A/N: Why, look at that! A really quick update. It's because I'll be out of town until July 15th, so there won't be anything until then. So here's a present.

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"Erik, slow down!" she said as she was nearly flung off the thin steps as she raced to keep up with him. He spun to face her, and she withdrew in shock. When did he suddenly get so angry…?

"Why do you let people pry, Christine?" he yelled, close to her face, still sounding like Zeus in the sheltered area. "You let it, you enjoy it, because you are pretty and you think they cannot possibly hurt you—everyone can hurt you! You don't exist with them anymore, you exist with me! Have you forgotten?"

He was actually shaking with anger, and literally growling with each breath in frustration. Half terrified, half thrilled with him, she reached out to touch his chest to feel him for herself.

He pushed her hand away with such force that she stumbled into the wall behind her, and then suddenly, his hands constricted her body as his lips assaulted hers.

Help… was her first thought. She couldn't breathe as he strangled her and loved her in one motions. Her panic was oddly short-lived—barely three long, terrifying seconds passed before he tore both his lips and his hands away from her. Her heart still pumping furiously throughout her body, she crumpled to the floor as a brief sheen of black obscured her vision.

Pacing and holding his hands out, he said, "No, no, of course not," over and over again while his hands made motions as if tracing something in midair.

She pulled herself up, taking in deep breaths to slow down her heart rate, and simply waited for him to calm down. There were some things about him that she would just never understand, and she had to stop expecting that she should.

"Get up," he said quietly. "And come close to me."

She went to him and leaned against him, and he seemed perfectly content for those few moments to just put his arms around her and feel her there. Even as his fingers rubbed the ends of her hair and he gently rocked her, she was not fooled—she had seen the fire in his eyes and knew his temper was not yet over.

Tentatively, she laid her hand and face against him, and he gasped.

"Are you alright?" she asked in alarm, drawing away, afraid she had somehow hurt him. He frantically shook her head, whether answering her question or telling her he was not going to answer, and then took her arm and began to descend down the stairs again while she followed once more. By the time they reached the stone, she said, "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"The hell with them," he said, and pushed her inside, burning with some sort of concealed anger. Her heart thudded in her chest.

He didn't stop until he reached his bedroom, the one taboo place. Christine hesitated, pulling back automatically. Instinct warned her that this was one place she did not want to be tonight.

"What" he said angrily, displeased by her reaction and tugging impatiently on her arm so that she followed him carefully. The room was very similar to last night—the sheets were even in the same pile off the bed.

Erik bolted the door—was he expecting company?—and Christine watched the way he moved, remembering the way he had glided over the two young men, imagining what he would be like if he leapt at her… She felt a strange need stir in her.

And then he said, "Take off your dress."

The world stopped. "What?" she said pitifully.

Is this happening?

"Take off your dress," he repeated, accentuating each word with a roughness that was coarse against his tone. "I am not going to say it again."

She watched him turn his back on her and go unbutton the cuffs of his jacket. He then turned to face her again, looking at her sourly.

"Take off your dress," he said steadily. "Or shall I do it?"

Christine shook her head, jumping to obey him. Nervousness and fear trickled into her now. She had so many wonderful scenarios planned out on how to make him take her, but now it seemed she had waited too long. Panic and exhilaration burst in her chest.

She pulled clumsily at the buttons on her front and slipped her arms out of each sleeve. He watched her lazily, like a cat, his arms crossed. "No rush," he told her, watching her struggle.

Irritated by his unfazed manner, she pulled the dress off clumsily, dragging her hands down her side, making him look. She did not want him standing there, taking control from her – she wanting him panting with desire. She stepped out of it daintily, and then kicked it over by the wall. As she raised her hands to pull off her underdress, he said, "Stop."

She paused, uncertain. Was he going to take that off?

He advanced on her, a hungry look in his eye. "Haven't you wanted it, Christine? Does it not drive you crazy, how we so eloquently avoid it? But it will be so natural for us, it will, because it is exactly what we both want. Don't you want us connected like that?"

She hated when he spoke the truth like so. She covered herself with her arms and let her hair fall into her face.

"Oh, darling," he said softly. "It makes it so much more fun when you pretend to resist me."

