Erik plowed through the front door of his loft, Christine shrieking in laughter as he swung her over his shoulder, carrying her through the apartment. None who knew him would recognize the caveman she had turned him into- Erik wasn't his usual self when he was with Christine; he felt wild, out of control.

He loved it.

Caught in madness, but still holding his bearings, Erik kicked the door shut behind him and strode towards his bedroom with one intention in mind.

He could hear the pups barking from inside the guest room as they passed the door, but Erik ignored them completely.

No interruptions, no holding back.

Distantly, he reminded himself that it would be, essentially, Christine's first time to make love with a man. A silent promise was made to himself that when he coupled with her, he would be gentle. He would have her enjoy every moment of tonight- their foreplay could be endless, rough, teasing, but the moment of joining…Erik would not hurt her for the world.

He kicked in his bedroom door and kicked it shut behind him again, determined to impress and pleasure her beyond anything she had ever known. This wasn't some sloppy rutting in the backseat of the car, and he certainly wasn't in this just for the sex.

It had been months since he'd had a woman, and weeks since he'd met Christine.

He loved her for what she was to him; he wanted to do it right.

Playfully, he swung the giggling woman off his shoulder to lay her down on his bed. He stood over Christine for a moment, absorbing the sight of her in the scarlet gown, barefoot, her hair tumbled around her face in a golden halo.

Beautiful was an easy, overused word.

This creature on his bed was transcendent.

Giving way to his own primal excitement, Erik moved down to her, spanning his hand flat over her stomach. He could feel the muscles of her tummy tighten and quiver beneath his touch. He took her hands and pinned them to the mattress above her head. She was vulnerable now, submissive but never helpless.

Christine still had the power to stop him whenever she chose.

His mouth and eyes watered at the sight of her; she looked up at him, hungry and unsure. Erik kissed her deeply, slowly, in a desperate attempt to soothe her and calm himself down. As much as he wanted to, Erik could not attack her like a sex-crazed animal- it would terrify her.

Tonight he had to be gentle, he had to be slow.

Calming only slightly, Erik moved his hand up from her stomach, trailing higher to graze lightly over a breast. Her head fell back as he pressed his lips to her throat; she tasted like wild honey, her scent dazed him.

A surge of heavy emotion robbed him of his senses for a moment, though Erik tried to ignore it. Tonight wasn't about him or how he felt anymore.

This is for her, only for Christine…

He cupped her breast and felt it come awake beneath his fingers. His hand did not linger, though Christine's had broken free of his hold and she speared her fingers through his hair, pulling him down to her for another kiss.

She came alive in his arms then, and pulled him fully atop her. Christine's lips nipped and kissed at his throat, while her hands lifted the mask from his face and carelessly tossed it aside. She moved against him clumsily, which was as exciting to Erik as much as it was a reminder that she was gauche.

They were both still fully clothed- Erik loved her gown but it was an impediment to her lithe body. He had seen her naked before, only briefly, he wanted to see her again. Deftly, he found the zip of her dress, and made short work of disrobing her down to a lacy pair of panties.

Erik thrashed out of his own shirt and suit jacket, greatly aided by Christine's hungry, seeking hands. He was sitting up on the edge of the bed and she moved to stand before him. For a moment they paused long enough to get a hold on their passion. Erik took her hands in his and kissed her wrists, trying to calm down long enough to tell her, "If you want me to stop, please tell me now, Christine."

She looked down at him, sitting before her, bare-chested and breathing hard from the painful ache of desire. It was unbelievable to Christine that Erik could want her for anything but sex- when they had met, she had wanted to believe the worst of him, but Erik had proved himself time and again to be nothing short of her champion.

Christine realized that now, without the music of the dance floor, without the wine or any other distraction- now that it was just the two of them, alone in his bedroom, Christine wanted nothing more than to make love to him, with him, make herself his and his alone…

I love you…

Christine leaned down and kissed his scarred cheek. Then, just because she liked to surprise him, she quickly pushed him onto his back and climbed atop him. She bent her head to kiss him deeply, allowing her hair to spill around their faces, a safe curtain of gold. He pushed her hair back, and they both laughed, playful, teasing.

"You little minx," Erik breathed against her neck.

Christine threw her head back and laughed as Erik rolled her onto her back. "Oh, I'm a minx? I hope that's a compliment!"

She heard a zip, and glanced over to find that Erik had slipped off his pants and was now clad only in his boxers. They were both topless now, intent to explore. Christine moved atop him again, straddling his lap, pressing her hands against his chest. She could feel his arousal pressing against her, hard and insistent. She was nervous, but not afraid. Christine smiled down at him when she felt his hands at her thighs.

