M Rated Chapter
E/C fluff is finally here, so consider yourselves warned. Turn back now if you're offended by intimacy… Who am I kidding? You all are going to be reading regardless, aren't you? -looks around the room to see if anyone is getting up and leaving-

CHAPTER 36

It was well into the night when Christine decided to check in with her husband. Alhena had formally announced her mother's passing earlier to the rest of the group and was now sitting in the garden. Her head rested peacefully on Nadir's shoulder as he consoled her, stroking her raven locks softly.

Erik sat quietly in the chair beside Amala's bed, staring poignantly at her in the soft golden hue of the dimmed lamplight. Her last words circled through his mind. "I can die in peace now, knowing you've found one another." His sister was no doubt taking the passing even more painfully than he was, having spent her childhood wrapped within her mother's love. Yet no one could understand his own pain and emptiness. The tortured life he always privately believed he was born into was just a lie created by a madwoman. The trials he endured growing up, the many mistakes and their consequences that he'd created needlessly, all could have been avoided if he'd had the fortune to know his real mother from the start.

Erik sighed, lowering his head in regret. It had been his sincerest wish once he had found his sister, to return and spend more time with this strange, yet wondrous woman. He had hoped to learn from her, and show her the talents and skills she'd given him, wondering what her laughter might have sounded like after so many years of sorrow. "But we do not always get what we want." He knew this, but it was still hard for him to accept that fact. It was usually easy for him to get what he wanted, either with money or by power of suggestion. But death…death was something he could neither prevent nor predict. As he dwelt on these truths, a tender hand lay upon his shoulder, stirring him from his musings. He looked up at Christine, her pure, angelic face staring down at his. He felt the love he held for her quickly tempering the grief within his soul.

"Erik? Can I get you anything?"

Shaking his head briefly, he brought one hand up to wipe at his eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's late… a quarter to midnight."

"You should be in bed. Didn't Valente…" His voice held a trace of concern.

She smiled softly, interrupting him. "Everything is fine, mon amour."

"Then, what is the matter?"

"I know I have no right to ask this, especially now." Her eyes rested upon Amala's restful form. "I'm so sorry, Erik…for your loss…" She wished she could say something more, but all she felt were hot tears beginning to surface. She hadn't been able to deal with her own father's passing, crying countless times during the days that followed his death. Months turned into years and nothing had taken away that pain of loss. That is, until Erik came into her life. They lifted each others spirits and enriched each others lives in ways that were indescribable. Ever since that day, all of his emotions had been shared with her. Unfortunately in this fateful moment, his all-encompassing sadness was hers as well.

"Mon ange, tell me what it is you wish to ask." He encouraged her to continue.

She half turned nervously, feeling like she was intruding upon his solitude. "I…I was just wondering…would you to come to bed with me."

"Christine…" he was puzzled by her request.

"It's just that we've been traveling for so many weeks across the desert and never once had we the comforts of an actual bed. I would just like to have one night with you, before we are off again."

Erik furrowed his brow in displeasure. He couldn't believe she would request such a thing from him. "To share physical intimacy now, under my mother's roof as she lay in wake, would be an abomination! How could she even dare to ask this of me?" Granted, he recalled, they had not been able to make love whilst in the company of their peers. In fact, he hadn't been intimate with her since he had brought her from the hospital, shortly after finding out she was in Bornu with Raoul. "That was quite some time ago," he suddenly realized in dismay. He was genuinely surprised at how much time had passed since their last coupling. He simply hadn't had the time to even think on it, having so many other concerns to occupy him.

"Erik?" Christine spoke up, seeing her husband lost in thought.

He reached forth, taking her hands in his. He kissed each upturned palm firmly. "I apologize for overlooking my duties to you, as a husband. I should be more sensitive to your needs."

Christine cocked her head to the side and then thought about what he was saying to her. She blushed. "Oh, dear…no, no, no," she waved her hands at his presumptions, giggling despite herself. "I should have made myself clearer. I just wished for you to join me in bed to sleep."

His faint smile echoed hers. "I don't think I'll be able to get any sleep tonight, beloved. Go on without me."

"It's been a trying day for everyone, Erik." She squeezed his hands and began to slowly pull him toward the doorway. "Come to bed with me and we will take care of this in the morning…together."

The soft brown of her eyes soothed him, as it always did. He would follow her to the ends of the earth. Following her to their room was not so very difficult at all.

