A/N: Couple of quick notes. First of all, I apologize for how long it has taken me to post. I had company. Sorry.
Secondly, I would suggest going back and reading chapter 18 again before beginning this one, as chapters 18-20 sort of fit together and I want you all to get the full effect of the sexual tension I have been building.
Also, I wanted to humbly apologize to xxphantomphanessxx for our misunderstanding in the last chapter. I was in no way angry at you for your comment. Reviews are for sharing your opinion and I was seriously just goofing off. For future reference, I am very seldom actually serious in my replies.
Finally, one final note to pass along. In my fic, both Erik and Christine have had previous sexual encounters. You will recall that C and R were married for 6 years and he commented in previous chapters about their disappointing sex life. And in my mind, after Christine married and Erik emerged topside, he attempted to live a normal life in all respects and that included dating. If you remember, Henry the butler mentioned seeing several beautiful women draped on his master's arm over the years. However, in my view, Erik is far too sensitive to enjoy sex without love, so in the end, he gave up the effort entirely and came to live in the emotionless state that we found him in at the beginning of the story.
Lots of new reviewers this chapter. Must be all the fluff. Welcome to the fic!
WARNING: The next three chapters are what earned this story the M rating, so be forewarned. (Though I doubt most of you will complain.)
Masqueraders: Thanks so much for your kind words (and the Erik plushie). I am happy to be one of your favs. Get ready for the good stuff. Welcome!
Mz. Kelsi: Please don't cry. I usually update every day, but it was a busy weekend. Here are two chapters to ease your suffering. Welcome to the fic!
darklady5289: Thanks! I am pleased that you are enjoying it so much. And every side of Erik is sexy. He can't help it.
Kagome1514: Thanks for the French lesson. Consider it fixed. And you still have a tiny bit of drool on your chin.
Hearts Aflame: Thought you would. Bet you like these two too.
eternalcelestial: And now your "anticipation" will at last be sated. Enjoy the fluff!
Twinkle 22: Sorry it took so long to update, but this kind of stuff can't be rushed. Thanks for the compliments. Hope you enjoy these next two.
Orphelia-Rose: If that last one got to you, you had better sit down for the next two. You are officially the fourth person to call me evil after that last chapter. Hope this installment "works" for you. Ha Ha
erikfan: sorry. i am truly evil.
xxphantomphanessxx: No, sweetie, you didn't. I was seriously just goofing off and was in now way offended. Forgive me, please? I tried to write back immediately to apologize, but your email wasn't listed on your profile, so I posted an apology on your website. (Very cool, by the way.) So please, as I said in my post, don't stop reading and reviewing just because I was an idiot. And from now on, just know I am always teasing and never serious, okay? We would miss you if you left us.
Wilting Angel: More sexy Erik – just what we all want to hear, right? Well, he is alive and well and taking center stage for the next two chapters. Hang onto your hats ladies!
sexxy-spider-theatre-freak: Wicked, I haven't been called that before. Thank you! I love my evil cliffies. Welcome aboard!
draegon-fire: I am evil, aren't I? I will make it up to you in these two chappies, I promise! And no, neither Erik nor Raoul were involved in the opera diva accident at La Scala. It was truly just an accident.
X-Ciel: Sexual tension is exactly what I was trying to create in the mood of the last chapter, so I am honored that you found me successful. For the full effect of these next two, go back and read 18 again first. Welcome aboard! Glad to have you.
Nugrey: Thank you. Glad to have you with us!
Captain Oblivious: Fifth person to call me evil after reading 18. And yes, I think you will see that Erik DEFINITELY knows what he is doing. Very sexy. See my A/N on the subject above.
lafemme540: Yes, sexy Erik is indeed fun.
ackari smith: Sorry, but the spot beside Erik on the bed is already occupied by your dear author. I was just taunting you with my last comment. He is really all mine.
xo-little-lotte-xo: sorry. you were not the only one to call me evil after that one.
nameless1010: You are the third person to call me evil! Yeah, Christine is toast, in the previous words of JemaModa, as are all we phangirls when Erik is poised in such an enticing position. Glad you are enjoying the fic. Welcome!
