Man is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he can hand over that great gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is born.
Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821-1881)
The concept or idea of a gift has had many meanings to different people. For some, a gift is something we give to celebrate a holiday. Whether it is Christmas, Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day, or birthdays, there always seems to be a "reason for the season."
Other gifts can take on a more personal or deeper meaning. Sometimes it is the gift of education bestowed upon one individual by a benefactor. Other times, there can even be the gift of life in the wake of tragedy . . . the donation by family members of one person's heart and so forth to save the lives of many others.
Erik knew that Marie-Christine was about to give him the greatest gift a woman could offer – that of her mind, body and soul. She wanted to make love to him. Feeling her hands at the opening of his trousers quickly roused Erik from his momentary reverie. He took her small hands in his and spun her so that she now faced him.
"Do you know what you are doing?" he hissed, the painful throbbing in his loins growing greater with each passing moment.
"Yes . . ." she answered a strength he'd not heard before in her voice.
Erik was then surprised as Marie-Christine broke free from his grasp and walked away. She headed toward the small area of his lair where he had his drawings, paintings and other items of his past. Erik watched with a mixture of fascination and disbelief as Marie-Christine began to look through his items. She would pick a drawing, offer it a fleeting perusal and then place it back in its original position. This continued for a short while. Each time though, Erik could have sworn he caught Marie-Christine glancing at him, almost as if she were calling out to him with a single look.
Unable to stand the torture, Erik rose from his seat near the organ. Although each step was exquisitely painful, due in part to the tightness he felt in his trousers, he soon made his way to where Marie-Christine was situated and now he was directly behind her. Erik was about to speak when she turned and faced him.
"Erik?" Marie-Christine began.
"Yes," he answered as he did his best to concentrate.
'I have a question for you." She continued.
"A question . . .?" Erik was confused.
"It's about you."
"Me?" Erik seemed a bit taken aback at her admission.
"Actually you and me; Erik, I came to realize one thing," she paused as she took a sip from a nearby goblet of water.
"And that is?" Erik pressed further, curious as to where this conversation was heading and yet wanting to quench the fire she had lit within him.
"Although I've known you but a short time, you've been the most constant thing in my life. You're there . . . always. I just need to know one thing."
"What would that be?" Erik inquired as he arched his eyebrow.
A lump in her throat, Marie-Christine paused for a moment. Then she made her request. "I need to know that you'll be with me through everything, the coming days, the good times as well as the dark times. I need to know that you'll be there no matter what happens."
Erik stopped for a moment. This was something more than he could have ever imagined. Although her request was mysterious at best, Erik realized there was an almost hidden meaning to the words she spoke. She was not asking for just one night of physical pleasure. She was asking him to be with her for his life.
Perhaps Madame Giry was right. Perhaps she does care for ME as me and can look past the monster I am. Erik mused, thinking of how her request brought forth emotions he had not experienced in such a long time.
A small tear began to drift down his left cheek, but he was able to hold back the remaining tears of happiness that threatened to flood forward. "You do not have to ask ME such a question. I will always be here for you . . . now and forever.
Marie-Christine watched as Erik actually returned her smile. She was about to walk away from the small table that held Erik's many drawings, but was startled to find Erik blocking her path
"ERIK!" She was clearly startled, but not completely surprised.
"Marie-Christine," he whispered desire quite evident in his voice. The fire that had been smoldering was now raging within his soul.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice its own mixture of fear and excitement.
"I need you," he told her. If this was to be a night of requests, Erik did indeed have one that he wished fulfilled.
Marie-Christine felt Erik guide her with his body so that she was now situated in front of the small work table. He moved closer and she felt the edge of the table press into the back of her legs. The thinness of her nightshift did not provide much protection. Looking into Erik's eyes, she tried to reason with him, for what little good it did, "Erik, I know what you want."
"I need you. I want you," he replied as he gently lifted her onto the table. It would not merely be the physical coupling that Erik required, but the emotional bond that would come from the events of the night.
His words struck a nerve within Marie-Christine's body. As much as she craved his touch, she needed to remind him of one thing, "Erik, this is not a cure. You do know that right? You are a man to me. There is nothing to prove. I just want you to know that."
"I need you," he repeated as he placed one hand on each knee, inching them further and further apart until she was fully exposed to him. Slowly, he nipped at the sensitive part of her neck, producing a moan from within.
"Father used to say I never listened very well," she murmured as Erik continued his assault upon her senses; placing feather kisses along her brow, nose and her lips.
Squeezing his hips between her thighs, Marie-Christine reveled in the pleasure that coursed through her body. Although she was raised to take care of herself and be independent, there had been many times when she wished she could have found someone whom she could trust and to whom she could relinquish control. Erik was that man. Seeing how he took the initiative with her, Marie-Christine knew that his desire came from a want of a different sort; the need to be loved. That was not to say that she could not enjoy the physical pleasures of what was to come this evening.
Marie-Christine's thoughts were interrupted as she gasped for air, clutching Erik's hair in her hands; his mouth was diligently pulling at her hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her nightshift. He suckled with his mouth, eliciting a moan from Marie-Christine's lips. Erik's mouth left her momentarily as he blew a breath of warm air over the damp cloth, flicking her nipple with his thumb. He soon returned to her neglected breast.
Arching her hips in response to his "absence," Marie-Christine did her best to move closer to Erik's warm and hard body. She tried to capture his lips in hers, hoping for a searing kiss, but he dodged her advance.
"What do you want?" he growled, sensing the fire that he lit within Marie-Christine's being.