They had decided on taking Amala's remains back to France and scattering her ashes at their father's grave in Père Lachaise. There was no Will, with which they could reference her final requests, thus leaving the decision for her children to make.

While Erik and Alhena attended to the preparation of their mother's body, the rest of the group gathered Amala's belongings, packing them neatly into wooden crates. They would be shipped separately, with instructions to be delivered to La Maison de Roses. The deed to the house itself, Erik carefully concealed, knowing both he and his sister would never feel the urge to return.

The day of their departure was upon them now and there was one thing left for Erik to take care of in order to say farewell to this part of the world. They all had questioned his insistence on a side trip, wondering what could be so pressing as to prevent him from traveling with them to Tangier. Nadir alone, knew what it had been about, declaring he would accompany him to the Souss Valley. While Christine was not thrilled at Erik's decision, Nadir's inclusion did ease the fears of her husband traveling alone.

As the two men made ready to depart, Alhena spoke up. "I, too, shall meet you all at the port in Tangier. I have a promise to keep with the Sultan," she reminded them.

"Monsieur Marceau?" Erik addressed Guifford. The two men had spoken little in their time together. Partly due to Erik's mistrust of people he didn't know, as well as Guifford's own fear of this masked man who had turned the world he knew upside down. "I know you are not under my employ, but if I could ask that you escort my sister, I would be most grateful to you."

Guifford glanced over at Raoul, who simply nodded in approval. The Comte had faith in the big man, and felt beholden to him for helping keep his wife safe.

"I am capable of taking care of myself, brother." Alhena glared at Erik archly.

"Naturally, but this is not up for debate."

"Don't you even begin to think you can dismiss me so easily."

"We can discuss this at length later, but for now, please just humor me."

Alhena held her retort, seeing the worry on her brother's face. It had been a stressful time for both of them. Her own experiences with Guifford were such, that she knew he could be trusted. In truth, having a large and formidable escort might not be a bad idea after all.

Guifford bowed clumsily in Erik's direction. "I'll keep her safe sir. You have my word. Indeed, I'm most indebted to you for saving my life."

In an uncharacteristic act on his part, Erik walked up to the man and took his hand. "I am equally indebted to you. And as long as I draw breath, I will remember your efforts on behalf of my wife and my sister."

Flushing awkwardly, Guifford nodded his head, making his way over to Alhena's side. The two of them mounted their horses and rode off, waving goodbye as they went.

They parted their separate ways at the base of the mountain, each taking a final glance up at the solitary home as they rode off. Raoul, Meg, Christine, Valente, and Darius were all bound for Tangier, while Alhena and Guifford journeyed toward the Sultan's palace. Erik and Nadir, on the other hand, would not have to travel far to reach their destination.

The ride toward the Berber family farm had been made in relative silence, no small feat for Nadir to accomplish normally, but he sincerely admired Erik for what he was preparing to do, "For even acknowledging it, for that matter," the Persian smiled. He had never known Erik to be forthcoming when it involved admitting his deceptions to the person or people he had outfoxed.

With the others far behind them now, Erik and Nadir looked ahead toward the rough-hewn home belonging to Tajmar Zahid, the strange old man who had given them the Arabians they now rode upon. He was herding his livestock as they arrived, clapping a stick against his leg as the sound caused the beasts to move in the direction he wanted. He looked up at the approaching figures, pulling a handkerchief from a front pocket and wiping at the perspiration on his brow.

"Monsieur Zahid?" Erik called out. "Allow me a word, if you please."

The old man chuckled. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd arrive."

"Pardon?" Erik asked curiously, dismounting his horse.

Declining to comment further, Tajmar waved Erik over. "Come! Take a walk with me."

"Go ahead, Erik. I'll stay here with the horses." Nadir held out his hand for Atreus's reins.

Side by side, the two men walked quietly, virtually shoulder to shoulder. Occasionally Tajmar would stop to stare into the heavens and smile and then continue along the banks of the whispering river once more.

Coughing to break the silence, Erik spoke up. "Atreus and Thyestes served us well on our journey. I thank you for entrusting them to me."

"So, you've taken care of whatever it was you needed to do then?" Tajmar bent to pick up a smooth stone. He stood back up considering it carefully.

Smiling wistfully, Erik replied. "I did."

"And what of your mother and sister?"

