her one terrified look. Then he ran for his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Christine could hear the rattling of the lock, and his cursing. She laughed triumphantly. His key was in the bathroom along with hers, and he had no way to keep her out. She threw the door open and tackled Erik to the bed with one flying leap. It was a beautiful bed, she saw fleetingly. King-sized at least, with a dark hand-rubbed oak four-poster canopy design and thick green coverlets. Mmm. Hand-rubbed. That gives me some ideas.
"Why are you trying to fight me?" she purred. "Erik, I know that you want me. I know you want to touch these." She leaned down and brushed her breasts lightly across his face so that the lace-tipped nipples just touched his lips. Her hands were holding his down to the bed, but she couldn't help noticing that he didn't seem to be trying very hard to get away.
"Christine…. " he groaned. "Christine, can't you just try to understand, if there's any capacity for rational thought left in that sex-crazed brain of yours…"
"You say that like it's a bad thing," said Christine.
"Listen to me, please… you only want this, you only want me, because of the potion. I have to be blunt to get through to you, so I will be. You'd have any man right now," Erik said harshly, although his voice was trembling so hard that he could barely get the words out. "I could shove any man on earth in front of you and you'd beg him to fuck you just as relentlessly as you're begging me. So if we do this, you'll regret it as long as you live—"
"Oh, are we back to that again?" asked Christine. "I wouldn't regret it at all. And you wouldn't either, Erik, would you?" She undulated her hips against his, and she smiled at the proof that Erik had to want her just as desperately as she wanted him, no matter what he was saying.
"Christine!" Erik bit his lower lip until she saw a bead of blood run down his chin. "Stop that! Stop it! Stop it now, or I'll—"
"Or you'll what?" demanded Christine. "Or you'll do what you wanted to do with me when you where thirty four?"
Erik froze. Something about his expression changed. Christine didn't know what it was, but he suddenly looked different from the way he had at any time since she'd first seen face behind the mirror. What has changed? Does he look older? Yes… yes, I think that's it. And suddenly, strangely, Christine felt a little frightened. She loosened her hold on his hands.
He looked up at her. Even though she was still sitting on his chest, she had the distinct feeling that their roles had been reversed without her knowing quite how it had happened. "I suppose my thirty four year old self was strolling down the street as well, as a result of that potion you stole from Meg?" Erik asked softly. "And he had a few tales to tell about what happened that year?"
"Well, uh… yes," said Christine falteringly.
"What exactly did he say?"
"Uh…"
"Answer me, Christine."
Something about his voice was almost frightening her. She was afraid of what would happen if she disobeyed him; there was something in his eyes that had changed, had become darker, filled with secrets from the past, perhaps. She didn't know what this Erik might do to her. And yet… and yet, she didn't want him any less. Christine flushed red as she realized this, looking at him.
"You told me that you wanted me to be to you what I was to Raoul that year," she said. "You said that if I had been, if I'd just stretched my hand out to you, then you might not have fallen into darkness."
"Ah," said Erik. "Ah. I thought so." And for a moment, he looked very sad. Then his gaze sharpened again. "Did I tell you anything else?"
"No," said Christine.
"Really," said Erik. He seemed to think for a moment. Then he rolled her off him and sat up, bringing his knees up and resting his chin on them, looking into the distance.
Christine groaned softly in despair. Unfilled desire was still throbbing through her. She still would have done anything to get Erik to fuck her. But the project didn't seem to be going very well at the moment. She reached out her hand hesitantly. "Erik," she said, feeling her way, "you wanted me that year, didn't you?"
"Of course I did," he muttered.
"Well… you can have me now. You can have now what you wanted then. So why don't you take me now?"
"Because…" He swallowed thickly. "You don't know, Christine, you don't know what was really going on that year."
"I don't understand," she said impatiently. "But Erik, it doesn't matter! You want me now, and I know it, so why don't you—"
He turned to her suddenly. "What if I'd told you that year that I'd wanted you? Would you have come to me then? Would you have offered to me what you're offering now?"
"I—uh—" she fumbled. Oh, God, what now? If she lied, he'd know it; she could tell that. And she couldn't tell the truth, because she would never have done anything with Erik then, she was sure of it. "Uh—it's not as if you asked me—"
"Oh, I see!" said Erik. "So all that I ever needed to do was to ask you to fall into bed with me, Christine. Nice to know that it would have been so easy."
"Of course it wouldn't have been!" she said. "All right, look, I'm not going to lie to you, all right? No. I wouldn't have done anything with you back then, you know that. But that was then, and this is now, and now, I want you, so why don't you?"
