Two weeks. She had been Erik's wife for two whole weeks, but Christine didn't feel like a married woman in the least. Ever since that night in his lair, when she had agreed to be his living bride, she had been waiting for something to change between them, for them to start acting as husband and wife. Instead, she felt more like his prisoner than she had the first time he had brought her here. After they had signed the necessary paperwork, he had asked her permission to kiss her hands – as if he needed her permission for such a thing! He was her husband now, wasn't he? – but other than that he had made no move to touch her at all. The only physical contact there had been between them over these past few weeks had been accidental – their hands touching as they reached for the tea pot at the same time, his foot grazing hers under the table as he shifted nervously in his seat – and he even seemed to try to avoid any and all interaction with her. It simply didn't make sense! Why would he want to marry her so badly he was willing to kill for it, only to evade her entirely once she was his wife?
This had to end. She had consented to become his partner, not his captive. She wanted to feel close to him again, like she had when he had come to her as the Angel of Music, or even after, when she had looked at his unmasked face, seen the vulnerability in his eyes, and realized what he truly was: a man. This distance between them had to be overcome, but if she had learned anything about Erik at all, it was that she would not be able to reach him with words alone. If she wanted to rebuild the emotional bond there had once been between them, she would have to reach out to him physically.
On the fifteenth day of their marriage, she did everything she could think of to lighten the atmosphere. She wore her finest gown, tried even harder than usual to initiate conversation over dinner, tried to please him in whatever way she could, but it all seemed to have the opposite effect. As the night wore on, he grew more distant and irritated. When he bit out a cold "goodnight" and turned to leave for his own bedroom, she reached for his shoulder to stop him. He jerked away from her as soon as her fingers made contact.
"What is it, Christine?" he grunted, still facing away from her.
"I was wondering if maybe you would sleep with me tonight," she blurted out.
As soon as the words had left her lips, she knew she'd made a mistake. His posture tensed, his hands balled into fists as he slowly turned the unmasked side of his face in her direction.
"Excuse me?"
"I mean stay with me! In my room. To sleep."
"Why would you possibly want that?" He was seething with anger now, although Christine still did not understand why exactly.
"Well, you're my husband –"
"Ha! Yes, I am your husband. And a very handsome one at that, aren't I? I'm sure you'd be delighted to share a bed with me, wouldn't you, Christine?"
He spun around towards her, tore of his mask and wig and threw them to the ground, his voice thundering through the room. "Is this what you want to see when you wake up tomorrow?"
Christine was taken aback by his rage – she had expected him to refuse, although she had never anticipated he would react this strongly – but she had come this far, she would not back down now.
"I – I told you before, Erik, I'm not frightened of your face anymore. I simply meant… Maybe you would like to - ?"
"If I told you all the things I would like to do to you, my dear, you would run away screaming," he snarled.
Christine swallowed and her answer was a truth she had been too afraid to admit even to herself up until now. "Maybe I wouldn't."
Erik let out a cruel sounding laugh. "You don't know what you're talking about, my sweet, innocent little Angel."
His sarcastic use of the endearment and his condescending tone made anger flare up inside of her. "I'm not that naïve, Erik, I know what I'm saying."
"Do you, now?" he asked. He started making his way towards her, slowly, like a predator stalking his prey. He kept moving closer, until he had her backed up against the wall, almost but not quite touching her, his hands planted firmly on either side of her head. "So you wouldn't go running if I told you how badly I want to kiss you?" He was so close she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke, his lips only a hair's breadth away from hers. "You want to hear how many times I've imagined letting my ugly, malformed lips claim yours, devouring your mouth? For two weeks, it has been all I've been able to think about, Christine."
She had almost forgotten how seductive his voice could sound. He was practically purring in her ear now, and the things he was saying… She wanted them.
"I'd kiss every bit of skin within my reach, Christine. Your mouth, your jaw, your beautiful little neck. I'd lick and suck until my name was the only word on your lips."
Heat was pooling in her stomach, between her legs; she couldn't deny it any longer. Despite everything that had happened, everything he had done to her, the attraction she felt towards him from the beginning had always remained. She wanted him.
"You have no idea how badly I want to touch you. I'd run my hands down your arms, along your sides, over your stomach, until I reached your breasts. And then, when I had you begging me for more, I'd rip off your clothes so I could finally feel your soft, warm, naked skin under my cold, dead fingers."
Christine drew in a sharp breath at the image he was painting with his words, and that's when he pulled back, looking horrified, as if only now realizing what he'd been saying.
