Hello there,

So for everyone who has been waiting with held breaths on when the next chapter would be released, here it is! I'm so sorry for not posting anything more recently, however I had two weeks of midterms, and then Sandy hitting us did not help at all. For those of you who were at least looking for signs of M-rated material, here is the first. For those who are still reading this, and only comfortable at reading up to T-rated, I did add in three asterisks right before the scene-Just stop reading there completely. This chapter is unfortunately major fluff, but I feel it's also significant and necessary for their relationship, especially with how...passionate we know these two can get. Now that I've gotten everything back on track, you guys can expect a new chapter very soon! In fact, I'm working on the bulk of it later this evening. Also for those who didn't see, I did submit a one shot called "Obsession"-in order to help everyone gain a bit more understanding of the depth of Christine's feelings for the composer. Happy reading, darlings!

Ever yours,

Soprano in Shadow

Christine smiled to herself, humming softly, as she began to mentally make a list of everything that they would need for their upcoming nuptials. Purchase Meg's ticket to New York? Check. Ask Antoinette to walk her down…whatever aisle there would be? Check. Ask Firmin and Andre to be witnesses? Check. Set a date and time to go to City Hall? Check. Buy a white dress for the civil ceremony? Check. "Lightly" nudge Erik to ask Raoul to be his best man?

…Still had to work on that one.

Christine could hardly believe that in five days, she would become the wife of Erik Destler—perhaps they were rushing into something too soon after only knowing each other for such a short period of time, but Christine didn't care. She had fallen in love with this man so long before even meeting him. Their tempers may be dangerous when set against the other, but the passion they held for each other was electrifying. But what would she become? Christine Destler—Mrs. Erik Destler. Christine frowned for a moment before letting a soft laugh escape her lips. Erik Daae—Mr. Erik Daae. Now there was one name Christine knew that Erik would never accept. Perhaps it would be best for them to keep their own names?

Arms encircled the brunette's waist from behind interrupting her thoughts, and instinctively, Christine sharply elbowed the firm stomach behind her. Hearing a quick groan of pain, Christine ducked to the floor and kicked the man's feet off the ground. Rolling away, Christine grabbed the closest weapon she could, a house phone, when she heard a low growl. Jumping to her feet, Christine moved into a defensive position, only to see a flash of white.

"…Erik?" Christine paled. Did she just attack her fiancé? Another growl met her one worded question, and Christine flinched. "Erik, are you ok? I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you," the young woman exclaimed.

Moving to stand up, Erik began to mutter to himself, before focusing his glare on his soon-to-be wife. "I'm not hurt! Bloody woman, all I was trying to do was be romantic. Thought it would be a nice change from attacking you," Erik snapped as he began to look for his mask, only to find it shattered. "Damn," Erik muttered to himself, "That was my only porcelain mask—it was a classic."

Christine brought her hand up in order to hide the smile forming on her face. Here she had been worried that she had hurt Erik's feelings by kicking him to the floor, and instead he was only concerned about his mask. Some men never changed.

"Works for me," Christine said happily, closing the space between them, "that's one less mask for me to deal with. You do know that all of those masks are next on my target list, right?"

Rolling his eyes at what he found to be her immaturity, Erik grunted in response as he bent down to grab the larger pieces of the fragmented mask. Perhaps he could glue them back together? Although it would no longer be usable, Erik could at least keep it as a memento—this mask had been his very first since he had begun assassination.

"Erik, if you're going to continue being stubborn about this, couldn't you at least use something a bit more…breathable? I mean, I'm sure the lab at the Organization could design something using fabrics that are more comfortable for the job," Christine suggested.

"Angel, while I do appreciate your…interesting ideas, the masks I have… I've created all of the ones I use by hand. However, if you insist on trying to force me into embracing something…newfangled, then…I suppose I could give it a try," Erik said hesitantly.