Jema Moda: First of all, we have already discussed your vicious lies about finding MY Erik on your bed with wine glasses when you got home. That is just wrong. Secondly, you have nailed me dead to rights on my obsession with Erik's hands. I have a fettish. I don't deny it. Thirdly, no, writing a chapter full of sexual tension is kind of fun. I don't remember giving birth being fun at all. Let me know if you think I got all Erik's "moves" down right.
Allistair: Six "evils" a "wicked" and now a "meanie". Tells me I must have written a good cliffie. Welcome to the fic. I will leave you hanging no more. Enjoy!
Ayame Ito: Sixth person to call me evil for this one. But I don't regret it! Hee Hee Hee
MadameOG: I hear ya sister. And we are arriving there fast.
Ch. 19 - Fighting the Tides
Christine's hand flew to her waist as if to steady herself. Her cheeks were flaming now. "I...I prefer to stand," she managed weakly, accepting the offered glass. She sipped slowly and felt the delicious warmth spread through her body, helping to ease her screaming nerves. As if drawn by a magnetic force, her eyes traveled eagerly over his long, lean frame sprawled elegantly before her.
Erik was so agonizingly beautiful, lounging on the bed in his usual easy grace. Lying there, he was a dark god: utterly masculine in his powerful, confident sensuality. What chance did she have to resist him? Her body was already tingling in anticipation, and she was finding it difficult to breathe normally.
Erik raised an eyebrow at her refusal to join him, but Christine knew from his mocking expression that he had guessed the reason. His voice was low and suggestive, his eyes making clear that he was highly aware of his effect on her. "As you wish, my dear, but I give you my word as a gentleman that your virtue is safe with me." Until you request otherwise, he thought wickedly. Then there would be nothing on earth that would stop him from claiming her at last.
Erik watched her as she sipped her wine, his eyes never leaving her mouth. He imagined the taste of the amber liquid on her lips and the feel of those same lips pressed warm and damp to his own flesh. The soft curve of her breasts just above the modest neckline of her dress heaved noticeably in her obvious arousal, and the alluring rhythm held him mesmerized. He imagined them free from the restraints of her clothing and his mouth reverently adoring each one in turn. The lower half of his body tightened painfully at the thought. Though he had meant for his carefully devised seduction to continue indefinitely throughout the remainder of the day, his body was becoming increasingly impatient and his thoughts increasingly bold.
Christine shivered at the blatant display of hunger in his eyes. Why could she not simply give in to what both their bodies were now begging for? She knew the answer. Even now, her insecurities continued to plague her. Erik had been waiting for this day for so long. What if she disappointed him? After all, with her modest experience, she could hardly expect to live up to what he had undoubtedly imagined in his mind. And even worse she still worried that once he had her in body, his interest in the rest of her would gradually begin to wane. After giving herself to him, she felt she would surely die if he chose to leave her again.
Christine stepped back to the window, putting as much distance between herself and Erik as possible within the confines of the room. The space beside him on the bed was calling to her, but she knew without a doubt that if she were to take it, there would be nothing in the world to save her from herself.
She stared out the window thinking back to all their years in the Paris opera house and how many events had been leading up to this day. She and he were destined to become one - mind, soul, and body. Christine had no doubt of that. But the question that she had sung to him eight long years ago on stage now echoed in her mind once again: How long should we two wait...?
At the thought of the Paris opera house, she suddenly remembered the news which she had meant to tell him immediately upon her arrival, but had forgotten in the wake of his seduction. A smile lit her face. "Erik, I nearly forgot. I have the most wonderful news! I have been asked to..."
She never finished her sentence. As she moved to turn around, her efforts met once again with the solid wall of Erik's chest.
