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This chapter is rated M for MATURE!

Chapter 21

Despite the horrid events of the previous evening, Christine slept free of nightmares. Perhaps it was because she had been completely sated and exhausted after her passionate night with Erik that had followed her return home, or because she felt so safe falling asleep in his arms. Or a combination of the two. She woke late in the morning, feeling very warm. Almost too warm, actually, and lying on something not near as soft as the bed.

It was when she felt the light trailing of fingers on her naked back that she realized she was laying on top of Erik, could suddenly feel how he was just as bare as she underneath her. She inhaled a delighted breath and cracked her eyes open, lifting her head to see him.

There he was, awake, his head in the strangest position with the right side of his face buried into the pillow. Her serene smile fell when she realized he was hiding from her, and with soft fingers she coaxed him to face her. Blue eyes finally met hers, cautious and afraid, and she chased away his doubts with a caressing touch to his deformity.

"Good morning," she murmured. "This is a pleasant surprise."

He could have died right then and been content to do so. It was almost all too much to bear; to have felt her body on him all through the night, to have her looking at his face in the morning light with nothing but pure adoration in her brown eyes, to feel her gentle touch on his ruined skin, to hear her voice, raspy and sleep filled with the morning…

Erik sighed. "I forget to inform you last night. Shortly after you left I received word that the housekeeper would not be coming today."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Her husband is ill."

Christine fretted. "I hope he will be all right."

He watched a concerned crease form between her brows, and he fell in love with her all over again. Of course she would be worried for someone she had never even met.

"I am…sure all will be fine."

She beamed and nodded, and leaned forward to kiss him with a soft moan. He did not know how he bore the strength to resist her, but he did, pushing her away gently. "I need to know what happened," he demanded softly, seeing her disappointment. "You will tell me now."

Christine sighed and rolled off of him, sitting up and holding the bedding secure to her to hide her nakedness. She had known this was coming at some point, and decided it would be best to just get it over with. He sat up too, his expression unreadable as he watched her intently.

"Well," she began, nervous, peeking at him once and then avoiding his eyes. "We met at Madame Giry's house as discussed. Raoul arrived by himself, and he and I were left alone to talk." Erik's jaw clenched at that, but she went on. "I immediately told him that he needed to stop searching for me, and stop harassing Madame Giry." She paused. "He was not happy, of course. He tried to get me to leave with him, but I refused."

Christine stopped there, feeling his gaze intent on her face. She feigned innocence as she looked up at him. "That is all, really."

Erik's eyes narrowed. "That is all?" he pressed. "What happened after you refused him?"

She chewed on her lip, not wanting to lie to him but knowing how angry he would be if she told him the truth. He could be truly frightening when he was angry…

Her voice was quiet when she finally answered him. "I called for help, and Madame Giry's cousins took him outside. They knocked him unconscious and I left." She stared down at her hands in her lap, until Erik lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his blazing, suspicious eyes.

"Christine," his voice was low and full of warning. "You are leaving something out. You were obviously distressed when you returned. Tell. Me."

Christine swallowed. God, he can be so intimidating. Her voice shook as she said, "He…had been drinking. I did not realize. When I refused him, he would not take it, and I did not know what else to do but tell him firmly that…I did not love him anymore. That I love you. And…he was insane with rage, Erik! He-he grabbed me." Her fingers touched her chin, remembering how Raoul's grip had hurt.

Erik inhaled sharply, his fists tightening into fists. "What else?" he growled through clenched teeth.

"I do not want to tell you," she breathed, eyes filling with moisture at the memory of Raoul's insistent lips on hers. The weight of his body suffocating her…

"I think…I can guess," he said quietly. "That bastard. He tried to…he tried to force himself on you." It was not a question, rather a shocked and disgusted statement. Even in Erik's worst moments of insanity, he would never imagine hurting his Christine like that. Never. He felt as if he would be sick just thinking about it.

She had not even been able to admit it to herself, but as Erik said the words, she knew they were true. Her eyes swimming, she nodded slowly, unable to meet his eyes, terrified of his reaction. "Please," she whispered. "Please do not be angry. I cannot handle it."