"You," she responded as she began to remove his shirt, finding that it clung to him like a second skin. She then gently pulled away his mask and the wig that went with it. Surprisingly Erik did not flinch at her gesture. He trusted her with his heart and soul. Tonight he knew that she would love him as a man.
"And?" Erik pressed as he brought Marie-Christine closer to his hardening arousal.
Marie-Christine cried out, desire making her faint. She kissed him boldly on the hollow of his throat, while she pulled his shirt down until he was free of it.
"I want you," Marie-Christine whimpered as she bit him lightly along his collarbone, her desire increasing as she felt his moan vibrate through his chest. "I want you inside me."
She scraped her teeth down his chest; flicking a tongue over his already hardened nipple. "On this table," she indicated as her hands dropped to his waist.
"I want you right now, Erik."
Taking the hem of her nightshift in his hands, Erik began to slide it up her legs with incredible slowness. When he reached her thighs, Erik moved her closer to him.
"Place your arms around my neck," he entreated, his eyes filled with an increasingly growing desire.
Marie-Christine inched forward, clutched at his shoulders, and rubbed her clothed but wet breasts over his naked chest. Erik continued to ease the fabric up over the curve of her buttocks, caressing her skin and allowing his hands to linger for a moment. Erik leaned forward and placed her back on the kitchen table.
"Raise your arms," he commanded as he pulled the garment up and off, tossing it to the ground. Marie-Christine was able to drink in Erik's spellbound expression as it traveled from her face and settled on her chest. He leaned forward again, hot mouth teasing each sensitized breast. Marie-Christine's hands stroked the curve of his back, tracing over his moist skin.
Marie-Christine's hands found some difficulty with the opening of his trousers. Erik provided assistance when she began sliding them down his hips. Marie-Christine leaned back on her elbows, watching as Erik shed his clothing, her eyes slightly glazed over with burning want. When the smooth muscles of Erik's body were revealed, he tugged Marie-Christine's hips to the edge of the table, sliding his fingers under the waistband of her undergarment, he began to gently pull them off and then he stopped. Marie-Christine regarded his teasing behavior with a ferocity he'd not seen before.
"Take them off," she growled as her eyelids trembled; growing heavier with each passing moment. Erik kneeled and gently pulled the silken undergarment slowly down her legs, his mouth following close behind. Suddenly, Marie-Christine became speechless as she found a scream trapped in her throat. Erik parted the folds near her curls with his fingers; delving inside with his tongue. Locking her legs around his neck, Marie-Christine laid back on the table, arching slightly with each touch his tongue made to her core. Erik continued to drink from her liquid depths, alternating his approach as he went deeper and deeper. At the same time, he massaged the sensitive skin at the back of her thighs.
Marie-Christine's body was afire; desire burning like she never felt before. Erik began to move his head from side to side, his stubble rubbing against her skin and reaching even deeper inside with his tongue. Delectable pressure twisted tighter and tighter until it she felt as if she would burst from the inside. Marie-Christine arched off the table, panting heavily as Erik's tongue continued to stroke her inner walls.
"Erik" she panted, her voice filled with want as he placed a kiss to each of her slightly chafed inner thighs. His silken length rubbed against her as he hovered over and planted his hands on each side of her body.
"Marie-Christine, what do you want me to do?" he asked.
"I want you," she implored, still out of breath. Erik simply smiled down on her, eyes changed from passion. Marie-Christine added, "Now" as she clutched at his shoulders; pulling herself up from the table.
Erik rubbed the head of his hardened arousal against her tantalizing Marie-Christine before finally penetrating her. Clenching her teeth in frustration, Marie-Christine endured as Erik slid his silken length into her inch by inch. Marie-Christine was about to cry out from the combination of pleasure and pain his firm length was inducing, when Erik finally buried himself completely inside her.
"Harder, Erik," Marie-Christine ordered as she bit his earlobe passionately. He responded to her command as he pushed himself further into her heated core.
"Yes," she whispered as Erik began increasing the pace of his strokes. Marie-Christine bit near his jaw line, nipping at him once more when he moaned in response. She worried for a moment about the marks she would leave, but only for a moment. Erik drove into her mercilessly, but it wasn't enough to lessen the aching growing within her body. Marie-Christine wound her arms around his waist and cupped his buttocks, grinding into his intense thrusts.
Feeling her need, Erik paused for a moment, "Lie back." Marie-Christine looked into his eyes, her auburn hair fanned on the wooden table, and did as he instructed; trusting that he knew how to give her pleasure. Without breaking their intimacy, he gently pulled her calves up to rest on his shoulders. Marie-Christine felt a hitch in her breath as this new position allowed him to penetrate even further inside her body.
"This is more than I could have ever imagined," she thought, knowing Erik was thinking somewhere along the same lines.
Erik continued with such force, that Marie-Christine flung her arms out and grasped the edge of the small table. Erik secured her hips, pulling her against him as he continued his thrusts into her. Marie-Christine let out small gasps as he stroked one wall, twisting their hips as he moved, and stroked the other. His head was hitting her so deeply that Marie-Christine might have been worried about the wounds she might have to deal with later, had she not been taking pleasure in it so much.
No, taking pleasure was not the word. She felt his hardened arousal driving into her, felt him in every pore, every fiber of her being. Everything in her body ached to be near him, toward his straining muscles. Opening her eyes and gazing at his visage, framed by sweat-dampened locks of sandy-brown hair, Marie-Christine locked eyes with Erik once more as he took her over the edge; plunging her into a sweet abyss. As she contracted around him, Erik continued to thrust against her overly sensitized walls; the additional stimuli produced a soundless scream of supreme release.