Hope you liked the wedding as much as I enjoyed writing it! What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic! And after a wedding comes a...? Explicit chapter people! If you're underage, or not comfortable in reading, you can continue the story without this chapter, so don't worry! -x- Lotte.

Hours later the Palazzo had gone rather quiet. The last of the wine was being finished as some of the servants started clearing the tables. It had felt like a family feast, no distinction between master and servants. Céline had of course fallen asleep in no time with a happy smile on her angelic face. Nicole had tried to explain to her that the wedding was like the union between the beautiful princes and princesses in her fairy tales and she seemed very content in the prospect of seeing her maman and papa live together happily ever after.

"Will maman have also a baby now?" She had asked the question in complete innocence, seeming to recall the princesses of her storybooks always seemed to marry first and then suddenly had babies, but she had left Erik completely baffled.

"Would you like to have a little brother or sister then, ma petite?" Céline had nodded fervently, claiming probably a sister would be nicer to play with. He had promised to look into the matter before Céline was hasted off to bed by her embarrassed nurse.

Erik smiled once again recalling the situation. "I must advise Nicole to teach her some new stories one day!"

He noticed Renzo's smile on mentioning the girl's name and gave him a stern look. "And how fare you with your wedding preparations, my friend? I cannot have you dishonouring my daughter's nurse under this very roof now, can I?"

Renzo was sent to a scarlet blush before noticing his master's smile. "She is...a very pretty lady, Maestro. But I can assure you my intentions are honourable indeed. I have not touched a hair on her head."

Seeing another twinkle in his master's eye he realised nothing could be kept from him that he did not already know. "I kissed her goodnight, Maestro, after safely accompanying her home from the festival. The festival to which she had your wife's approval to going to!"

Wife...how well that word sounded. Suddenly he felt a strong urge to be near her again. He had graciously allowed her to retire somewhat earlier, as it seemed polite for a groom to allow his bride some time to prepare for their wedding night. But every minute in her absence now seemed torturous to him and he decided to call it a night.

Upstairs Christine was brushing her long dark curls once more, hazily staring at her own reflection. Erik had given her ample time to change out of her dress, perhaps too much time. Now she sat here waiting for him to join her and it made her more nervous than she had anticipated. It gave her too much time to think. Up to this point Erik had always been the perfect gentleman, turning from her as soon as her corset dared to loosen too far. He had slept beside her fully clothed during many a night, not even daring to sleep under her sheets with her.

But now they were man and wife, and expectations would shift as from tonight. She loved him so dearly, longed for his touch and at the same time felt restless in sensing she was about to share a form of intimacy with him that before that time she had only shared with one other. She cursed herself for letting Raoul slip back into her mind. Raoul de Chagny, drunk as a school boy on his wedding night. He had not hurt her in any way, but had been unable to perform more of an act then simply stripping her of her nightgown and release his desire for her in as short a timeframe as ten minutes. But then again, she had noticed that more often in their marriage. Listening to stories from her friends, and cautiously fumbling through some of the less decent literature in the Chateau's library, she came to understand that though very enthusiastic, her husband had not exactly been a very creative or considerate lover.

She imagined Erik's touch, always so gentle but with such passion locked in it. He was many a year more mature than Raoul, a man of the world who had traveled to far and exotic countries and possessed more knowledge of music, arts and literature in his little finger than she could ever dare hope obtain in a lifetime. A man who could hold his drink, for that matter. And yet completely innocent in the ways of love. She smiled at herself, now suddenly glad she had already passed that awkward moment so that at least one of them would not be consumed by the sickening nerves she had felt that first night. But still, the very thought of being so close to him, of beholding him completely naked so very soon...

She shook her head, noticing her sudden blush in the mirror and began tying her disobedient curls away from her face. She was gently stopped in the middle of her gesture, watching as the white satin ribbon played through his fine fingers a little longer before landing on the floor beside her vanity.

"Do you mind?" She shook her head as she stood and turned to face him, knowing he preferred her hair loose around her face.

She cradled herself in his arms, his body feeling comfortably warm under nothing but his shirt. He had left his mask in his chambers, and she was glad to have anticipated it by lighting only a few candles, afraid to make him feel uneasy in any way. By the clarity of his eyes she suspected he had far surpassed the moment of his bad eye's tiring and had already remedied it with the tonic.

"I'm glad you are here. I missed you."

He ran his fingers through her hair, wondering again at its softness and deeply inhaling its warm lavender scent. "I missed you too ma chère, I only hoped I had granted you enough time to yourself."

She gave him a teasing smile. "From our days at the Opéra you should have remembered I never need much time to dress...or undress for that matter!"

"True, but tonight...well, I suppose it's different..." She heard his voice trailing off, and studying his face she noticed he was indeed very tense. It was the anticipation of knowing what was expected of him and for once, having no idea as to how to go about it.

