Screams from down the hall jolted Erik from his slumber. Within a few seconds they were followed by cries from the bassinet. Erik lit the oil lamp on his nightstand as Christine stirred, "I had just fallen back to sleep, and a nice sleep."
"I believe our son is having another night terror. I'll be back." Slippers on his feet, Erik wrapped his dark blue robe around his lithe frame. He grabbed the oil lamp and headed down the hall to Gustave's room.
"Charlotte please…mama would like to sleep. Your brother wasn't half as fussy," Christine mumbled to herself as she rubbed her eyes. Using only the moonlight she stumbled to the bassinet and removed the crying infant and rocked her.
Mr. Y turned the handle on his son's room and opened it, "Gustave! Gustave!" As he moved towards the bed the lamp revealed the boy thrashing on the bed, knotted up in his covers. He screamed again as Erik sat the oil lamp next to the one on the night stand. "Gustave! Gustave, please, it's Papa! Papa is here!" He ran his fingers through his son's hair, massaging the scalp till the boy stopped moving.
His eye flew open and he gasped for breath, "Papa! I'm not going to make it to the water closet!" He tugged and pulled, trying to free himself from his blankets.
"You'll be fine," Erik reached from under the bed and removed a chamber pot. He lifted the ceramic lid and sat it on the floor beside the pot.
"Oh thank you, Papa!" Gustave then jumped off the bed as his father pulled the sheets away in one quick motion. The boy sighed as he relieved himself; Erik looked away to give him a bit of privacy.
When he heard the lid go back on, he turned back to his son, "Put it back under the bed, you can empty it in the morning when the light is better." He lit the other oil lamp and remade the bed, "Now lay back down and tell me about your nightmare." Erik crawled under the covers with his son and held him tight.
"Mama was on the dock dying blood everywhere but…but Charlotte was there and father…well Mr. de Chagny and he was laughing at Charlotte. I kept yelling at him, 'Father stop! Father stop!' and he wouldn't. And I…" The boy cried, his tears dampening his father's robe.
"I'm here Gustave, I'm here," His deformed lips kissed the top of the boy's head. "And Mama's is quite alive; Charlotte is okay."
"When will I stop having these nightmares, papa?"
Erik rubbed his hand up and down Gustave's back trying to soothe him. "I don't know but I know this, don't be ashamed. I used to have nightmares too and my parents never came to see if I was okay. I was scared, alone but you will never be; you'll always have mama and me…" He paused and took a deep breath, "and even Mr. de Chagny was a good father to you before I was in your life. Just remember those horrible dreams aren't real. When you wake up you are the Young Mister of Phantasma where everything that is unusual is beautiful!"
"Mom says I have share Phantasma now with Charlotte," Gustave pouted.
Mr. Y arched his good eyebrow, "Is that so? Well we will just see about that." He crawled out of the covers and then tucked Gustave back in. "Do you feel better? Do you think you can get back to sleep? Do you want me to leave your lamp burning?"
"Yes please."
"Now get some sleep and you can come work with me tomorrow."
The boy sat up, eyes wide and a smile on his face, "You promise, Papa?"
"Yes. Pleasant dreams, Gustave," Erik kissed his son on the forehead before picking up his oil lamp. Door closed he returned to the master bedroom.
In the soft glow of the lamp, Christine laid on her side, her dark curls a halo on the pillows, Charlotte cradled in her arm that rested on the bed. The child suckled at her breast as her little hands held onto Christine's finger.
She looked up from the infant to her husband, "Next time you feed Charlotte and I comfort Gustave."
"If I could I would, Angel," Erik leaned over and kissed her. "You look beautiful."
"Would you mind terribly if I hired a wet nurse?" Christine observed her husband has he removed his dressing room and hung it foot post of their bed.
His face twisted in terror, "A wet nurse?! Oh Christine, really?" He removed his slippers before crawling into the bed behind her. Showering her neck in kisses his eyes did no leave Charlotte's little face. "Did you use a wet nurse with Gustave?"
"No, but I wasn't performing at the time."
"She needs her mother. More importantly I want her to have her mother," Erik reached his arm over his wife and caressed his daughter's cheek.
"But you also want her mother to sing for you. What about what her mother wants?" The Soprano lifted his hand from the baby's face and took it into her's.
"And what does my Christine want?" The Phantom asked in-between kisses on her neck and shoulder. "She has made me the happiest man in the world. Happiness to which I am not worthy. I am working on a new song for you. Do you want to hear the melody?"
Not waiting for an answer, The Phantom leaned his lips against her ear and softly hummed. The Soprano eyes fluttered shut and she sighed. He knew he could seduce her time and time again with his music and she hated him for it. She hated herself for it. Just beneath the baby's mouth Christine felt her heart pound, she curled her toes and squeezed her husband's hand tighter.
He stopped humming and nibbled on her earlobe, "What did you think? I am still working on it. I might add some more layers." He propped himself up, leaned over and turned his head to meet his wife's lips. She moaned as she slipped her tongue passed his large lips. However, it wasn't until she felt Erik's free hand bundling the linen of her nightgown, pulling it up past her thighs that she registered her wanton actions.
"Erik stop! Have some decency! I'm feeding our daughter! What you want me to do!" She let go of his hand and lightly slapped the good side of his face.
"Oh don't tease me, Christine," Pulling up his night shirt, he pushed his firm member into her back. "Charlotte will never know." He pried her legs open with his knee, before adjusting his position so he could penetrate her from below and behind, "Sing for me, Christine!"
The Diva shivered and moaned the moment the tip of his cock entered her. She draped her free leg over her husband's body giving him more access and secured Charlotte closer and tighter to her body. His thrusts were slow and deliberate as not to rock their bodies drastically and disturb their daughter. Long strides, in and out, Christine tightened her cunt around him each time he moved out, causing him to exert extra effort and enhancing pleasure for them both. He groaned into her throat. She closed her eyes, seeing nothing but flashes of light as she whimpered into the pillow. Milk leaked out of her unoccupied breast dampening her night gown.
"Now that is a waste; let me help you with that," Mr. Y leaned over his wife's body, pulling her other breast out. He latched on tightly, his tongue teasing her nipple in the way only a lover could.
"Oh Erik…Erik…" She whimpered. The flashes of light behind her lids expanding as she constricted tighter around his girth pushing it out as the pulsating wave of orgasm overcame her.
He followed instantly, letting out a large sigh; spilling his seed on her inner thigh.
Suddenly, both her breasts were cold and she forced her eyes open to look down. Charlotte had pulled away as well, her hands now busy in her mother's hair. Christine chuckled to herself as she touched her forehead to her daughter's, "I guess we're all satisfied now."