Oof. First half of this chapter is also rated M. :p I know, I know, stop with the smut, Madi! Haha. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter, as always, and don't hesitate to leave me your thoughts!

Chapter 25

The next few days came and went, and Christine's worries were somewhat tamed when no problems arose. Adele had gone away to visit family for a bit, so Christine was thrilled to wake up with Erik each morning. Even when her dreams were haunted with terrifying images of Raoul and his men invading her happy life, she woke up blissful as ever as soon as she realized she was still in Erik's warm, safe embrace.

Since Adele was gone, Christine spent her days doing the housekeeper's usual chores. Erik had tried to tell her not to bother, and had even gotten angry with her, but she insisted. He would not let her do them alone, however, and so they spent most of the day side by side.

Christine could not imagine being happier.

It was just dawn one morning when she woke to soft, gentle kisses all over her face. Still mostly asleep, she wondered if she were merely dreaming, but those hot lips brushed down her neck soon after, and across her collarbone… Despite her sleepy state, each kiss was enough to send a flash of heat to her core, desire pooling in her belly. Squirming, she emitted a moaning sigh, and could feel her husband's upturn of lips at the sound.

No, not a dream at all, it seemed.

How Christine loved waking up like this. Erik had made a habit of waking her quite early with sweet kisses whenever he had to leave for town that day. Had he mentioned anything the day before about needing to leave? She could not remember.

Erik kissed down her naked torso, dipping his tongue down to taste her skin, lingering at her stomach for a while. He knew his sweet bride was impatient when it came to her desires, and yet he loved nothing more than building her anticipation, making her wait. He continued his quest, feeling her body begin to tremble before him when he bent down and softly kissed up her thighs, moving closer to where he knew she burned.

The waiting was excruciating, and though Christine had only minutes before been relaxed and motionless, she now shook all over, unable to keep from squirming as he kissed her inner thighs with utmost gentleness, his warm tongue burning her skin. She felt as is she might cry if he did not kiss her where she needed him to, but before she could, he so generously gave her what she wanted.

Ever tentative, ever gentle, he kissed and licked between her legs with care, knowing with experience exactly how to bring his Christine pleasure. She moaned quietly but squirmed more aggressively than before. No, that will not do, he thought, bringing his large, strong hands to her waist, holding her in place.

She was on fire now, craving release already even as the delicious feelings grew. When he inserted a single finger inside of her as he continued his attentions with his mouth, she tangled her fingers in his sparse hair, the bronze strands soft to the touch. Her sleepy moans were soon replaced by louder cries, and she saw stars behind her closed eyes when the pleasure finally found its peak, and she shattered.

Christine was just coming back to Earth when Erik went to hover atop her, and she heard his warm greeting in her ear. "Good morning." He kissed the space underneath her ear, making his way to her parted lips and then kissing them with tenderness.

She giggled breathlessly as she felt his demanding arousal against her thigh. "Indeed," she breathed in response against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and parting her legs for him.

Erik made love to her gently, passionately, and only found his own release when she had found hers for the second time that morning. Her heart fluttered with the realization of just how selfless and wonderful he was, and she expressed her gratitude with loving caresses and kisses on his mask-less face.

They were snuggled up to one another afterward, entangled in their usual embrace, when Christine randomly released a giggle.

"What is funny? Erik asked, smiling at her strange, sudden giddiness.

"Nothing," she giggled. "I just…I would like to wake up like this more often." She lifted her head to smile wickedly at him, and he joined in her laughter.

"Insatiable girl," he growled playfully, kissing her mouth once. "I am sure that can be arranged."

"Were you planning on leaving today?" she wondered aloud, her brow furrowing.

Erik sighed. "I told you yesterday at breakfast; I have a few errands to run today. We are running low on food. I thought you had heard me, but I guess you were too interested in your food." He laughed again, and she flushed a bright pink that twisted his stomach with its loveliness. When Erik realized it was from embarrassment that she blushed, he quickly stopped laughing. "Which is completely understandable, my dear," he assured her, placing a gentle hand on her slightly swollen stomach. "You are eating for two, after all."