Erik held back the groan building in his throat as he watched her eyes and felt her hands on his chest. He'd had women atop him before, riding him, but none like Christine. She was exploring his exposed skin, grazing her fingertips over the muscled planes of his shoulders, chest and stomach. The girl, now woman, had never been intimate with a man before. His hands did not remain limp on the sheets, but reached forward to stroke the smooth thighs spread over his lap.

Her hands stilled and her eyes slipped closed as Erik cupped her backside and hips, stroking her, holding her. He moved to sit up and kissed her. Tenderly at first, but their passion was quickly overcoming their senses. Erik touched her cheeks, her hair and neck, her back, her waist.

Christine bit his lip and bumped his nose as she moved to kiss his neck. Erik would have laughed at her but he didn't want to offend. Her passion and willingness more than made up for her obvious lack of experience.

She had no experience- Erik was her first. He knew this, and he endeavored to be everything for her. He would be her lover now in addition to her friend, teacher and savior.

Erik pressed her forward and slipped his fingers into the band of her lace underwear. He liked them, the intricate design, the contrast against her golden skin. Erik liked them, but he did not hesitate in slipping them off her hips and down her legs. His own boxers soon joined hers on the floor beside the bed.

Naked now, they both lay in his bed, flesh to flesh.

His hand stroked up her leg; past the calf, kneecap and inner thigh. Christine gasped and clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders, all from his touch. He touched her again, again, again, until she cried out and shook in his arms.

Erik kissed her, calmed her until he could feel her relax again. Her eyes were dazed, cloudy with desire. For him. No one else. He kissed her neck and stroked her fragrant hair. He could feel her hands on his back, exploring him and readying herself.

It was close, the moment was coming. Erik's room was dark, Christine was grateful that the only light in the room was coming in from the window. She could feel his arousal against her, but she could not see him- she didn't want to see him, her stomach was already tensing with anxiety.

She must have done something, pulled away a little or maybe even pushed him back, but Erik was alert to her tension. He stopped and cupped her face, he was breathing hard and his voice was hoarse, but steady. "Christine? It's not too late. If- if you want me to stop…"

She put her hand to his scarred cheek. "No, I don't want to stop, but Erik I'm just so worried," she confided to him. She felt foolish and defective to still be reserved with this man she loved.

His eyes shined with concern. He pressed his forehead to hers, kissing her throat, the pulse point of her neck. "Don't be worried, Christine. Don't be afraid. I love you, I won't hurt you…"

There was a silence, nearly deafening as she absorbed the words that Erik hadn't meant to dare speak out loud. He didn't move, shocked as he was at the secret he'd let slip. He felt terrified of what she would do, what she might say…

But Christine didn't say anything.

Christine kissed Erik, pulling him in closer to her. There was a bit of confidence that had been hiding within, Erik's words had been what she needed to overcome her last reservation.

He loves me. He loves me!

She kissed him, her smile lighting the room. His girl, his Christine. She spread her legs further, moving them to wrap around his hips. Years of dancing and running track had endowed her with lithe, strong muscles. The delicacy of a ballerina was all an illusion. Christine was strong, stronger than Erik expected. He loved it.

It happened slowly, even though their hearts were pounding, thundering throughout their bodies. Christine's lips formed his silent name. Erik leaned down to her, kissing her pliant mouth. He pressed forward. She moved. Moved again, telling him there was no turning back. In one quick motion, they were joined fully. Christine gasped, cried out; her eyes widened, filled with tears. Erik forced himself to stay still, waiting, watching her face.

There.

Pain. Pleasure.

She smiled.

Complete.

Erik held Christine against him as she slept. He had tried to sleep after it was over, but he'd found it impossible. Sleep? How could he sleep?

He'd made Christine his in the most basic sense.

Physically, mentally, in the soul, she was his. His to provide for, his to protect.

Erik stroked Christine's back as he looked up at the ceiling and out the window of his bedroom. In only a few more hours it would be Sunday. Christine would not be able to spend the entire day with him- she had to go see that friend of hers, that Raoul de Chagny. They were to go to lunch and then meet up with him at the opera later in the day.

Then, Monday would come.

Erik would return to his various occupations and Christine would have to go back to the club. Time was slipping away from them, all the more reason for Erik to put his own plans into action. He would do something- anything!- to get her as far away from that club as he could, he had to get her away from the entire lifestyle it represented.

Intrigues for Erik were few and far between. There had been a few occasions when he had had no other choice but to go outside of the law to accomplish some task, or to best a rival. He's never done anything that would truly endanger anyone; he'd been more mischievous than anything else. More like pulling elaborate pranks than playing puppet master with the lives of others.

This situation was worlds away from anything he'd done in the past, but to end Christine's suffering on the stage, Erik would do what it took. He wanted her in school at Columbia, in the studios of Manhattan Ballet, onstage at the Met, anywhere but in that club, degrading herself night after night...