"You see, I truly am a monster," he whispered.
He turned to leave, but she had to stop him. This felt like her last chance, the point of no return. If she allowed him to leave now, he'd never let her come close to him again.
"Erik, please, I want …" she whimpered. He stopped mid-stride and before she had time to register what was happening, his mouth was on hers, claiming her. His hands pulled her against him, one moving up to cradle her head, the other roaming over her back possessively. He bit at her bottom lip and used the gasp it elicited to plunge his tongue into her mouth, taking what he had been yearning for so desperately. He kissed her until she could barely breathe, and when she pulled back, he moved his lips to her jaw, trailing them up to the spot just behind her ear. She didn't know being kissed there could feel so heavenly, but then his lips moved down, sucking at her neck instead, and she couldn't hold back a moan.
"Tell me, Christine. Tell me you want me to touch you," he growled, lust and desperation battling for dominance in his voice.
She couldn't have refused him even if she wanted to. Her body longed for him in a way she'd never experienced before. If he stopped now, she believed she might very well die.
"Please, Erik, touch me."
He groaned in response as his fingers trailed achingly slowly from the small of her back to her chest. When he finally reached his destination, cupping her breast in one hand, she felt like she would burst into flame. If it felt this incredible over multiple layers of clothing, then how would it feel on her naked skin? He continued to fondle her breast, his lips latching onto her neck again, kissing and sucking until she was a trembling mess beneath him.
"Tell me to stop and I will," he whispered into her skin. "I want you so much it hurts, Christine. I thought if I kept my distance from you, the temptation wouldn't be as strong, but it only made me burn for you even more. I want you, but I won't take you against your will, so if you wish for me to stop, I need you to tell me now."
His confession made her heart clench painfully. He hadn't stayed away from her because he didn't want her, but to protect her from himself. It all made sense now. The only thing left for her to do was to show him that she didn't need protection. She needed him.
She brought her hands up to his face, caressing both the mangled and unblemished skin, relishing in his answering whimper. "I don't want you to stop," she said, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, every bit as passionate and demanding as his earlier kisses had been.
He only let her take the lead for a short moment before he withdrew, placing one hand on her back and the other under her knees, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to her bedroom. The room was dark except for the fire burning in the fireplace. He put her back down so she was standing at the foot of the bed and took a moment to simply look at her. There was still lust in his gaze, but she also found wonder and adoration there.
After what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds, he approached her, reaching for the pins in her hair, pulling them out one by one and letting her long, brown locks cascade over her back and shoulders. Then, instead of embracing and kissing her like she expected he would, he moved behind her and started to pull at the laces of her dress. His fingers seemed to leave a trail of fire along her back where they pulled the fabric away. She let him undress her until she was standing in front of him again in nothing but her chemise and stockings.
She hadn't really been nervous until that moment. Suddenly she felt so very exposed, his eyes burning through her as his gaze roamed over her almost naked body. He seemed to sense her vulnerability for he drew her to him, gently caressing her back, but it was not enough. She needed him to reciprocate, to lose at least some of his clothing as well, so she started pawing at his coat. He took the hint, removing his coat and waistcoat and dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. Still Christine's nerves remained. She wanted to feel him.
"Kiss me, please," she begged and he was quick to comply. As his lips moved with hers, she began unbuttoning his shirt. When she reached the fourth button, she felt his hand cover hers, stopping her in her tracks.
"Christine, are you sure you want to see this?"
She didn't understand what he meant at first, until she gazed down at the exposed skin of his chest and saw the edges of scars running across it. She didn't know how he came by these scars. She hated that he had them, hated the pain they had caused, but she also knew her pity and compassion was the last thing he wanted to see right now. So she pulled her hands from underneath his, tugged his shirt out of his trousers and continued to open the last few buttons. "I'm sure," she replied and removed his shirt, bending down to trail her lips across the first scar she found. He gasped as he felt her mouth on his skin, clutching at her back to keep her close. She kept kissing her way along his chest until she felt him shiver under her touch.
Finally, he guided her up again and walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit the mattress behind her. She sat down on the bed and watched Erik take off his shoes before he went down on one knee in front her. He gently took her leg and planted her foot on his knee after removing her shoe. His hand slid up softly from her ankle to her calf to her knee, searching for the edge of her stocking. He pulled the fabric down and once he had freed her leg of its confines, he placed a soft kiss on the back of her knee before releasing her leg and repeating the motions on her other leg.
