Shade: Hello guys, I'm back! Guess what? A two week vacation ahead of me now. I will have internet access though, so I might be able to update from there, m'kay? And this is the chapter mostly all of you have waited for (cough cough) Dragon-mage16 (cough cough). JK! You know what I mean when I say STRONG sexual content. I'm warning you now, it's graphic. But tasteful in my opinion. K, have fun! I know you will. (wink)
"Silently the senses
Abandon their defenses . . ." –Music of the Night
Chapter 28: Sedating the Monster and the Beast
Part One: The Black Demon
On a morning not too long after my true awakening, I was hounded by a black demon in my sleep. It had taken the shape of Erik, which further deepened the agony; nothing could ever hurt me more than the veracity that I had decimated our only chance at happiness. I was completely to blame; if I hadn't worked so hard for ignorant, meaningless revenge, I wouldn't be hurting now. I would most likely be tangled in the sheets of Erik's bed, my body unscarred but for my head and my old self, the me Erik had fallen for, wouldn't be torn and strewn to the wind in frayed, tattered ends. The old me wouldn't be dead.
I rolled out of bed one morning and landed softly on the floor. I turned to look at Erik, who had slept dutifully beside me every night since I had implored it of him. He was deceptively peaceful, though I knew a war raged within him every day. I knew in a glance that he longed to show me the true art of lovemaking. His bodily desires were extremely strong, but his dexterity would never allow him to make such an abrupt advance when he knew how scarred a creature I had become.
I had pretended to be blind to it; to not see the pain in his eyes when I resisted a gentle embrace, to ignore the longing in his gaze when he looked at me quickly from across the room.
Your fault he suffers . . . your fault he's in pain! Your fault, your fault . . .
Stop it, I would plead. Stop and leave me alone. Please!
Your fault, your fault, YOUR FAULT!
STOP!
You don't deserve anything from him! You deserve to suffer! Eternal pain for the vain Fire Rose who was blinded by her own narcissistic ways!
The voice would never leave my head; it knew what I refused to admit. I was a failure as a lover and as a wife and I wasn't worthy of cleaning Erik's feet.
Worthless beast . . . the demon would taunt in Erik's voice. All I could do was weep.
Crying had become a black disease on my persona. Before, it was below me to weep in public, and I bottled my sorrow and converted it to anger and darkness instead. I would have rather killed than be seen with tears in my eyes. And now, now everything made me weep, for everything I had so yearned for and treasured had shattered before me, leaving me with nothing but the hollow shell of my body. I had never known anything that could even scathe my pride, let alone demolish it completely. My ignorance was my Achilles' heel. And the arrow that had slain Achilles quickly still refused to take my life. The poison of depression works slowly, I realized disdainfully.
I walked silently from Erik's room, not wanting to look back and see him lying there in contentment, dreaming of what I could never give to him. The candles' warm glow bathed me and I was immediately soothed by their gentle caress.
Worthless beast . . . I will bet you cannot even dance anymore. Can you, Fire Rose? Can you impersonate the beauty you were, or have you become too much of a wretch to remember?
I paused. Dancing had always been a solace for me. It provided me with my own world, fabricated of an alluring melody and the beat of a drum that matched my heart. Perhaps it could assist me, and supply me with a much needed haven.
I walked to the most level and cleared out part of the lair and wished myself to remember my favorite tune. It was the tune I had danced to on my first day above in the Opera. It was the first time I saw Erik want me. Such beauty could save me from the pits of despair. I just had to remember.
Slowly, I brought my hands above my head and began to move my hips. I could feel the drums beat in my ears and I slipped easily into the routine. However, I remained cognizant of my surroundings. I was not whisked off to the world of song I had so lovingly created as an escape from the fangs or reality. It was gone . . . my dancing heart was gone . . .
You cannot! See, Fire Rose? You cannot impersonate your old beauty! You are nothing now but a wanton whore! A whore is that which once was the most desirable virgin in the world!
I crashed into the desk as my steps became out of sync. I cursed vehemently under my breath and I stumbled on my feet. The rhythm began to blur in my head and I lost all sense of the melody as it rose to a cacophony that I could no longer bear.
The greatest talent can no longer dance! What demonic victory is this? The voice jeered tauntingly and my senses began to dull. I knew I was going to faint soon. In desperation to keep going, I grabbed a knife and sliced my palms open, sending a shock of scorching pain to my lethargic nerves. I saw the blood surge from the wounds and onto my fingertips. For a reason I didn't know, I smeared the blood across my cheeks like fingers of war paint. The stench of my blood rose up and clouded my head; fainting was an undesirable feeling. I collapsed back, feeling my body go rigid and I crashed into a candelabrum, sending it and myself careening backwards into the lake. There was a clang of metal and a splash as dots danced across my vision. I remained awake as I sank into the lake; I would drown. It would be an accident. Erik deserved someone who could satisfy him in every way. I could not; ergo there was no reason why my existence should hurt him anymore.
"Nasrin!" I heard Erik cry as he undoubtedly realized I was not beside him. What a foolish man. Didn't he see that what I was doing was for his own good? My nose and mouth finally submerged and I awaited my final moments with abnormal composure.
Immediately, an arm surged in the water and fished me out. I reluctantly breathed in air as I was firmly crushed in an embrace. Erik's breathing was very ragged and his breath was choked with horrible sobs.
"What happened? Are you all right? Where are you bleeding?" I had never heard him so panicked.
I sat up in his arms and reluctantly showed him my palms. He froze as he saw the gashes across my hand shimmer with fresh spurts of blood. Without hesitation, he tore his shirt and bound my wounds shut.
"Honestly, Nasrin. I'm going to run out of cloth to rip with your injuries." He said it curtly, and I knew a jest was not implied. His eyes found mine, and they were set as twin maelstroms in the middle of a raging inferno. "What . . . did you do this for?" He pointed to the newly bound wounds angrily, his face set in stark rage.
"I can't dance anymore . . . I cannot do anything to help me escape life." I clenched my fists with the same rage he showed, and I was strangely satisfied at the way my blood surged forward from the movement and immediately soaked the cloth through.
"So you do what? Try to drown yourself?" He grabbed my shoulders violently, squeezing my flesh with the rough vices of his hands.
I let out a breath that sounded like a laugh. "No, I tripped. When I fell into the water, I wanted to let myself die. I didn't want to cause you any more pain. You deserve everything I cannot give you."
"Are you saying that you cannot love me?" he asked, his head tilted as he shook back rage.
"I do love you; you fail to understand me. I-"
"Silence yourself right now!" he bellowed, shaking me once as if to jar common sense into my head. He grabbed my face and, rather roughly, yanked my face against his, just enough so I could see his jaw muscles work under his skin as he clenched his teeth. "If you love me, you would never consider forsaking your own life when you know how much I need you. The sexual aspect of our bond can wait. I only need you beside me. Don't you ever tell me that your death would liberate me! I had no idea you could be so ignorant! If I had awoken to find you lifeless in my lake . . . I would . . . I would have. . ." He gulped and I saw a regiment of tears storm the fronts of his eyes and breach the barricade of his lower lashes. His rough grip disappeared and was replaced by a gentle embrace in which he lowered his head to my shoulder and nuzzled into it like a small child, weeping like one as well.