One of Erik's favorite animals was the scorpion. Not the most attractive of creatures, certainly not one that would inspire artists. Nearly blind, clumsy, but like all things, the scorpion had its own special talents. Luring its prey down to its den, striking without preamble, the scorpion was a deadly, efficient killer.

Christine shifted against him, turning his thoughts away from vigilante scorpions and turning them back toward the beauty of the young woman he loved.

He loved her.

Erik had told Christine he loved her and she hadn't said it back.

He didn't want to spend any time agonizing over it- if she loved him, she might say it later; if she didn't, that could come in time. Truly, the words weren't important to him. Rome wasn't built in a day; Erik didn't expect their future to be built in a night. However, Erik would not hesitate to say that they had a wonderful starting foundation.

They were mentally and physically compatible. Erik felt confident that once Christine was removed from the club, there would be nothing to stand between them.

Was he being arrogant? He didn't know anymore.

She moved against him again, reminding him what he was fighting for.

Christine deserves the world, and by God, I'll give her everything…

Sunlight burned in his eyes as Erik blinked himself into alertness. He opened his eyes fully and turned to the wonderful, warm thing that was stretched out alongside him in the bed.

Christine was there with him, naked, her skin burning against his.

Between her body heat and the warmth of his eiderdown covers, it was almost uncomfortable.

Almost.

Erik stretch a little, his hand stroking Christine as he would a favored pet. His fingertips tingled over the nape of her neck, down her back and waist. He allowed his hand to rest over the curve of her backside. He smiled. She was a perfect fit. Everything about her was perfect.

He brought his lips close to her ear. "Christine, wake up,"

She stretched against him, feeling a sudden soreness in her body she'd only felt once before. The pain brought her alert. Erik watched as she blinked rapidly, until the blue pearls shifted and focused in on him. "Erik,"

He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

He was concerned, and she knew why. Christine turned away slightly, embarrassed, resting her cheek on his chest. "No, I'm fine. You didn't hurt me."

She felt Erik laugh beneath her. "Liar."

"You caught me. It did hurt, but it's all right." She touched his face, tracing his main scar with her fingertips. "It was worth it."

He laughed again, bringing his arms around her waist and rolling her beneath him, "You're blushing,"

She laughed and planted a kiss on the pulse point of his neck. "It's a delicate subject, Erik. I promise you, I feel fine. Better than just fine, actually. I feel like…a whole new woman."

Erik kissed her cheek and idly cupped a breast. It was a possessive, affectionate gesture. Christine lifted her face to his and kissed him. He lowered his head and kissed the breast he'd been stroking. "Not a completely new woman, I hope? The old Christine suited me just fine."

She shivered slightly as Erik's fingertips danced over her belly. Her muscles quivered as his hand moved lower, lower…

His hand stopped and laid flat over her womb. He looked down at her, both sly and adoring. "As much as I want you, I won't take you now. Not until you've had a little time to recover. I don't want to hurt you again."

She put her hand over his, "But Erik-"

"Besides, Christine, if we started up with that again, you'd never make it to your lunch on time." He purred against her neck.

Christine's eyes widened. "Oh, God, Raoul! I forgot all about him,"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't mentioned another man's name when you're in bed with me again, especially when we're both naked," Erik groused as he rolled onto his back, away from her.

Christine playfully swatted his shoulder. "Sorry, boss. What time is it?"

Erik caught her hand and brought it to lie over his heart. It beat strong and steady beneath her hand. "We have just enough time to get dressed and walk the dogs."

She speared her fingers into her hair, "God, I forgot about them too!"

Erik sat up, the covers settling over his lap. He put a hand to her forehead. "Are you feeling all right? Amnesia is highly unusual for someone your age."

She pushed his hand away and batted her eyes. "Maybe when I'm with you, I just forget everything else that's around us."

That she could be playful and even flirtatious after everything they'd shared in the night was truly remarkable to him. She was young, strong, and golden.

This is my woman.

Her hair was rumpled and her face was slightly shiny, the carefully applied makeup from the night before was ruined. He felt the familiar sense of masculine pride that he had successfully seduced and bedded her.

Bedded her well, by the look of things, he mused.

He glanced toward the window. It wasn't snowing anymore, thankfully, but he had no doubt it was still bitterly cold outside. "We should take a shower, Christine."

"Together?"

He looked back at her. "If you like."

She smiled, "You know I would like."

Erik smiled back at her, "Well then, shall we?"

Before Christine could react, Erik had scooped her up with the bedsheet and moved toward his bathroom. "Erik, put me down!" She laughed. Erik complied, setting her on her feet. She wrapped the sheet closely around her and looked at the décor of his bathroom.

