A/N: Wow,two hundred reviews! Thank you guys sooooo much for reviewing! It means so much so see your nice comments and all the great things you have to say, it makes my day to see my inbox filled with good reviews. I admit I was nervous to put this story up here because I didn't know if anyone would like it. I didn't even think anyone would find it! But thank you once again, luv ya all!

I know this chapter is short, but I'll compensate by updating two chapters at once. Two! What a deal! haha j/k… I just didn't want to combine the two chapters and "ruin the mood". :)

LoverofBalto: Now that I look back at it, I see how it doesn't make much sense the way I wrote it. I had it in my mind perfectly though... I went back and fixed it to explain it better.

Emily: She's not necessarily frightened of Erik, just of the unknown and the unfamiliar situation.

Amanda-Lynn: Yes, in the movie Christine's eyes are brown. Even though this story is mostly based on the movie, I'm using some book stuff, and in the book Christine's eyes are blue. Just felt like using that little detail. :)

Clayphan16: Do you really think I'd have Erik rape Christine? Tsk tsk. :)

Chapter 13

Erik's lower body pinned her legs and he lay braced on his elbows on her right side, a startled and perplexed expression on his face, as if utterly surprised to find himself sprawled on the floor.

He blinked up at Christine for a moment as she grasped a corner of the vanity table and struggled to pull herself up. The movement made Erik shift to the side and off of her, extracting himself from the tangle of gown and limbs, and he rose to his feet gracefully as she attempted to shake out her skirts and cover her exposed legs, feeling silly as she fought with the wadded material.

She was about to heave herself to her feet when she realized that Erik was staring at her, his eyes focused on the length of her bare leg. She covered it quickly, as if the heat of his gaze would singe the exposed flesh.

"Are you hurt?" he said calmly, as he had hadn't just been collapsed in an unruly heap on the floor.

"No – I'm fine…" She started to stand again and he held out his hand to her. Odd, she thought, that such a simple unfurling of the fingers could be so strangely elegant. Shaking the thought from her mind, she placed her hand in his, but before she could shift her body to stand he pulled her straight to her feet and up against him, drawing her hand to the back of his neck and abandoning it there, settling both his own possessively on her waist.

She stared up at him, her wide startled eyes mere inches from his turbulently piercing ones.

"Now are you frightened of me, Christine?" he said softly, his lips barely moving.

"No…"

He gave a short quiet laugh, barely a breath of mocking air. "You're trembling, my dear."

She was – but what else could she do, with the entire length of her body pressed against his? Adrenaline pumped through her, setting all her nerves on edge and sharpening her senses. The texture of his jacket beneath her fingers, the strong hands on her waist, the silky cravat brushing her neck, those blue-green eyes she was drowning in…

When his lips touched hers it was barely a kiss, the mere brushing of mouths like butterfly wings. He hesitated for a moment, as if unsure of her reaction to his touch. But when she pressed her lips more fully to his, it was the only confirmation he needed. His tongue flicked out cautiously, dancing across her bottom lip for a tantalizing moment before claiming her in a proper kiss, reveling in the new sensations as she sank into his embrace, drunk with the sweet and intoxicating taste of longing on his lips.

She was swept up by the slow, exploratory rhythm of his kiss, returning his desire with a fervor that chased away the last shreds of reticence hanging between them – the heat of his skin, the firm insistency of his hands on her waist, the yearning that curled over her like a warm fog radiating from him…

His sensuality pulled at her like a living thing, and the manners and the ladylike reserve that had been drilled into her for her entire life broke down under the heady rush of pent-up passion. And that passion had only one outlet…

She shivered under his touch as his hands skimmed up her waist, and their lips parted slightly as she drew in a shuddering breath, his fingers slowly and uncertainly unhooking the first clasp at the top of her gown… then the second, and the third, and the fourth… a sudden panicky anxiety splintered through the delightfully passionate haze, and she froze, quickly sucking in an audible little hesitant breath.

Erik paused, his lips less than an inch from hers. He didn't ask the question that hovered between them. It would've been redundant – the thought was almost tangible. After a moment he drew in breath as if to speak, but instead of tentative questions, a soft tune slipped from his mouth, gentle words in a melody and language she didn't recognize, but his voice was all too familiar to her.

His flowing tenor wrapped itself around her, igniting the heated desire of only moments before and dissolving the uncertainties that even she didn't want. Her eyes drifted shut in rapture at his song, the strange yet beautiful words caressing and convincing her soul.

He was still singing into her lips as he deftly swept her up in his arms, his voice calming the last of her inhibitions and curling around her like warm liquid starlight. The bed was soft and yielding at her back, his body firm, dominating and utterly masculine above her... she tightened her arms around his neck in a final surety, surrendering to the longing and soul-deep desire for all that was Erik…