A Happy New Year to everyone!
My eternal thanks, too, to all who have reviewed. I really appreciate it!
I do not own POTO, or its characters.
Nadir exited wordlessly, leaving the newlyweds to their privacy.
Erik stared at Christine as if seeing her for the very first time.
"You´re not expecting," he said slowly, and he dropped into the armchair Nadir had just vacated, his gaze still fixed on his wife.
"That´s right," said Christine patiently, "I´m not pregnant!" She paused for a moment as something occurred to her, and she looked at Erik accusingly. "Erik! Did you think I married you today because I was in a family way?"
His silence was all the confirmation Christine needed. He continued to look at her in bewilderment and wonder.
"I married you simply because I wanted to, Erik. The moment was right…"
"And the trip to Europe I had planned for you? I was certain when I gifted you with that itinerary that by now you would have had your bags packed, that you would be ready to leave…"
"To leave you, Erik? I don´t think so. I´m glad you mentioned that trip, though, because I have to admit that it was the idea of the trip that pushed me over the edge and into marriage. You were really prepared to let me go, weren´t you?"
"I cannot say I could ever be prepared to do that, but I would have done it," said Erik, something dark and grim flickering in his eyes at the thought.
"We could take the trip together, you and I," ventured Christine. "If you could clear your agenda, that is. And I really didn´t mean to disappoint you, Erik – about the pregnancy, I mean. I just want us to have some time alone together before we start a family…"
"Disappointed!" Erik exclaimed, rising to his feet and approaching Christine, the old fire in his eyes. "I am about to show you how disappointed I am with you, my love…"
His smile was dangerous, and Christine skittered away from him, smiling coyly. She eased her feet out of her shoes discreetly.
"You´ll have to catch me first!" she said as she turned and bolted out of the room and into their bedroom, locking the door behind herself. She slipped into the closet and, selecting a sexy teddy, slipped out of her dress. I´ll just unlock the door once I´m ready…
"And so, you have not yet learned?" came Erik´s voice as the lights went out.
Oh, dear. Christine fumbled with the teddy, frustrated.
"Erik! I need to get ready!"
She felt herself in his arms, suddenly, and she realized with a shock that he was undressed, too. His eyes glowed down at her.
"Oh, I believe that you are quite ready…"
The air was heavy with desire, but Christine rallied and pushed against Erik´s chest half-heartedly. "What did you buy me sexy lingerie for, if you´re going to swoop down on me before I can put it on?"
"You invited me to catch you, did you not? Consider yourself caught," he said, his voice both gentle in its tones yet rough with desire. The fragrance that radiated from his skin – of cologne, of masculine desire, of impatient, excited lust – excited a warmth within Christine, a carnal need for him.
He gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She expected him to take her immediately, roughly, and though she welcomed him, she tensed slightly.
"No," he said, and his eyes and voice were tender in spite of his need. "I´ll not hurt you, Christine. Not now. There is a before and an after with us, my love. I beg your forgiveness for what passed between us before…"
He lit a candle without the aid of a match somehow, and shadows danced on the walls. He extinguished an odd spark of light between long, graceful fingers, then turned to Christine, his eyes brilliant. The valleys and ridges formed by flesh, bone, and bulky muscle were new to her – the sight of a man´s nude body was new to her, and the pleasure and shock of seeing Erik thus caused her to close her eyes involuntarily. She heard his low chuckle and felt his warmth as he leaned over her once more.
His hands caressed her flesh lightly, gently, and he kissed her deeply, but he allowed her to breathe. Beneath his self-control, something was wound more tightly than a watch-spring. She could feel it, and she marvelled. Discipline. Control.
When have I ever touched him? He was propped on his elbow, his shoulders looming over her, and she reached out with tentative fingers and stroked him gently from his shoulder to his elbow, feeling the muscles which knotted under his soft skin. He stiffened for a split second, then seemed to melt imperceptibly into her touch, and her fingers were clearly at the vortex of his awareness. She moved her hand over his chest, his rib cage, and to the tense, rippled muscles of his abdomen, which relaxed gradually as she stroked him. She closed her eyes as her hand moved lower, still too timid to look, and she felt the turgid length of him and the silken skin which covered it. She drew her hand back, frightened by the size and the iron-hardness of him, remembering the night he had torn her apart.