She wasn't surprised to see that it was as basic and tidy as the rest of his loft. The sink and counters were black marble with gold veining, as was a massive bathtub and the floor of the shower stall.

Erik tickled her waist as he pulled the sheet from her body and turned the faucet of the shower. Laughing and playful, he backed her into the shower, pressing her to the wall. The heat of the water over her body and the sudden chill of the tiles at her back raised wave after wave of gooseflesh on her skin.

She shivered at his touch, his kiss.

Christine felt him nudge against her, and she broke away to stare at him. She knew what a man looked like naked, of course, but she had rarely seen the real thing. She had never seen Erik- even the night before, she had felt him against her, within her, but she hadn't actually seen-

"Staring is rude, you know,"

Her eyes snapped up to meet Erik's mocking gaze, and he watched in delight as she blushed once more. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…God, you must think I'm such a pervert!"

Erik laughed and brought her closer, to make her feel the effect she had on him. "Not a pervert, there's nothing wrong with you for being…curious. I understand what last night meant to you." He said, pressing his forehead to hers.

He moved against her slightly, but he wasn't pushing her for more love; he only needed to assuage the ache for a moment. Christine parted her legs, allowing him to touch where she was softest, where he wanted to be.

Their breathing was becoming labored, but Erik pulled away. "I meant what I said earlier," he said as he retrieved a washcloth from a tiled shelf. "You're still sore, and I would only hurt you more if I took you now."

Christine laughed through the water as her hair clung to her head and back. She pouted at him and reached for his hands, "If you took me?" She mocked. "My life has become a romance novel- I'm a mistress to a wealthy, brooding man with a dark past who refuses to 'take me' even though we both know that's what you really want." She said pointedly, teasing him.

Erik smiled and raised a hand to his scars. "Romance novel soon to be a police thriller," he muttered. With the shower going, Christine didn't hear his remark. He raised his eyes to hers. "If we keep this up, we'll never leave the shower."

She giggled as Erik pressed the washcloth to her body, bathing her. The scent of his soap, the feel of his hands on her body was incredible. He washed her carefully before turning her and washing himself. Erik reached past her and turned the faucet, ceasing the water flow.

They stepped out of the shower and Erik wrapped a towel over her shoulders, taking one for himself and securing it about his waist. "We need to get dressed, Christine. The dogs need to get out."

She nodded, "Can I show you something before we step out?"

Erik stroked her back, curious. "Of course. It's nothing earth-shattering, is it?"

"No, just something I want to share with you. Come to my room when you're done getting dressed, and I'll show you."

He watched as Christine stepped into the hallway and then into the guestroom. Erik nodded to himself and then moved toward his closet.

Erik stood outside of Christine's room, formerly his guestroom, listening to her coo to the puppies. She had such a nurturing, protective side; it was something rarely seen in her or any of the other women he knew. Christine was too young to know it yet, but she would make a wonderful mother someday.

Erik shook his head and stepped into the doorway. "Well, Christine? You said you wanted to show me something."

She had been cuddling with King on her bed, and set the larger pup on the floor. The dark animal approached Erik, lumbering slightly- still so young, but the pup was already nearly twice the size of Snow, who was playing with a dog chew on the floor.

Erik kneeled down to stroke King behind the ears, and he watched as Christine unzipped a small duffel bag. She retrieved a pair of plain satin ballet slippers. "These were the toe-shoes that I wore on the day I auditioned for Manhattan Ballet. Whenever things were rough at home…rougher than usual, I should say, I would take them out to remind me of how perfect things were when I danced on that stage."

She held the shoes in her hands as if they'd been molded from pure gold.

Erik was quiet as he watched her stare at the shoes, and the memory they held for her.

Christine continued, "After everything fell apart, I just couldn't look at them. It actually hurt to think about that day, because it was the best I'd ever had. I love dancing, Erik, I love dancing the way that you love your music. Do you remember what you first told me about music? You said it moved something inside of you, and that's exactly how I feel when I dance."

Erik knelt down before her and she allowed him to take one of the slippers. He fingered the simple white ribbon and looked up at her, "Your leg…will you ever be able to dance again?"

She nodded and touched his face lightly before she reached forward and brought her arms around him. Her cheek was smooth against his. "Yes. I'm fine for dancing. It doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted you to know that for the first time in a year, I'm actually happy- so happy that I don't even need to think about that day anymore because I have you now, and I'll always have last night."

Erik placed the shoes aside and kissed her. "You'll always have me, Christine."

He rested his hands on her knees and then took her hands, pulling her to stand with him. He touched her hair in a loving way, "I…you're wonderful,"

Christine smiled, and handed him King's leash. "Maybe we're just wonderful together, Erik."

Helpless to resist her, he could only agree.