Hello my dear readers! I sincerely appologise for the long delay, I'm sure all of you are dying to find out what's going to happen in good old Paris. The delays have been for positive reasons this time, however. I'm in the process of obtaining a new (and better!) job, as well as working on my other babee "Rising from the Ashes" with its proud mummy DawnStag. Read it people! This chapter is gonna be a bit dark and angsty, but keep in mind daddy Erik will come to the rescue sooner or later! Enjoy and thanx again for all your amazing reviews! -x- Lotte.

It was already past midnight as Céline lowered her tired body into a steaming hot bath. Finally, finally they had reached their new home in Paris. The apartment Roger had leased shortly before their departure to Italy, and was now delicately furnished by his dear mother. The journey had been tiresome going from inn to inn, sleeping amongst strangers, constantly looking back to make sure no news of a pursuit out of Venice came. Céline had never been so sad and confused. How did her life ever spiral out of control like this? Only weeks before she had immagined a beautiful sunny wedding at the Santa Maria Formosa, her father's sacred work. She would be clad in clouds of white silk and surrounded by her sisters, her proud and loving parents watching on.

Instead she had had to settle for an ivory ball gown Roger had managed to procure from God knows where and had been ushered into a small Swiss chapel at sunset, their only witnesses being two nervous looking choir boys. He had brought his grandmother's ring, which his mother had given him as soon as he had informed her of his intentions to ask for Céline's hand. That, at least, had been an affectionate note to their nuptials. Upon their arrival back at the obscure little inn, all she could do was cry. She was supposed to have her wedding night here? Lose the sanctity of her virginity, her innocence of childhood in a bed no doubt often used for similar purposes by dozens of strangers before them? The thought alone had made her sick to her stomach and after some coaxing attempts by Roger, and more tears on her part begging his forgiveness for her refusal, he had resigned and had promised her to wait until they were home. Truly home.

Roger had wondered at more than one point whatever he had been thinking to get himself involved in this mess. Was she worth all the trouble? He let his mind wander to the large sums of money soon to be his own and quieted his frustrations. Yes, she would definitely be worth it. He could only pray their arrival here in Paris would stop the endless flood of tears that had seemed to encounter him ever since they had left Venice, and that Madame DuChamps would feel up to finally fulfilling her marital duties. His loins were aching by now and his temper was getting short. He could have forced her of course. But where would that have led him? God knows, she might have turned on her heels and run back to Italy! And so he casually strolled into the bathroom, slowly unbuttoning his shirt while reaching for a towel to offer his wife.

"I believe it is best for you to come out now my darling, I would not want you to vaporise among these mists..."

Céline swallowed hard before shooting her dear husband a shy glance and getting up from amidst the fragrant bubbles. Playing the perfect gentleman, he allowed his curious eyes only a short glance before wrapping her in the warm towel and sweeping her off her feet towards the bed.

Laying her down he leaned over her, brushing her moist curls away from her blushing face. "Now…doesn't that feel much better my love?"

"Yes, it does. It feels so good to be home Roger, really home, our home…"

"A special place for a special night…" Her heart began to race as he lowered his mouth to hers, before continuing down to her neck and the swell of her bosom above the towel.

"You are so beautiful my darling…you have no idea how much I have wanted you."

Indeed, she had no idea at all! His body was throbbing at the anticipation of her virginite body receiving him. Her insecure gasps, her tight canal squeezing around him…indeed a virgin was always a pleasure to have in one's bed. Especially one as pretty as Céline. And now that she was his wife he would not have to worry about her ever refusing him again. Contrary to independent souls like Sophie, who would actually tell him no if she felt tired or wished to court another that night, Céline would know her rightful place: in his bed, ready when he wanted her. It was her duty as well as his right!

Céline was trying to relax, not wanting to allow her nerves to get the bettert of her. Roger loved her and she knew he would never hurt her. She stilled momentarily as he rid her of her towel, sending a lust-filled look up and down before groaning in delight and lowering himself on top of her again.

His hands seemed to be everywhere, and though she could not deny a certain excitement flooding her veins she was unable to shake the feeling that something was missing. All she had had to feed off so far were the romantic novels Aurora and herself loved to indulge in, and in those the lovemaking would last for hours on end, husbands and wives exchanging words of love and admiration. Somehow it felt as if Roger had completely forgotten she was there…

"Roger…dearest…" He looked up at her shortly, afraid she was going to refuse him once more and ready to ignore her pleas. But this time he only found insecurity, another shy smile, and he realised she needed confirmation that all was right somehow.

"Celine, my beautiful Céline. Your body was meant to belong to me my sweet. Let me ignite a fire in you as you have never felt before, let me love you as a husband is destined to love his wife…" His last words had come out a husky whisper and the moment he felt her swooning to his compliments he quickly opened her thighs beneath him and thrusted inside of her.

The world seemed to stop for a second as a razor-sharp pain seemed to split her in half. She bit her lip and tried not to cry out; this was not a time to be weak. He had been angelically patient with her, never claiming his rights until she was ready to give herself to him. He deserved this. And it was supposed to hurt, was it not? It was what all her friends from the ballet had told her. It was the breaking of your barrier, the final proof that husband and wife truly belonged together. Their marriage was consummated and no one would separate them now.

And so she clung to Roger desperately, trying to feel all the bliss and joy she was supposed to be feeling at such a special moment. Yet every one of his movements pained her and secretly she hoped it would not continue for much longer.

When exactly was it decided that the lovemaking was at its end? How did one know? She realised soon enough however, as Roger pushed back into her once more and let out a euphoric moan. Simultaneously she could feel his warm seed enter her body and she understood this had to mean he had had his release, the flow of his bodily fluids that would hopefully bring her with child soon. How she longed to give him a son! Their family would be complete then!

"Dammit Céline, you were so perfect, so ready and willing for me my darling…"

She could only answer him with a brief smile, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry. As her husband drifted off to sleep Céline turned to face Mouf Mouf, gently smiling down on her with his one and only eye, sending her off to the sweet dreams of her carefree childhood. Everything would be alright now, she would never be lonely again…