Christine had expected him to burst into a fit of rage, but Erik's voice was low and even when he finally spoke, surprising her. "I always knew that boy was a scoundrel." He paused, softly stroking her hair. "Losing you, of course, would drive any man mad. I do not doubt that…but only the lowliest of men would consider…" he broke off, taking a deep breath. "I am very sorry you went through that."

"It was awful," she said thickly, quickly wiping a tear that had escaped. "I never thought he could be so cruel."

Erik pulled her to him, cradling her against his chest. "I should have been there to protect you. I am sorry, my dear." His voice was so soft and level, baffling her once again!

She sniffled. "Who are you and what have you done with Erik? I was afraid you would be on your way to kill him by now."

He chuckled quietly, squeezing her close. "Hmm…perhaps you have made me soft." Pausing, he grew serious, his voice going cold as ice, chilling her. "Oh, but if I ever see him again, he is a dead man, Christine. You will not be able to stop me."

She snuggled closer to him. "I do hope we never see him again, so that it would not come to that."

"I disagree."

Christine took a deep breath, thankful that the whole nightmare was behind them, and that she was home in Erik's arms, safe and sound and warm.

"I am happy enough to have you home safe with me," he said, practically reading her thoughts.

"Oh, me too, Erik." She placed a kiss on his neck, and he grasped her tighter to him. "Mm, I love you."

"I will never understand," he breathed, voice full of wonder. "Though I will never tire of hearing it, either."

"Then I shall never stop saying it," she vowed, tilting her head up in search of a kiss. He obliged, meeting her expectant mouth with a tender kiss that filled her with need, until the sound of Christine's stomach growling made him pause.

"Breakfast first?" he asked her with a smirk.

She flushed. "I suppose."

He chuckled, brushing her pouty lower lip with his thumb. "How adorable you are when you pout."

Before venturing downstairs, Christine washed quickly in the bathroom and raked a comb through her hair in hopes of making it a little tamer. She donned her robe and nothing else with a smirk, securing the fabric to her until it covered the fact that she was naked underneath. Her cheeks were pink as she padded downstairs.

It was a lovely morning. There were sounds of birds chirping outside, bright sunlight coming in through the windows of the sitting room. Erik had set out breakfast for her and gone to ready himself for the day, and she devoured the food quickly. After cleaning up the table, she skipped to the music room, wanting nothing more than to lose herself in her husband for the remainder of the day.

He was deeply engrossed in his music when she entered, and she could tell he wore his usual wig and mask, though his back was to her. She watched him for a while, loving how his shirt clung to the taut muscles of his arms and back, wishing she could kiss and caress every inch of his toned body. The melody he played was soft and sweet, and his fingers glided across the keys masterfully, skillful and smooth. The same hands that had touched her everywhere…

She bit her lip, already seduced and he had not even touched her yet.

When he finished the song, he spoke without turning. "Did you enjoy the song, Christine?" His voice was light, amused.

"How did you know I was here?" she laughed, approaching him and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"The Phantom sees everything," he stated dryly. "You did not answer my question."

Erik sighed heavily as she kneaded her fingers into his neck, and then he heard the soft purr of her voice in his ear. "The song was lovely, but I enjoyed watching you play more." A press of her soft lips to the space below his ear followed, and he swallowed.

In one swift movement, he turned on the bench so fast that it was almost disorienting, and Christine's eyes widened. "Is that so?" he matched her seductive tone, though his was much more impressive than hers, she was sure, and she nodded. Erik grabbed her waist and pulled her to him almost roughly, and she gasped as his hands fisted into her hair and pulled her down to kiss him. What was it that made him so bold? His mask? Perhaps she would not ask him to remove it this time…

Large, strong hands were all over her as they kissed, and she moaned into his mouth when they grabbed greedily at her behind. She remembered all too late that she was completely bare underneath her robe, and when Erik pushed it off of her impatiently, she felt her face heat.

Was she…? He broke their kiss to look, and sure enough, his angel had put on nothing besides her robe. Erik raked his delighted eyes all over her perfect nakedness; having had no idea his sweet young bride could be so bold. Especially as her cheeks were flushed with her shyness when he looked at her face.

