Chapter IX: Beast Within a Beauty

Everything had occurred too fast for Erik to understand what had just happened. A minute ago he'd been relishing in Christine's fiery response to his touch, in her explosive orgasm that had almost made him come. And then out of nowhere she had started crying and run out of the room, without a word of explanation. He knew it had all happened fast and that he had overwhelmed her, but she had acted afterwards as if he had raped her.

Quickly cooling himself down, he headed toward her room where he could hear her sobbing through the thick, wooden door. Hesitantly, he knocked.

"Go away," he heard.

He inwardly winced. Despite being confused as to why she had run off he was pretty sure he was responsible for her sudden despair.

"Christine, please, I need to know what's wrong. Why did you…?"

"Go away!" she interrupted. "I don't want to talk to you. Please, just leave."

"Can't I at least know…?"

"Please! I don't want to talk to you!" she whimpered pathetically in response.

He moved to open the door but thought better of it. Right now she didn't want to see him and for once he was going to respect her wishes. He was going to leave her alone.

They didn't speak for many days. Food was sent to her room and she ate it, but she never left her chamber. During every meal Erik thought she might finally join him, but every time she never showed up. And he did not bother her. He was determined to give her space, even if it killed him. She didn't want to see him? Fine. Eventually, he knew, she would come out.

When an entire week had passed, however, he started to doubt that.

"Tell me what I need to know, Monsieur."

Philippe wrung his hands nervously. "Well, Monsieur de Chagny, about a month ago I left on a merchant exchange to the West Indies, in hopes of making a little money since my own business collapsed a year ago. Well, unfortunately, the trip was fruitless and when I returned I lost my way in the mountains and became lost. I wandered for days before I found what appeared to be a deserted chateau. Well, hoping to find some shelter, I entered the castle and actually found myself catered to with a wonderful meal and a real bed and in the morning I even discovered that my horse had been tended to and was served a good breakfast. I was overjoyed at the hospitality and wanted to thank my mysterious host but after searching everywhere I found no one. So, I left, but on my way out I saw a magnificent rose garden and suddenly remembered my daughter Christine's love for roses. So, I went to pick one. Suddenly, however, I was accosted by a giant, sinister-looking man who began threatening me and telling me I was going to die. I was horrified! But when I tried to explain to him that I had only gotten the rose for my daughter, he demanded I bring her to him and that if I did not he would come after us and kill me. I-I had no idea what to do. I went home and told my family and instead of letting me go, Christine, went. She did as that beast demanded and went to him! Now she's been with that horrible man for almost a month and I'm so frightened I don't know what to do. I don't know what he's done with her, if he's killed her or…"

"Monsieur, Monsieur, do not worry," the man reassured him in his smooth and placating voice. "I have dealt with some of France's most nefarious criminals. I think I can find this man and eliminate him."

Philippe sighed as if the world had been wrested from his shoulders. "Oh, Monsieur de Chagny, you do not know how much that soothes my heart. My most ardent wish is to get my young Christine back."

"Well, you can have no doubt that I will indeed find her and bring her back."

"Thank you, Monsieur," Philippe thanked graciously.

"Please, Monsieur, call me Raoul."

Christine could not will herself to get out of bed. For a week now she had sought refuge in her chamber, locking herself away from Erik and the temptation he now presented more than ever. She did not dare face him, not after what he had done, what she had let be done. She felt so guilty about that interlude in his chamber; she didn't know what had come over her. Yes, she admitted she was attracted to him, but she had never imagined letting him take such liberties with her. Well, she had but she had never imagined it coming to such to real and explosive fruition! She did not let herself go there. Although…

Christine shook her head, hoping to rid her mind of her ridiculous thoughts. Was she out of her mind? Erik was an arrogant, grossly self-assured, self-entitled bastard. He was not the type of man a woman dreamed of marrying or having children with. She could not even imagine him around children, although God knows she could imagine making children with him…

