To my amazing readers –

I regret to inform you that this story is nearly finished. That is, this is the second-to-last installment (I believe). Writing this story has been a pleasure for me and I will be so sad to see it go. I thank you tremendously and…oh, hell with it. I'll say my goodbyes next chapter.  -NSLJ

Warning – sexual situations (non-explicit)

Chapter Twenty-Nine – So Close and Yet so Far

Persia 1875

Erik's lips are worn but soft as I touch them with my own, and the kiss sends a fire through my veins, and the feeling I'd had when I first pleasured Hamir returns, the lightheadedness, the wetness…

I am distracted from my thoughts as Erik pulls away slightly, breaking the intimate contact of our lips. His breath tickles the sensitive skin of my face, warm and fast. I realize that my hands are still on his face and mask, and I move to take them away when Erik places his own over mine. Without a word, he runs his hands down from mine, across my arms and mimics my position, his weathered palms cradling my small face.

My breath hitches in my throat as Erik presses his lips against my own, not hiding his ardor. I move my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, trying to gain further contact that my desire wills me to take. Shivers run through my body as I feel Erik's hands on my waist, my feet leaving the ground to cover the difference between our heights.

Sighing slightly, I open my mouth almost subconsciously, and soon Erik's tongue and my own are entwined in their own dance of passion. However, the combined force of our fevered kissing and my weight, though not much, leads Erik to try and place me on the floor again.

Not wanting to be let down, I lose all sense of dignity by wrapping my legs around Erik's waist to keep me away from the floor, my skirt hiking up around my hips. I slide a bit from the downward momentum and feel the growing hardness of Erik's manhood beneath my thigh. He groans into my mouth and holds me closer, pressing my small frame against his much larger one.

Tangled together, locked by legs, arms, and lips, Erik and I stumble into the house and Erik somehow finds his way into his room on the ground floor, still holding me around him like a blanket. Erik disengages one arm from around my body and closes the door near-silently, then walks briskly over to his low-lying bed, laying me upon it then lowering himself down beside me.

I reach a hand out and touch his masked cheek, running my fingers along the white porcelain. "Take it off," I say, trying to sound calm but my voice dark with passion. I watch Erik's facial expressions as he ponders my request. Then, he lifts my fingers to the edge of his shield, his source of protection, and nods. Gently I pry it away from his face and toss it on the floor.

Immediately he moves, of instinct, to cover his face, but I lean forward and push his hands out of the way, pressing my lips to the distorted flesh. I run my fingers through his hair, noticing that he still wears a hairpiece, but ignoring it completely. As I kiss his face, Erik rolls himself over, pinning me to the mattress, ever the one to dominate. "Christine," he says, his voice husky, and I discontinue my ministrations. "Christine, why are you letting me do this?"

"Letting you do what?" I reply, knowing perfectly well what.

"Christine, I can't do to you what that…that beast did to you. I'll never let myself be compared to him." Moving myself slightly, I crane my neck upward and kiss him, gently at first and then growing in intensity, but Erik pulls away. "What are you doing, Christine? I can't…"

"Hush," I say, running my hands along his cheeks and down his shoulders and arms. "I know what I am doing, Erik, and you will never be like him." I kiss him again, pressing my tongue against his lips, begging entrance which he grants willingly. Soon, he pulls away again, this time to tug his shirt from his trousers and pull the soft white fabric over his head, then toss it on the floor.

Erik props himself up above me once again, kissing my lips and holding me tightly, slowly untying the laces on the back of my dress. I feel the hateful garment come loose and it is only seconds before it joins Erik's shirt on the floor. A feverish web of arms and legs and bodies, Erik lets me roll on top of him, straddling his hips, feeling him beneath me once again.

Tentatively, I run my hands from his face down his neck to the broad expanse of chest, sweating slightly and spattered with little bits of dark hair, across his torso and navel to the waist of his pants. Swallowing hard, forcing the image of Hamir out of my mind, I shift myself lower on his legs and unlace the thin leather ties holding Erik's trousers closed at the top.

When the last lace comes undone, I move the fabric down over his hips and thighs and he kicks them off with his own bare feet. Feeling a wave of uneasiness wash over me at the thought of doing what I had done to Hamir, I move up to kiss Erik again when he pulls my body beneath his, now fully bare of clothing.

"This is a little unfair," he says seductively, nipping at my earlobe then trailing hot kisses along my neck and shoulder, moving aside the strap of my camisole. "You seem to have on quite a lot of clothing and I have none." I jump a little as Erik's hands reach the bottom of my camisole and tear it cleanly in two, and I wriggle out of the remains of the undergarment.

It hits me that my upper half is unclothed, bare to Erik's roaming gaze, and I shift my arms, trying to cover myself. Erik runs a gentle hand across my cheek. "No hiding, mon amour." Erik bends forward and kisses me gently, and I feel the mangled side of his face rubbing against mine, but I ignore it. Erik slowly moves his hands down the sides of my body, reaching the waistband of my undergarments and hesitating. When I do not resist, he slowly pulls them down and off my long dancer's legs.