Christine laughed softly. "Newfangled? I knew you were old, darling, but really? Newfangled?" Growling in response, Erik wrapped one of his arms around the soprano and, pulling her closer to him, grabbed Christine's lips with his own. Christine brought her own arms up around Erik's neck, trying to get as close as she could to the man she loved. Did clothes really take up that much space between them?

They ended up on the bed, and somehow both shirts had been taken off, and as they both began making out like desperate high school students, Christine began to wonder if they would be able to last the next five days. Running her hands up and down her fiancé's toned upper body Christine couldn't help but emit a low groan, grinding her lower body against his own. Feeling his response, Christine grinned as she repeated the movement, receiving yet another growl from the man beneath her—but this growl was one of complete frustration.

"Christine…Angel…You need to… I need… Oh God!" Erik could barely string a single sentence together, his brain hardly able to comprehend what was happening. Grabbing the back of her head, Erik pulled the young woman's face back down to meet his own hungry lips, his tongue devouring the inside of her mouth. Her rib cage could barely contain her heart as it thumped away as quickly as it could, and Christine's eyes fluttered shut once more as she fell under the spell of Erik's kisses.

Erik wasn't sure how much longer he could resist tearing the remainder of Christine's clothes away from her trembling body. But they had promised each other to wait. Christine had insisted on at least one part of their wedding being traditional, wanting it to be special, and Erik had agreed. Despite both being seasoned agents, and neither inexperienced in the ways of sex, Erik had seen this as a chance for a clean slate.

(***)

That didn't mean that Erik couldn't dirty the slate a teensy bit more before then. Christine nearly gasped as she felt Erik's hand move below her stomach, and onto the clasp of her jeans.

"E-Erik, what…W-what are you…" Christine trailed off as her jeans loosened.

"Shhh, Angel. Trust me…" came his whispered response.

Christine felt one hand slide along her side, tracing the top of her jeans, while the other reached behind her back, working its way through the hook of her bra.

"I'm not breaking our promise to wait, but we happened not to mention anything about something…else…" Erik smirked as his hand freed the back of Christine's bra, then slowly slid around her until it encountered what it had been searching for.

"Well, it looks like this breast of yours wants me… it's pointing right at me," he said with a sly wink.

"…Oh, shut up, you—ohhh…" Christine's words trailed off as Erik squeezed her nipple between his fingers, rolling it back and forth as Christine's back arched with even the slightest motion of his fingers.

Christine hadn't even noticed that Erik's other hand had been slowly pulling the back of her jeans down, freeing them from her hips and leaving them loose on her legs. With his one hand massaging her breast, he let his other slide up her thigh until it hit the lacey edge of her black boyshorts.

"Erik…" The word floated distractedly past her lips.

Erik's hand slid smoothly backwards and grabbed Christine's left butt cheek. Her body quivered as she rolled her hips toward her unmasked fiancé, begging him on without uttering a single word.

Christine's head rolled back on her neck as she felt Erik's hand grab the front of her boyshorts, each squeeze sending a tremor up her spine. She was barely even aware that he still voraciously tasted the inside of her mouth.

Neither was she aware that her jeans had fallen past her ankles, with her panties not far behind.

There she lay on her bed, lips locked with her fiancé, completely naked on top of him. Or apparently now underneath him. Christine grabbed blindly at where she thought his pants must be, and received a particularly vigorous tongue-lashing from within her own mouth in response. Then she felt his hand slide down her stomach, past her belly button, over her freshly-shaven skin and…

"Uhh…Er…Uhhh…ik…Ohhh…Mmmmmm!..." Christine stammered, as every muscle in her body tensed at the feeling of his bare hand on her bare clitoris. Nothing else mattered now except for his fingers, circling her, flicking her quickly, covered in her own wetness.

Then Erik's other hand made its presence known again, squeezing her other breast, and giving her bare body even more tremors. Christine's abs were almost constantly tense, pushing her body even half an inch closer to his warm, pulsing fingers, moving faster and faster.

