Disclaimer: Like many of my fellow writers here, I have "borrowed" the characters from The Phantom of the Opera from Gaston Leroux and Andrew Lloyd Webber.

A/N: WARNING--SEXUAL CONTENT. In Chapter Fourteen Erik and Christine "let their darker side give in" and began to consummate their relationship. Again, my apologies if I offend anyone; that was never my intention. Please let me know what you think.

NO ONE BUT HER

Chapter Fifteen—The Music of The Night

Slowly she opened his trousers and he cried out softly. Her fingertips touched his manhood, gently traveling its length. "Oh, Angel!" He grabbed her hand and held it still, pressed it against him for a moment.

Suddenly his hands went to the bottom of her chemise and he slid it upward, his fingers caressing her silky skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in his wake. Christine bit her lip and looked down at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Raising her arms above her head, she let him remove the garment, her head falling back as his thumbs moved slowly back and forth over her tightly beaded nipples. "Oh, Erik, that feels—"

He sat up and took one nipple in his mouth, tenderly tugging on it with his teeth and lips. The taste of her exploded on his tongue and he moaned. Trailing hot, wet kisses to her other breast, he continued his adoration of her body.

Christine moved until she sat astride him, his manhood cradled by her femininity. His hips bucked and they both cried out, gasping for breath.

Almost frantic now, he reached for the drawstring on her pantalets as she was trying to shove his trousers out of the way. "Lift up," they both said at the same time, then laughed softly when they realized what they'd said.

Erik levered himself up on his elbows, lifting his hips and legs so she could pull his trousers off. When he was finally naked, Christine could do nothing but stare, her mouth open. Chuckling, he tipped it closed with a finger. "Your turn, love."

Rising to her knees, she shimmied out of her pantalets, easing them down one leg and then the other. With an impish smile she tossed them to the floor, then peeled her stockings off in much the same way. As the last stocking floated to the floor, she lay down on top of him, breast to chest, thigh to thigh.

He caressed her back, rubbing his hands slowly up and down, taking special delight in the curve of her hips and bottom. Sighing, he kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "Oh, Angel, how many times did I dream of this happening. And then resigned myself to it never happening."

"It hasn't exactly happened, yet." Sliding off him to lie on one side, she rested her arm on his chest and moved one leg between his. Making a small sound of extreme satisfaction, she burrowed under his arm and laid her head on his chest. Idly she rubbed her hand back and forth over the patch of hair in the middle. "In these last few weeks, I've dreamed of it, too."

"Christine, you are my heart." His quiet declaration made her breath catch and she stretched up to kiss him. In an instant she was lying on her back and Erik painstakingly kissed his way from her collarbone to her navel, pausing along the way to pay due homage to her breasts.

His hand found its way to the juncture of her thighs, rubbing gently in circles until her hips began to thrust against his fingers. Feeling the wetness, his heart gave a hard thump and his mouth went dry.

Panting, she said, "Turnabout is fair play," and took his manhood in her hand, stroking up and down until he, too, was panting. Now!" she begged him. "Please, Erik, take me now!"

Needing no other encouragement, he parted her legs and entered her in one smooth stroke. "Christine, mon coeur, ma vie, je t'aime!" he cried. After a moment, he began to plunge into her and withdraw and she matched him stroke for stroke.

Within minutes the exhilaration had built to a peak and he gasped, "I can't—hold on—much—longer, my love."

She grasped his face and pulled him down for a long kiss then smiled up at him. "Then don't try to."

A few more thrusts then he stiffened and poured himself into her with a loud cry. "Oh, God!" Collapsing on her, still inside her, he tried to catch his breath.

Christine held him tight, tears leaking from her eyes to fall into her hair. Please, God, let him have given me his child!

Erik rose up far enough to look into her eyes. Seeing the tears he asked her, a note of panic in his voice, "Angel, are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

Tangling her fingers in his dark hair she pulled him back to her for a soft, sweet kiss. "No, love, these are happy tears. Are you all right?"

"Oh, my sweet, I've never felt so . . . I have no words to describe it." Carefully he rose from the bed and went into an adjoining room. She heard water running and he reappeared with a wet cloth. "Here, love, let's clean you up." When she had finished and handed the cloth back to him, he tipped her chin up. "Regrets, Angel?"

"Absolutely none whatsoever," she told him firmly.

"And . . . if there is a child?" He laid the cloth aside and stretched out beside her, tucking her against his side and pulling the bedcovers up over them.

Her heart skipped a beat and she hoped her face didn't give away her fondest wish. "Would that . . . upset you?"

For a long moment he was silent. Then pensively he answered, "I honestly don't know. The thought that I might pass down the scars, especially to a daughter—I would never forgive myself."

Gently she touched his scarred cheek. "Marie showed me the pictures of your parents that the solicitor sent you." Feeling him tense angrily, she added, "I know—I know! To give you away like that . . . it was horrible and they didn't deserve you! But neither of them had anything like your scars. It had to have been something that happened while your mother was carrying you."

"I suppose Marie told you everything."

Christine hid a smile at the disgust in his voice. "She told me about your parents, and the title, but actually it was Raoul who told me about how she helped you escape from the carnival."