She took another breath to steady herself and sat up against the headboard. She felt as if her mind was sinking into thoughts she knew she couldn't entertain, but her body was rebelling. The more she imagined Erik's naked body and his hands on her the more hot she grew, as if her skin was heating within. Her toes curled from the thought of his lips on her skin, tasting her. He had been so gentle yet so masculine and strong; he knew exactly where to touch her. She couldn't help it. Every minute she thought of Erik she grew more and more aroused. As if her body had a mind of its own, her hand, trembling with uncertainty, slid down her thigh and under her thin chemise. She gasped softly when she felt how wet she already was from fantasizing and was almost frightened by how powerful a reaction she had to the image of a naked Erik. But when she found herself thinking about Erik again she moved her fingers inside of herself and felt the delicious caress, all the while imagining that it was Erik who was touching her, kissing her. Before she knew it she was lost in her own fantasy, feverishly moaning and writhing her hips as she stroked herself, consumed by the erotic images of that stubborn, beautiful, sexual man swimming through her mind. She could practically fell him. And it felt so good…

Erik had decided that morning that he was going to finally put a stop to Christine's solitude and confront her about the incident. He had given her a week to sort out her feelings and avoid him. Now he was going to speak to her, talk to her about how ridiculous this nonsense really was. If she was so upset by what they had shared he wanted, and frankly deserved, to know why.

After having breakfast and going through what he planned to say, he went to her room that mid-morning. Taking the key that he secretly kept and opened almost every door in the mansion except his own, he began to open her door. He paused a second. But then, shaking his head to gain control, he quickly opened the door and walked in. But he did not expect to see what he did when he walked in.

The moment he walked in he had seen the innocent, little Christine lying on her bed, knees spread open, hand under her chemise, bringing herself to pleasure with the touch of her hand. Her mouth was open, erotically panting while her hips bucked to reach her own heated strokes. And to top it all off, he had walked in on her moment of orgasm, seeing her cry out wantonly as her skin flushed deliciously and her body jerked.

He stood silent, with his mouth gaping. He was hard as stone, aroused to the point of pain, shocked and undone by the most erotic sight of his life.

But it ended in merely a second.

"What…?" Christine screamed as she came back to reality from her tumultuous peak and realized he had been standing there watching her. "What on earth are you doing here?"

He was nearly speechless, but after minutes of replaying what had just happened, he managed to speak. "I…came to check on you since you've barricaded yourself in here for a week."

Her face was a crimson shade of shame and fury. "You deliberately betrayed my privacy and…spied on me!"

"Well," he chuckled, "how was I to know you would pleasuring yourself?"

Her face burned even hotter with embarrassment.

"Is that what you have been doing in here all week?"

Christine immediately looked at him in shock and glared with all the unleashed passion that was within her. "How dare you speak that way to me! That was…a private moment that no one was to supposed to witness."

"It shouldn't have been private," he countered. "You are obviously in need of a man to tend to you if you were so feverishly stroking yourself."

"Get out!" she screamed suddenly. "Get out right now and don't you ever speak to me again!"

"This is my house," he yelled back. "And I will stay if I wish, and I think you and I both wish that."

"You have no idea who I was thinking about!"

"Well, after your reaction to my touch a week ago I have a pretty good idea."

She glared daggers at him, wishing with all her might that she had the power to kill with her mind. Then, pulling strength from her anger, she gathered herself together and began pulling her clothes from the chest next to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving. I cannot stay here any longer if I'm going to be treated this way."

"Treated?" he practically roared. "You have been acting as if I raped you!"

"I never asked you to touch me!"

"And you didn't stop me either."

Filled with bloodlust, she strode quickly to him and slapped him violently against the cheek. But her greatest effort at hurting him seemed to do nothing to him since he barely even flinched and quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him so that their bodies intimately touched.

Both breathing hard, they glared at each other, neither wanting to admit how incredibly aroused they both were.

"Will you ever stop fighting me?" he whispered in a heated and almost dangerous tone that spread goosebumps down her flesh.

She swallowed. "Never."

"A pity, especially when you could be putting that fire and energy up to better use, something I think we'd both find much more enjoyable."

"I want nothing to do with you," she bit out venomously.

He only smirked, though. "We shall see about that."