At first, I was stoic, untouched by his notion. But then, from the corridors of my memory, I remembered all those times he had barricaded his emotions, robbed me of a sight of his soul. Now, he was nothing more than a sniveling child in my arms, showing me the extent of his fear, his sorrow, and his rage. I quickly wrapped my arms loosely around him and rested my head in the dip between his neck and shoulder. As I held him, I realized that I had never felt so selfish in my life. I was robbing a man of his happiness knowingly, and I would have done it because I thought I knew what was best for him.
"I'm sorry, my love. Please, angel, don't cry anymore. I won't leave you again." I found my own eyes burn with tears and I let myself cry into him.
He pulled away and chastely kissed me, reassuring me of his presence beside me as well. I put my hands on his face, stroking the well-defined features of his beautifully unorthodox face. He paused and examined my hands, finding the bandages were doing next to nothing soaked through.
"We must bind them correctly. It will hurt, but I guess the price for pain is more pain, no?" He removed the cloth and grabbed the black string with the needle. "I warn you, this will hurt quite a bit."
"I won't make a sound," I reassured, extending my hand to him.
"I wouldn't think any less of you if you did," he replied simply.
I gritted my teeth as I felt the needle pierce my flesh again and again, closing the space between the two pieces of skin. My eyes watered, but I remained silent but for a slight gasp every time he pulled skin together. My other hand fell to the ground and I gripped the grimy stone. He paused.
"Don't do that. Otherwise, that hand will get infected and that only means more pain." He paused as I lifted my hand up. "I never thought you a masochist, Nasrin. A sadist, yes, but I never thought it would be you succumbing to urges of self-annihilation. That was a path I myself abandoned long ago." He fell silent and resumed his work. The rest of the encounter was wordless, though the air was thick and rank with a palpable emotion I couldn't place.
"Done. You shouldn't move your hands for a while, otherwise the stitches will split." I moved my hands slightly and a searing pain ripped through them. I must have winced, for he repeated. "You shouldn't move your hands."
"Very well, shall we to bed again? I seem to be more lethargic of late." I stood on my feet and waited as he joined me and together, we walked back to bed, though neither of us could sleep peacefully. This time, when Erik embraced me and whispered soft words of comfort, the taunting voice of my depression was repelled, for my mind lay only with the real Erik, not on my past mistakes.
xXxXx
Part Two: The Sweetest Surrender
The weeks blurred together after that and I hardly knew how long it was that I remained below. After the whole dancing incident, I began to gain weight again. My physical recovery was going wonderfully. I even had the stitches removed from my hands; my mind and the horrid pictures it held had not even begun to convalesce. I didn't want . . . I couldn't tell Erik that every time he touched me, I fought the thundering urge to flee. It would break his heart, and I swore I would never hurt him ever again.
I loved him so badly that though he slept beside me, I dreamed of him every night, and each dream was of the same nature. In various ways, he would somehow convince me to cast aside my memories of my pain, and just like that, they were gone. Then I was always free to love him as I saw fit. I wanted him to be the one to have me in every way, love me, and free me of these black demons that inhabited my thoughts.
One morning, I slid myself from his arms and took off my clothing. I needed to bathe again, and I grabbed the body oil he purchased for me in town. I waded in the lake and dipped in, shivering at the coldness of the water. I missed my warm baths up at the Opera, but those days were over; I refused to go back above. Too many hateful memories wandered down the hallways; I wouldn't be able to take it.
I washed myself with the oil, and the sweet smell of jasmine wafted up to my nose. I had long since forsaken the scent of roses; that was the scent of seduction, of sexual desire, and of passion, none of which I embodied now, or would ever again. I had learned my lesson; the abrasions and scars on my torso, inner thighs, and femininity as well as the damage done to my mind were proof.
With Erik's bathing cloth, I freed my skin of the grotesque smell of sweat and grime, lavishing the oil on my tender skin. Once I was clean, I simply stood in the water, waist deep, and looked out towards the weaving path of the labyrinth, losing myself in dusty memories.
I felt hands grab my shoulders, big, rough hands, yet gentle. Nevertheless, I screamed in fright, my head whipping back. I began to shiver and Erik held up his hands in defeat, bowing his head and walking backwards out of the lake. I placed my right hand over my ravaged dignity and wrapped my left arm across my breasts before I turned around completely. I looked at him somberly, fiercely hating myself for crying out in alarm.
He cocked his eyebrows and looked down at me, as if confused. "Nasrin, why are you doing that?" He motioned to my hands, which covered me modestly.
"I'm dignifying myself," I muttered. "I'm covering myself." I both hated and adored the look of propriety on his face.
He walked up to me and for a moment, I felt uneasy. But the look of raw sorrow in his eyes kept me rooted in my spot. He stood an arms length from me and looked at me closer.
"Yes I know . . . so why are you doing that?" He reached for my hand, which lay across my breasts. "Nasrin, you were naked when I returned for you. There is no need to hide what has already been seen." I hesitantly backed away, not knowing quite how to properly proceed. His hand wrapped easily around my left wrist and he tugged at my arm gently. As I let it fall to my side, he took a step closer to me. The fear and the pain were fading slowly as I looked deep into those beautiful eyes that had both frightened me and comforted me in an instant.
He never broke eye contact as he grasped my right wrist and pulled it from my body. I began to quiver, feeling so hatefully vulnerable to a man. Erik paused for a moment before he joined my hands together and kissed them as he would a small child. He closed his eyes and as soon as the kiss ended, he looked up and met my gaze.
"You have nothing to fear anymore, Nasrin. I told you; I will protect you always." He embraced me gently, his hands barely brushing against my flesh, though I felt his urges to grasp me firmly.
He had suffered enough; he would not sacrifice his needs anymore for my weakness. I couldn't let him; it wasn't fair. I decided then that I would give myself completely to him of my own volition, and no dark memories of mine would prevent his happiness.
I pressed my hands against his chest, kissing the large column of his neck. He gasped for a moment, obviously never expecting me to instigate any type of contact. His grip slightly tightened and I felt more heat envelope my senses. I fascinated myself with the way his skin tasted and felt under my lips. It was soft and tender, yet strong; his perspiration was both salty with sacrifice and sweet with the nectar of what I knew to be the essence of love.
He breathed out what sounded like a long hiss and I looked up in time to see his eyes roll back, a smile tugging on his lips. He moved up his hand and ran the tips of his fingers over my scalp. I had forgotten I had not put on my wig and I was immediately ashamed.
I paused, retreating from his arms quickly. His eyes snapped open and he looked at me, again perturbed.
