When Christine entered their master bedroom, she found her husband, wig and mask removed, in his night shirt, bend over the bassinette humming softly. It was a melody all too familiar.
"You alone can make my song take flight," Christine sung the words softly as she walked over to his side. "Help me make the music of the night." She smiled down at the sleeping baby, holding onto the bassinette's side.
Erik continued to stroke the baby's head looking at her as well, "I bathed and changed her so if she wakes later it's hunger."
"Thank you, Angel. Our children are so fortunate to have a father who will actually do those tasks."
"Even if I run ridged rehearsal schedules for them?"
Christine sighed and walked away from the bassinette. She sat down at her vanity and unbuttoned her top.
"You know this isn't about that, Christine," He walked up behind her and pulled the pins from her hair. He placed each one in their tray.
"I know," The Diva removed her top, causing Erik to pause in his task.
"All you had to do was ask or tell me sooner you wanted an understudy," He removed the last couple pins and Christine's hair completed its fall into a cascade of brown curls. "Then this fight would have been over a month ago."
"Would it have been though?" Christine turned in her chair, lifting her skirts into her lap to expose her stockings and ankle boots. She bent and undid the top button of one of the boots before looking up; catching her husband looking directly at her breasts as they were pushed up and over her corset and chemise. She smirked at him, "I've been leaking all day. Having the wet nurse while I am working leaves me full."
"You minx," Erik got down on one knee in front of her and took her foot into his hands. His nimble fingers made quick word of removing that boot. "You know damn well you are too angry to let me drink," He untied the satin garter ribbon and rolled the stocking off her leg.
He removed the other shoe and then massaged the ball of her foot through the stocking. Christine leaned back in her chair, stretched her arms over her head and sighed.
"You should wear more comfortable shoes during the day."
"These are my comfortable shoes."
"Lies," Erik sat that foot down and lifted the bare one up. He massaged it, "You are no longer a dancer, you need not be so cruel to your feet."
"I would enjoy this more if I knew you did not have ulterior motives."
The Phantom's hands gently moved their way up her calve massaging it, "Do I always have to have an ulterior motive?"
"Do you have to ask, Erik?" She removed her earrings and sat them on the vanity. "And we both know you're still angry at me."
He lifted her leg higher, her skirts falling all the way back to her waist. He rested his face against her bare flesh; his distended lips kissing up her thigh until they reached the lace edge of her panalettes.
Christine let out a breath she did not know she was holding. "Who is teasing now?" She whispered breathless.
"Ah Angel," The Phantom removed his lips from her inner thigh, moving them to the wiry hair exposed by the panalettes' gusset. They tickled his nose slightly as he kissed them gently.
His wife shifted down in her chair instantly, spreading her thighs wider, resting her leg that was in the air on top of her husband's shoulder. His tongue's tip traced her now exposed wet pink lips before moving up and gently taking that little ball above her womanhood between his distorted lips. He sucked and rolled it.
The Diva's moan filled the room just as her fingers pushed through his grey tufts. She held his scalp tight as she pushed his face firm into her sex. He licked, lapped and when Christine finished her "Little Death," he looked up at her smiling, his lips and chin glistening with her juices.
She removed her hands from his head, followed quickly by her leg on his shoulder, "I guess I can no longer be angry with you." The Diva was still trying to catch her breath.
"That was the point, Angel," Erik stood. "I never want us going to bed angry anymore."
"You assume you can just pleasure me out of irritation?"
"No, but it can only aide us," he caressed her cheek. "Besides I think what we were angry about is over. You have an understudy, I now know, you now realize you can just tell me things and someday I will realize I cannot control everything. Might take until my dying day, but I will get there, Christine."
Her eyes large, she brushed her fingers down his nightshirt, stopping to where his arousal was apparent.
"You do not have to worry about me."
"I am not," She stood and kissed him. "However, if my dear husband happens to be waiting on the bed after I have finished undressing and have inserted my womb veil, he might just receive some pleasure while I get some more."
The Angel of Music reach his arms around and found the laces on Christine's corset. He loosened them, "Let me at least assist in undressing you." Once the garment felt loose enough, he moved his nimble fingers to the front and unhooked the top grommet.
The Diva smiled, "No argument here."