Erik smiled softly. "She literally saved my life. She has been like an older sister, or an aunt, ever since. When I first bought this house and moved here, I think she kept me sane." Sighing, he pulled Christine closer and idly toyed with the ends of her hair. "Those were . . . dark, difficult days. Finally she decided that she'd had enough of my drunkenness and self-pity and grabbed my ear. I thought she was going to twist it off! Then she told me either to grow up and act like a man, or give up and shoot myself."

Christine couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that escaped as she pictured the scene, as Marie was barely half Erik's size. "Yes, that was her favorite way of getting our attention in the ballet school, too."

"Anyway, when she came the next time, I'd begun to design the bathing room." At Christine's confused look, he smiled. "Come, love, let me show you." He picked his trousers up from the floor and slid them on, then pulled the top sheet loose from the bed for her to wrap around herself.

The adjacent room was half the size of his bedroom, and was unlike anything she'd seen before. Along one wall there was a counter and a sink, complete with two faucets. She watched in amazement as he turned one handle and water gushed out.

Along the opposite wall stood a huge bathtub, easily three times the size of any other she'd seen. It also had a spigot and two handles at one end. She turned the one on the left and hot water spilled out. "How did you do this? And please use simple terms."

Laughing, he came up behind her and enfolded her in his arms. There's a spring not far from the stable, and I built a pump and laid a system of pipes from there to the house. In a small room off the kitchen I put a tank where I heat water for bathing and washing dishes, clothes, whatever might require hot water."

She looked up at him over her shoulder. "Marie was right. She told Raoul you were a genius." Looking at the huge tub again and then at him, she smiled impishly. "I feel the need of a bath, milord."

"As my lady wishes. I'll go build up the fire beneath the water tank." Stepping back from her, he made a brief bow and left. While she waited for him to return, she trailed her hand over the smooth granite countertop and marveled at the detail of the mosaic design of the tiles laid on the wall around the tub, from the floor to just below the windows set high in the wall. Several different scenes from Verdi's Aïda were depicted.

Erik returned and went to the tub. He turned both faucets and tested the temperature of the water with his hands. "Perfect," he murmured. From a tall cabinet standing near the tub he pulled out several large, fluffy sky blue towels and a cake of spicily scented soap. He gauged the depth of the water to be sufficient and turned off the taps. "Your bath awaits, milady."

Before she could reply he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the tub. Still wrapped in the bedsheet, she squealed when he swung her over the water and acted as though he were going to drop her in, sheet and all. "Erik, don't!"

Smiling broadly, he cradled her against his chest. "No? But I thought my lady wanted a bath." He let her slide down his body; when her feet touched the floor he tipped her chin up and stared deeply into her dark eyes. "Oh, doux ange, I love you more than I ever dreamed possible." Bending his head he took a deep kiss from her, as well as the sheet. Never breaking the kiss he picked her up and placed her gently in the water on her bottom. The top of the water lapped just at her breasts and he felt himself harden.

Quickly he shed his trousers and joined her. She came immediately into his arms, kissing his chin, his neck, whatever she could reach of him. Fumbling for the soap, he began to wash her back. She arched against him and made a purring noise.

Chuckling softly, he moved up to wash her shoulders and her neck. "You sound just like Maddie, when I rub her ears," he murmured, sucking in a deep breath when Christine bent toward him and nipped his earlobe with her teeth. "Sit up, love," he ordered in a raspy voice and when she complied he brought the soap down over her breasts, moving in ever-widening circles.

Christine let her head fall back in ecstasy, closing her eyes as he painstakingly lathered and rinsed her, taking an agonizingly long time. She reached between them and grasped his manhood, stroking it as she had earlier.

Erik let the soap fall into the water, his own head falling back as he felt the peak building. Grasping her under her arms, he lifted her halfway out of the water. "Are you ready, Angel?" Eagerly she nodded and he continued, "We'll try a different way this time."

He positioned her above him then slowly eased her down on his throbbing erection. They both cried out as their bodies became one, and when she was fully seated, she put her hands on his shoulders to brace herself. He thrust upward and she inhaled sharply. "Oh, my God! Erik, how-can-it-feel-better-than-before?"

She let him set the pace, as before, but this time he brought her almost to the peak twice and stopped. When she looked down at him with glazed eyes, he began to move again, slowly at first then with ever-increasing speed. "OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod!" she cried, screaming out his name when her climax hit her full force.

Seconds later he joined her, crying "Mon rêve!" as he spilled himself in her. They lay limply in the tepid, soapy water. After a few minutes, he stirred. "Christine, mon âme?"

"What?" she answered in a dreamy, sleepy voice.

"We really do need to get out of the water."

"Mmmmm," was her only response and she made no attempt to move from her position on his chest.

He smiled at her tenderly. "Brave little angel—this has been one hell of a day, hasn't it?" Carefully he got to his knees, holding her against his chest and stood slowly.

She made no sound when he laid her on the bed and gently dried her as best he could. Using the towel on himself quickly, he lay down beside her and curled an arm protectively around her waist. As an afterthought he pulled the bedcovers up over them and promptly fell asleep.

A/N: By no stretch of the imagination am I an engineer, so if something is wrong about the spring and pump and pipes, etc., please forgive me. (No one that I would allow to read this has any more knowledge of the subject than me!)