"Christine," he murmured gently, and she opened frightened eyes to look into his tender, unmasked gaze. He nudged her gently onto her back, but instead of the urgent coupling she had expected, he nuzzled at her neck, and gentle fingers caressed her, centering finally between her legs, exciting a need for him that was deeper and more urgent with each second. She could hear him as he stifled a moan, she could smell his desire as its musky fragrance filled the air, and she felt herself fairly melting in response. Her desire coated his fingers, and he hovered above her, gently parting her thighs with his hips.
She could feel him gaining entrance, pushing into her gently, pressing. He slid into her easily this time, and she shifted to accommodate his size once more. He filled and stretched her, and she could nearly hear him grit his teeth as he controlled himself one second more, remaining still as he assured himself that he was not hurting her. She felt the need to draw him into her and instinctively shifted position slightly, permitting him the most depth that she possibly could. This silent invitation broke through his careful control, and, gasping, he pulled back to thrust into her as deeply as possible.
Christine was surprised by her own body – how the muscles deep inside her worked to hold him within her. As she could feel herself pulling him into her depths, she could hear him moan in pleasure at the silent welcome of it: He had been kissing her, nuzzling her, lost in the tactile pleasure of these moments, but now he simply looked down at her, moving within her slowly and relishing her need of him – the body that held him, the eyes that adored him. A snatch of something passed between them – With my body I thee worship! Had he spoken? She ceased to wonder as he drove into her ever more deeply, ever more urgently, relinquishing control completely.
She felt something within herself – a great, yawning hunger for more of him, somehow, and her muscles began to soften around him in want, and he gasped and moaned his pleasure, lost within his own frenetic need of her. Just as she thought she would melt completely around him in pleasant softness, she felt a blossoming – something strong, so sublimely open to his invasion of her flesh – surrender! The petals of the blossom, delicate yet firm, closed and pulsed about him, stroking him in waves of glorious acceptance. He allowed himself to be transported by her, the size of him stretching her even more; at the same time, he thrust into her one last, deep time, shuddering in absolute bliss.
He rested atop her for a long moment, whispering to her and kissing her, more gently now. He eased her over, then, until she was lying on top of him, making sure that the eiderdown covered her. He held her to him gently, one arm about her waist, another holding her head against his shoulder. He allowed his fingers to stroke her hair, and she could feel his breathing return to normal. An ineffable peace enveloped them now, and she was reluctant to speak. Words were inadequate.
One thing – only one thing. "So this is marriage," she finally murmured.
"Yes," he concurred. "You understand, now, at last."
"The love…" she added.
"…and the time," he whispered. "All the years that lie before us, be they good or bad."
Nadir entered Rose´s studio with an offering of sandwiches and juice. He usually brought her coffee, but news of her condition had plunged him into uncertainty over what food and drink he should be buying for her.
He found Rose busily working with a wooden stretcher bar, preparing it for a canvas. Brushes in paint thinner lined a nearby counter, and the usual pine-based chemical stink reigned in the air.
"Nade!" she greeted him with her usual warmth. She tapped at a nail carefully, then glanced up at him. "A very Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, or Happy Kwanzaa to you, or whatever it is you celebrate today…"
"I´ll settle for 'Happy Holidays,' my dear," said Nadir, smiling warmly. He perched on a stool awkwardly, observing Rose carefully. His hand reached for his pocket, clearly itching for a cigarette, but he seemed to think the better of it, and he lowered his hand, resting it on his knee.
Rose glanced up at him. "Forget your cigs?" she asked, smiling.
"No," answered Nadir, continuing his observation of her.
She arrived at a stopping-point and put down the stretcher.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked as she dusted off her hands. "Did I grow another head?"
"Forgive me," said Nadir. "It wasn´t my intention to stare.
"I´m afraid that I´m about to offend you further by invading your privacy, Rose," he continued. "You see, I know that you are expecting a baby."
Rose froze for a minute. "How could you know?"
"I´ll explain later. I feel that you and I are very close, Rose…"
"Yeah, well, we´ve been lovers, but I guess it´s over now," she said brusquely. Tears started in her eyes, belying her harsh tone of voice. She wiped them away with the back of her hands.
Nadir approached her and took her into his arms.
"It´s not nearly over, Rose," he murmured.
She looked at him, incredulity gracing her features.
"Look, you know the baby´s not yours, don´t you?" she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "You haven´t come here thinking that the protection you were using failed somehow, right…?"
Nadir winced and held up his hands. Stop!
"I´m perfectly aware of the truth, Rose."
"It was a fling I had just before I met you, Nadir. The guy turned out to be a jerk, though, and I haven´t seen him since…"
"Please, Rose. I require no explanations. I am here for an entirely different reason. Haven´t we been friends, you and I? Haven´t we been lovers? I shall not abandon you, Rose. If you permit, we will assume a new truth: I am and will continue to be the father of your child. I will care for you and this child for as long as I live, if you consent to it." His voice was soft, but firm.
