Disclaimer: I don't own the Phantom of the Opera, or any of the characters.

Chapter Seven

Her eagerness was surprising to him. She boldly strode over to him, not a trace of hesitance on her face. It was as if she'd suddenly become a woman right before his eyes. She'd erupted from her cocoon with her wings ready to fly.

"It's so…Erik, it's very hard. It's so big…" she continued to toy with it, lifting it, squeezing it, and rubbing it. He gasped. He threw her hands off, breathing hard.

"That is not a good idea Christine."

"Why not, I was only rubbing it-"

"My point exactly. Look, allow me to finish massaging your charming little legs." The pout she'd began to sport vanished, replaced with a smile. A strange smile. Thinking nothing of it, he sat back down and began to massage her gently.

Now, Christine Daae was one of the most innocent, most polite girls you could meet in the city of Paris. But eventually, a flower must bloom, and attract bees with wicked stingers. Erik was that willing bee with the prickly stinger that was sure to leave her throbbing with a newfound sensation. After all, she'd heard enough from some of the other more experienced ballet rats to know what she could do.

She smirked mischievously as he rubbed her knee. As slowly and carefully as she could manage, she slid down her chair an inch or so. Placing her foot on his slowly deflating groin, she began to massage it in circular movements. He gasped, feebly trying to push her off. But it was no use, she had taken complete control over his movements, making him whimper softly and massage her leg harder. She moaned almost imperceptibly.

"Ch-Christine, please. I can't take it anymore, you must stop." His grip on her leg tightened even more.

"No, I know this feels good for you. I want to please you, that's all I want. I want you to want me. No one else but me." Her words were venom to his body, weakening him entirely.

"Only you, Christine," then, unconsciously, he began trailing kisses up her leg, sliding his hands to her thigh and kneading it tenderly. He'd never done a thing to a woman, but instinct took over as he let his hands slowly work their way closer to her warmth. He inched his fingertips to her steamy underclothes, barely touching it.

"ERIK!" she shrieked. She made to close her legs, but he held her down firmly, smirking up at her.

"Now Christine, I've been a good little boy in allowing you to play on my organ, now be a dear and allow me to play with yours," he said, his voice thick. The huskiness of his voice was all she needed to hear. It was the password into her realm, and weakly, she obliged by letting him explore. After all these years of waiting he wasn't about to waste another moment. He delved right in, making himself at home.

He continued toying with her, watching her squirm helplessly. Slowly, his lust began to rise, his breathing quickening as he saw her face pinch together then relax. Realizing he'd finally gotten her where and how he wanted her, all thoughts of earlier melted away, and he was left with only two thoughts in mind: should he take her in this chair, or on the bed? Seeing as the latter of the two was more rational, he stood abruptly, and scooped her up in his firm arms, startling her. Along the short journey, he glanced down at her and smirked. She was paralyzed, her eyes glazed over by want and curiosity.

As gently as he could, he placed her on the bed, lying down next to her. He stroked her cheek, soaking up this moment and filling every little space in his mind with her beauty.

"Christine, do you want me?" he whispered, moving his hand further downward to her chest. She mustered up a small whimper.

"I cannot hear you, love. Christine, do you want me?" His hand moved to her corseted belly. Again, all she could produce from her pink lips was a small noise. Sighing, his hand slithered until it was under the thick folds of her dress and sliding up her thigh. He swiftly snaked his hand into her undergarment, making her eyes widen and her breath quicken.

"Christine…do you want me?" he hissed, slipping a finger into her hot mound. Her back arched, and she screamed.

"YES ERIK I WANT YOU I NEED YOU TAKE ME PLEASE!" He chuckled sinisterly, his erection stiffening ever more.

"As you wish my goddess." He pulled out his now soaked finger, jumping off of the bed to toss his clothing all over the room in his excitement. When he returned, she was still lying there, breathing laboriously. Softly, slowly, he began peeling away her wretched clothing, leaving behind a trail of kisses where material once reigned. At last he reached the one place he dreaded: her corset. His need was much too great, however, so he sprang up, rushing out of the room and returning with a small knife. Her eyes shot wide open, as if realizing what was happening for the first time. The tables had turned, and she was now his for the taking.

Crawling over to her on the bed, he placed the edge of the knife at the top of her corset where her breasts were heaving with fear and excitement. In one swift movement, the foul contraption was lying on the floor, and her breasts were left with only a ridiculously thin chemise for cover. Seeing no point in making another trip to put away something this useful, he cut off the rest of the dress as well, her chemise straining to cover anything at all.

"Never wear a corset when you visit me again. Ever," he hissed, his eyes ravaging her clad body, her small nipples already bulging, begging for a way out. And who was he to prevent that?

Christine, who'd had her eyes shut tight the entire time in pure bliss, heard a small ripping noise, and shortly after felt a small draft. Curiosity overpowering fear, she looked down, flabbergasted in seeing her now fully nude body.

"Erik!" she yelped, trying uselessly to cover herself with her hands. He laughed, thinking it so cute that she was acting so innocent when only moments ago, she'd been the one tantalizing him. Suddenly, he was upon her, pinning her hands down with his own, his head dipping low to catch one of her nipples in his mouth. Despite the fight she was putting, they both knew she wanted this. She'd always wanted this. It was all just so new to her. All struggling ceased as his sucking became softer, his tongue caressing her pink nipple.

"Oh, Erik…" she sighed, her lower body arching up to him, beckoning for touch. His head only moved from one breast to the other. A small ache in the pit of her stomach began to grow increasingly worse, begging for something more. Yet she didn't know what it was. It spread from her stomach to her arms, legs, poisoning her inexperienced mind, and resting on her heated flesh. She needed him now more than ever.

