She wanted to stop playing, to simply be still and listen to him. But when she met his eyes, he quietly repeated his command.
Without warning, he laid down the violin and came to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.
Leaning over her, he let his face rest against her hair as his hands eased down between the bodice of her gown and her warm skin.
She faltered, missing a note.
"You'll have to start over, my dear," he said, his lips grazing her neck as he gently kneaded her flesh.
"Erik, I can't," she protested. His touch was too exquisite, there was no way she could concentrate on the music as he caressed her.
"Start over!"
She forced herself to comply as he removed one hand from her breasts and pushed her skirts up around her hips.
She made another mistake, but he did not seem to notice as his fingers parted her, seeking her most sensitive part.
She pressed back against his strong and unyielding body, her hands stilled against the keys. She could hardly remember her own name, let alone continue playing as he caressed her.
She writhed against his stroking hands, needing more and more of this sweet torture. And she struggled to unfasten her gown, given his one hand easier access to her breasts, her unbound hair and the fabric of his white shirt soft against her bare back.
"I want you now, Helene, now!"
"Do what you want with me, Erik."
With a low, almost savage growl, he caught her by her waist and pulled her from the piano bench and turned her to him.
Her skin was already flushed, her lips parted and her eyes half closed. Her dark blonde hair fell over her breasts, her dress gaping and falling around her middle.
For a second, he tried to calm himself and took her face between his hands.
I don't want to hurt her.
But when he had kissed her, when he had tasted her again, all of his composure was gone.
I need her…
He could not wait to bring her back to the bedroom. He pushed her back against the wall, heard a faded velvet hanging tear as it was caught between her sweet body and the stone.
She wrapped her arms around him and nodded once.
Grasping her hips, he showed her no mercy thrust into the moist, tight heat of her. It was not until he felt her legs buckling, felt her on the verge of collapsing in his arms that he finally gave in to his own release.
Later, as he carried her still-quaking body up to the bedchamber, he heard her whisper his name.
"Erik, don't ever let me go."