She kissed him slow and yearning, making sure he would sense her desire for him. To her joy he understood her message, carefully pulling her closer and increasing his grip around her waist. As he slowly slipped her lace dressing gown from her shoulders he shivered to discover she wore only a thin silk negligé underneath. She had found it in a small but exquisite dress shop in town, and had fallen in love with it upon first touching its delicate fabric. It politely covered all her curves from sight, but revealed them ever so shamelessly to the touch. Her purpose was reached as she felt his hands searching their way across her back and hips, before moving forward to her stomach and breasts. For a moment he paused, searching her face as if seeking her approval. She said nothing but merely guided his hands up further, cupping her breasts as she pulled him close once more, kissing every inch of his face. She heard him moan softly, the sweet combination of touch and being touched.

"Christine I love you, I...want you..."

She guided him towards the bed, as she slowly started to unbutton his shirt. "I know..."

Overwhelmed by new sensations he let her work for a while, closing his eyes and concentrating on her touch, feeling her press soft kisses on his trembling chest as his shirt fell open and then to the floor. He felt her small hands searching his bare skin, unaffected by the many scars she encountered there but sighing in admiration, before guiding him to the front of her negligé, encouraging him to give in to temptation. She was his wife, his own, and longed for his touch and his love.

Growing more confident with each kiss and caress he followed by her lead. Slowly, teasingly he unbuttoned the front of the negligé, noticing her nipples piercing its fine fabric in desire for his touch, and he softly brushed them with his lips before circling them with his tongue. He felt her tremble beneath his touch, softly whispering his name. As the silk dropped to the floor without a sound he could do nothing but stare at her heavenly curves, a body beyond recognition from years before. She had grown into a woman, and a very sensual one at that. Her face was flushing under his gaze, her eyes now seeking his approval.

"My angel...you are the most beautiful thing I have ever beheld..."

In one motion he had swept her up in his arms, covering her in kisses, laying her down on the bed as he rid himself of the rest of his clothing. With the fire slowly dying they had only the candlelight to guide them, making their game one of touch rather than sight. Christine moaned as she felt Erik's hands and mouth explore every inch of her yearning body.

The sound seemed to startle him. "Christine, are you..."

She ran her hands through his hair, gently motioning him back to the place his lips had stopped. "Don't stop, Oh God, please don't stop!"

Her sounds were not those of pain, but of pleasure. It drove him mad with desire to know how much she longed for him. Her husband. He was now completely on top of her, feeling her warm skin against his own, her quickening breath pushing against his stomach. He feared to crush her delicate frame under his own weight but felt her pulling him closer, wrapping herself around him, enfolding him in her body.

"How I've dreamed of this a hundred nights..."

It was a trembled sigh in his ear, followed by a long draining kiss down his neck, her whole body arching towards his. By God, how could one endure so much pleasure at once! He paused to seek her eyes, darkened in passion, her moist lips aching for more kisses.

"And I a thousand more, my love, my angel!"

He kissed her again and again as his hands went down in search of that place of mystery, the source of her passion safely hidden between her thighs. It felt warm and moist, its fine muscles immediately responding to his lightest touch. He stroke her as if she were a precious musical instrument waiting to be played, varying in speed and pressure. Her breath was irregular by now, her body pushing into him in the rhythm dictated by his hands.

"Erik, my love, I need you..."

It was all the encouragement he needed. He carefully sought his way, pushing forward until he heard her give a soft cry and knew he had not erred. Her body welcomed him softer and hotter than anything he had ever experienced. He breathed deeply so as not to let his desires escape him too soon. He would not allow it to end that quickly. He had strayed into Heaven itself and was loathe to leave it anytime soon. Caressing her legs around his waist, covering her body in the softest of kisses, he let her sensual movements guide him. "Past the point of no return, no backward glances, our passion-play has now at last begun..." He had no idea back then, as he wrote those words! This exceeded every expectation! Not just to indulge in passion, but to do so with one you truly loved, not just lusted!

"Christine, I..."

"Then do, please..."

All control was lost. There was only the delirious explosion of body and mind. And then silence, in which no more then their trembling breath was heard, their tears of relief and ecstasy mingling with their fervent kisses, loath to part.

He softly moved away from her as his body started to relax, turning on his back and pulling her with him. Words were completely useless, unnecessary. These emotions could not be put into words, only into melodies perhaps. Christine felt as if her soul had left her body, floating about unwilling to return to its human confines. And this was the man who knew nothing of the art of love? She giggled at the thought.

"What occupies your mind so happily that you should disturb my peace of mind with it?" He almost seemed put out.

"I believe Maestro, you have no use for a tutor whatsoever. I feel heavily deceived by your words of inexperience...or should I say heavenly deceived?"