He had stepped behind her while she had been lost in her thoughts, and his hands gripped her arms with velvet force, denying her the ability to turn around. Instead, she gasped as his lips found the side of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as Erik moved his mouth in a languid twisting pattern along the ivory column of her throat. Every touch of it seared her skin, burning a path of scorched flesh that set every nerve ending aflame. When his tongue slipped into the hollow of her collarbone, she abandoned all attempt at coherent thought, content to luxuriate instead in the realm of sensation. Speech was denied her and all thoughts of La Scala and her imminent move fled quite willingly from her mind.
Erik's hands traveled down her arms and came to slide against her rib cage. Increasing the pressure slightly, he moved them down her hips and along the outer edge of her thighs. Christine gasped again and felt her legs would give way.
Sensing her unsteadiness, Erik reached down and scooped her into his arms, intending to carry her to the bed and ravish her as he had been aching to do all day. But just before he reached it, he paused. He had told himself that he would not allow this to happen before everything was made right between them and Christine herself asked him to make love to her. He would die if they came together after all this time and she came to regret it. Sighing, he gently laid her on the bed.
Christine's heart was hammering in her chest as her body met the burgundy silk of the bed that she had been admiring earlier. Today, after so many years of waiting and longing, he would be hers at last. Her skin flushed with desire. She had surrendered entirely of her own free will, and now lay awaiting the inevitable in eager anticipation.
But much to her disappointment, instead of lying down next to her and taking her at last, Erik sat down heavily beside her. He ran a hand through his hair and seemed suddenly wearied by the constant struggle to keep control over his body.
Sensing her confusion, he turned to her and reached out with the back of his hand to trace the line of her jaw. His eyes were filled with regret. "I am sorry, my love. I promised myself that I would not push you for this until you were ready. What is it that they say? The mind is willing, but the flesh is weak?" he smiled ruefully, continuing to stroke her jaw line with his thumb. "That is certainly true in my case, but I swear to you Christine, that I will not make love to you until you ask it of me. That is my vow."
She looked crestfallen, and Erik couldn't help but grin at her obvious disappointment. "But I am certain you will test the limits of my resolve mercilessly, my dear," he whispered, in a voice that sent fresh shivers down her spine.
"I will leave you here to rest for a few moments while I make us some supper. I shall call you when it is ready." Erik leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to her forehead, then turned and left the room. After she was quite certain he was really gone, Christine pulled a burgundy silk pillow over her mouth and let out a muffled scream from beneath it. Her body was begging her desperately to run after him and ask the question he required, but the weight of her desire had once again robbed her temporarily of her power of speech. Now, she lay with her body on fire and a deep irritable feeling of discontent. Was Erik mocking her in his refusal to sate her desire, or was he tiring of her already?
She lay there a long time, staring at the ceiling, and eventually her eyes did indeed fall closed. After all, she had hardly slept the night before due to their midnight adventure. At last, she heard Erik's voice calling up the stairs. "Christine, our meal is ready."
Hastily, she stood and attempted to make herself presentable. Her skirt was wrinkled, and she found a good deal of her hair pins had come undone. She found a mirror on the inside of the wardrobe door and quickly pinned it all back up again. When at last she was satisfied, she stepped lightly down the stairs, feeling herself again.
The smells that met her appreciative nose from the vicinity of the kitchen were heavenly. As she entered, she saw a small table just large enough for two on which a wonderful Italian meal had been prepared. Her eyes roamed over the delicious looking bread, pasta, and salad, as Erik appeared from around the corner with a fresh flask of wine. Setting it carefully on the table, he held out a chair for her. She gratefully accepted it and took her place at the table. Christine suddenly realized she hadn't eaten since the night before.
"Erik, this looks wonderful."
He smiled briefly and sat down in the chair across from her.
"You made all this yourself didn't you?" she asked, clearly impressed.