"I am getting larger everyday," she mumbled self-consciously.

"And more beautiful," he added, his voice honey smooth, and right then, Christine felt a strange twitch in her abdomen.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Erik, did you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

Christine moved his hand to where she thought she had felt the twitch, and pressed it harder against her skin.

"What are you-" he started to ask, but then he felt the tiniest nudge against his hand, freezing. When he realized what that twitch meant, he felt as if he would burst from the overwhelming joy that was…almost too much for him to bear.

Wide blue eyes, glistening with awe, met Christine's, and she was sure her own eyes mirrored his. "Our baby," she whispered. "I have never felt it move before just now."

"Extraordinary," he breathed, an almost childlike wonder filled expression on his face. Christine choked up at the sight, having never quite seen that specific look on Erik's face before. Even without his mask, in that moment, he had never looked more beautiful to her.

Christine stood on the front doorstep and watched as Erik rode off on Caesar toward town. He was clad in his usual, all black attire, and luckily the day was cloudy and cool. Otherwise, she imagined he would be sweltering underneath all that clothing. She waited until he was out of sight before reluctantly going back inside, locking the door behind her.

Erik had been very clear that she was to stay inside, and keep all of the doors and windows locked, and that if anyone was to come knocking she should hide until he returned. She had agreed, but Christine was not that worried. Erik would only be gone for half the day, and they had gotten no sign of Raoul or anyone snooping around their home at all.

Perhaps Raoul had given up, after all. She could only hope.

Christine set about her chores after breakfast, which did not take too long to complete. The bouquet of flowers that she had arranged for the dinner table were seeing their final days, so she decided to pick a new arrangement in the garden. She remembered Erik's strict warning to remain indoors, but she internally rolled her eyes, not seeing any harm in it if she was quick about it.

She hastily made her way to the garden, picking the brightest, most colorful arrangement of flowers that she could. Despite the grey skies, she was in a jovial mood after the surreal morning she and Erik had had, and she wanted her flowers to depict just that.

She did keep an eye and ear out, just in cast, but of course there was not even the hint of anyone nearby. Christine felt more and more relaxed, knowing that obviously no one would come for them. She went back inside and put her new bouquet in the vase on the table, taking a step back to admire her work. A satisfied smile adorned her face, but then, her stomach growled.

All of the activity had worked up quite an appetite, and Christine went to the kitchen in search of something sweet like she so suddenly craved. Unfortunately, she found that she had finished the last of the fruit and pastries that very morning at breakfast, and that Erik would be returning with more that evening. Sighing, she reached for a plain slice of bread, but then a thought paused her.

There was a berry bush not very far into the woods that she and Erik had come across a while back on one of their summer walks together. She could almost taste those ripe, sweet berries on her tongue just thinking about them, her mouth watering. Surely she could go retrieve some without incident, could she not?

She knew Erik would no doubt be furious if he found out, would likely throw a furious fit, but he did not have to know. He would not be home until much later, after all.

Christine donned Erik's cloak, her favorite because it always smelled of his natural, spicy musk, and lifted the hood for caution. If she were to break the rules, at least she would be safe while she did. She found an empty basket in the kitchen and lined the inside with a clean cloth for the berries, and then went out the backdoor and strode quickly into the forest.

She was glad that she had decided to wear a thicker, long sleeved dress that morning. It really was chilly, and the wind was blowing fiercely. Honestly, though, Christine did not mind. Sunny days were wonderful, but she had grown a strange fondness for overcast skies.

After a while of searching, Christine eventually found the berry bush, having been farther into the forest that she had originally thought. She picked as many as she could find, popping a few of the tart fruits into her mouth as she did and sighing happily. She felt an excited little flutter in her belly, and she had to pause to smile and pat it tenderly.

It seemed the baby had wanted berries as well.

She picked until her basket was nearly full, and Christine had finally turned to leave when a flash of movement caught her eye. Some distance away, a figure stood leaning against a tree casually, watching her. And it was with a sinking stomach that she realized it was a man.

