Christine spun the vestibule's door back and forth sometimes pausing it to look into the old bed room. There was a sudden quickening in her womb and she put her hands over where it was happening and rubbed.
"Oh little one, please look like more like your mother than your father. I do not know if he can handle another," The Soprano whispered looking down at her stomach.
"Angel, what are you in here for?" Erik walked into his work room. "There's no fire or stove on, you're going to catch a cold. We cannot have you in that state."
"I am fine, I haven't been in here long. Just long enough to be thinking."
He cuddled up behind her, wrapping his arms around her above her stomach, "Are you letting your mind wander?"
"Kind of," She rested her head against his shoulder. "With the new baby coming and Charlotte getting bigger; I was thinking it's time we make an actual nursery. We can move Charlotte into it because the new baby will need the bassinette in our room. And eventually the new baby and Charlotte can share."
"And you are thinking my work room would make a great nursery?"
"Isn't it way past time you give yourself a proper work room on the Phantasma property? You can make it so much bigger. And then our house will be only for what it's supposed to be for: our family."
"Family…" Erik whispered and walked away. He looked at all his tools organized and hanging in their proper place. "This house was already on the land. I claimed it; fixing it up allowing myself the music room, a library, this work room and my bedroom. What more did a man like me really need? I was never going to have a family."
The Soprano replied not caring if it was rhetorical or not, "Well you do and sacrifices will have to be made. I already cut my performance schedule when I didn't want to."
"I guess I can build a separate work building behind the house."
"Yes, and you can build it as big as you want," Christine leaned against the work bench.
Erik smiled at his wife, "I don't think I can get that built in time but I promise to get this cleared out and renovated before the baby is born." He leaned over and kissed her passionately. He ran his hands up the sides of her curves, cupping her breasts, as his lips moved to nibbled on her earlobe.
Her nipples peaked, she giggled and turned her head, "Erik, please!"
"Please what?" with her turned head he brushed his lips along her jawline.
"There's not exactly anywhere comfortable to do what you're leading us to, in my current state, in this room. Besides, Gustave has a key to this room."
"Of course he does, clever child. However," Erik pulled his wife into the vestibule and spun its door around. "He doesn't have a key to this room. And there is a bed in here." He opened the door and locked it behind them. The afternoon light was bright through the windows.
"Besides if this to become part of the nursery, I cannot think of a better way to end its days as my bachelor room than consummating it with the real Christine Daae, big with my child."
"I am not that big yet, Mister. In a month or two I will be and movement too awkward for such spontaneous trysts." She laced her fingers with his and walked him over to the bed.
He watched as her peach tea dress swirled around her body, exposing her white slippers. She took to dressing relaxed and causal around the house with this pregnancy. She saved the maternity corsets and dresses she had held back from her pregnancy with Charlotte for when she left the house.
Erik helped his wife up onto bed. They removed their shoes before sitting side by side kissing, his hands gently caressing her throat, her breasts through her dress where he felt wet spots form.
"It's okay," Christine pulled away. "Do you want to take your mask and wig off? I want to run my fingers through your actual hair."
The Phantom obeyed, placing them on the old night stand, "Better?"
Christine smiled, caressing the deformed cheek before twirling the gray wisps of hair on his head, "Yes."
He closed the space between them again and allowed their lips to meet as he guided her down onto the bed so they were still on their sides, facing each other.
"I'm not taking my dress off, Erik," she pressed her forehead against his, her nails caressing his scalp. "Despite feeling lascivious, I'm not feeling exactly beautiful."
"And yet you made me take off my mask. Do you think I'm feeling beautiful?"
Christine laughed, "I'll take my bloomers off, so you won't have to worry about finding the gusset." As she moved to the edge of the bed and stood, finding it easier to remover her undergarment that way; Erik removed a few layers of clothing himself. His waistcoat and suspenders went to the floor before he undid his pants and drawers, pushing them to his ankles. He wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed it up and down, engorging it more. Cowper's fluid ran down the tip.
"Angel, you don't have to start taking care of yourself until a couple of months."
He opened his eyes and saw his wife crawling towards him. "I…I wasn't I was just readying myself a bit more."
The Soprano saw the shame in his eyes and caressed his check, "I jest." She kissed him before crawling on top to straddle him.
Erik moved his hand from himself to his angel's cunt, "I can ready you…" His eyes widen and he chuckled. "I seemed to have forgotten what pregnancy does to your womanhood."
"That doesn't mean I don't want the extra attention." She rocked back and lifted her dress, exposing her swollen lips to her husband. "As I have told you before, I am wanton woman, not fit for society," her voice was sultry and Mr. Y instantly gave into her demands. He rubbed her drenched pleasure mound and lips, bringing her to a quick quivering climax before she engulfed him.
She was slow and deliberated with her lovemaking, having already received some relief. Her husband however groaned in frustration. "Faster," He grabbed her hips and pushed up at a rhythm much more to his satisfaction. In trying to find his bliss he slipped out a couple of times.
"Erik! Did you also forget how pregnancy makes my womanhood extra moist?" She held his cheeks. "Let me control and I promise we will both find release."
As promised The Diva and The Phantom both found their release. Exhausted but contented; Christine dozed off, curled up on her side.
Once he redressed, Erik curled up behind his wife. "Christine, I love you," he whispered into her ear. She stirred, her dress shifting. It was already bunched mid-thigh exposing skin since she was only wearing her stockings to her knees right now and her bloomers were off. "Despite feeling lascivious, I'm not feeling exactly beautiful." Her words echoed through the Opera Ghost's mind.
He sat up. She had not let him see her bare stomach in a couple of months. And he had respected it…until now. He pushed the dress and chemise up. There were new bright red stretch marks, he could see the white faded ones from when she carried Charlotte. Gustave's were there somewhere too but too old to be noticed. He gazed just a bit further over and up. There it was. It was more distended than it has ever been and was currently more red than brown. That damned scar from that damned night when she was shot and he almost lost her again. Mr. Y cried. Maybe this was what she was hiding from him. He didn't recall it being like this with Charlotte.
He leaned over and covered the scar in kisses. His Christine had sacrificed so much, too much for him. Their children deserved the best nursery. She deserved the best opera all of man had ever seen. He pulled her dress all the way back down to her ankles.
She stirred again, "Angel?"
"You rest," he whispered in her ear. "I will come back and get you when it's supper."
Christine sighed and smiled as she closed her eyes again. He turned on the stove heater in the room before leaving to plan out exactly the new nursery.