Ignoring him, she pulled each cord from the stitch of her corset and pulled her arms through it, letting it fall down by the dress. Erik kept his eyes on the discarded clothes and did not look back up until she had stepped forward. She had the feeling that she had suddenly made him distinctly nervous, and she was glad of it. Without breaking her gaze, she extended her arms towards him and he grasped both of her hands while his eyes dropped down to look at her body. The chemise was thin. It did not leave her shape much to the imagination.

Please want me, Erik. I've dreamed so of making you want me.

He lightly pushed her backwards. "I want to see more of you," he said quietly, forcing her to sit on the edge of the bed. He lifted up the cream skirt to above her knees, and an overwhelming rush of blood hit her, whether from fear or something else she knew not.

It was impossible, at this level of his waist, to not look at him. And it was impossible not to have her heart rate speed up even more at what she saw.

Erik did not let her stares go unnoticed. "That is what a woman can do to a man," he replied reasonably enough, as if he was not bothered by his own arousal between his legs. "Proves I am man after all, eh?"

"But we're not married," she whispered. She could not stop staring at it. His hand touched her leg… Oh, God… Who cared?

He shrugged, still fighting very hard to stay in control. "This is my world, Christine, remember. Our world. We make our own rules."

"Is this in the rules?" she asked, sliding her legs up.

"You are down here, are you not? You chose to stay down here, with me. That is a bond stronger than any marriage, I think."

He leaned into her and kissed her lips, then slipped down her neck and between her breasts. She steadied herself on the bed to reach and grab his shoulders , but he still kept himself several inches away from her. He nipped at her lips with every passing second, and each time he drew away, it was like something clung and always brought them back together.

"Are you pleased?" he whispered.

She kissed him back, drawing him deeper in, like how waves came up on the ocean. He fidgeted against her and she tasted him and touched him with unsure fingers. Slipping from control, she pulled slightly at his half-undone jacket before he slid up against her.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he chanted as he trailed his lips over her forehead and cheeks.

Deciding to briefly regain control from him, she tugged at him and pulled him completely atop her on the bed. Instantly, he was between her legs and if only there had not been clothes between them, they would have been fully joined. He let out an electrifying moan while his grip became violently more intense on her, slipping down to her waist and pushing her against him. She reached up to his jacket and tried to take it off.

He stopped her. "Do you want me?" he said breathlessly. "Oh God…" His hips surged into hers. "Do you want me?"

"Yes."

Trembling, looking as though he would rather do anything else, both of his hands removed his mask. "But do you still want me?" he repeated, and the side of his face was gruesome, terrible, and alluring. His face reminded her that no one had ever touched him before. What extraordinary power that put in her grasp!

"Yes," she said again. She would reassure him to the end of time, if she must.

He lifted up her dress and she sucked in a breath to feel chilly hands against the sides of her hips. His fingers, deft even through this, traced up her skin to the lace underneath. He moaned again, tensing in what she assumed was an effort to keep himself together. "Do you promise to want me?" he cried out.

"Yes!"

He moved against her one last time, and then suddenly sprang back, looking horrified, covered his face and fled the room.

And everything fell silent.

She sat up uncertainly, still confused by the sensations that coursed through her body. An uncomfortable feeling that made it difficult to stay still continued thudding in her until she eventually laid back against the thin covers and closed her eyes. There was no point in going after him now. Feeling a little dizzy, she pulled the rest of the covers to wrap around her and saw no other choice but to wait on his bed, hoping, praying that he would come back.

He did. She was almost asleep when he returned, still looking tired and almost a little angry, but much more calm. She was instantly awake and he came and carefully picked her out of the old covers and carried her away.

"What is it?" she asked, petrified that she had done something wrong as she tried to get settled in his grip. "Why are you moving me?"

"Because you are cold and uncomfortable," he said, and she could feel the reverberations in his chest from his voice go right through her. "Get a good night's sleep. One more night alone in your room."

"One more night?" she repeated blankly, terrified he was going to make her leave.

"Yes. One more night. And then tomorrow is a big day." She expected him to carry her all the way into bed, but he dropped her down at the doorway, her underskirts sliding off him as she straightened herself into a standing position. It was like he did not want to set even one foot inside the white walls.

"Why?" she asked.

His eyes glittered with ice. "Tomorrow we are getting married."

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