He did not look familiar, but still, the sight of anyone was enough to cause panic, and Christine's heart rate quickened as she froze.

From afar, he just looked like an average man. Dark hair, dark beard, slim; nothing stood out about him. His face held no malice or anger or ill will. When he hesitantly took a step forward slowly, she stumbled a step back, though nothing about his posture seemed threatening. In fact, despite his slow movement, he seemed quite relaxed.

"Good day, Madame," he called, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I did not mean to startle you. I was only hoping you might be of service to me."

He seemed friendly enough. Though part of Christine still wanted to run, just to be safe, the other part was concerned as to what he needed. As he came closer, Christine watched him warily, still too guarded to speak.

"Forgive me," he said in a way that one might address a scared child, his dark eyes assessing her. "I am only looking for…someone, and then I came upon you. Maybe you can help me?"

He seemed genuinely concerned that he had frightened her, and Christine finally found the courage to reply. "I am n-not sure I can, Monsieur," she said with as much firmness as she could muster. "I know of no one around here besides my husband and myself. Who is it you are looking for?"

He stopped when he was still a few yards away from her, his head cocking to the side as he looked at her. "A young woman. A Miss Christine Daaé," he watched her carefully as he said her name from before she had married. "Have you heard of her?"

Christine's stomach gave a nervous twist, and her heart pounded erratically. Oh no. One of Raoul's men! She prayed that her face remained neutral. "I have not," she said curtly, hoping he would not notice how her voice shook.

"How unfortunate… Oh, pardon my rudeness. Allow me to introduce myself." He bowed like a gentlemen. "I am Paul. Paul Clément."

She could not tell if his friendliness was a farce or not, and she saw how he waited expectantly for her introduction as well. "Pleased to meet you, Monsieur," she said politely. "I am…Madame Barre. Adele Barre." She gave her housekeeper's name, the first that came to mind, as she curtsied.

Just then, a strong gust of wind came about and flew through the trees, rusting the leaves on the ground and blowing Christine's hood back, exposing her head.

The man, Paul, gave a knowing look when he saw those unmistakable brown curls. "Funny," he murmured. "For you match Miss Daaé's description perfectly."

Oh no. Oh God!

Christine ignored his comment, her heart fluttering like a bird's. "Forgive me Monsieur, my husband is waiting for me. I must be getting back to my home." She turned to leave, and to her horror, two strong hands clamped down on her shoulders, and she gasped in shock and fear.

"Oh, no you do not Christine," Paul said, sounding a little amused. "You are coming with me. I know of someone who will be very pleased to see you."

Christine turned to the man, tears already welling in her eyes. "Please, you have to let me be," she begged, and she watched his eyebrows come together in confusion. "I do not love Raoul anymore. That is whom you are working for, yes? The Vicomte de Chagny?"

After a long pause, Paul nodded.

"I just want to be with my husband in peace. I love him, my husband. And we just want to be left alone to live our lives together. Please, do not do this…" a sob broke through her chest. "You cannot do this!"

Paul looked torn, as if her tears had an affect on him. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, and then huffed out a breath in frustration. When he spoke, his voice was regretful. "I am only doing my job, Madame. Now, come. Do not make this harder than it has to be, I beg of you."

He tried to take her hand, but she was already running. What else could she do? Christine ran as fast as she could, careful to run in the direction away from their house. There was no way she would lead Paul there to wait for Erik, but maybe she could evade Paul and get home safely whenever she lost him.

That thought was trumped immediately when strong arms restrained her waist and she felt heavy breathing on her neck. Christine screamed and screamed, hopeless tears streaming down her face as she fought and kicked and scratched, and finally, Paul's pained voice sounded in her ear. "I did not want to have to do this, but you asked for it, Miss."

Before Christine could comprehend what he was saying, what he meant, he pressed a dirty cloth to her nose and mouth. An unfamiliar, strange, strong scent invaded her senses, and she could feel her body grow weak as little black dots blocked her vision.

The last thing she could do before she was unconscious was whisper her husband's name.