"My sister and I were able to share but a brief moment with her before she..." Erik swallowed hard and walked ahead of Tajmar a few feet. He could not bring himself to finish his words, not wanting to speak of his mother's death in grave detail. That was not why he was here. "I've come to return your horses to you."

"But they do not belong to me," Tajmar answered simply. He threw his rock across the water, watching it skip across the surface several times before landing with a splash. He accepted the fact that the previous issue was not one Erik was willing to share. Though, his body language told him all he needed to know.

"If you mean to say that they are rightly mine, I would have to disagree with you. I fear I have committed a great injustice against you." Erik began to unravel his shemagh, facing the direction of the rippling river.

Tajmar turned and placed his hand upon Erik's shoulder. "I gave you my word that they would be yours."

"But I did not." Erik turned to face him, the mask now plainly visible upon his face.

"I see." The old man brought his hands behind him, making a show of considering the words.

"I want you to know that I had no intentions of ever returning here once I had left." Erik admitted.

Tajmar remained silent, patiently waiting.

"It is not guilt that brings me back," Erik clarified, unsure of what to make of the man's odd stare. "It was wisdom. I know now that the mask will always be a part of me, not by choice of my own, but to keep away those who would otherwise not understand."

The old man looked him up and down. "You've given this much thought, have you?"

"I have." Erik removed his mask and offered it to him freely. "This, like the other I had given to you in exchange for your Arabians, is not the only mask I own," he confessed, as Tajmar accepted it, turning it over in his hands.

"Tell me then why do you offer this to me?" He held it up to the sky, considering the reflection the sun cast along its alabaster length.

"Because you have been a friend, and it is in the presence of such, that I have no need to conceal my true self."

Tajmar smiled, looking to the sky once more. "Well, it seems I've gotten much more than I had hoped for," he laughed heartily.

Erik raised his eyebrow, wondering what had prompted such boisterous laughter.

"Oh, my boy," he tried to calm himself, placing his hand against his stomach. "Forgive me for my outburst."

Erik scowled in confusion. "Care to tell me what it is you find so amusing?"

"It is not amusement that fuels my laughter, but joy!"

"Joy? To be in possession of one mask when I have many?" Erik asked incredulously. He stared at it, still firmly within Tajmar's grasp.

"Do not think me feebleminded simply because of the way I choose to live. I knew you would have more where this came from." Tajmar held the mask up and continued to explain. "The journey to redemption was already laid out before you. It was merely up to you to choose the correct path toward it."

"I'm not quite sure I'm following you correctly."

Tajmar moved to sit upon a large rock, giving his weary feet a moment's rest. "In coming back, you have earned your right to those Arabians…and this." He held out the mask to Erik. "And might I add that it was a lot more than I had bargained for."

"You knew I would return? How is that possible?"

"I didn't know. I did however, have faith."

The more they spoke, the more Tajmar reminded Erik of Nadir. They were both very passionate about their beliefs and quite quirky when it came to discussing it in the context of a higher purpose.

"I still do not understand." Erik stared at the older man, amazed at the turn of events.

"A horse is simply a beast of burden, despite its worth, or breeding or heritage." Tajmar explained. "Men though, have an inner voice. One that speaks to them in the stillness of their hearts. It guides us in all we do. We are all keepers of our destinies, Erik. Go proudly, knowing you've awakened responsibly to your own."

"So will you still take no payment for those fine horses, my friend?"

Smiling sagely, Tajmar waived him off. "Let them bear you home, in peace and in happiness."

Knowing there was nothing he could add to those wise words, and his feelings once more betraying him, Erik simply replied. "Be well, Tajmar." He gripped the old man's hand and shook it firmly. He then bowed and walked away toward Nadir and the horses.

"I shall see you in the next life, Erik!" Tajmar called out to him, waving his handkerchief in farewell.

Erik glanced back over his left shoulder and gave the elder Chleuh a half smile. "I shall expect no less!"

Nadir met Erik halfway, all the while grinning as he approached with Atreus in tow.

"And what are you smiling about?" Erik inquired, as he climbed atop his horse.

"I just find it extremely amusing that the old fellow bested you." The Persian adjusted his saddle to face him, guessing the outcome of what had transpired from afar.

"He did not." Erik looked back again, smiling at the old farmer from a distance. "I came of my own accord and now I am leaving on my terms."

