A/N: As I promised, here is some smut for you all. It's not entirely without plot development, but pretty darn close. I hope you all enjoy it, and let me know what you think. As always, your reviews are an inspiration. I am so thankful to have such wonderful, loyal readers! Happy reading to you all.

Gia and Erik fell into an easy routine over the next couple of days. In the mornings they would rise together and help each other dress, Erik giving Gia plenty of privacy as he imagined she would not want anyone to be watching her. They would part, he to the balconies, and she to rehearsal. He watched, and she danced. When the rehearsals ended for the day, he waited for her in her room. Each night she arrived to find he had provided supper for both of them. One night he even tempted her with a chocolate éclair.

"Erik, I cannot possibly eat that. It will make me fatter, and then I shall get a lecture for it," she said, pushing the decadent pastry away. She wanted it though. She always craved sweets during this part of her cycle.

"I insist, my dear. You know you want it. You should not deprive yourself. Besides you spend all day dancing, one little éclair isn't going to hurt," he argued, as he picked up the pastry and brought it up to her mouth.

She shook her head no, but when Erik lay his other bare hand on her cheek, her mouth dropped open, and he forced her to take a bite. The moan of pleasure she made at the first taste was strikingly familiar. Her tongue snaked out to lick away the chocolate icing on her lips, and he found himself growing hard. He cursed his anatomy under his breath. Would that damn thing never learn to behave? Under different circumstances he would have given Gia his fingers to suck on, as they held remnants of the icing on them, but that would not ease his burgeoning arousal. Instead, he made quick work of them himself, only to find when he finished, Gia brandishing the éclair and urging him to take a bite.

"If I have to eat this, you do too!" she said playfully and he succumbed to her easily, taking a large bite of the confection. It was wonderful. When was the last time he allowed himself to indulge in something like this? And so they fed each other until there was nothing left, and soon after that it was time for bed.

Erik enjoyed having her close to him, but when he would attempt to get her to lie with him in spoon fashion, she would edge away from him. "Not now, Erik," is all she would say about it. He thought she was being overly fastidious, but he did not press the matter. He did not want to make her uncomfortable, and goodness knew she was uncomfortable enough on her own. He had noticed her wincing and rubbing her stomach a few times as if she was in serious pain.

For now they had taken to sleeping face to face, the only parts of them touching their lower legs and feet. As they slid into bed on Saturday evening, Gia informed him that Madame Giry would be holding afternoon rehearsals for the corps de ballet on Sunday to make up for the loss of practice on Thursday. Erik had missed the announcement because he had not returned to the opera house yet from making his lunchtime errands.

"That is most unusual. I cannot recall her ever holding a Sunday rehearsal before. It simply isn't done," he said thinking out loud.

"It's not just that, my love. I can understand her wanting to make up the rehearsal time, the corps does need work, but something is wrong with Madame Giry. She has not been herself since Adrienne Leveau died. You should have seen her at the funeral. She was so pale and drawn, I thought she was going to pass out at any moment."

"It could just be the stress, you know. She has never had pressure like this before," he countered softly.

"But Erik, she has been a ballet mistress for years. Performing has made up the greater part of her life. It is something else. I think you should talk with her," Gia said thoughtfully as she ran a hand through his hair.

"Antoinette has not confided in me in quite some time, Gia. She might rather speak to you."

"You are her oldest friend here, and you are both of an age. I have known the woman little more than a month!"

He sighed and kissed her softly on the lips. "If you insist, my darling. You know, you really should have become a lawyer or a politician the way you argue," he teased. At that, Gia gave him a hard shove on his shoulder which knocked him out of the small bed they had been sharing. He landed squarely on his ass and Gia laughed at his ridiculousness. He then clambered back into the bed and proceeded to tickle her until she squealed for him to stop.

He kissed her again, this time hard, not wanting to be gentle, and she responded in turn, her tongue seeking out his. Her hands drifted down from clutching his shirt at the shoulders to cupping his rear, but Erik's primal moan brought them back to earth.

"I'm sorry, I should not be teasing you like this," she apologized, her eyes looking quite guilty.

He instantly forgave her. "How much longer?" he asked, hoping he didn't offend her or sound overly eager.

"Tomorrow," she yawned sleepily, as she closed her eyes.

Erik did not fall asleep right away. Tomorrow they would go down to his home, and he wanted everything to be perfect for her. He mentally composed a list of chores that had to be done, only once that was completed, did he let sleep overtake him.

A sweat soaked and somewhat exhausted Gia entered her room early Sunday evening to find Erik waiting for her rather expectantly. He practically shot out of the chair to greet her. It was only when he got close that he could see and smell the perspiration, the tiny rivulets pooling into different parts of her practice uniform. A night of passion just might be the last thing on her mind. He would be disappointed, but there was always tomorrow he reminded himself.

"Gia, if you are too tired, we can simply stay here. I do not want to rush you into anything," he said most solicitously, but he was unable to disguise his hopefulness that she would want to accompany him this evening.

