I know this is a short chapter, but compared to my usual one-shots it's downright LONG! Please R/R. Happy reading.

Christine

Raoul took me home straight away. He did not speak to me, and I was grateful for that. I could not face his questions tonight. I knew that I had behaved like a wanton. I had asked another man to dance. I had stood in the circle of his arms; I had let him pull me close, I had allowed him to kiss me.

Why had I asked Erik to dance? Oh yes, I had known immediately that it was he. No one else could move with such quiet grace or power. Music seemed to surround him, even when he was silent. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I could not resist the temptation that was implicit in his eyes every time he looked at me. And so I had offered my hand to him.

Foolish foolish Christine!

Tomorrow night, his voice had promised. I had invited him to touch me. Could I now complain that he exercised that invitation? That he took me in his arms and awakened feelings in me that made me blush in memory? That his lips on mine had swamped my senses and made me weak?

I was frightened and excited at once. I did not know…I had never thought…but no, that was not true. Erik was in essence a sensual creature and even my innocence could not completely shield me from that. There were times when we sang together that I imagined his voice caressing me… his lips… his hands. I often awoke from fevered dreams of him, my body feeling swollen and bereft. Even now, as I stripped off my costume I imagined him standing on the other side of the mirror, watching. I slowed my movements, stripping off one garment at a time, imagining his arms around me and his mouth slanting over mine over and over again until at last I stood naked and trembling.

I faced the mirror and lifted my chin, half hoping that he could see me and half shocked at my behavior.

I traced my fingers over my body, imagining they were his.

"Erik." I murmured in a voice I barely recognized.

I could hear his whispering voice in my head, commanding and promising me knowledge and pleasure.

"Close your eyes and go to the bed." Said the voice in my head. I obeyed wordlessly.

"Touch yourself, Christine. Imagine I am there." The voice was low and breathless. And I succumbed to the memory of his kiss and my own questing fingers. My hands went to my breasts and I drew circles over my nipples, imagining his hot mouth suckling me. A strange languor was filling my body. My skin felt taut with anticipation.

"Now, move your hands lower." I snaked one hands to the curls between my legs. "Imagine my mouth there, sucking on you there." He said. His voice was magic. My fingers moved of their own volition, slick with the wet from my own body. My breath was coming in ragged gasps now.

"Put your fingers inside yourself Christine."

I shamelessly plunged my fingers into the cleft between my legs, rising to meet each thrust. I imagined him over me, inside of me. My hips bucked wildly. One last plunge of my fingers sent me over the edge and I sobbed out his name as a wave of ecstasy broke over me.

"That's my girl." His deep voice caressed me as I turned over, exhausted. His voice sang me to sleep.

It was not until the next morning that I realized that the ring Raoul had given me was gone.