"Whatever you wish to believe, old boy…" Nadir laughed, turning his horse and riding ahead, leaving his words hanging in the air between him and his companion.

Erik narrowed his eyes, wrapping his hands about the reins and digging his heels into Atreus' sides to spur him forward. "You'd better pray to Allah that I don't catch up to you!" He yelled after him.

Minutes later, Tajmar made his way back toward his house. As he walked along the riverbank, he knew that he had made the right decision. While the horses he'd given were indeed rare and valuable animals, he felt comforted in his resolve to help another man find his way. His son, of course, would again curse him for a fool for not taking any money. "One day perhaps, he might understand." To Tajmar, it mattered not that they were poor, nearly bankrupt in fact, as long as his conscience was clean.

"All will be right in the end." He spoke aloud as he walked, bathing in the light of the sun. He shoved his hands in his pocket, striding casually as he approached his home. His brow furrowed as his hand encountered something in his pocket he was unaware of. He pulled forth from his pants, a thick envelope. He carefully broke the seal and opened it, gasping at its contents. It was the deed of ownership to a property in far-off Taddert. There was also an intricate map of the house, showing its many rooms and huge land holdings. Finally there was a brief note, written in an elegant yet rushed script.

I had a feeling you still wouldn't take payment for the horses, my friend. So instead, take this, and all of my gratitude. The house belonged to my mother, as wise and wonderful a woman as anyone could ever be fortunate to meet. I do not give you this as payment for our mounts, but in the sincere hope that your wisdom and your will, shall give the house life and laughter once more.

-Erik Delacroix

Tajmar smiled, staring off at the fading dust trail that the two men on horseback had kicked up minutes earlier as they rode off toward the north. His laughter was infectious as he entered his house, exchanging the bright sunlight for the comfort of the cool shadows inside.

The port in Tangier was the central meeting place for the journey across the Strait of Gibraltar and into Andalucía, Spain. That would be but the first stop on the way to France; the rest of the trip to be made by train. Chelal tavern sat along its docks, catering to travelers and locals abound. Today it played host to Raoul and his party, as they awaited Erik and Alhena's separate arrivals.

Oddly enough, Erik and Nadir had arrived ahead of Alhena and Guifford. The two men assumed it was because of their mode of transportation; the Arabians being far more capable of covering distances swifter than the barbs his sister and her escort rode.

As time passed, they continued to wait. Just as Erik was about to worry over Alhena's whereabouts, she and Guifford appeared at the far end of the docks. "Not a moment too soon." He smiled, raising his hand to greet them.

Coming to a stop before him, Erik helped his sister off her mount while Guifford attended to their horses. The others had remained inside of the tavern, enjoying their afternoon tea and quiet conversations.

"What's all this then?" Erik asked Alhena, as she lay out a series of satchels and bags upon the ground

"Care to take a guess?"

"What do you think?" Erik smirked wryly.

"Mother apparently had some personal items at the palace. It was the reason for our delay." She nodded over at Guifford as he tipped his hat and stepped into the tavern.

"What items?" He wondered, picking up a book at random and leafing through it.

"Sketches and personal journals mostly, a few pieces of jewelry, and a curious wooden musical box. I figured we could go through these together on the way to France"

"A music box?"

"Yes, but it's broken. Haven't you been paying attention…"

"Can I see that now?"

"Sure, brother," she handed him the last knapsack she carried. "If you don't mind, I'll be inside." She pointed at the building Guifford had disappeared into.

He took the bag, carefully placing it onto the floor beside the other items, and knelt on one knee to sift through it, ignoring her departure.

"Have fun." She shook her head in amusement and walked off.

After a few moments of rummaging, his hand wrapped around something solid, concealed within a thick cloth. He pulled it free and then placed it on top of the bag, undoing the leather binding.

Inside was a wooden box made of walnut. It still held its polished shine, though in some areas it was a bit dull, most likely due to use and time. On its side, was a handle where one could turn and listen to the music. Erik tuned the arm, but there was no resistance. If that was all that was wrong with it, it could be easily fixed. He opened the top and inside lay something he recognized, fondly to his surprise. He assumed it was something his mind had created in dreams, not a childhood memory. That would be impossible. But was it?

A monkey sat upon a box, its joints hinged to presumably move when the music was in play. Dressed in royal blue velvet with gold designs, the monkey appeared to represent an important figure head; a prince or perhaps a nobleman.