Sometimes Erik could be as transparent as a child, and that made Gia smile for the first time all day. Madame Giry had been merciless this afternoon, and no one had escaped her scorn. Even Meg and Gia were castigated for one minor error after another. At one point she had even threatened to keep them up all night if they could not execute the movements properly. During one short break Meg told Gia that being at home with her mother was fast becoming unbearable. She even asked if it would possible for her to use Gia's room at night if she and Erik were not using it. Gia had promised she would mention it to Erik, and relief had washed over young ballerina. But that could wait until later.

Gia continued to smile at Erik, not allowing the unpleasant thought mar her sunny expression. "Erik, of course I want to come with you tonight! I've been looking forward to this. I just want to get out of this thing and clean myself up a bit," she said as she made her way behind her privacy screen. She quickly sponged off with the room temperature water, and put on the red nightdress and wrapper that Erik had given to her. Since her skin was slightly damp, it clung to her, and when she stepped around the screen, Erik's eyes immediately darkened.

Her hair was still up, and Erik walked over to her and pulled the pins out, watching the curling locks tumble down past her shoulders. "When do I have to let you go?" he breathed into her ear, communicating his desire to hold on to her as long as possible.

"Practice as usual tomorrow," she sighed. Gia had been hoping Madame Giry would grant the corps something of a reprieve, but she had not. Erik looked quite put out, and grabbed her practice dress, draping it over one arm so she would have it to change into tomorrow. He then held out his hand, and Gia took it without a moment's hesitation.

They had little to say to each other on the trip, both of them thinking about what was going to happen once they reached the lair. Gia could practically feel his hands on her bare skin, and it was making her breasts feel tight with the anticipation. For his part, Erik was simply anxious about what Gia would say when they arrived.

As the boat drew near, at first it looked to be the same place it had always been. But once the reached the bank, it was obvious Erik had been busy preparing for her arrival. All of the candles were lit, giving the entire chamber a warm glow. He had done a bit of tidying up. No longer were there sheets of music and books everywhere, but they were placed into neat piles. His desk was clear except for a quill pen and pot of ink. He had even set up a small table with two chairs on which sat a vase with a single red rose, and dinner for the two of them. Gia's eyes widened when she took in the largest change of all: all of the drawings of Christine were gone. The walls looked strangely bare without them.

"Erik, you did not have to put those away for me. I know you treasure your memories of her."

He looked at Gia, and he took of his mask so she could see his entire face when he spoke to her. "I do not need them anymore."

There was so much warmth, sincerity, and relief in his voice. It was as if Erik was emerging from an emotional prison where he had been his own jailor. It thrilled Gia to her fingertips that Erik had placed Christine so squarely into the past, and they had barely gotten out of the boat when she threw her arms around his neck, and wantonly whispered into his ear, "Make love to me, Erik. Now," as she ground against him.

"Don't you want to have something to eat? You must be starving," he said, trying to keep his voice even, ignoring the sensations she was creating with every move of her body.

"I'm not hungry for food," she purred, her voice filled with promise. Erik needed no more encouragement, he scooped her up and carried her to their bedroom, setting her down on the bed. Gia began to untie the wrap but he stopped her. "I want to do it," his voice deepening with want.

Erik made short work of his clothing, tossing it aside and not caring if it got dirty or wrinkled. He had not had the pleasure of her body for nearly a week, and it seemed she was as hot for him as he was for her. Gia was reclining on the duvet, the red of her nightgown and wrap matched it nearly exactly. She was watching him strip, her eyes burning hotly into his chest and then traveling down his body to his cock. There was no false modesty here. He found himself amazed that a woman could be as hot to fuck as a man. He'd assumed that women somehow were above such rampant urges. He knew they felt desire, but she was nearly licking her lips in anticipation of him.

Once he was nude he joined her on the bed, and she immediately melted into his embrace. He pawed at her breasts, crushing them, not being the least bit gentle, and she shuddered with unfeigned pleasure. Laying her back, he pushed her arms over her head and slid the wrapper and nightgown off. He was pleased she wore nothing underneath them.

The moment his bare hands made contact with her skin she arched beneath him and moaned, "Oh yes Erik, touch me. Please! I've been dreaming of you touching me for days."

His lips twitched into a grin as he brought his hands up to roll the engorged tips of her breasts between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth was on her neck, biting at her pulse point, and sucked hard just as he had done that night in the practice room. She screamed his name raked his back with her nails.

He took her mouth in a deep kiss, sucking her tongue deep into his mouth. He slid a hand between them and found her impossibly wet for him. He gave her one finger for added pressure and stimulation and she quickly came with a soft cry.

Erik was surprised she reached orgasm so quickly, and he rolled off of her, reaching for the tin that contained the French letters. He knew there was little risk of pregnancy, but now was not the time to become sloppy.

"You were certainly eager for that, my dear."

"Oh God, yes!" her voice still dripping with lust. "One night I even thought about touching myself I wanted you so much. It was just after Adrienne died," she clarified. "You must find me terribly wicked to talk of doing such a thing."

He sat back, the condom still in his hand, and looked at her seriously. "Gia, I don't think it's wicked at all. Men do it all the time."

"But it is forbidden! A terrible sin!" she cried, honestly shocked that people could do such a thing.