I can't help but cry, anxiety and fear hitting me for the first time, and Erik takes notice, gathering me in his arms and seating me on his lap as best he can. "Hush, mon ange, please don't cry," Erik murmurs, stroking my hair. "We do not have to do this if you don't…"

"Just get it over with, Erik," I whimper, burying my face in his shoulder. "Have me and be done with it."

"No!" he replies, moving me away a little so he can look into my eyes. "Christine, it's not supposed to be like that. Nothing should ever be that way, Christine. This is a decision we will make together," Erik continues, pulling me to him again. "I understand that this is traumatic for you, and I am not going to make you go through with anything you don't want to."

I throw my arms around him, holding myself to him, and cry softly, "Thank you, Erik." We sit there like that for a long time, just enjoying the closeness, holding one another.

"Christine," Erik says after quite some time, "this isn't much later, of course, but, if you are willing, I am ready to discuss with you why…" I place a finger over his lips to silence him. I lovingly run my hands down both his cheeks and around his neck, pulling him to me and kissing him passionately.

"Erik, I could not wait to tell you that…" I pause briefly, gathering my strength but knowing that I won't be able to say it. Swallowing hard, I choke out, "I love you." I see the surprise in his eyes as I speak and he opens his mouth to respond but I stop him. "I never meant to let you out of my life, Erik, but I had to go to the priest that day because I loved you and I couldn't ruin my marriage. Erik, you didn't have to come after me and you didn't have to treat me well and you didn't have to…" He silences me with a quick but tender kiss.

"Yes, Christine, I had to."

Later…

For the rest of the night, we simply lie close to one another, touching ever so gently, feeling the pace of each other's breathing, the fingers of our right hands entwined. I, however, cannot sleep. My head rests on Erik's chest and his head is right against my own as he sleeps, the disfigured side of his face rubbing against mine when he shifts position.

I wriggle around, trying to get comfortable, but no position seems to offer me sleep. After trying multiple times to fall asleep, my efforts rouse Erik from his deep slumber. "Can you not sleep, mon amour?" he asks me, running a hand through my hair. "What troubles you?"

"I'm not sure exactly," I reply truthfully, curling up closer to Erik, needing the sensation of his body against mine. "I suppose I'm just afraid of what will happen after tonight, and that everything will change once we decide to go back to Paris."

"Who said we had to go straight back?" he answers me, caressing my shoulders and arms.

"You mean…" I say, flipping over and looking down at Erik.

"We could see the world, travel all over," Erik suggests, running his hands soothingly down my back. "There is nothing to stop us."

"I've always wanted to see Rome…" I trail off, but Erik counters me quickly.

"Then we will go to Rome." Kissing him gently, I lie back down and Erik takes me in his arms, whispering to me. "We can go to all of Europe, Christine, ride in Tuscany, dance in Madrid, see shows in London. The future is ours, Christine; you will only live once." As he speaks, I think back on his words from years ago. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before...

"Sing to me," I say determinedly. "Sing me the song from the night of Hannibal." I close my eyes as Erik clears his throat and begins to sing. The beautiful rich baritone of his voice soothes me and calms me, and it takes me a few moments to realize that his hands have started their slow, torturous journey around me, touching every part of me, marking me in a way that sexual contact could not; it marks me with love, not lust.

His singing finally ceases, and he runs a finger along my jaw, making me turn my head, and he captures my mouth with his in a sensual and electrifying kiss. When we break apart, I ask him softly, "Do you think we'll be like this forever?

"Like what?" Erik replies, kissing me again.

"Happy," I suggest, followed by a quick brush of lips. "Content," another kiss. "In love?" As I crane my neck to kiss Erik again, he pulls away and I look at him with confusion.

"We will certainly be in love for always, Christine, and so long as we are in love, everything else will fall into place." He concludes his romantic statement with the most deep and moving kiss of all, and I find myself agreeing; love cannot solve everything, but it can make most worth one's while.

Erik

Dear Antoinette,

I must sincerely apologize for not contacting you these last few months. It was most rude of me and I did not mean to worry you with my negligence.

Christine is safe and sound, and she is sleeping contentedly as I write. There is much about what has gone on here in Persia that is better saved for a later date, but she is without harm, for the most part, and is in no further danger. I intend to ask her for her hand in due time, and it is my understanding that she has talked of saying yes.

I regret to inform you that we will not be returning to Paris immediately. We have jointly decided to travel while we are both willing and able, and will be leaving Persia within two weeks. Where to? I do not know, but it will be an adventure nonetheless.

In due time we will come back to France, I am sure, and when we do I will send you advance warning. All I can ask is that you keep this letter to yourself; the time will come to alert Meg and Gaston of goings-on. As it stands, I have not informed Christine of my writing to you, and I wish to keep it that way. Things could only be complicated by others knowing.

And so, I must say farewell for now. We will see each other again.

-Erik Garnier