"Wait, I need to get something. I'll be right back," I assured him. I walked over to his paintings of Christine, most of which were torn and tattered. There were the few remaining pictures of me, along with the shelf in which my old outfit lay. I hastily put on the clothes, eager to cover my shameful nakedness. Next to where my old outfit lay was my wig, untouched in months. I hastily yanked it over my distortion, positioning it to be as natural as possible. I walked over to him again, smiling glumly as I twirled a long curl with my finger.
"Why did you need to get this?" he asked me softly. He touched the façade, and the look of disdain in his eyes told me that he no longer saw its beauty.
"You just made the motion of running your fingers through my hair. It's understandable. You did with Christine; I thought you missed that and-"
Erik grabbed the wig and threw it angrily aside. I was completely in shock as I watched it fall and land softly over the shattered remains of his mask. Why did he remove that which he so desired?
"Why?" I whispered numbly, overcome by the power locked behind his bright blue eyes. I felt myself becoming weak beneath them.
"Nasrin, you are not Christine Daaé; you never were her in any way, and you never will be like her." Each syllable cut through me like a knife and I felt myself fall before him in submission, tears streaming from my eyes until my sight blurred.
"I'm sorry. I only wanted to make you happy . . . I know I'm not Christine but I thought perhaps I could at least have some of what she does," I wailed loudly, clawing angrily at my monstrosity of a head. I wanted to rip my scalp off, tear away the scars and let new skin grow in its place, devoid of torment and repulsiveness.
He grabbed my hands and kneeled down to my height, smiling at me fondly. "You didn't let me finish, my little Fire Rose. Nasrin, I don't want you two to be the same."
"What?" I asked, now completely confused. What was it he desired of me?
"I don't want you to be like Christine, because it takes away your most beautifully ironic feature."
"Which is what?" I asked, eager for an answer.
He pulled me close, so close his heart beat was in my ear. And, with one hand on my left cheek, whispered into my right ear, "Yourself."
I knew at that moment that fate would not be denied again. We were meant to have each other, to surrender our beings to one another. Nothing, I realized, would ever change that. I looked up at Erik, expecting and yearning for him to show me how to give myself completely of my own will. Such desires as I felt would not be restrained for long.
But he did what I would never have expected to do after proclaiming something so passionate: he released me and stood up, moving to walk away.
In an instant, I grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his skin. Oh no, my love. You aren't leaving now.
He paused, looking down at me with confusion. I was shaking as I pulled him down to my level again, clutching so tightly to him that I feared I would draw blood.
"What is it?" he asked me. "Oh God, Nasrin did I hurt you?" He stroked my face, wiping away the tears that spilled effortlessly from my eyes.
"No Erik, you didn't hurt me." I looked up and detached myself from his arm. I reached out, and touched his face, feeling my hands tingle against his flesh, both the marred and flawless, in anxious anticipation.
"What is it then?" He grabbed my wrist and planted a soft kiss on my palm.
"Erik, you said that you would help me close my wounds . . ."
"Of course, darling. Whatever it took." He massaged my palm with his thumb. He saw me clearly hesitate, and his expression became severe.
"I . . . what he did to me . . . I don't need to explain how it affected me." He shook his head mutely. "I need you to . . ." I bit my lip.
"What?" he asked, looking as though he feared and yearned the inevitable answer.
"I need you to make me feel as though I am loved and cherished. You understand . . . I haven't felt that way in a while. I need you to tell me that you love me in a language only spoken by lovers."
Erik's eyebrows knitted together and he hesitated; he swallowed with effort before speaking. "You recoil from even the slightest contact. I would fear hurting you as I am . . . inexperienced in such physical matters."
"You won't hurt me," I reassured, on the brink of pleading. "If I tense, just whisper to me. I need you, Erik."
"Why?"
"Because, I told you. I would only love you. I want a family with you." Decimating the barricade I had erected in my mind, tears streamed down my face and I choked on my words. "Later on in life I want to walk through the streets of town holding a child in my arms; a child of our blood. That will never come to pass if I still carry wounds as deep as this. I need you to help me forget." I closed my eyes, allowing two more tears to trace the outlines of my face.
There was thick silence that followed and I was about to give up hope, thinking he would decline, saying it was beyond him to touch me or that my scars were too grotesque. Soon after, his hand wiped away my tears, his fingers gently caressing my lips. I shivered as he kissed my hand, moving up my arm and planting chaste, gentle kisses along my skin. He reached my shoulder, his lips still moving, pressing against my neck and my jaw, stopping at the beginning of my lips. I pulled away for a second, a thought searing in my mind.
"I don't want you to do this just for pity's sake. I want you to do this because you love and cherish me."
"Yes, I know."
"So if you don't, it would be best to-"
"I want to do this because I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are," he mumbled, his lips brushing against mine.
"Oh, so-"
He had grown restless and silenced me with the most compassionate kiss I had ever felt. His arms moved around my back and he touched my skin gently. I tensed in his arms, but not in fright. I loved the feeling of his hands against my flesh. I wanted that tingling to be everywhere; I wanted him to know my body the way I wanted to know his.
Slowly my mouth opened up to his, allowing his tongue to surge in my mouth. I felt my senses begin to sharpen as his kisses deepened and his groans became louder. I placed my hands on his chest, almost smiling as he clutched me to him, fighting against his urges to quicken the sensations.
Our kisses had lost their chastity and we had since been devouring each other's lips, breathing against one another and allowing small moans of contentment to pass between us.
I shrank away slightly and smiled at him, pulling him against me as I fell gracefully on my back. I wanted to feel him lay on me, feel his weight on me, his heart on mine. Instead, he hovered over me, his eyebrows cocked.
"Do you think I would have you on the ground? Come, let me carry you to our bed."
Our bed . . . Yes . . . please do. He helped me up, and I began to walk slowly over to it. However, he gathered me up in his arms, and I felt myself clinging to his undershirt. I did not want to laugh and spoil the air of thick desire that loomed over us like rain clouds ready to burst.
Each step rocked me back and forth, as if I were being lulled to sleep. I rested my head against his, nibbling on his ear and smiling as he gasped slightly.
When we reached the side of the bed, he set me down and we both stood there, very much like nervous children, and neither of us advanced. Erik's hands had fallen to his side and his eyes made every effort to avoid mine.
Time to take the leap, Nasrin . . . at long last.
I walked over to him, placing my hands on his chest and kissing his neck and chest, tasting the sweet flavor of his skin. I suckled on the pale skin, my teeth slowly moving across each inch of it until it blushed under me. His flesh was growing warmer than I had ever imagined it could and I felt my heart soar as he grabbed my shoulders, moving down my arms and waist, his breath becoming ragged. My hands slid under his shirt, navigating blindly over the ridges of his muscles, his bones, and the thin patches of fine hair. I softly caressed the marred flesh the gypsies had left him and he moaned slightly. I kissed his chest and felt his heart beat against my lips.
