AN: Thank you all for your continued reviews! Warning: This scene has some no-punches-pulled smut in it. A few have asked about the Colette scene in the last chapter - I am tossing around the idea of posting the companion piece, in which case, that is the scene which intersects the two stories.
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The arrow is no swifter in bringing death,
Than is your lover to fly into your arms!
Ah! respond to my tenderness!
Fill me with ecstasy!
~Camille Saint-Saëns, Samson et Delilah
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Chapter 17
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His eyes shot open and he grew tense in her arms. No woman had kissed him without that mask. He didn't know how to respond, what to do, what to say. Finally, the desire and adoration that had been building in him since the moment he saw her overtook him like a tidal wave; and he melted into that kiss deeply.
Christine felt his lips relax and she deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him shaking and held him tighter, moaning into his mouth. She poured all of her love into him, feeling lightheaded and euphoric.
His lips parted as he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping about her with desperation. A growl travelled between his mouth and hers as their tongues danced.
Christine finally broke the kiss, staring into his golden eyes. His beautiful, perfect golden eyes. She felt light as a feather; if Erik let go, she would topple to the ground. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, realizing she did not know what to say.
"Christine.." Erik whispered. He held her tightly, as if terrified to let her go. In fact, he doubled down by bending slightly, scooping her off of her feet and into his arms easily, taking her into his lair. "I don't know what to say…" He murmured, unable to take his eyes off of her, setting her down.
She laughed, "Nor do I!" Her courage left her then, and Christine suddenly felt very shy. Blushing, she walked from the man and deeper into the furnished lair, her hand wringing in anxiety.
He'd follow her, the searing kiss lingering on his lips. Watching her carry the mask with her. She was so beautiful, so radiant after this night's performance. She was his student, much younger than him, but his heart burned for so much more than that...Forbidden thoughts that ached within him.
As Christine walked, she ran her fingers down the cheek of the porcelain mask, tracing its contours. her heart was beating furiously as she turned and smiled, looking straight into his perfect, beautiful eyes. She raised her arm and hesitantly offered Erik his mask.
He would take it, looking at it slowly. "Do you desire for me to put it on once more?" He asked, his gaze remaining level with hers once more.
Christine shook her head. "Not if you don't wish to; It's your mask, you should be able to choose whether or not to wear it."
"I wish to make you comfortable," he replied, not being at such a self-accepting level yet. He would turn away, then looked through the curtains to his bedroom; his gaze falling to the bed, his mind beginning to think truly forbidden thoughts as he turned back to Christine, the mask now fully in place.
"Oh, don't put it on, on my account!," Christine urged when he began to redon the mask.
Eric turned to face her. "That was the first time that I have taken the mask off and not been mocked. Forgive me...It is hard to be without it." He stood there in that doorway, as if silently beckoning for her to come to him.
Christine followed without hesitation. She didn't know how to analyze what had just happened. On one hand, she was sad that he put the mask on because of chronic mockery, but on the other….it covered the only thing on his body that wasn't perfect. With the mask on, he was simply beautiful. Christine felt a wave of shame course through her body for thinking that, but it was the truth.
"Your suitor is no doubt looking for you right now," he murmured as she drew near him.. Heavens, how he wanted her; sinfully desired her in that moment. It had been too long since he had seen her, heard her sing, and now all of that rushed to the surface.
Christine made a face. "Raoul is an unhappy man. He has been searching for his place for a long time and makes everyone miserable around him doing it."
She shook her head. "I…
Wouldn't want to presume or impose… but if … you were to be my patron again...I would never have to see him again. And I would be happier for it."
"It would give me great pleasure to become your patron. And not just because I wish to see him out of your life," he murmured. With that, he would place a hand on her cheek, caressing it softly. It would be so inappropriate...or expected..for him to press this relationship with her but he could not deny himself this one touch.