When he was done, Christine scooted up the bed and Erik followed, his hand ghosting up her body over her chemise. He looked at her face, the hunger in his eyes burning through her, and whispered, "Take this off?" She took a deep breath and nodded, doing as he asked. As soon as it was off, she tried to cover herself with her arms. No man had ever seen her like this, almost naked, her drawers the only piece of clothing remaining.
Rather than prying her arms away like she thought he might, Erik bent down and kissed her, softer than before, reassuring her. No matter how badly he wanted her – and the hardness she felt against her hip was certainly proof of that – he still thought about her comfort first. The thought made her feel safe. She let her arms fall away from her chest, putting them around him to place her hands on his back. His kiss turned deeper, more urgent as he finally let his hand explore her naked skin. She gasped as his thumb grazed her hardened nipple.
She was about to protest when he stopped kissing her, but then he moved his mouth lower, closing his lips around the little bud and she promptly forgot how to form words. All she could think of in that moment was the sparks shooting through her as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, only pulling back to bestow the same attention on her other breast.
Meanwhile she felt his hand trail down her stomach, over her hips and thighs. She trembled as his fingers reached the slit in her drawers. He pulled his mouth away from her breasts then, looking up at her as if to ask for permission. She gave it, nodding once, then threw her head back, moaning loudly when his fingers made their way between her folds.
"God, you're so wet for me, Christine," he groaned and the words only stoked the fire inside her. She opened her legs wider, giving him easier access as he explored her. He was a quick study, of course, committing to memory the soft sigh she let out when he stroked her, the high mewl that left her lips as he began massaging her most sensitive flesh, playing her like an instrument. He pressed a finger inside her and she felt like she would combust, rocking her hips against his hand wantonly. Adding a second finger felt slightly painful, but he slowed down when he felt her tense underneath him, giving her time to adjust before he started pumping his fingers inside of her again.
Christine felt her pleasure building, but she didn't want to reach her peak yet. She needed to feel him inside her. She reached for his hand between her thighs, stopping his movements. "I want you, Erik," she breathed, "all of you. Please." He looked up at her face, watching for any signs of uncertainty in her eyes. When he found none, he pulled back to remove his trousers while she pulled off her drawers. He positioned himself above her, placing his hard member at her entrance.
"I need you to tell me if I'm hurting you, alright? Tell me and we can slow down, or stop altogether." She nodded once and let him claim her mouth in a deep kiss, no doubt trying to distract her as he slid into her ever so slowly until he was fully inside. It did hurt. She hissed and he stopped moving, letting her grow used to the feeling as he continued to pepper her face and neck with kisses. When her breathing slowed down and he felt her body relax slightly, he pulled back a little and gave an experimental thrust. It still felt a little uncomfortable, but not really painful anymore, so she moved her hips slightly, encouraging him to go on. He did, thrusting in and out of her gently, trying to keep his pace slow so he didn't cause her any more pain. After a while, when her discomfort was fading, she started to move with him and was pleased to find it began to feel good.
She knew he was struggling to keep things slow, and eventually he couldn't keep back anymore, pumping his hips faster, his mouth latching onto her neck. She moaned at the feeling, her pleasure beginning to build again. Suddenly she felt his fingers move between her folds, rubbing at her soft, sensitive bud, until all she could do was whimper and speak his name over and over again as her release crashed over her. He thrust into her hard and fast a few more times before he too reached his climax.
After, they lay curled up together, her head nestled on his shoulder. One of his hands covered hers where it was resting over his stomach, the other was playing with her hair. Erik hadn't said anything in a while, which was starting to worry her.
"Are you alright?" Christine asked.
He snorted. "Alright? Alright doesn't even begin to describe it. You have given me such an incredible gift tonight, Christine, I'm not sure you understand how much that means to me."
"It is you who has given me a precious gift, Erik. All I have wanted these past few weeks was to feel close to you. Tonight was more than I could have dreamed of."
She pulled back from his embrace so she could look at him, moving her hand up to caress the deformed side of his face. He sighed, taking her hand away and pressing a kiss to her wrist.
"I'm sorry I kept away from you. I could see you weren't happy, but I truly believed you could never desire me the same way I desire you, and I couldn't bear the thought of forcing my attentions on you." His voice broke and she could see tears glistening in his eyes.
"Shh, it's alright, my love. I do desire you. So much it is almost frightening. But it feels exhilarating at the same time. Do you think one can ever grow used to feeling this way?"
He hummed, smiling down at her. "We have a whole lifetime to find out, my love."