I wanted him so much . . .
His muscles tensed under my wandering hands and my fingers danced down his chest to his pelvis, where I stopped, freezing for a moment. My gaze found Erik; his eyes were closed and his head craned back, his breathing deep and full.
I grabbed his shirt by the collar and spread it apart, watching the diaphanous fabric slide gently from his shoulders and fall delicately onto the floor. His grip on me tightened while his head snapped up, capturing my lips in another kiss. His hand pressed against the back of my head as his lips overcame mine, his tongue pulsing in and out of my mouth until I moaned and I wrapped my arms around his back, digging my nails into the flesh. He hissed into my mouth, his hands moving down my back, and I whimpered as his searing flesh pressed against my spine. He began to fervently kiss my neck, nuzzling into me as his tongue and lips probed and covered every inch of its length in maddening indolence. He moaned as I grabbed his head, gasping from the touch of his tongue. When his hands reached the base of my back, he paused and he began to pull away, doubting himself.
I growled and lashed out my own tongue, leaving it to caress his teeth while my hands locked firmly on his waist. A terribly fierce desire caused a fire to ignite within me. A need to have him plunge inside of me and fill me completely caused twinges of pain that bordered on unbearable pleasure. And he wanted to shy away? Oh no, darling.
You will not doubt yourself when I want you so badly. I will make your uncertainties leave any way I can.
I brought his head against mine and kissed his face again and again, the unblemished and the scorned, moaning. I avoided kissing his lips, but made sure my tongue briefly caressed each part of his face as I kissed it.
His hands moved up my back, tantalizing my senses as he refused my lips the desire to join with his. My nails dug into his flesh and I couldn't help as slight moans of contentment escaped constantly from my mouth. It seemed to encourage him, however, for he gave a reassuring grunt that mimicked my pleasure.
Finally, he crushed his lips against mine as he slid down the shoulder straps to my top, the process purposefully moving at an achingly slow pace. I nuzzled against him as our tongues danced, urging him to rid me of such useless possessions as clothing. Breaking contact with my lips, he moved slowly down, his burning breath inducing gooseflesh. He kissed and lavished the area between my breasts and I bit my own lip, feeling ashamed, as I knew the peaks of my breasts stood in rapt attention and yearned to feel his ravishing mouth over them.
In a moment, he moved behind me and smiled. I was confused for a moment, but then I saw the mirrors that were in front of us. Immediately, I looked down, not wanting to see what had become of my body. I whimpered, fighting to keep myself from looking into my four reflections and seeing what horrors it had endured.
Erik's arms wrapped around my front; his touch was maddeningly light. His head was bowed as he planted wet, passionate kisses along my shoulders. I moved to turn around to him, but he stopped me and raised his head, looking at our reflection fondly.
"No, no. I want you to see something."
I shook my head, refusing to look at the length of my undoubtedly scarred body. I hid my face in his neck, losing myself in the smell of tantalizing spices that further added my desire to close my eyes. His voice came again, more demanding this time. "No. Look at us Nasrin. Look at what a beautiful picture we make."
I reluctantly opened my eyes and turned around to face my demons. The scars were indeed visible, and they striped across my chest in the same way Erik's lash scars did; what was more amusing to me was the fact that I looked completely overcome, and my eyes were cloudy as his eyes met mine. My deep breath filled my lungs and he obviously knew I enjoyed every simple sensation he gave me.
His fingers crept mischievously down from my shoulders, sneaking under the fabric of my top and moving until he fondled the clasp, knowing full well that my body screamed for a quick and passionate joining. Although, knowing him, he planned to torture me to the blink of madness until I wept; and in the end I knew that I would love that just as well. Slowly, he fiddled with it until it snapped and I saw the fabric loosen significantly around my front. His hands pressed gently against my yearning flesh, sliding the jeweled top from my back and I squirmed my arms out of it. Hissing, he kissed my neck, lavishing the already sensitive flesh with his tongue until I gasped and fell back against him, my eyes rolling back as he threw aside the garment carelessly.
"Putting on your clothes after bathing was the most superfluous thing you have done in a while, darling," he mumbled passionately in my ear. "However, your scent is still fresh from it, and it is unbearably intoxicating." His hands snaked around my front and his fingers dancing across my shaking chest. There was no way of preventing the countless moans that I made as his rough hands cupped my breasts, his touch barely registering in my nerves, yet the heat of his flesh intensely beating at my own burning skin.
"Erik . . . please . . ." I had no idea why I said that; I had no idea what I wanted except for more. Always more.
"Tell me what you want, Nasrin, and I will give it to you." His voice sent chills throughout my already overwhelmed body. "Tell me what you want."
My breath caught in my throat and I felt his glorious heartbeat against my back. I wanted his hands so badly to press against me, to smother me completely in insurmountable passion. I let my head fall against his shoulder and he gently pinched the peak of my breast. I jumped slightly at the carnal sensation that bloomed within me and I growled, biting his neck playfully and suckling on the sweet flesh furiously.
He smirked and I raised my head to him, noticing that his eyes were not cloudy as I saw mine to be. Rather, they were sharp and cognizant, and if I hadn't known of his gentleness, I would have been very frightened.
"Look at yourself in the mirror again, darling." I did, and saw the same reflection. Only this time, I looked far more submissive and my ragged breath and shaking legs told me that I pined for a pleasure he alone could give me. "Watch yourself, Nasrin. Look how you react to even the slightest touch of my hand." He began to stroke my breasts, his scorching breath further intensifying a wicked need in my gut as a serpent of pleasure twisted itself around my insides, each tightening a pleasantly painful sensation. I watched as my chest rose and fell in painful intimacy and I shifted from foot to foot.
In a moment, he blocked out the glass and stepped in front of me. I saw the thin patch of hair on his chest sparkle with sweat in the candlelight. I had believed that I would not enjoy the look or feel of this hair; however, its presence was most stimulating as it accented his own arousal by gleaming with his perspiration. I fell into his arms, wanting him to surround me in something as beautiful as him. As my hands moved down his torso, I slathered his chest with wet sucking kisses and his groans could only encourage me. I latched firmly on his nipple, moving my tongue around in provocative circles, teasing the nerves beneath; I was thankful for the knowledge of the man's arousal, for nothing was more stimulating than hearing him moaning from the pleasure I gave. As I moved up, I heard him snicker again and this time, I felt as though something beautifully unexplored laid in store.
While his one hand held fast to my back, his other hand began another slow journey down my body, fondling the area of my stomach under which the knot tightened. He pressed his cheek against mine as his right hand moved through the slit of my skirt and the pads of his fingers caressed the scars on the inside of my thigh. My erratic breath had taken the form of ragged gasps as the areas once stricken with anguish now felt the heat of intense, yet gentle pleasure.
