A/N: Hello all. Once again, this chapter contains sexual material, though not explicit. If this type of material offends you, please skip over this chapter and tune in for the next. Also, I feel it is my duty to inform you all that this story is nearing its end, but don't worry; I am currently working on a new story based upon lovely Leroux. That being said, on with the chap.

Chapter Sixteen

Oh, Christine.

I feel you stirring; it is the middle of the night. You are partially atop me still; even in your sleep, you do not part from me.

You look up at me and offer a sleepy, though overall pleased smile. "Hello, Erik."

You are beautiful. Your smile is beautiful. The way you say my name is beautiful.

"My love," I greet you in return, and your face lights up as you lean up to press a kiss to my lips.

The nature of the kiss is deviated, however, when we both simultaneously decide to thrust our tongues into the other's mouth, immediately changing the kiss from light and innocent, to dark and passionate.

And yet, we still are innocent, even in our passion. We have not yet had our fill of this; it is merely our first taste. Perhaps that is why we both crave it so.

My hand slips between us to gently cup your breast.

"Erik!" you cry, your hips jumping toward mine, your back arching into me, causing your breast to be held more firmly in my hand.

I smile slightly, and lean my head down to kiss your shoulder.

"Erik. . ." you breathe as my hand snakes down to gently stroke your inner thigh.

"Will you ever tire of this, Christine?" I ask you, whispering into your ear.

"No," you manage, moving your hand to mimic my actions, "never."

"Good."

I move my hand so it brushes past your now wet opening, and you release a shrill cry, forcing my hand back to where it was.

I insert one finger, than another, into you; you gasp in shock — I can just hear you thinking, "Do people do this. . .?" — then release a moan.

You roll off me, so you are on your back, my fingers still within you. Your hips buckle impatiently against my hand. "Erik?" you ask, obviously attempting to sound mellow, but instead my name comes in a shrilly urgent tone.

"Yes?" I ask lazily.

"Are you going to. . . do anything?" You look quite fearful indeed that my answer will be no.

I suppress laughter as I begin to move my fingers within you; you accept them as if they were my length, rolling your hips. I lean down my head and taste your exquisite essence.

"Erik! Do it again!" you cry, raking your fingers through my hair.

I obey, as I feel myself grow harder.

"Erik," you moan again, "I feel. . . something is pending. . ."

A smirk comes to my lips as I slide my fingers out of you, and take in the expression of dull horror on your beautiful face.

Not to worry, I tell you silently as I replace my digits with my swollen desire. A delighted expression overtakes your features, and in only a few thrusts, we both come.

Your body shakes with the intensity of the release, and you hold me against you tightly, kissing my shoulder, as your hands gently caress my back.

"Erik. . ." you whisper again and again, an impossible amount of love in your tone.

I kiss your lips, and slowly slip out of you, settling down on the bed once more. You seem to automatically move into my embrace, and my arms weave around your small, warm body.

"Will we ever leave this bed?" you asked quietly, your lips brushing against the skin of my chest.

I surprise myself by laughing, and apparently, I surprise you, as well, as you look up at me, a smile on your lips. You have never heard me laugh before.

"Whenever you wish to, my Christine. Whatever you wish."