"So what's changed?" asked Erik, chuckling mirthlessly. "Besides the potion, that is?"
Oh. Shite, I've got to think of something. And yet… and yet…. "Because now I know that you are a corporeal man!" She gyrated her hips once more to make her point. "I had thought you an angel for so many years and yet now I know you are a living breathing man who I have cared about more than anyone else. Erik, I do think you've changed," said Christine, "but I don't think you were nearly as bad as you make yourself out to be even then. You were caught up in something bigger than yourself, don't you see? Yes, I know—you were forced to kneel before the shah, and to take the Mark. But you never would have done anything truly wrong of your own free will. I simply don't believe that."
"Then you're giving me a lot more credit than I deserve." Erik turned his face away from her so that she could barely see his profile half hidden by the mask. "You don't know… but you have to. You have to. Do you know what really happened?" he demanded. "No, of course you don't, because nobody knows, but I'm going to tell you, Christine, I'm going to tell you what I swore I would never tell anyone. Once, the Shahs men traced me here. It was two, maybe three years ago. They threatened me Christine, they told me if I did not obey they would take the thing I wanted most. You. I was supposed to let the Thieves into my theatre and open the safe for them.
"But you did not do it Erik, so I dont see what-" She interrupted.
"Any of the hundreds living here could have been hurt," continued Erik, as if he hadn't heard her. "Nobody was supposed to be, that wasn't part of the plan; I didn't know that filth Khaled would be there, I swear I didn't, Christine, I didn't know he was going to hurt your friend, but I should have known that anything at all could happen, I suppose. But what nobody knew was that you were supposed to be captured."
"Captured?" echoed Christine.
"Yes. And kept safe, kept of the way, unhurt—"
"So you were only trying to save me—"
"Yes, save you for myself Christine, don't you see? Don't you understand? It was part of the deal. The shah knew how desperately I wanted out of it, by the end; he knew he was losing me, so he threw you in, as well. You were going to be my prize. My reward. You can't imagine how well this wretched cave is shielded by traps and mazes; there'd be no hope of rescue once you were there. You'd have been delivered directly to my rooms. To my bed, Christine." His eyes were fixed on hers. "And then I could have done anything I liked to you, as much as I liked, as long as I liked, as much as I wanted, and there wouldn't have been one damn thing you could have done to stop me. Now, do you still think there's any good in me?"
"But you didn't do it," Christine said weakly.
"Only because the Persians never made it as far as the rooms" said Erik. His voice had taken on a hard note and his eyes flashed iron.
Christine shook her head. "I don't believe it. You still wouldn't have done it."
"How do you know what I would have done?" Erik asked bitterly. "How do I know? All I knew was that I could never, ever have you any other way. Do you know, do you have any idea, how many times I dreamed of you lying in my bed, writhing under me, moaning my name, ready for me—"
"Like this?" asked Christine, wriggling.
"Yes, just like that, but not because you wanted to be there. Because you'd be my prisoner, my unwilling prisoner," said Erik, his voice harsh. "You'd never give yourself to me of your own free will, Christine."
"But I will now, Erik!" she cried.
"No," he said. "No."
Christine fell back to the bed, defeated. Something sharp jabbed her in the side. For a second, she couldn't imagine what it was. Then she knew. My key. It's not still in the bathroom after all. I must've tucked it into the robe without thinking. Oh God, I have a Key! And she knew that she had just one chance. She reared up suddenly, like a cobra, grabbed Erik by the neck, and pulled him on top of her. Then she yanked the key out and pressed its tip against his chest. His eyes widened.
"That's not your key," he said in a strange voice.
Christine looked down at it. He was right.
" He looked into her eyes. "Would you really use it on me, Christine?"
She couldn't answer him.
"Have I really driven you to this?"
She couldn't answer that, either.
He grabbed his key from Christine's hand and threw it to the floor with one violent movement and bent his head down so that his face was only a couple of inches from hers. "Tell me again what you want to me to do to you, Christine."
"I want you to take me," she whispered.
"Louder," he said. "I can barely hear you."
"I—I—" He was really beginning to frighten her, but not enough to beat back the desperate, burning need in her body.
"Come on. You were loud enough a few minutes ago. Speak up, Christine."
"I want you to take me!" she yelled.
He groaned savagely, and then something in his face tensed, and changed, and broke, broke completely and utterly, became savage and wild, and his eyes darkened to a fiery molten silver, and he seized Christine's hands and pinned them down to the coverlet so hard that she gasped.