It was embarrassing to say, and I had hoped Erik wouldn't be disgusted, but I felt strangely wet between my legs. I had noticed it as soon as he began his beautifully wicked administrations to my body. His fingers were drawing closer to it and I prayed he wouldn't recoil, too revolted to continue. I froze as his hand slowly dared to press against my budding womanhood and a sensation like nothing I had ever felt before caused me to convulse and crush my body against his farther. I gripped his shoulders and shook in his arms as his fingers probed deeper into me, both discovering and claiming me in the same moment. My whole body burned for him, and I let him know with every gasp, every moan, and every shiver.
The muttering of his name became an erotic prayer and when he kissed me this time, it was soft and sweet, though we shook from constraint. He took my bottom lip between his lips and massaged it gently, triggering warm sensations with each movement.
"Erik . . . please . . ." He snickered and brought his hand up to caress my face while still mercilessly exploring my inner depths with the other.
"Please what?" he remarked slyly, his breathing as ragged as mine. His fingers began to thrust inside of me and my body unconsciously moved against them. His thumb pressed against the sensitive bud and he began to rub it slowly to match the movements of his fingers. Stars danced in front of my eyes and my moans began to crescendo.
"Take me . . . oh Allah just take me." I felt like a wanton whore saying that, but I meant every syllable. I craved the sensations that would entail his arousal as opposed to his fingers driving into me.
Surprisingly, he pulled away completely and the air became cold and unfamiliar around me. I hated the way it felt.
"I . . . I can't yet. We're not even . . . in bed," he panted as he placed his hands on my bottom and pulled my longing body against him.
I gasped as I felt a bulge against my lower stomach, a bulge that wasn't quite so prominent before. Looking down, I found that something strained furiously against the fabric of his trousers. I hesitantly unbuckled his pants, my curiosity overpowering me. He tensed as I undid the last hindrance that kept our bodies apart. His trousers fell silently to the ground, pooling at his ankles.
Oh my . . .
I gaped. I had never seen a real naked man before; my only education was fabricated of pictures, flat, unreal pictures. Did I really cause such a passionate reaction? I . . . could my body possibly . . ?
"What is it, my Nasrin?" he asked, his lips against the top of my head. His breathing was shallow as I looked up at him, kissing him wordlessly, savoring his moist lips.
"Darling . . . I don't think my body could possibly accommodate-"
He laughed, a nervous, harsh sound. "Of course it can, my dear! You, as a female, were born to accommodate. To do it somewhat comfortably, however, you must be made to fit."
Made to accommodate . . . that implies force . . . I don't think force would have the desired effect on me, my love.
"How?" I asked hesitantly.
He shifted from one foot to another, and he began to shake again. "I . . . I have already, erm . . . begun the process." He showed me the wetness on his hand that I knew belonged to me as he moved to push me onto the bed.
However, he would not be denied the joyous pleasures I had so gluttonously received and my curiosity had only increased at the sight of his manhood. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed gently back.
"No wait," I muttered, standing him up again. "Wait, I want to . . ." I blushed coyly, looking down at his arousal. "May I?" My eyes met his; he was flushed bright crimson and he looked extremely uneasy.
"If . . . if you wanted . . . I won't . . . protest." He stammered and inched closer to me.
I looked down at . . . it. My hands reached out, and I hesitated at first, feeling my nerves beat at the fire that raged within me. However, I simply smiled and touched it gently with one finger. I was amazed at the softness of the skin, and upon my caress, the steel-infused muscles beneath his skin tightened immediately. It was a fascinating process. I would tease him with my touch, and his breath would shorten while his muscles tightened spasmodically. It was a beautiful sequence and I felt so wickedly powerful, being able to render such a profound man helpless against my hands. My touch became slightly more daring and he hissed and moaned, low and deep. My others fingers joined the first, moving slowly around him. I was in awe that the skin was so soft, so delicate, yet the structure itself was hard and swollen; I eagerly stepped closer to him. His breath sharpened and his moans grew louder and longer as I quickened my pace around him.
"Stop!" he bellowed and I thought I had hurt him. I leaped away from him, my hands retreating to my side. However he grabbed me around my back and pulled me to him, a burning radiance in his eyes. With delicate force he eased me onto the bed. I moved up to kiss him, but he stopped me.
"No, it is your turn." He kissed my neck hungrily, and his hardness pressed against my thighs. I felt the knot tighten inside of me and I wanted him to simply plunge into me, know that he and I were one in every way. However, his lips had just begun their journey. His lips lingered on my neck and I groaned. For a while, and he planted wet, sucking kisses along the length of it before sliding mischievously down, his lips kissing every inch of me they brushed. He kissed my breast, his lips on the peak while his tongue moved around in powerful circles. I bit my lip and moaned. He bit the sensitive flesh and I arched my back to him. More . . . my instincts screamed . . . more . . .
As if to answer my inner calling, Erik began suckling on it furiously until I felt I would burst. I held his head in place, wrapped my leg around his back and pulled him to me, moaning for him. Just when he released one, I felt as though he would relieve me. However, he slid slowly over and gave the same treatment to the other one; the torture grew worse as he continued his torturous play, and the knot grew tighter and tighter. I was at the point of almost screaming as my constant moaning of his names rose in a strangled crescendo.
I hadn't dreamed it would be so . . . wonderful. So painfully wonderful.
His trek went down once more and his tongue moved purposefully over my skin, working around in my navel for a few moments, his hands cupped under my back and pulling my body against his lips. I had expected him to move back up, slowly claiming each part of my chest with his mouth. However, he moved down again, and I looked at him questioningly. He hesitated over the 'L' scar on my waist before kissing it as well, lavishing it with his tongue. My breath caught in my throat and I tightly gripped a chunk of his hair.
He quickly moved down, and before I could protest, he kissed the part of me that had been so brutally destroyed: the part I had never dreamed could ever feel pleasure. I clenched my teeth and gripped fast to the sheets, fighting screaming out his name as my head fell back against the pillow. I couldn't breathe as the knot reached the point of intense pain. Still he moved his tongue and lips against me, his own body shaking as he fought against his own release.
Suddenly, I felt it; I felt the knot begin to tighten to the point of breaking. I stopped breathing for a moment, my head sinking deep in the pillow. Erik's powerful tongue lashed out against the bundle of nerves in my femininity; the knot snapped in a huge explosion. I screamed as a rainbow of vibrant colors exploded before my eyes. I began to shake, though my mind felt separated from my body and my eyes closed as I panted. As I slowly regained myself, I felt him kiss up the center of my torso slowly. I knew he was unable to fathom the profound awakening he had given to me.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Erik's face hovering beautifully over mine, his bright blue eyes sparkling as I smiled weakly up at him. I pulled him down to me and kissed him with everything I was; I could taste myself in his mouth. I shivered as he opened my legs farther, fitting himself between my thighs and running his hands up and down my legs.
Oh Allah, the knot was returning.