He was silent once more, but she recognised it to be a happy silence. The type he would know after her lesson had gone extremely well, or after he had just finished a beautiful symphony and realised nothing more needed to be added or changed to it.

"The symphony is to your liking then, my dear husband?"

He smiled at her ability to read his mind. "It is sublime indeed, my angel. Every note exactly as it ought."

She wrapped her arms and legs around him possessively. "Then I will keep you far away from your pen and paper, for I will not suffer you leaving me to put your music into writing."

He gave her a teasing look, one so passionate as she had not yet seen before. "You offer me such pleasures in your bed, Signora Alighieri, and fear me to leave you afterwards? I suppose then, I have not yet sufficiently convinced you of my affections!"

"Say it again!"

"What, my love?"

"My name, your name, the one you have made my own..."

He turned at her, touched by the love in her voice and in her eyes. "Signora Alighieri, my loved one, my angel, my wife..."

The next morning he awoke to the seem of sunlight peeking through the curtains. He was enjoying the silence around the house, realising they were the only two people there. The staff had left for the weekend, and Franca and Renzo had offered to bring Nicole and Céline with them to enjoy a weekend at their parents' house on Murano. Their father owned a small glass factory and could make any form, shape or colour before your very eyes. A trade which would no doubt leave little Céline speechless. Erik knew it was also a way for Renzo to introduce Nicole to his family, clever boy!

Turning to his side he noticed Christine still fast asleep. The combination of nerves, wine, followed by their...nocturnal escapades, must have tired her greatly he thought. He thought back to last night. He could not deny he had been very nervous of things to come, happy to drown his doubts with an extra glass of brandy before going to her. He was her husband, he was supposed to be the one to calm her fears, not the other way around. Christine had felt the same, how she had wished to have married him a virgin still!

Later, in the comfort of darkness, she had confessed to him that secretly she had been relieved to know what was to come. Her first experience had been quite nerve-wracking, with no one at the Opera ever preparing her for what was expected, and her husband too drunk to notice or ease her fears. That first night, she admitted, had been quite painful. Not because her husband did not take care, but simply because her body was not yet prepared. Upon hearing her whispered memories, he had been glad to have spared her that. Glad that she had been freed from those pains and nerves, so she had been able to give herself to him freely and unafraid. He realised that the centre between her thighs had gotten more and more fluid as their lovemaking proceeded. Without the initial preparation, he concluded, it was obvious the experience wouldn't have given her any joy. It would have been near impossible to have entered her so fluently.

He looked at her once more, a perfect picture of love and content, the smile he had granted her last night still on her lips, as if her dreams allowed her to relive those moments over and over again. How he loved her! He now understood why she had told him lessons were not necessary. "In love your heart, body and soul become one. They will guide each other. You simply have to let your heart take over your mind, your hands, your mouth, your body." She had been right. THAT he had learned from her!

He softly traced her curling lips with his index finger, watching them curl up even further. He suspected her to be awake, but if she wanted to continue her act, he would gladly indulge her...challenge her. His finger started going down, past her chin to her neck, her collar bones, her breasts...again he immediately noticed her nipples rise from their warm bed, yearning for his play. As his mouth attended them, his hand continued down past her stomach, her belly, her... before he could go on she had pulled him on top of her, suddenly wide awake, her eyes shining.

"Good morning, Signora..."

"Do you not find it very rude to wake your blushing bride so abruptly from her slumbers on the morning past her wedding night?"

"Blushing you say? I wonder what could make my lady blush so? Could it have something to do with the naked man she holds to her bed? Or the acts she performs so happily with him?" His hands continued their caress, as his mouth sought hers. He found her lips welcoming still.

"You told me once, Maestro, that I would be the ruin of you. Do you still find that to be so?" She had slowly started to move her hips underneath him, rubbing against his willing flesh that immediately responded.

"You are a wicked woman indeed. But then again, you are now utterly and completely MY wicked woman and I shall not have to carry the burden of ravishing another man's wife. I suppose that lessons my crimes, would you not agree?" With a smile he concluded he had already steered her beyond the point of answering.

His pounding flesh entered her with more precision and certainty now, knowing its way to her ultimate pleasure. Her legs wrapped around him once more, tilting her hips and begging him closer, deeper. He happily obliged. He noticed his nervous tension from last night to have ebbed away somewhat, steadying his desire, enabling him to continue their play longer without the sudden and all too soon eruption. In the rising light of day he could now see her face, burning with desire, smiling up at him, her eyes dark and wide. He concluded that no image on God's great earth was as beautiful as a woman's face so fueled by passion.

"Signora I see it now, you are indeed blushing."

Once again their passion took over. Erik could not immagine ever being able to leave her bed again. He had accepted the fact that she loved him, he would doubt her love no more. But he would never tire of hearing her say so, nor feeling her yearning body against his own...