"You win," he said. "I give up. I should never have tried to be anything more than what I am, and there is nothing good in me, Christine, no matter what I thought. So you're going to get your wish. I'm going to do what you asked me for. I'm going to fuck you." She drew in her breath in shock and delight and relief, and opened her mouth to speak, but he clamped his hand over it. "And don't you say a goddamn word until I'm through telling you exactly what I'm going to do, Christine. Are you going to be quiet?"
She nodded. He removed the hand.
"I'm going to fuck you senseless," said Erik, leaning over her even further and pressing her into the bed. "I'm going to fuck you harder than you ever even imagined you could be fucked. I'm going to fuck you until you forget your name and have to scream mine, I'm going to fuck you until you can't crawl out of my bed and have to take up permanent residence there, I'm going to fuck you until you become a tangled sweaty shivering mass of liquid ecstasy, and then we'll take a short coffee break and start all over again. I'm going to bring you to orgasms that will make you see ancient Scandinavian gods and forgotten Sumerian heroes, Christine. I'm going to make you come in positions that will send convulsions of unimaginable pleasure to the very end of your toenails. I guarantee that you've never seen a cock like mine—you may find it necessary to fall down and worship it briefly, but don't take too long, because I'm throbbing and aching and starving for you, Christine, you're a nineteen-course Feast and every other experience has been a stale cracker at best—and you're going to ride it like a crazed native American. In short, you're going to find out what it's like to be fucked by a Monster. How does that sound for starters?"
Heavenly.. She tried to say, but Erik didn't give her the chance.
"I'm going to do everything I dreamed of doing to you when the Shah would have delivered you to me the summer when I was thirty four, and you'd better believe that I spent night after night after sleepless night down here planning it out. Now get this damn shirt off me." He released her hands.
She reached up and undid the buttons with trembling fingers, easing it off his shoulders. His bare chest was just as perfect as she had imagined. She traced the flawless interplay of muscles, the broad shoulders, her fingers skating down to his taut abdomen, and Erik closed his eyes briefly. "Now the trousers," he said.
Christine gulped. She slipped the laces and pulled them apart. The tailoring really was extremely snug, and the green silken undershorts revealed beneath seemed rather evil in their own right, in an understated way. Her fingers brushed against the large bulge in front, and Erik groaned intensely.
"Oh, no," he said. "That's the last time you'll have your hands free in awhile, sweetheart." He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed. Then he smirked at her, and it was the smirk she remembered so well from Hogwarts. Keep your arms there," he said softly. "Don't move them." He walked a few steps away, picked up a coil of rope, and then moved back towards her with the grace of a dancer and the stealth of a panther, and she shivered with arousal and just a trace of fear.
"I seem to remember certain comments you made about being tied to my bed, Christine. I really hope you meant what you said." He picked up the rope and started wrapping it into taught knots..
"Did you know I was an accomplished assassin for three years, Christine?" he asked her.
She stared at him.
"When I ask you a question," he said, "I expect an answer."
"No!" she gasped. There was something about his voice that was like a sharp, deep pinch between her legs. "I didn't know, how would I know?"
"No, you wouldn't. Oh, there are so many things you don't know about me, Christine. For instance…" He walked behind her, so that she couldn't see him. She turned, starting to bring her arms down to her side, and his hands came down on her wrists like iron bands.
"Keep your arms up where I put them." His voice was dark and velvety with just a hint of menace.
"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—"
"I won't matter soon," said Erik. "You see, Christine, I was about to tell you something you didn't know about me. He leaned over her, and she saw his face from below. Between that look on Erik 's face and the fact that he just reminded me that I told him he could tie me to his bed if he liked and do anything he wanted with me, or, well, at least I told him that before he got that look on his face,Christine thought for one objective moment, I really ought to be absolutely terrified. But I'm not at all. Huh. I wonder why not?
"I won the shahs favour many a time for my swift efficiency." he said softly, stretching out his fingers, skimming them across the skin of her arms, watching her skin shiver and the tiny fine hairs rise at the sensation. "You're doing a good job of keeping still…. Do you know why?"
"No." Christine had a feeling that she was about to find out.
"For my expertise with the Punjab Lasso," he said. "Or more commonly, the noose. Horrid I know, but this is what you want. You want a murderer and a monster so that is what I shall give you. But no, there shall be no nooses for you, something more simple just to hold you down..." His voice trailed away.
Christine moaned and stretched her arms up towards him almost before he had finished his sentence. She decided that it sounded like a remarkably fine idea.