I looked up at him, waiting for him to finally join us, but he seemed to be torn between continuing our erotic foreplay or allowing us both to release together, binding us forever. I eagerly flipped him on his back and straddled him, smiling at the look of utter shock on his face. I laid down on him, slowly kissing his chest and moving downward. He began to shake again, his fists tight around the sheets, his knuckles snow-capped mountains. I growled against his flesh, biting gently on the skin I kissed and tasted.
Just as I reached the thin trail of hair below his navel, he grabbed me and pinned me right back where I was underneath him. I looked up at him, in shock at the haste of his movements. He was flushed scarlet, his face sweaty and a fire of nothing less than fervent determination in his eyes.
"Nasrin . . . I can't . . . restrain . . ." He panted and gasped while I obediently opened my legs. He fitted himself between my thighs and looked up at me one more time. I smiled at him and he slid slowly into me until he was completely enclosed. I arched my back, moaning his name as he moved over me, gripping tight to the sheets by my head.
Slowly, he began to move against me, beginning a beautiful rocking motion as old as time itself. He was undoubtedly nervous, but he slowly gained speed and confidence until he was thrusting hard and deep. The knot was tightening and the familiarity of it all was incredible. I looked up at him, amazed at how the muscles beneath his skin contorted with each thrust. As I gazed up at his face, I found that his head had fallen limp so that I could only see his mouth during his thrusts, which was hanging open as he panted in ragged breaths. Faster and faster he moved, and I felt as though I was quivering with unused energy. I fervidly kissed him, yearning for another release as his movements became sharper. By the time I drew away, our lips were bitten bloody.
No longer was I tortured by memories of Jean, for Erik moved differently than him. His power was the same, yet he remained gentle. I focused on nothing more than the man above me: my husband and my only love, driving himself deeper into me.
Suddenly he stopped above me, quivering and panting, moaning loudly. I could feel it; the time drew nearer. The inevitable was drawing tantalizingly close. He pulled himself out completely and I roared at him, hating him for ending our union prematurely. However, he reared back and drove himself into me one final time. He pulsated inside of me for a few eternity drawn moments before I shattered once again as he bellowed loudly, his last barricade of control crumbling. He filled me completely and I responded by sinking my teeth hard into his shoulder. Lovely tears blurred my sight. When I pulled away, I had drawn a small trickle of blood from his flesh. I began to cry, completely overcome with the beauty of what we had done.
"Oh God! Nasrin, I'm so sorry! I was too rough! I hurt you!" he cried breathlessly, bullets of sweat trickling from his hair. He looked crestfallen as I opened my eyes. His cheeks were still flushed and he fought collapsing on me.
"No! No, you didn't hurt me. I'm all right . . ." I paused to pant for a moment, running my fingers through his sweaty locks of hair; he nuzzled shakily into my touch. "You were so wonderful, Erik. I love you so much," I responded hoarsely, my legs still shaking intensely as I wept. I hung my head, feeling as though I was nothing more than a sniveling child. He wiped away my tears, pressing his forehead against mine. I clutched his body to mine, pressing my lips against the top of his head, wanting to bless him and absolve him from any past wrong doings. He rested his head on my heaving chest, his breath as erratic as mine.
"Here, be still," Erik muttered gutturally as he moved off me for a moment to grab something by his bedside. My eyes followed him, gleaming with curiosity. He held a small knife in his hands and raised it above me. I tensed and whimpered. What was he going to do? His expression softened and he touched my chastity beads, his fingers running across the wood.
"Easy, my love. Didn't I tell you that I would never hurt you?" he cooed, and, with unsurpassed finesse and tact, he cut the string that held his chastity beads to my waist. I eased up and slid the string of beads from under me, feeling as though a lifetime of solitude, pain, and loneliness ended in that one swipe of a blade.
"Finish it," I implored softly, grabbing his hand with the knife. For a moment he looked confused. However, when he saw my hand guide his toward the 'L' scar, he understood.
"But Nasrin, I promised not to hurt you," he mumbled.
"If you leave this scar as an L, I will hurt every day for the rest of my life." I looked at him and he smiled; it was a beautiful sight. He lowered the knife to my flesh and gently pressed the blade down through it. There was distinct searing pain, and I felt blood ooze from the cut. Then, it was done, and all I felt was Erik's lips press against my new wound, which would scar to be forever a testament to the world that Erik held my heart and body.
He kissed me lovingly, pushing against me; his jaw muscles worked against mine and suddenly, I knew it. He smelled of blood, for his lips and shoulder still dribbled fresh drops of it. And the wooden chastity beads he had handled, their scent was fresh in his hands. I cried in his mouth; it had been him in my dream all along. Allah did truly work in mysterious ways. I responded to him, kissing him passionately, eager for much more than a kiss, but he shook with lethargy and collapsed on top of me, his face resting next to mine. He managed to roll off me and lay beside me as his head sunk into the pillow so that only his deformity was visible. How beautiful he was.
"Aren't . . . you glad . . . that I am . . . the romantic . . . you surmised?" he wheezed.
Oh my only love . . . if you only knew how glad.
I smiled, seeing the tears dripping from his eyes as well. I snuggled up to him, pressing and molding my body against his. We were a perfect fit. I sighed and kissed his face affectionately. I tasted his salty tears, fabricated of the same happiness mine were.
"Yes, darling . . . I am."
Contented, and feeling Erik's arms wrap around me, I fell into the most beautiful of slumbers, knowing for once that I was Erik's wife in every way.
xXxXx
Part Three: The Sedating of the Monster and the Beast
Erik's POV:
I had never imagined . . . even in my wildest dreams that I would ever come to think of Nasrin as anything more than a pesky little girl. I would have scoffed if I saw myself now, holding her in my arms thus, without a stitch of clothing between us. I would have laughed if I knew that I would have risked death just to hold her again. I would have been ashamed if I knew that she had been the one to tear down my persona of heartlessness by a torrent of her own tears and pain . . . and her love . . . I could never forget that.
And yet, there was no shame now . . . and she lay safely in my arms, dreaming without a care, trusting the most horrid monster with her fragile self. However, last night, I had felt as though I was anything but a monster. Growing up hated and scorned, I never imagined that my touch could trigger anything other than pain. Nasrin had shown me that I was truly a man, and that I could cause and feel as much pleasure as any normal person. I was truly no different, and mutual love had been the only thing that could have shown me. The feeling of utter completion during our union was strikingly touching, and I found myself with tears as well; though Nasrin wept fully, for she had darker scars to erase. I could still hear her words of reassurance: You were so wonderful Erik. I love you so much . . . Just those two sentences had sedated the monster in me forever, and I knew that I would pledge my heart and soul to that 'pesky little girl' forever.
I looked down at her snuggled up to me, her body housing an ethereal luminescence given off by the candles. What a beautiful woman she had become, I mused to myself.
Last night, halfway through our fervid joining, she had done something that took me by surprise. She had slipped from speaking French, and had reverted back to Farsi, her original tongue. I spoke Farsi, of course, with Nadir and I knew it myself, but I had never heard it spoken the way she had done it. The way her words had just simply poured from her tongue and took wing to caress my ears. Simply her speaking it beautified her native language.