Erik touched the figurine with his gloved finger, faintly hearing the music in his mind. "Could this be the tune? Was this my first gift as I was born into this world?" He now had something to keep him occupied during the long trip back home. He would fix it, if only to hear the music that now haunted his mind like an unfinished concerto.

The trip across the Gibraltar had gone well, save for the few times Guifford became ill. Ahead of them was the port of Algeciras, off the coast of Spain. Several ships lay moored in the distance though one in particular drew Raoul's attention. The battleship Solferino, belonging to the French Navy, sat boldly amongst the rest. He wasn't sure what to make of it, though he had a sinking suspicion it had something to do with him.

He was right.

As they disembarked the barge, they were greeted by the crew of the Solferino. Standing in the middle of his fellow naval men was none other than his mother-in-law, Madame Giry.

Of all things, this was something they had not expected to see.

"Maman!" Meg called out excitedly and sprinted across the docks toward her mother.

As the others closed the distance, Madame Giry stared Raoul dead in the eye. "Monsieur, you have much to answer for." She held her daughter tight and placed a kiss upon her forehead.

It had not taken a month for Madame Giry to realize her daughter and new son-in-law were missing. It took a visit to Raoul's estate to confirm what she had already suspected. The London holiday that Raoul had coached his servants into telling was believable to most. However, not by her. The main curiosity was that she had received no word from her daughter about a sudden trip. A honeymoon would have made more sense, but the fact that Christine had accompanied them raised more questions than it did answers. It all came together with her second visit to The House of Roses. Erik's driver, Victor, was not very good at telling lies. Quite honestly, he was afraid of the Madame and didn't wish to find himself on the receiving end of the cane she carried.

She had very little to go on, other than what was left in the note Sebastien had written Raoul, which he had left behind in his haste to depart. With the help of the French Navy, they had sent out two ships; one at the port of Algeciras in the south of Spain and the other in the East at Alicante. Through the process of elimination, and confirmation from the captain of the vessels Raoul and Erik had boarded, she had decided that one or the other would reunite her with her daughter in the end.

A group of six men from the battleship Magenta were sent out as a recovery team to follow Raoul's trail to Zanfara, but further search had turned up nothing. The trail had gone cold at Shamira's Eye and there was no way of knowing for certain which direction he may or may not have taken from there.

All Madame Giry could do was to wait patiently and have faith that her daughter would return home safely. Today was that day she had prayed for. She had much to be thankful for as she held her daughter lovingly. Looking around at the rest of them, familiar faces and strangers alike, she smiled serenely. "I'm sure you all have many tales to tell. Come now, let us go aboard and begin. Shall we?"

Meg returned her mother's hug, full of love and longing. She, in turn, had playfully patted her daughter's stomach as they released the embrace. "Hopefully some good has come from this disappearance of yours." Madame Giry winked. A grandchild would certainly excuse all that had come to pass.

Meg laughed, blushing at the same time. She had no such news to share with her mother, but perhaps when they returned home and by the grace of God, it would happen soon enough. The words they shared were heard by no one, but the look the older Giry gave Raoul as he approached made him certain he was the topic of their mirth.

"Take my wife home, Madame." Raoul held Meg's hands softly as he addressed her mother. "I shall join you both soon in France, but for the moment, I must see to the arrangements of our other friends."

"Can we not all travel together?" Madame Giry asked.

"Perhaps, but the crowded berths of a naval ship are no way to travel for a party as large as ours. Truthfully, after all we've been through, a bit of comfort is in order. I know you have your own room though, and one more body will not be a problem. Especially if that one person is your daughter."

Meg looked at her husband, bewildered at what was happening. Beside her, her mother was nodding in understanding.

Raoul continued. "You two have much to catch up on. I only trust you will do me a favor and let my parents know of my imminent return. The rest of us will travel by train and be back in France by the end of the week."

"You would so willingly abandon your wife like this?" Meg shot him an accusatory glance.

"My dearest, Meg." Raoul took her arm, guiding her apart from her mother. "Quite the contrary, I know how much she has missed you, and I would not dream of separating the two of you for any longer than necessary."

"I won't be apart from you again, my love!" Meg sobbed, her shoulders hitching up and down in time with her tears.