"It is not a sin. What do you think I did before you? I am a man, Gia. You cannot actually believe I did not ever give myself release when I needed it? I truly would have gone insane if I didn't," he said with a laugh.

Gia seriously considered his words. It did make sense, she supposed. She opened her arms, willing him to come back to her, but he sat unmoved, just looking at her for a moment. Then he spoke, saying something that sent tiny shockwaves throughout her body. "Touch yourself. Touch yourself for me, Gia."

For a moment she supposed he could not possibly be in earnest, but when he made no move to touch her, she found her voice. "I, I don't know what to do! Why would you ever want to watch such a thing?" her voice rising in pitch steadily.

"Pretend your hands are my hands, Gia. You know where you like to be touched. Show me, and I will show you."

With great trepidation, she lay back, her hands suddenly feeling cold. She kept her eyes locked on his, and using her left hand she feathered the tip of her nipple. But she needed more stimulation, so she pinched it firmly, and a small moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Erik watched as her eyes snapped shut, and her right hand joined in, disappearing between her legs. It was perhaps the most arousing sight he had ever beheld. She was writhing now, panting out his name as her hips bucked, bringing her ever closer to the edge. He found he could not stand just to watch her, and he let out a low groan, taking himself into his hand, stroking himself in time with her.

The sound of Erik's groan caused Gia to open her eyes, and she saw him, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping, his hips jerking forward with each stroke. He looked so, so beautiful was the only word she could think of at that moment. He was so intently staring at her, watching every move she made, and the knowledge he could not watch her without touching himself was intensely powerful. The chords along his neck were visible and he was gritting his teeth, breathing heavily. He had to be close.

"Inside me, Erik. I want you to come inside me," she entreated him, her eyes not leaving his, even as she continued to touch herself. He had waited for this moment for days, and he fell forward, grabbing her hands, pinning them over her head. It only took a moment for him to find her entrance, and he plunged in, her hips rising to meet his. "You are so wet and tight, I cannot get enough of you!" he exclaimed, as he released her arms so she could touch him again.

He was pounding into her, and all he could think of was that if Satan presented himself and offered him one thing in exchange for his soul, Erik would have gladly given it up if it would mean he could make love to Gia for eternity. When she was not making sweet noises of desire, her mouth was caressing the right side of face, kissing it. Her hands were seemingly everywhere at once, but they were not gentle. She was making him almost frantic, and when he heard her actually moan into his ear, "Fuck me harder, Erik! I want it all, give me everything you have!" he nearly came.

All pretense of making love to each other gone, he did as she asked, and was greeted with a high keen of pleasure as she orgasmed, reaching a plateau that she had never imagined was possible. He was not far behind her, and he clung to her as the final spasms overtook him. It was only when he withdrew from her that he realized he had neglected to use the French letter. He thought he cursed himself silently, but she must have heard, because he heard her murmur she did not care.

Instead of feeling drained from the experience, Erik felt energized, and he got up from the bed promising to return quickly. He was true to his word, and he returned bearing a plateful of food for them to enjoy.

"Erik, we are going to get crumbs in your bed!" she chided him. He pressed a strawberry to her lips and she took a bite, the juice staining her lips. They ate the bread, cheese, and fruit and he marveled at how relaxed they had become around each other. Naked as the day they had been born, they simply talked, Gia telling him of Madame Giry's continued odd behavior. If even Meg could not stand to be around her mother, there must be something wrong. Now was not the time for his old friend to come apart at the seams.

Was it possible she was suspicious that he had killed Adrienne and that was eating her from the inside? He would have to find a way to talk to her tomorrow. He also wanted to speak to her about giving Gia at least part of a day off if it was possible. She had been working so hard the past two weeks, he could see subtle changes to her body. Her arms and stomach were firmer, but she still possessed the curves that mesmerized him. When she had wrapped her legs around him, they were more powerful than he remembered.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

"I was just thinking about how you have changed since rehearsals began. You are more desirable than ever. In fact," he said, laying the tray aside, "I think I am ready to have you again." He brushed his fingers along her waist lightly, and Gia reacted by placing her hands against his chest, resting on either side of his heart before she leaned in to kiss him gently on the mouth.

This coupling had all the gentleness the previous one had lacked. In the afterglow, he pledged himself to her, saying she had become his muse, his reason for being. Gia kissed the center of his forehead and told him he was equally important to her.

It only seemed natural for him to say to her, "Will you marry me? I do not have a ring to give you, but say you will be mine forever."

Tears of joy in her eyes, she said the words he never thought to hear, "Erik, I would be honored to be your wife. I do not care about anything else."

"You would live with me here?" She nodded in the affirmative. He gave her a wide smile, throwing his head back, ecstatic in a way she had never seen before. He was positively giddy. "I shall make all the arrangements then."

His mood was infectious and she could not suppress her joy at the thought of being married to him. "When?" she asked hopefully.

"As soon as I can make things perfect for us. I must settle a few things, but I promise you, we shall be married soon." She accepted all of this with a smile, and he could tell she was already picturing herself in a wedding gown standing before an altar reciting the ancient vows. He would give her that. But first he had to settle things between him, Christine, and a certain viscomte. In the morning, he would write them both.