I looked down at her again, unable to lessen the smile that stretched my face. An innocent smile twitched at the corners of her mouth and her eyes remained closed; she seemed to exude an aura of sweet serenity. I leaned down and kissed her eyes gently, feeling her eyelids twitch under the pressure. Fearing I had awakened her, I raised my head. Instead, she gripped tighter to me, sighing into my chest.
Next to me slept the woman who had caused me more anguish and anger than anyone before her. She had deceived me, seduced me, and tortured me in ways only a man could feel. Yet she had held in my time of tears, protected me in the face of death with her own life, and loved me unconditionally and completely, even in my most hateful moments.
And I . . .
I loved her . . .
By God . . . I loved her so much.
The Vicomte could take that heathen of an angel. I had my fair Nasrin . . . and I would not forsake her for any music in the world.
My words of love had burned inside of me from the moment she swung on the chandelier, almost losing her life to assist me, yet I found myself unable to express it for so long.
I touched her cheek, allowing my fingers to move slowly down her shoulder to her hands, which lay in chaste modesty over her breasts. My hands traced down her side, along the dipping curve of her waist. I felt pulsing desire begin to ache in my gut as I dwelled on the previous night.
The sounds she had made between religious mutterings of my name were by far the most erotic music I had ever heard. I wanted to have her make such a melody again. She had given me my first sensation of being inside a woman, to feel as though I had her in every way: body, mind, heart, and soul. She had touched me, and savored me in the same way I had savored her. When she bit me I had convulsed; her teeth had blurred together the sensations of pain and pleasure.
Overcome with my own memories, I kissed her, startling her at first to the point where she squealed in my mouth. I pulled away and the moment our eyes met, she smiled, knowing exactly why I had awakened her. I rolled her on her back and fitted myself between her legs.
"Once more," I said huskily.
To my surprise, Nasrin pushed me up, rolled me on my back and straddled me, a look of divine mischief in her eyes.
"Only once more?" she asked softly, digging her nails into the sheets, lying down and pulling herself up to me, her soft skin causing sensual friction between us. She kissed me, starting soft and sweet until all tenderness was gone and we were devouring each other's mouths. Her slender fingers traced around the small patches of hair on my chest.
She immediately pulled away, her beautiful blue-green eyes twinkling. "Now," she said, "you must make a deal with me."
"What type of deal?" I asked.
"You must promise me that right now, you will not touch me in any way. You will not kiss me, you will not give me any pleasure."
What?
"Why not?" I asked, rather offended. Did she regret what we had done?
"Because I insist on now being the time of how I please you. That was, after all, why I was brought here." She kissed my chest and looked back up at me, waiting my answer,
"But . . . don't you want to feel . . ."
"I will if you feel it. Promise?" She stroked my deformity.
"Only if you promise me that later, it will be you that is in this position," I insisted. Lovemaking was a union of bodies, each one feeling the same amount of pleasure and passion. What will this different encounter bring?
She smiled warmly, licking her lips and looking at me sideways, her eyes seductively calling to me. "All right. If that is truly what you want."
"Nasrin, I was denied any compassion from a woman for a long time. Now that I have you, I want to savor each inch of you." I ran my fingers over her head, my senses now enjoying the feeling of the uneven crevices in her scalp. She trembled and opened her eyes, and I could see the sparkle of love in her eyes that warmed me immediately. I would never grow tired of looking into those two sea born orbs.
"Very well, your touch is always welcome," she cooed, her lips curling into the smirk that made me weak inside. She moved off the bed for a moment and grabbed two silk red scarves, rubbing them on my chest. The cloth was arousingly smooth and I shivered. Surprisingly, she grabbed my wrist and pushed it back against the headboard, tying it into a tight knot. As I moved my arm, it tightened and I couldn't move it more than a few inches. She smiled at me.
"If I am to give you the pleasure you want, you cannot touch me. I can only ensure that with these scarves. Forgive me if you do not like them, but you will not be able to control yourself." My other wrist was tied to the headboard, leaving me sprawled out in a ridiculous display of susceptibility. I've always hated being vulnerable, not having complete control over my surroundings. How could she give me pleasure if I despised the position in which I was this helpless?
"Must you bind me?"
"Could you stand not touching me if I were to touch you right now?" she asked, her voice alluringly soft. She knew the answer; I didn't have to speak.
I was on the verge of making a jest when she tilted my head back, breathing against my neck before kissing it; it was not the same as last night. Last night was more uncertain, reserved, and nervous. This time, her lips moved confidently over the expanse of my neck, her breath sending chills up my spine. Such scorned flesh I never imagined could feel so blessed. She moved up and bit on my lower lip, her tongue brushing powerfully against the area under my lips. I felt a distinct twinge in my groin as unexpected pleasure bloomed intensely from that singular sensation. More . . . my body craved more. I strained against the bonds, wanting to hold her, but the scarves only tightened and I groaned in exasperation.
Her journey pulled her down over my chest, the dark gold of her skin gleaming divinely in the dim lights. Her mouth covered every part of it, showering it with her arousing touch and her provocative kisses that made my blood roar. She moved up again and I almost lost control. She sucked on my flat nipple, working her tongue around the edges. Such torture was both painful and wonderful at once. I had never known what such beautiful feelings could blossom from such love.
Just the prospect that I couldn't touch her made me want her even more. I wanted to pin her underneath me and love ever fiber of her being with my hands and mouth. I shivered as her body slid down even more, allowing most of my torso to bear the brunt of the cold climate in our home.
There was a pause and I noticed with silent hesitancy that no part of her touched me anymore. I was about to look down when I felt her kiss up the inside of my thighs, biting gently as the skin became softer, more sensitive. She kneaded her knuckles underneath my sex and the twinge grew to become an unbearable burn as my body reacted strongly to her movements. I strained against the bonds, my inability to reach her both increasing the pleasure and driving me mad.
Then, in the most stimulating movement, she slowly took me in her mouth. My arms fought hard against the scarves, but eventually, I gave in as I felt my blood surge tempestuously in my veins. Shaking, I clenched my teeth shut and moaned as my breath quickened.
I can't touch her! I can't touch her! my mind bellowed as she moved her head against me the way I had against her the previous night; it was enough to make me lose all control and cut our union woefully short. Her fingers joined with her mouth, skating along my sex and under me, her grip preventing my release but intensifying the almost unbearable torture. She had complete control over my pleasure, my release; I had long since surrendered myself to her desire. I gasped as her movements quickened. Stars danced evasively in front of my eyes and I moaned, unable to hide my ecstasy.
Just as suddenly as she had started, she stopped, leaving me breathlessly withholding my release. I heard her voice, shaky and hoarse.
"Stay still." I remained motionless, closing my eyes, awaiting the next erotic encounter.