Christine's smile was stunning. She turned her head and watched the two of them in the mirror. Curious, she walked away from Eric, approaching the shining silver. "So many mirrors for a man who thinks himself a monster… are they all fake?"
"Surprisingly not. I never wish to be caught by surprise," he replied, taking a step closer to her from behind, gazing at the two of them. His heart turned a bit, as if liking the portrait they made. He reached forward , leaning into her, causing her to gasp in surprise, but his hand moved passed her to a music box perched on the vanity. He opened the lid gently and a haunting melody danced in the air. "I have lived my entire life in the darkness. It heightens each sensation. Christine…. Just for tonight… turn your face away from the unfeeling light of above. Listen to the music. Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams and you'll live as you've never lived before. Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before, let your soul take you where you long to go. Only then can you belong to me." He wrapped his arm across her chest, resting against her shoulders in a protective hug. He inhaled deeply. "Such sweet intoxication."
They watched themselves sway naturally to the melody, silent for a moment.
"Touch me," He whispered and almost on command, Christine's hand rose to touch the side of his face, caressing the cool material of the mask, " Trust me, my muse. You alone can make my music fly…" His hand rose to shadow hers, hovering over her delicate skin. Slowly, his hand descended upon hers and he took his time to lower their hands, dragging them down her shoulder, brushing against the side of her breast and moved all the way down to her waist.
Christine shivered. Her unblinking doe eyes followed their hand's path like she was hypnotized. When his hand reached her waist, she abandoned the mirror and turned her head to the side, looking up into his feral eyes.
Their eyes locked. This time it was Erik's turn to initiate the kiss. Leaning in, his lips brushed hers slowly, deepening with each kiss, his eyes shutting as his passion consumed him.
She met each kiss with one of her own. She let his hands trail over stomach as she turned to face him. Raising onto her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel the quick staccato beat of his heart as her chest pressed into his.
Erik sighed as he eventually broke the kiss, caressing her cheek, his breath coming quickly as he held her there. His voice was intense as he spoke to her. "I need you..I must take you," he growled, an edge to his voice, lust and obsession mixing.
"Please," she whimpered, gripping onto his lapels and pulling him to the bed. "I need you!" Her shyness all but forgotten, she sat on the bed and pulled his tall form over her.
He moved over her, his lips meeting hers again deeply. He lay her back, his form pressing against her. He craved her, and desired to feel more of her beauty. A curse would escape his lips when he felt the bonding of the corset, and this caused him to pull back, removing his own jacket and searching over her dress to free her bound form.
Christine smiled at his frustration and arched her back to help guide his hands to the stays in her dress. She let him undress her, wanting his hands on her body for as long as possible.
He kneeled on the edge of the bed, unlacing straps where he found them, actually taking care to not tear the dress in his eagerness. There were so many damned layers! It only served to make him more feral, unable to keep his lips off of hers, or her cheek, or neck, in the process.
Her dress stripped off, Christine could feel Erik's fingers dip and tease underneath her corset. She rolled over and presented the ties to her corset to him, stretching her body long, her arms reaching over her head.
Erik moved with practice skill. "Christine...I've wanted you for so long," he growled as he pulled at the stiff material. He didn't want it off; he needed it off. Now.
It was all but ripped off of her body. She felt his hands run down her nude back. She turned around, facing Erik, needing to kiss him again.
He obliged that need, meeting her lips with a deep and growing passion. He pulled back, nearly tearing the bowtie from his neck, working at his tuxedo shirt, the metal studs clattering to the floor.
Christine reached out to help him tear his shirt from his body. She ran her hands down his muscled chest, scraping her nails over his nipples and down the flat plane of his abdomen.
He lowered his lips to her neck, then lower, sinking down over her full breasts as he teased her, lavishing attention on her skin.
Christine's hands slid back up his body to his hair, mindful of the mask, gripping tightly as his mouth worked her body. Her back arched and her hair fell out of its ribbons, spreading curls on the bed like a halo.
