Author's Note: I have read and enjoyed very much "An Eternity of This", another POTO fan fiction on this site. Unfortunately, there is a character named "Armand Deveraux" in that story, and it's possible the name stuck in my subconscious while reading it. However, my character is in no way related to that story. Thus, to avoid any controversy or confusion, I have renamed him "Christian Deveraux" and have updated past chapters to reflect such. Thank you, Reviewer andersm, for bringing this to my attention.
Also, dear readers, I give you warning that this is the beginning of the section that earns this story its 'R' rating for sexuality. Please continue to read at your own risk…
I awoke with a start.
One of those blasted dreams again! This one had affected me more intensely than the others as I was almost in pain with desire.
What time was it anyway?
There was only one timepiece in the entire house that I knew of. The large grandfather clock in the music room.
After that dream, I knew sleep would be impossible for some time. I decided to venture out to at least see what time it was. And I might douse myself off with cold water as well while I was at it. As I arose from my bed, another wave of dizziness hit me. What on earth was wrong with me?
The music room was glowing with the light from the fire. Without the additional candles, I could just barely make out the face of the clock. I believe it said two o'clock in the morning. Heavens, I was never up this late!
"Angelica?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Erik was reclined on the carpet in front of the fireplace, surrounded by pillows, a book and glass of wine beside him. He obviously had not expected me to be up as he was almost as scantily clad as I was, wearing a black silk robe without the usual long nightshirt underneath. I could see his exposed chest, calves and bare feet.. I tried to hide my shock at seeing him so unclothed.
"Erik, I didn't think you would be awake!" I pulled the edges of my kimono closer together over my breasts, turning away from that vision of utter maleness.
"Forgive my state of undress but it was warm here before the fire, and I had assumed that you were fast asleep. Really, Angelica, you should be in bed!" he scolded.
"I couldn't sleep," I shrugged with an uneasy smile.
"You must try lest you become ill again."
Another attack of guilt assailed me. "I am already feeling better."
I was dizzy again. Straining to see in the darkness, I made my way to the organ bench and sat down, trying to look at anything else but the sight of Erik lying before the fire so immodestly.
"You look rather strange. Are you sure you're well?"
"I'm just restless, I suppose."
"You're not fretting about the opera again, are you?"
"No."
"I'm pleased to hear it."
There was an awkward silence, fraught with tension on my part.
"So why are you still up?" I asked in an attempt to make conversation.
"I often suffer with sleeplessness myself," he confessed. "And I have spent so many years living in the cold catacombs of the Opera House that I swear the chill is forever entrenched in my bones. Lounging before the fireplace has become one of my favorite pastimes since I have taken up this new home."
"Well, it does seem quite cozy," I remarked.
A moment of silence.
"While you were at the infirmary, I was quite anxious about you so I acquired a bottle of wine and was having a glass," he said, looking up at me. "Would you like to try some? Perhaps it will help you sleep."
I couldn't help but smile at the wickedness of it. The love of wine is one Parisian trait that I had not acquired since moving to France. At home, I had only had champagne. And even then, that was only at weddings and on holidays.
"Well, nice southern girls aren't supposed to drink, but…yes, I would love some."
Erik chuckled with amusement. Although, as always, I could only see half of his face, the sight of him smiling with laughter was breathtaking.
"You are a little imp at times! I shall retrieve the bottle."
He got up, taking care to keep his own robe safely closed as he did so.
"You should try lying before the fire yourself, Angelica. You look deucedly uncomfortable on that organ bench."
After he left, I contemplated whether I should indeed do so. It would be terribly inappropriate. Yet the warming temptation of his oasis was irresistible. Tentatively, I lay on my side where Erik had been, facing the fire. I could feel the heat from where his body had lain on the carpet through my thin robe. Oh, this was indeed decadent! Glorious, in fact! I felt like the cat that Erik was always comparing me to. A contented cat curled up in front of the fire.
"What a picture," Erik exclaimed as he entered the room with the bottle of wine and an extra glass. "I wish I were a painter so I could permanently capture the image of you lying there like that…like you were an Egyptian princess."
"Egyptian or Japanese?" I giggled, referring to the kimono.
"Whatever amuses you."
Erik offered me the glass of wine. The deep red liquid was tasty enough, but not nearly as exciting as I had imagined.
"Drink it slowly, my dear, as you're not used to it."
Hmmm, the second taste was a bit more pleasant. And the third one even better.
"Well, since you are so comfortable down there, perhaps I should retire to the library," Erik suggested.
"Oh, no! I didn't mean to chase you away from your own fireplace. I'll leave."
"And destroy the lovely picture of my imaginary painting? Don't you dare!"
I pouted. Although I knew that Erik was trying hard to be a gentleman, I so did not want him to leave. This was the most pleasant experience I had had in a long time. I liked sharing it with him.
"I know it isn't proper, but I don't mind if you sit beside me and read," I suggested shyly.
After a moment, Erik nodded. "Very well, my dear…as long as you don't mind."
I didn't mind at all.
My glass of wine had worked its magic right away as I was feeling very relaxed. Lying back on some plush pillows with satin covers, I closed my eyes and listened to the crackle of the fire, the turn of a page, the sound of Erik's breath.
I must have slept a little for the shifting of a log in the fireplace started me into wakefulness.
Turning my head, I saw Erik reclined beside me, fast asleep, his book lying open on his chest. My heart melted at the sight. With his face relaxed in sleep, he almost had the expression of an innocent little boy. I was so unaccustomed to seeing his face without lines of anger and bitterness. I took advantage of this stolen moment to truly study his face…his neck…his shoulders and chest. Although I was no expert in such matters, his body seemed quite attractive.
Shadows played along the exposed skin of his neck in the light of the fire. How I wished I could be that shadow touching the flesh just along the lines of his throat, kissing and licking at him. Just the thought of such a wicked thing made me ache again. Oh, I must be tipsy to have such fanciful thoughts!
I must content myself just to breathe in his masculine scent and to enjoy these secret precious glances of him in sleep. If only…
Although my thoughts were muddled by wine, something occurred to me that I should have realized all along. There was a gift I could give him that Christine could not. Indeed, she would have been petrified with fear to do so. Something he must have been craving for years, almost the entirety of his life, but had always been denied.
I loosened my kimono and let it slip down my shoulders, baring my breasts in the rosy firelight.
I started to move closer to his side but then hesitated. What if he became violent towards me like he did that day I kissed him? What if he turned on me in a murderous rage with me naked and defenseless?
I would take that chance.
But try as I might, I could not entirely forget my own past. Back in Tennessee, before my life in Paris, I had known the pain of a man's flesh invading my own. With every thrust, I had just wished for him to stop. Not only the first time with the loss of my maidenhead, but the second and third time as well. Could I face that discomfort again for Erik?
Yet I seemed prisoner to my own unfamiliar desires for this special man who had come into my life.
I would take that chance as well.
Sighing deeply, I nestled beside him, pressed my bare flesh against the silky sleeve of his robe and kissed that spot by his shoulder where the shadows were.
