Author´s note: Thanks for the reviews - you can be sure I enjoyed them. Warning: If reading about people over a certain age sharing physical intimacy (nothing explicit of course - the story still deserves its T rating) makes you uncomfortable, you should better not go on.

Chapter Three

It wasn´t supposed to be like this. I had only meant to console him, hadn´t I? Then why was I enjoying the gentle touch of his lips so much? ´The next time I want to comfort someone I should better hold their hands instead of forcing a kiss on them.´, I thought. I saw the astonishment in his eyes and felt even guiltier than before. He was probably just too polite to push me aside. The least I could do was ending it quickly and apologise for my outburst of emotion.

But it wasn´t that easy. As soon as he felt the slightest movement one of his arms wrapped itself around my waist while his other hand came to a halt on the back of head, pushing it forward rather forcefully. Too forcefully – our jaws collided painfully, and I could taste blood on my lips, not knowing whether it was his or my own. He took advantage of my confusion by invading my mouth with his tongue. For someone who had only done this once he was surprisingly determined.

Surely it was wrong that I pulled him into an even closer embrace. Erik – I still had difficulties in calling him that, even in my mind – had probably never known much love in his life. So it was only natural that he longed for physical contact. But what was my excuse for behaving like a lust-driven young girl, for pressing myself shamelessly against his cold body, trying to warm him? True, since Jaques had passed away there had been a certain emptiness in my life, yet I had thought I could cope with it. ´Antoinette Giry can cope with everything. She´s a strong woman, always in control.´ That was the opinion of others, and for a long time I had believed it myself. Up to now I had had no idea how good it felt to let oneself go… It had to be wrong, but I couldn´t stop.

Apparently he had no intention to stop any soon either. On the contrary, I felt his hand sneak from my waist to the front, over my stomach and eventually arriving at my breasts. At first his touch was so light that I hardly noticed it happened, but then he seemed to grow more confident and started stroking them in a very sensual way. When my need for air became too strong I managed to break the kiss, and we both gasped for breath. That would have been the right moment to end this, but neither of us wanted to. While his fingers played with the buttons of my dress, undoing one after the other, I impatiently removed his cloak. It landed on the candlestick that had fallen down a long, long time ago.

The candles burnt down and, one by one, went out. We didn´t care. When one was with Erik light became as superfluous as speaking. His fingers caressed me softly, like the wings of butterflies, exploring every inch of me. Not once did I have to tell him what to do; he simply kept trying till he had found the right spots. If this was the way he composed, I could guess how wonderful his music had to sound. Soon the pressure that had been building up in my stomach overwhelmed me, and I moaned his name, his real name.

With his body it was much more difficult. At first he refused to be touched at all, pushing my hands away almost roughly. But I didn´t give up. I ran them through the few strands of hair that were left on his head and up and down his cheeks, hoping he´d gradually get used to the feeling. Indeed the tension seemed to vanish after a while, and when I kissed him again it was he who brought my fingers to his shirt.

But the moment I let my hand wander down his body to his trousers he saw the need to stop me verbally. "Please don´t!", he whispered hoarsely. "Why not?", I wanted to know, a little confused. Had I really heard a trace of panic in his voice? "It won´t hurt you, I promise. You´ll like it.", I tried to argue, yet he said flatly: "I don´t deserve this kind of physical affection. You cannot want to share this with someone, something like me.". Ignoring his last sentence I asked: "When you touched me did you think about whether I deserved it?". "Of course not!", he replied. "I just wanted to make you feel good. You´ve always been so kind to me." The honesty and innocence of his answer almost made me burst into tears again, and I wondered if he had even been allowed to touch a woman, intimately or not. "And I want to make you feel good, Erik. A part of you is already enjoying it." I smiled at him in the darkness, not mentioning that this part was currently pressing against my by now exposed thigh. "So why don´t you let the rest of you follow?"

Finally he even helped me take off his trousers, and I was allowed to stroke him. I couldn´t see his face, but the sounds he made, let alone the rather obvious sign I moved my hand over, showed me that he liked what I was doing. He wasn´t caressing me anymore, concentrating entirely on the new sensations I caused, but it didn´t matter. It didn´t even matter that he was finished very quickly. I only smiled again, wiping my hands clean with a handkerchief. This man deserved a bit of happiness more than any other I knew, whatever he may think about it. "Thank you.", he whispered before falling asleep.

Without wasting a single thought about the scene Meg would find when she got home I wrapped my arms around his naked body and drifted off into a light slumber as well. I knew Erik and I would have to talk about all this later, but at the moment I was content with what I had… Some time later – it could have been hours as well as minutes – I woke up because Erik was moaning in his sleep. "Christine… oh, Christine…"