Erik shrugged. "When one has lived alone as long as I have, he has no choice but to learn a few useful domestic skills. Cooking happens to be something I have come to enjoy, so I take the time to do it well." He lifted the salad bowl and held it out to her.
Christine took it and smiled at his usual modesty, taking a moment to study the beloved face that had once struck fear in all the hearts of Paris. He truly was a man beneath all of his mystery and enigma. And that man was utterly alluring to her. She felt drawn to him by the forces of nature themselves, like the ocean tides to the will of the moon. Her face lit with newfound appreciation.
"You are a very talented, intriguing man, Erik. I wonder if you will ever truly understand how unique and amazing you are," she said softly.
He looked up as he poured them both a glass of wine. For a moment, it seemed he would protest her flattery, but in the end he merely searched her eyes and realizing her sincerity, accepted her compliment with a gracious nod. "Thank you, Christine."
They talked easily over their meal, the years between them slipping away. Christine shared anecdotes of her life in the Teatro Comunale, and Erik shared stories from his travels, including a riotous account of his encounter with Jacques in Switzerland.
Christine was laughing so hard, she felt tears in her eyes. "Oh Erik, you didn't? Leave him hanging there like that?" But she found her sympathy for the man was limited since he had both attempted to rob Erik of several thousand francs and had been responsible for a large portion of the delay in their reunion.
After a time, the conversation quieted again and Erik grew serious once more. He reached across the table to take her hand gently in his own.
"Tell me what your life has been like these past years, Christine. How did that frightened little girl from the Paris opera house come to be a magnificent diva living here in Florence?" he asked quietly. His desire to know all of her life in his absence was sincere, and it was the only thing momentarily outweighing his hunger for her body.
Christine looked up at him uncertainly, her eyes searching his face. "Do you really want to know all of my tawdry past?" she whispered.
Erik chuckled softly. "My dear, I find it highly unlikely it could ever rival my own."
With a deep breath, Christine began her story of the past eight years. She omitted nothing, feeling that it was better to lay all of her skeletons to the light than to risk any further misunderstandings between them. Once or twice when she was forced to make reference to Raoul, she would glance at Erik out of the corner of her eye, attempting to gauge his reaction. At times, she thought she saw a faint flicker of anger register on his face, but he did not interrupt. Instead, he merely listened, nodding occasionally but choosing not to offer comment.
After nearly an hour, their glasses were empty and she had arrived in her tale to the present at last. Erik remained silent, considering thoughtfully all that he had heard. Throughout her story, there was one common thread that had linked every event in the chain of Christine's life over their years apart. Aside from that one fateful night beneath the Opera Populaire, she had remained entirely devoted to him in her heart, never wavering no matter how many people and events had attempted to intervene. He was touched beyond words by this knowledge.
Erik's eyes held deep gratitude and wonder as he turned them at last to lock with hers. His hand cupped her cheek and he smiled gently. "Thank you, Christine, for making me understand all that has been in your heart these many years. You can not know how much your words have meant to me."
He stood and stepped over to her, pulling her up into his arms and searching her face intently for a moment. He brushed a thumb over her lips, and then moved to claim them in a tender kiss. The carefully concealed emotion that he had held inside for so long was revealed at last and rushed over her in a mighty wave, leaving her breathless as his kiss deepened and changed into something utterly new and different. It blossomed into a powerful gesture of acceptance and trust, and most importantly of all, forgiveness.
In the intensity of the moment, Christine leaned into his body, pressing herself against him, as if to be as close to him physically as she felt now in her heart. But once more, it was Erik who broke the contact.
"I am sorry my love, but if I am adhere to my previous resolution, I am afraid it would be unwise for us to remain in this position." He stepped back from her completely and Christine felt the all-too-familiar ache at nature's will being denied once more.
She sighed, wondering inwardly how long the two of them could keep up this awkward dance. After all, no matter how the waves might rage against it, in the end, the tide could not help but obey the pull of the Moon.
