Erik yawned and stretched his arms over his head. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see Christine looking down at him. She placed her index finger over his mouth her hair falling over her shoulders.
"I fed Charlotte and just got her back to sleep. Do you think we can be quite?" She whispered into his ear a mischievous grin on her mouth.
The Phantom propped himself up on the pillows an arch on his brow, "What in the Devil? We made love twice last night!"
Christine laid her head against her husband's chest, "Last night, Erik, seeing you defend our daughter the way you did, made me lascivious. To see how much you've curved your violence but have lost none of your passion..."
"I've been trying so hard, Christine. Music and then you are all I've ever wanted and now that I have them both…" He leaned in and kissed her, pushing her flat on her back. He pulled away and smiled, playing with her hair, "How about I just show you that passion since you desire it so."
He pulled her nightgown off tossing it onto the floor, "No need to worry about that since we'll be getting dressed later." He sat up between her legs, pulled his nightshirt off and it joined hers on the floor, "Same goes for mine."
Christine reached up and touched her husband's chest. So many scars from the abuse he suffered when he was in the circus. She felt honored he trusted her so fast in being nude in her presence. He leaned down and kissed her, opened mouth slipping his tongue pass her lips. He tangled his fingers through her hair as her hands trailed down his body, grouping his behind.
"Christine, I love you…I love you," Erik whispered before trailing kisses on her jawline, down her neck eventually leading to between her breasts.
The Diva dug her nails into his buttock, "Quit teasing me…"
The Phantom smiled as he licked around her left areola before just slighting biting the nipple. He then latched, helping himself to a solid serving of her milk. Christine moaned at the sensation; he had not partaken last night heightening it. He trailed one of his hands between her thighs, finding her folds already sticky.
He pulled away from her breast, "Mmm, how long were you thinking about this before I woke?"
"I am a horribly wanton woman, Angel. I am not meant for proper society," Christine whispered in his ear.
"It's why you found your way back to me; your Angel of Music, outcast of society."
His fingers slick with her moisture, he rolled that sensitive nub between his fingers until he felt it engorge more than it was. Christine arched off the bed and cried out.
"I thought we were being quiet," Erik growled pushed his growing erection into her inner thigh as he squeezed the nub. "Perhaps I should assist in silencing that voice I trained." He placed his free hand on her throat and squeezed lightly while continuing to squeeze and roll the flesh between her thighs.
Christine saw flashes of light behind her closed lids as release rolled between her thighs. Erik found his hand wet when her quick intense climax released a gush from inside her. When he let go of her throat, she gasped loud, placing her own hand on her chest. Her Angel of Music did not let up though. His hands were on her waist, his damp hand cold on her warmed skin as he turned her onto her stomach.
"Oh Erik, really?" Christine gasped still breathless.
"Yes. I know exactly how this drives you mad." Pushing her behind up ever so slightly, Erik slipped his cock into her. He pushed hard and deep; the sound of their flesh against each other was far from being hushed tones.
"Oh Angel," The Soprano moaned as she squirmed under him, growing weaker with each thrust.
He placed his hands on top of hers sinking them into the mattress, "Sing for me, sing for me when your voice has no control."
Christine cried out feeling herself constrict around her husband's girth as he now pushed in and out faster.
"Yes, yes, that's it sing," he groaned into her ear, trying to pull himself back from falling off the edge of gratification himself. He lifted one of his hands off of her's and worked it underneath her body and brushed her bud with his middle finger. And sing his Christine did.
The Soprano cried and whimpered as wave after wave of pleasure broke over her. She collapsed and sank into the bed, the walls of her womanhood still pulsing around her husband's manhood when his own climax finished. The instant he withdrew she felt his seed flow out instantly and into a wet spot she had already created on the sheets. She also felt wet spots under her breasts.
He laid down beside her, kissing her shoulders, "Ah Christine, Ah Christine." She sighed loudly, "Oh Angel, I am thoroughly spent."
Erik, wiped the sweat from her forehead, "Are you sure? I might be ready again."
She smiled at him, "Oh Angel, I do not believe I can walk right now as it is."
Mr. Y rolled her onto her back and straddled her, "Are you saying, Mrs. Christine Y that we are too sick to get out of bed?" A smile on his bloated lips he leaned in to kiss her.
Christine started to laugh trying to push him away, "Oh God no!"
However, their excessive afterglow was interrupted by a frantic knock at their door. "Mama! Mama! Are you okay?!" The door then flew open and Gustave ran in fully dressed for the day.
"Papa is she okay?!"
"Gustave!" Christine shrieked.
Erik rolled off his wife and both grabbed for the sheets to cover themselves from their son as they sat up. Once they were both organized, Gustave saw his mother and threw himself at her, not noticing the sheet and blue quit was all that covered her.
"I heard you crying, Mama!" He wrapped his arms around her as he sat next to her on the bed. "I thought you were hurt again! You were crying almost like you do in my nightmares!"
"Oh darling," She held her son tight. "It's okay. I am fine."
He looked up at her, tears in his eyes, "Then why were you crying?" He looked over at his father eyes wide, "Why was she crying? You said you wouldn't hurt her!"
"Oh Gustave," Christine rubbed her son's cheek as she smiled at him, "Papa didn't hurt me at all."
"Then why were you crying?"
Christine looked over at her husband who was rubbing his eyes.
"So why was I crying, Erik?"
The Phantom sighed and ran his fingers through his thin hair. Christine smiled at him before returning her attention to their son, "You see Gustave, sometimes husbands and wives cry in pleasure together over things that are not discussed because even if they were you are too young for them to be."
The boy looked perplexed at her for a minute. Christine bit her lip hoping for no questions.
"But mother," Gustave stated. "You never cried like that with Mr. de Chagny."
A laugh from the bottom of his gut busted from Erik's mouth as he flopped back down onto the bed.
Christine patted her son's head, "Be a darling and take your sister with you back to Mary. I need to have a word with your father. You can have breakfast without us, we'll be down later. Close the door on your way out." She kissed his cheek, "I love you."
"I love you too, Gustave," Erik sat back up and smiled at his son.
"Come on, Charlotte," The boy stood on tip toe and removed his sister from the bassinette. The baby slowly woke up as he carried her out and closed the door.
"Erik, you are terrible!" Christine picked up one of the pillows and hit her husband with it.
The man continued to laugh, but eventually grabbed the pillow from her and tossed it to the floor. "Ten long years of no 'pleasure crying,' my poor Christine. No wonder Gustave had no siblings. No wonder you're so wanton and was in the family way within a month of us being together again."
"You got me pregnant, after one night the first time," she lightly slapped his deformed his cheek.
"Because I made you climax three times. Shall we go for four?" He nuzzled his face into her neck and nibbled lightly.
"We're lucky I'm nursing, keeps me getting pregnant again," She ran her fingers through Mr. Y's hair as she wrapped her legs around him.
"And to think you wanted a wet nurse!"
She slapped his face again, "Keep that up Mr. Y and you'll be back in your old room with my understudy."
"At least she made me pleasure cry unlike that…"
Christine pushed her whole hand over The Phantom's mouth, "Quiet!"
He kissed her palm before speaking into it, "Charlotte is no longer in the room, we don't have to be. Not that we were when she was."
"Shut up and fuck me again, Erik."
The man arched his eyebrows, "Language, Mrs. Y! But since you asked so politely." He leaned down and kissed his wife passionately knowing he would be late for work and that it didn't exactly matter.