"Listen to me now, little Meg. The Solferino will get you to France a lot faster than the train will. I'm not just thinking of your comfort but of your mother's as well. Think of her all that that she's been through since you've been gone. She deserves to be home now and I would ask that you accompany her and prepare our home for my arrival."

Meg paused, considering it. "You are right, darling. I would not want Maman to go through much more of this. I will go with her. But if you do not hurry home to me by week's end as promised, I will have you spending many nights regretting it!" She laughed, even as the tears flowed down her cheeks.

He leaned close and whispered in her ear. "I shall hold you to your word. I only hope you are not teasing me with these threats of amorous lovemaking."

Reaching up, she grabbed his head in her hands, drawing him down into a fierce kiss. So passionate was their meeting, it caused onlookers to either look away in embarrassment, or whistle in appreciation. Raoul's knees weakened at the sheer intensity of it. When at last they broke the kiss, he knew with certainty that she was not teasing him after all.

Meg stepped back stood by her mother's side once more. She took her by the arm and finally led her up the ramp of the ship.

As Raoul turned away, his face flushed, he met Erik's stare. "Please spare me from your unnecessary taunting," he sighed, seeing the amusement behind the mask.

"Come, Comte." Erik clapped him on the back as he walked by. "We've got a train to catch."

Several days later…

Barcelona was rich in architectural history, from Romanesque to Renaissance and even earlier periods; it was one of Erik's favorite cities for admiring structural magnificence. His legs were crossed, his right hand supporting his chin while his elbow rested atop his thigh. He stared out of the passenger car window, the sun beginning to set in the distance. These last few minutes of light would allow him to view the final set of buildings which stood gloriously out over the horizon.

With the others sipping tea in the dining section of the train, he sat quietly in the private car he had purchased for him and Christine for the remaining leg of their trip across Spain. "I will have to remember to invest in an estate in this country," he noted as the final structure disappeared out of view, leaving him between rolling hills and lush greenery. As the sky darkened, he could spot a few stars becoming visible against the backdrop of night.

"How was your tea, mon ange?" He looked up at her briefly as she entered, and then returned his attention to the window.

"Fine, though I wish you could have joined us."

"You know I am not accustomed to socializing longer than need be. It almost seems this entire trip has been one series of conversations after another. I apologize if I appear selfish, but I just wished to spend this time alone for once."

"I understand." She sat across from him and bent forward to undo the laces of her boots. "I would have stayed with them longer, but I found myself needing some quiet time as well."

Normally it was hard to distract Erik from his analytical observations of the world outside, but he could not help but glance over at his wife out of the corner of his eyes. The dress she had chose to wear today was cut low in front, modestly so of course. Yet, she wore the top ties loose, to compensate for the fullness of her breasts. The months of her pregnancy had been kind to her. Now in her second trimester, her body had blossomed into a thing of beauty.

She caught his sidelong glances as she undressed. "I was thinking, once we reach Melun would it be alright if I changed the bedroom next to ours into a nursery?"

"Whatever you wish," he answered methodically, concentrating on her reflection against the window.

She told him in length, of her plans for the new nursery while she continued to remove her clothing. Erik attempted to be sincere, nodding occasionally as she spoke, but his mind kept drifting to the perfection of her body. He had not looked at her this way for some time now, too anxious to get her back home and resting. But now he allowed himself the pleasure of each curve, following her movements slowly with his eyes.

His answers had become more systematic with each question she posed, though now she awaited a single response in which he remained silent. She had wondered that perhaps he may be thinking the question over carefully before answering. "But I only asked about a bassinet for the baby." It was then that she realized what had been truly holding his attention. His left hand traced over her image in the window longingly, his mouth slightly open unintentionally. Clad now in nothing more than a light cotton chemise, he was purposefully undressing her with his eyes.

The silence between them had gone unnoticed. He continued his worship of her while she reveled in the power she felt over him. Her inhibitions were slowly falling by the wayside, as she could see him mentally working her over in his mind. They were several feet away from each other, but their bodies were calling out in their respective longing.

Erik was transfixed. The train rocked him hypnotically from side to side, fueling a sudden need to make love to her. Christine's own thoughts of pleasure were becoming more and more evident and she too found herself aching to touch and be touched by him. As if reading her thoughts, he stood up and walked over to her. They stared at each other for a moment, saying everything and nothing between their gazes.

And then it happened.