I felt her move forward, and, in an action I hadn't anticipated, took me inside of her by lowering herself slowly on me. We both let out a unanimous gasp, followed by a series of ragged breaths. She put her hands on my chest, balancing herself, while her legs splayed like a frogs on either side of me. In a quick burst of movement, she began to move her torso in the sequence that had driven me mad. Her hips thrust out, causing friction between our loins and pulled them back, moving her hips in a rocking motion I had used on her. My groin burned and I fought against my urge to release; I would wait. I didn't want this to end so quickly.
"Erik?" came her voice, shaky and longing.
"Yes?" I answered, looking up at her. Her back was contorting in amazing swooping motions while her shoulders tensed and her head fell limply forward.
"Sit up," she commanded, removing her hands from my chest and untying my hands. I obeyed her command and quickly wrapped my arms around her. Her movements began to quicken and my head pounded as I yearned to release this pent up energy that prowled like a feral beast in the pit of my gut. I kissed her neck hungrily, relishing the moan she made as my tongue lashed out against her flesh. She tensed and her moans grew louder, her groans thus increasing my arousal. Her stomach struck against mine again and again and I moved my head up to the top of her neck, biting tenderly against her sweet skin.
Suddenly, my grip tightened and I began to shake as the burning sensation reached its erupting point. I gritted my teeth and roared as I allowed myself, finally, the pleasure of releasing. Nasrin cried out, clutching fast to me and throwing her head back. I looked up at her. Her chest rose and fell as she shook in the safety of my arms. I embraced her and kissed her chest, moaning as my body fought for every last bit of release.
She fell limp like a doll in my arms, allowing me the pleasure of doing with her what I wished. I simply laid her down beside me and pulled myself from inside of her. Her eyes slowly opened and her gaze fell on me; she smiled, the scarves crumpled in her hands.
"Did I please you well enough?"
My God Nasrin . . . what a question.
I reclined beside her and caressed her cheek, which tightened as she smiled.
"My God Nasrin . . . what a question." I answered as my conscience did, kissing her and laughing breathlessly.
She put the scarves aside, and I quickly took them up in my hands, dangling them in front of her eyes. She looked up at me in confusion.
"What?"
"Well, you know what they say, love?"
"What do they say? I am unfamiliar." She smiled up at me, already knowing what I was to say.
"Turnabout is fair play. Tomorrow, I'll need these." I laughed, anxiously awaiting the time when I had complete control over her; I knew she would surrender as I did.
She joined my laughter, weakly, but as sweetly as she could manage. I embraced her and lay my head on hers, too happy to sleep. She kissed my neck and I growled playfully, nipping her ear. My Nasrin smiled and growled back. She was too weak for lovemaking, but still retaining her vigor that would always astound me.
My Nasrin, I thought as I watched her slip into light slumber. If I am to spend the rest of my life with you, like this, perhaps God has not forsaken me after all.
Thanks to all my reviewers! Each one of you deserves . . . something of insane grandeur! (claps)
VictorianDream: XD! I know, but I'm sure you were with him in spirit, no? Now cutting off my hands would not be good, because then I could not update. And that would not be yay at all for those who don't know the ending. And I won't call them, I know how it feels to be frantic, LOL. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
tink8812: (gives tissues) Thank you very much. And yes, Nasrin does pretty much have PTSD. Poor thing. Hm, the crossover sounds really cool. If your pondering the singing dishes, lemme know a bit of the plot and I can try to help you out. (They would be very good for comic relief . . . if you plan on doing some humor.) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
GerrysISUChick04: LOL, I know. Well, she knows now, so we're all good. Thanks, vaca was pretty cool, though working is a black cloud over me at the moment (spites it). And you are very welcome for the hug. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Norma Jean the Dancing Machine: Aww, thank you. (gives tissues just in case) XD! Even in death, we mock Jean. (And there is NOTHING wrong with that!) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: Soon to be over? Well, we'll just see about that. And here is another long chappy for you. YAY! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Natsuki: XD! It's ok poozle, I know it's you. Kinda scared Nadir with the ghetto talk, didn't you? XD! How delightfully amusing! Well, no need to keep hush hush about it anymore. So . . . YAY! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
The Psychotic One: (blink) Suzaku? OMG I HEART HIM SO MUCH! (My true preference has been and probably will always be Yoko Kurama, probably just because of . . . everything.) But Suzaku is up there with Hiei and Shuichi (though he is in essence Yoko, w/e) (giggle)
Erik: This is MY fanfic, not Yu Yu Hakusho's!
Shade: (flushes) sorry, just it's nice to see/ hear/ read from a fellow YYH fan. And as for my writing? I have a writing mentor I see every other week. I go to writing camps as well as write my own novels that are not fanfics. If you just work at it, you can do it, I'm sure. Not to mention there are a lot of other writers more talented than me on this site, so I learn from their different techniques as well. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Ali: Good, I'm glad. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Jen Lennon: (dances with you) I know. About time, right? Well thanks! I return now, so YAY! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Dragon-mage16: I hope this passion satiates you, lol. You have been very paitent and I thank you for it. Clowns? O.O Clowns scare the HELL outta me. (sucks thumb) (shivers) I do not like them at all. That is the best death plot of doom for me. Even better for Christine! MWAHA! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Mademoiselle Justicia: XD! I know, this chapter had a lot of mixed emotions in it. It was intense, lol. Exhausting on the writer, let's just say that. Thank you very much! (bows) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
LadyOfLegends: I would too Sunbeam, I would too. (becomes envious of Nasrin) (even though that doesn't make sense) Anyway, DON'T DIE! I UPDATE, SEE? (glomps) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Videociraptor: XD! The mutilation thing was yay, but certainly NEVER cute. Ew. And Erik enjoyed the bone, LOL. About time Erik was nice, huh? HE HAS A HEART LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! BEHOLD!
Erik: Shut up.
Shade: (nervous laughter) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
harem98: OMG, I am envious of your cake! (requests it for her own birthday) So tell me, how was your time with Erik? Did he behave? XD! And more E/N love cometh! (is excited) Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Corpse x Bride: Yeah, he's great. I must see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory again . . . and again . . . and again . . . and I am DYING for Corpse Bride to come out. I want to see it SO badly. He is very darkly talented, it's incredible. And please, take an axe to Jean's body . . . PLEASE! I need more Jean-bashing amusement. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Jessie: XD! Jean has no hope of coming out of hell now, all the times he's been damned. LOL, thanks. Yay things are . . . well . . . yay. Thanks for the review and here is your update!
Charity: Wow, kewl! I feel special when people tell me that, thanks! And yes, kisses are nicer. Perhaps I shall save that prize for the end. Moo. HA! Thanks for the review and here is your update!
GerrysJackie: Thank you very much. I totally agree with the Erik thing. And he needed to be tender; not even a monster would be completely apathetic in a situation like that. It was difficult to write, however, it was not a bad turnout, methinks. So YAY! Thanks for the review and here is your update!