"Erik, p-p-please…please…" she pleaded, needing more than just a small piece. He lifted his head, her small, hard skin still in his mouth, stretching it until she hissed in pain intertwined with pleasure. Nipping at it, he let it fall, watching it in awe as it bounced back onto her chest.

"Please what, Christine?" he whispered into her ear, his hands trailing away from her hands to her breasts, gently groping them.

"T-take me…p-please." He smiled down at her, taking her in as if this was the first and last time they would ever do this.

She could wait a moment more; he wanted to explore what he was about to conquer. Kissing her soft tummy, he made his way further south, the stubble on his chin making her jump as it made contact with her pink flesh. He proceeded to go around it though, and as he licked her inner thigh, he peered up at it, noticing a small pink nub at the top. Curiously, he pulled away from her leg, dilatorily reaching out a finger to touch it. He heard a sharp intake of air. Eager to see more, he caught the small thing in between two fingers, rolling it back and forth with tenderness. Small, short exhales of breath emitted from her, her back arching in small, convulsive movements. He found himself smiling broadly, wanting more from her. An idea darted into his head, and he followed it, placing his mouth over her precious gem. He sucked and licked, rolling his tongue rapidly from side to side, making her scream his name louder than he'd ever heard her before. His hot mouth sealed out any other draft, the tip of his tongue slid in all different directions on her pink pearl. Her small moans and silent screams made him even harder to the point of release.

Christine yanked his head up by his chin abruptly, her eyes ablaze as they pierced his eyes.

"No more, please! I-I need you now, p-please, I cannot bear it any longer. T-take me, please…" Nodding, he lifted himself up. Slowly, he lowered himself a bit more, positioning himself at her steaming entrance.

She looked down, amazed to see that he looked even bigger than before. Her hands rested on his arms, her fingernails digging into his skin.

"Trust me," he whispered, kissing her tenderly. When it was broken, she looked up at him, nodding. Placing his tip next to her throbbing womanhood, he laid down on her, allowing her to squeeze him as with one thrust, all her innocence and childhood vanished with a sharp pain. She cried out, biting his shoulder. All his aggressiveness melted away as she sobbed quietly into the crook of his neck. He'd never, in any lifetime no matter how angry he was with her, want to inflict this kind of pain, and for him to have done it broke him in two. But it would get better: she would be yelling out his name in a moment.

Once her tears stopped flowing, she pulled away from him, looking into his golden eyes. Slowly, he pulled out of her, and then slammed into her again. She shrieked again, but this time out of pure bliss. He smiled.

He continued to ram into her, slapping noises echoing off the walls of his lair. Beads of sweat rolled down the unmasked portion of his otherwise handsome face. Their bodies were one; rocking back and forth with only the sound of echoing moans and gasps piercing the air around them. His hands shot out to her hips, grasping them for dear life as his member slipped in and out of her sultry mound of flesh. He dipped his head, sucking fiercely on one of her rock-hard nipples.

"Erik…f-faster…" she whispered hoarsely as she feebly dug her nails into the flesh of his shoulders. Slashing his teeth over her small breast, he growled like a wild animal, throwing her legs over his shoulders.

"ERIK!"

His only response was a low grunt, followed by Christine's small yelps for more.

Never had he thought, in all his wild fantasies about this woman lying helplessly under his towering form, that it would feel so heavenly. Her womanhood throbbed all around his large shaft, pulsating with the threat to leave him in a heap of spent bliss. He didn't want it to end, wanting it to last an eternity. Remembering something he'd seen in one of his countless books, he pulled out of her, her eyes snapping open in insult.

Lying on his side, he positioned her on hers as well, picking up the leg on top, and slowly, excruciatingly slid inside her, ridding her of her separation anxiety. Then, he just lay inside her, moving nothing at all.

"Erik…" she warned. Chuckling evilly, he pulled out, and then slammed into her with surprising power.

Her mind was in too much of a daze for her to even think. The only thought she could muster up was how good it felt. No, it was beyond good. It was something beyond this world.

Instinctively, he felt his release approaching, and by the way she was throbbing told him she was almost ready as well. Wanting her to see him as he claimed her once and for all, he flipped her over once more and crushed his lips to her as his hot, sticky seed spilled inside her.

"I love you, Erik," she whispered when he'd pulled away to kiss her neck. He looked up, exhausted.

"I love you too, Christine."

Morning was but hours away, and they both needed their rest. Lying in a heap of sweaty, tangled limbs, sleep overcame them both.

XOXOX

"I must go, Charlize."

"It's Liz Beth, Monsieur." the young girl piped up, her naked upper body the only thing visible from under the sheets. The Vicomte looked back uninterested, buttoning his pants.

"Oh, yes Liz Beth, right. Well I'm off, and remember, tell anyone of this encounter, and I'll be sure that you're removed from this house." Without a backward glance, he left the room in search of his "love".

As he approached her door, he checked his breath, and his skin and clothing for any marks. Finding none within his view, he knocked, his usual misleading smile finding its way onto his face. He waited for quite some time, never getting a response. Slightly worried, he tried the knob, finding it to be locked. Remembering the key he'd nicked from the managers' office earlier that week, he opened it.

"Christine? Christine, are you asleep? I came to check on you love, see if you're…all…right…" Raoul's voice stopped dead when he saw an empty bed, and spotted a broken mirror leading into a daft passage. His heart told him it was some sort of sick illusion, but his mind told him otherwise. He'd never seen this entrance in his life, but he knew exactly where it led. And he was prepared to wait all night if he had to until she returned…

'The rotten harlot,' He thought.