"Christine," he growled with a wicked grin, pulling her back to him to reclaim her mouth with his.

His kiss. Oh, how could something so graceless be so utterly delicious? It was the one thing that Erik did that screamed his inexperience, and she adored every second of it. She prayed it would never change, vowed to never tell him how clumsy it was. Her hands raced to unbutton his shirt, and soon he was without it, his skin warm beneath her palms. Erik shuddered when she gently raked her nails down his chiseled torso, and she swallowed his moan.

His greedy mouth moved to her neck, drinking in her intoxicating scent, trailing kisses down her collarbone, and then closing his mouth over one pink nipple. He sucked gently, loving how she voiced her pleasure with the sweetest of sounds and dug her fingers into his shoulders. Yes, he adored the signs that he could make his Christine feel good, just as she so generously did him. He did not deserve her. She deserved everything.

Erik released her breast with a pop, standing and whirling them around to push her down onto the bench. Her eyes were especially dark as she gazed up at him, curious as to what his next move would be, and he watched those pink lips part as he dropped to his knees before her. Bending forward, he first kissed the other, neglected nipple, licking and wetting and sucking until it matched its glistening, swollen twin. He could feel her panting breaths, could very nearly hear her heart pounding against her chest.

He brushed his wet lips down her stomach, warm tongue dipping down to taste her skin, and then kissing along her thigh. She tensed when those insistent hands pulled her forward until she sat at the very edge of the bench and spread her legs apart, but relaxed slightly when he only moved to kiss the insides of her thighs. She braced her hands on the back of the bench, fearing for her balance, but Erik held her waist steady in place. When his teeth grazed her fleshy skin, she tossed her head back with a moan, letting her eyes close.

"You are so lovely," he praised between kisses on each inner thigh, his low, rich voice heating her insides until she burned. "And you taste so, so good, Angel. I want to kiss every part of you."

It was a second too late that she realized what he intended to do, and she gasped in surprise when he gently kissed her most secret place, right between her thighs. No… she almost protested, but when his warm, wet tongue swirled her just where she needed, all she could think was, oh, yes. Part of her was so embarrassed that she wanted to shove him off, but the other, much bigger part was embracing this feeling that was quite unlike anything.

Her pleasured cries were loud, and she held onto the bench for dear life, trembling everywhere as she felt the build. "Erik," she mewled, and it sounded like a plea. When she finally dared to look down and see, that was it. His cerulean orbs were fixed right on her face as he licked and kissed, and the moment they made eye contact she shattered hard, keening, her body on fire in the most intense release she had experienced yet.

Erik rose, hardening even further as he watched how she still gasped and trembled from his attentions, her face flushed and dewy with sweat. The fact that he could reduce his Christine to this was titillating, and he smirked down at her with triumph.

When she finally returned back to herself, she looked to find Erik standing, looking down at her with a rather satisfied expression. She shook her head at him and giggled breathlessly, standing and crushing her lips to his in a grateful kiss.

Without breaking their lips apart, he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist and striding across the room to the chaise lounge. He laid her down, their tongues tangling together as he fumbled to free himself from the prison of his trousers. Once freed, he held his rock hardness in his hand, rubbing the tip around Christine's wetness and moaning into her mouth. She tilted her hips upward, trying to push him inside, and he chuckled darkly. "Patience, my dear," he scolded playfully, continuing to tease her. He found he rather liked teasing her.

Only when she shivered with need again did he finally slip inside, filling her and setting a slow, delicious pace. When he quickened the pumps of his hips, she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back and biting his lower lip carefully. "Vixen," he growled, tangling his fingers into her hair and pushing into her harder, faster. She grinned saucily, humming her agreement.

Oh, how she loved him. Loved this with him. She wished he could be as confident as he was now without his mask and wig. Either way, he was him. Either way, she loved him desperately. Perhaps someday he would understand that, and be just as comfortable without his disguise, if she could find ways to reassure him every day.

When Christine came undone once again, he followed soon after, her name escaping his lips like a prayer.