The kissing had stopped at some point, but it didn't even matter. All that did matter was that every single muscle in her naked body was tensing and releasing uncontrollably, reacting to Erik's touch, the warmth of his hand, the chill of his breath on her nipples. Erik stopped moving his hand and was careful not to breath on the woman beneath him, far more than content to just watch for a few moments. Once her body had just stopped pulsing with raw energy…

The warmth was back, warmer this time, stronger this time. Christine felt something more on her breast.

Not a hand…no…tongue?... She thought through the fog in her mind.

Whatever it was, it was making her body shake constantly, vibrating to the movement of the warm, wet thing circling her nipple as something warm surrounded it and sucked on her breast, sending a chill throughout her body.

The feel of Erik's mouth devouring her breast and his hand caressing her vulva was too much, and Christine's raw body lost control again, even stronger than the first time.

Gasping for air, Christine tried to muster the concentration to think up the words she wanted to say to Erik, but she was too confused by why she couldn't feel his touch anymore. Gathering what little strength she had left, she managed to barely open a single eye just enough to watch the beginning of what happened next.

Christine wasn't really sure if she was watching a hotel movie, or if this was really happening to her body, but she just didn't care. Erik's arms slid under her thighs and grabbed her butt as he pulled her hips all the way to the edge of the bed, where he was now apparently kneeling.

Christine wanted to ask him what he thought he was doing, but never got the chance. With an indescribable look on his face, Erik poked his tongue just past his teeth for Christine to see, and reveled in the look of shock on her face, before lowering his neck down and engulfing her labia in his mouth, sucking on them and flitting his tongue between them.

Christine's eyes slammed shut as her legs flew up behind Erik's back and crossed, pulling his face in deeper. His tongue was now busy working its way between the wet folds of her labia up towards its prize, slowly, tantalizingly, desperately. Erik could feel his fiancée's muscles anticipating what would happen next, and let his tongue just barely flick over the surrounding skin for a minute before letting it drive in to Christine's clitoris, causing her bare naked body to quiver with its own personal earthquake. Her arms flew out to her sides as her hands grabbed huge swaths of the bed sheets, twisting them as her muscles tightened more and more, Erik's warm, wet tongue moving faster and harder all up and down her labia, making frequent stops at its favorite button to push.

Christine was biting her lip hard, trying not to let any sound escape her lips. Her breathing was erratic, her body uncontrollable, her mind completely blank. All that mattered was the mouth between her legs, making her feel more than she had ever felt in her entire life.

Erik's tongue flicking her clitoris, his fingers running between her breasts and her labia, the whole world melted away, making the bed nearly vibrate with her muscles' spasms. And just when she felt like her body couldn't take any more, she felt his hand keep moving farther than it had before, going deeper, spreading her labia apart, playing with them, swimming in the gush of wetness coming from inside her, and then—

Christine let out a scream as her entire body tightened at the feel of Erik's fingers shooting inside her vagina. Covered in her wetness, they had no trouble at all sliding in and out of her, each thrust drawing a moan past Christine's lips.

This…is…Oh…my…How… Christine struggled to think at all.

"Ohhhh…hhhhh…hhhhh…mmm…mmy…"

Erik's warm tongue still spinning circles around Christine's clitoris, his fingers were now pressed deep inside her, pushing upward fast and hard. Christine's legs drew even tighter around her fiancé's back, begging for more. His tongue circling faster and faster, his fingers constantly pushing on her g-spot hard, his hand squeezing her breast and pulling at her nipple, Christine felt every slightest movement of his body against hers. Never had she been so fucking glad to be so completely unguarded like this. Never had she imagined that her Erik would want to do this to her, let alone enjoy it so much. Never had she dreamed that her third massive orgasm that night would leave her holding the two halves of a ripped bed sheet in each of her hands with her lover's face still buried deep in her vulva, enjoying himself as much as she was enjoying him, and going for number four.

At least.