Rose stared at Nadir in shock for the full length of a minute, then burst into noisy tears. He held her, patting her back gently as she sobbed.
"There, there," he murmured. "It´s not so bad, now, is it?"
"You´re too good to be true," she sobbed.
"Oh, I wouldn´t say that," said Nadir. "I snore terribly, I keep dreadful hours, and I smoke like a chimney. I´m a terrible cook and a worse housekeeper, and I won´t tell you what my insurance agent has said about my driving…"
In his arms, Rose hiccoughed her laughter.
For days, Erik and Christine were loath to leave the bedroom, so they took little note of Nadir´s absence from their study.
Erik´s newfound peace surprised Christine. She had not given any thought to the idea that marriage could change a man – after all, it was common knowledge that the opposite was true. Erik is different, she reminded herself for the thousandth time.
His response to her touch was another surprise. She had spent so much of their time together simply responding to his advances – or pushing him away – that she had not had time to take the initiative physically. He had been startled and had stiffened the first few times she had kissed and touched him – then, he had leaned into her touch anxiously. As a consequence, she touched him whenever an opportunity arose – and they arose often, since they were alone together.
They hardly slept and scarcely ate.
Finally, the outside world could no longer be neglected, and Erik was obliged to answer e-mails, phone calls, and finally to sit down to reams of paperwork at his desk. At his request, Christine remained in the study with him.
She decided to clean. Although Erik was a scrupulously clean person, there were years of dust and cobwebs in some of the more recondite corners of the study. He glanced at her as she picked a spider up in her dustpan and headed out toward the garden with it.
"Why not simply kill it? It would save you trouble," he said curiously.
"Hey, I like spiders!" she protested, and she escorted the creature out the door.
The farthest corner of a cabinet yielded a particularly unpleasant surprise, and Erik rose to his feet and approached as Christine stifled a scream and dropped something.
"I had completely forgotten about those," he said, taking Christine, who was still shaking, into his arms.
"Those? There are more than one? How many are there, and how is it you ended up with shrunken heads?"
"There are five," he said simply. The head Christine had dropped on the floor had rolled to its side; it appeared to sleep, its prominent jaw lending it a permanent pout.
"Erik, these people need a decent burial," Christine said, shuddering.
"That won´t be necessary. They´ve been dead for about eighty years now…"
"I don´t care! I´ll…I´ll bury them and pray over them in the garden. Surely we can do something…"
"As you wish. I´ll leave the praying to you, however; I doubt that an animist would appreciate being buried according to Christian ritual."
Erik prepared a plot for the heads in the garden, then retreated into the study as Christine buried them. Nadir found him at his piano, scribbling on stave paper furiously.
"Inspired, are we? I take it the honeymoon is going well," he said as he sat down to observe Erik´s efforts. Erik surfaced long enough to glance at him and offer him a curt greeting, then turned to the piano and picked out something sprightly in G major.
Nadir smiled. "And where´s your bride?"
"In the garden, burying heads," responded Erik, still scribbling.
Nadir froze and stared at Erik, then drew a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and contemplated it sadly. "I had succeeded in quitting for three days, Erik…three days! Three minutes with you, however, have been enough to subvert my efforts entirely."
"Done!" said Christine, as she entered the study and shelved her prayer-book. "Oh, hello, Mr. Khan! How´s Rose?"
"Fine, just fine. I think she´s finally learning to eat decently," commented Nadir, smiling. "I´ll be taking her to the New Year´s Eve Ball, and I´ve come to ask whether you two will be coming. I know you´ve never cared to attend, Erik, but now that you´re a properly-harnessed married man, perhaps you´d like to show off your new wife."
"Will we be going, Erik?" asked Christine, moving to stand behind him, then rubbing his shoulders affectionately.
Erik closed his eyes, enraptured.
"Well?" Nadir persisted.
"Mmmm…? Yes," murmured Erik. "Of course."
"Then I´ll tell Rose. She will be pleased. She´s new to this sort of thing, and it will be of comfort to her to have a friend at the Ball, Christine."
"I´ll call Meg and Rose, then, and we can all go shopping together," said Christine. She was kneading Erik´s shoulders again, and she glanced down at him, a devilish light in her eyes. He missed it; his eyes were still closed. Something sexy to wear on New Year´s Eve, mused Christine happily.