I inhale deeply as the light scent of roses drifts over me. Vases of pink, red, and white line the counter that runs beneath the long window by bathtub. I watch as Christine shifts again in the deep water, surrounded by fluffy mounds of bubbles. Her hair is pulled up in loose bunch and held in place by an ornate clip. She's been in the water for thirty minutes now, the steam still slowly trying to escape.

A fantasy fulfilled.

I watch her slowly rise from the tub, allowing the bubbles to slide from her soft skin. The lights in her boudoir cast an erotic shadow on her shape. I study her completely, from her slender neck down to her feet, everything beyond than what I imagined. Every curve I touched through material revealed to me now. I love how her neck tapers down into her supple breasts, now swollen and round from feeding Cecilia. Her belly is smooth and flat, curving delicately on the sides down into her hips. My eyes graze down through the middle of her legs, seeing that tiny wisp of hair, onward to her thighs and calves. Her feet small and moving with a grace only a dedicated ballerina could have.

I curse mentally at myself. That body was mine! I had her! I could have watched this form everyday for all of my life! Why? Why didn't I just take her?! I inhale deeply again, closing my eyes to regain control of myself.

I open my eyes as she slips on her purple robe. The light flutters through the silk, causing me to catch my breath. She sits at her vanity, anything but vain herself. Her hair tumbles down from the clip, bouncing lightly and dancing across her back. I jump slightly as a servant enters to assist her. The small woman stands behind her, blocking my view. I shift to the side and watch her reflection. The servant brushes her hair, listening as Christine speaks lightly about plans for the next day. I do not hear her words, only watching her lips open and shut, widen and shrink, press and roll together.

I leave as she does, finding my way to her room.

I watch for my own satisfaction. I have watched over her since she was a child, every moment painful and wonderful at the same time. I came here to see her again. Despite being shown all the things, I could never have given her.

Now is no different.

I watch as Raoul continues to kiss her neck, hands roaming over her body. Christine's eyes fluttered shut long ago, soft moans and whimpers escaping her lips. She shifts her body as he slips her nightgown up and over her head. There, laying bear naked on his bed, captured beneath his body is the woman I called my own.

I focus on what he does to her, wanting to see how much he cares for her. The way a man makes love to a woman speaks volumes of his affection for her. He moves his kisses from her neck to her breasts, putting pressure on them with his lips and hands. I look up as she moans louder, arms around his shoulders, her one leg over his body.

He treats every part of her with equal care and attention before taking her. They still kiss, breaking only for air. Even then, they separate for seconds at a time. I watch her start to sweat, whimpers now gasping moans as they continue. Her hands play across his back, grasping onto him as if he were a lifeline.

My mind slips and imagines I am in his place. She does these things with me, I now her lifeline. I can taste her kiss, feeling her moan into my mouth. Not his. Her long legs are tightly wound around my body, rubbing against me as we roll into each other. I feel her grasp tighten on me, moans louder as she begins to climax. I begin to go with her, bodies entwined, hearts united.

I open my eyes and watch as they stiffen against each other. His face is in her shoulder, arms holding her so close, their skin almost melts together. Her head is thrown back; eyes squeezed shut, elation plastered across her features. I hear her voice, raised now in moan that sounds beyond satisfied.

Raoul cradles her in his arms, allowing her to fall back gently onto their massive bed. They are still for a while, both catching their breath as their sweat begins to cool. I watch with fiery jealousy as he kisses her forehead.

"I love you," he whispers, looking into the endless depths of her eyes.

"And I love you," she says back softly. I watch as they kiss again, hating him more by the moment. They shift into each other, her head resting just beneath his chin.

I force myself to leave this scene. My blood boils beyond anything I ever knew.