She found herself pinned against the window by his body, raw animal passion in which all external forces were now irrelevant. Past the point of resistance, she closed her eyes in complete abandonment as his hands and mouth fell upon her body in silent time to the music and rhythm he sensed from all around them. "Oh, Erik," she exhaled as his mouth traveled upward against her neck. His hands gripped anxiously at her back as her mouth met his. Her tongue traced his lips encouragingly, and without hesitation he parted his mouth in eager anticipation. His tongue to hers was electrifying; the passion they had both gone so long without was apparent in the fiery kiss they now shared. She affected him in ways unimaginable, an addictive hold for which there was no cure, except to drown in the intoxicating nature of her body. He undid his trousers hurriedly and let them fall, stepping free as he ran his hands up along her thighs, lifting her chemise above her waist.

He entered her recklessly, and it was all she could do not to scream out with pleasure. She twined her legs around him as he held her backside in his grasp. He pushed into her repeatedly, the heat of her body creating an outline of fine mist as it pressed against the cool glass. The carriage melted around her as her whole world became the masterful movements of him inside her, waves of euphoria rising tremendously in her body as a result. His skilled persistence made her feel weak against his commanding strokes, and her body cried out shamelessly for more. The smell of their lovemaking engulfed him in a dizzying bliss as he sought her deeper, to satisfy both her, and the demands his body required.

With every thrust she moaned, long and low uncontrollably, a slave to the exquisite pleasures he wrought upon her in sweet climactic torture. Her nails clawed at his back as he began to push harder and faster against her. Her legs tightened around his waist and her body grew taut as she prepared to lose herself to him.

"God, yes," he groaned, wanting nothing more than to please her before allowing himself to come undone. His eyes grew dark and wild. "Give yourself to me, Christine," he panted roughly.

Her body hummed and arched as ecstasy came to claim her in long gripping waves. He kept his pace as she screamed in delirium, every muscle in her body clenching as wave after wave consumed her.

He grew tense as he watched her shuddering freely against him. He ached to absolve the heaviness that burned deep within him. As she relaxed in his arms, he slowed his moments, despite his body's urgency to give in. His breath was shallow and strained, but he remained in control of himself. He would please her fully or not at all.

His green eyes glinting, he seduced her body possessively in every way. Her eyes now held his piercing gaze and he drew strength from her, where once he had none. The train whistled down the track as his pace gradually quickened, gaining hold of her once more. With each forward thrust, she whimpered and begged him for more. "Oh yes, oh yes…" she bit her bottom lip, resting her head back against the fog covered window in wanton bliss.

"Christine…" His voice was thick with lust as he filled her with long, punishing strokes. "How I've longed to touch you…" He was breathing hard, watching the culmination of emotions coursing hot through her body. "…to feel you." To know that his actions caused such unbridled physical pleasure drove him mad. "Oh, God…." he moaned again, his voice ragged. He grunted with each thrust, provoking her to submit to his powerful dominance over her.

Her whole body gave a shudder as she moaned deeply, succumbing to the rhapsodic tide that washed over her. She clung to him desperately, calling out his name in fevered breaths. He could hold out no further, finally allowing his body to surrender to his carnal desires. He shot forward, driven over the edge by the pulsating rhythms inside him, as his most intimate being was surrounded in a warm velvet caress. He growled, claiming her mouth desperately, and held her tight against him in a fierce embrace.

Together they collapsed to the floor, bathing in the afterglow of their union. Erik welcomed the cool air against his heated skin. He was used to it. Christine, on the other hand, needed to be kept as warm as possible. He would not have her catch a cold if he could prevent it. He reached out for his cape that lay upon the bench he had been sitting on earlier, as she closed her eyes against his chest. Carefully he covered her body, using but a portion of it to cover himself. He then brushed her curls back behind her ear and traced her rosy cheek tenderly. "I love you, Christine," he whispered, smilingly contently as he closed his eyes.

Author's Note
I appreciate you all for being so faithful to me and my little corner of Phantom fiction. All your reviews still move me very much. I am glad the story has been so well-received and loved by many. Thank you!

The Countdown Now Reads: "4 Chapters Left!"

Disclaimer
The battleships Solferino and Magenta were actual ironclad warships for the French Navy. Solferino was launched in 1861 and Stricken in1882. The Magenta was launched in 1861 and Sunk by internal explosion in 1875. Naturally, I am not affiliated nor do I own any rights to these historic ships.