Erik's hands drifted further south, finally landing on her bloomers, shifting them lower and lower.
Christine helped wiggle out of the last of her clothes and impatiently grabbed at Erik's pants, clawing at the buttons clumsily.
He pulled off his shoes. His pants came off. Soon he was just as nude as her. Catlike eyes were glued to her, and his length was throbbing; pulsing with desire for his Christine.
She shivered as he looked at her. The anticipation was nearly painful. She backed up on the bed to give him room and he moved over her, kneeling before her. He took in her petite, short, curvaceous frame. "Christine...I.." he gasped, hands running up her legs, over her hips.
She didn't let him finish. Instead, she attacked his lips with her own, pulling him down on top of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she gripped at the back of his neck, pulling him closer, pressing her body into his. He kissed her deeply, climbing over her. His hips shifted as he felt himself teasing against her folds. He shivered, the anticipation of this moment nearly too much for him. He thrust, groaning as he slipped into her, his body finally joining with her.
She gasped loudly and threw her head back as he entered her. Panting, she moved her hips slightly, feeling him stretch her flesh and fill her completely. This was so different from the other times! Yes, she has not retained her maidenhood, but she had never actually wanted, needed intercourse the way she did now. It felt like she was about to burst in the most heavenly of ways.
Tears leaked from her eyes as she pinched them shut. She met his slow thrusts with jerky, impatient ones, completely taken over with desire and whatever patience he had had fled from him swiftly. He began thrusting more intently, hard, a hand gripping her hip, another shifting down to her breast as he rose up slightly more onto his knees. This brought Christine's bottom off of the bed, deepening the angle, bringing a cry to her lips. The sounds of their skin slapping against each other only made Christine more frenzied, more wonton, as she returned each thrust in full.
And it was inevitable. Christine opened her eyes and the feral look in Erik's drove her over the edge. Screaming, she clutched to him as the waves of her orgasm washed through her,
leaving her trembling in his arms.
When she began to come down, he slowed his thrusting a fine layer of sweat forming over him. Still, he was not satisfied, and he held her by the hips as he rolled over, Drawing her body on top of his, mounting him.
She was breathless, but the feel of him inside of her as she straddled him quickly gave her her second wind. She pressed her hands on his chest and rolled her hips, drawing an impassioned cry from him.
He gasped her name, and as she glanced down, she noticed that his mask would have shifted in the tumbling, revealing slivers of his scarred face. So lost was he in his passion that he did not notice it.
But Christine indeed noticed the mask slipping, revealing a jagged lip and red, irritated skin and she smiled down at him, thinking him beautiful.
Hands raked up her sides, to her breasts; his hips rising to meet her. Suddenly, he'd switch his grip, his hands lowering to her ass, allowing him to thrust freely, wildly. He felt himself tighten, his climax building. Erik felt the world fall away as he orgasmed in her. Moaning her name, he shook and then collapsed on top of her.
They stayed that way for a few minutes, breathing heavily, neither one willing to part yet.
Finally he carefully shifted so they fell onto their sides, still holding one another.
"Christine..."
His mask was still askew, but Christine didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.
She smiled an exhausted, lazy smile to him. "Erik…" she whispered back.
"I don't think lll ever let you return to the surface." He growled a bit possessively, still buried inside of her as they laid there.
"I may not leave whether you want it or not," she joked lightly. She felt him grow soft within her and felt him slip out, but still neither of them moved.
Minutes, or hours, or lifetimes later, a sudden flash of movement broke the scene and suddenly Christine's vision was filled with the smushed, black face of a long-haired Persian Cat.
Christine blinked at the animal and it blinked back at her, curiously. "You have a cat?" She asked in disbelief.
"Ayesha, get down," Erik scolded the animal. "Yes, and she's in your face," he growled, though he didn't have the heart to pull the cat away. "She is good company, though not quite the same as having you here."
As they lay there, he finally grew aware that his mask was off of his face. Quickly, he reached up to fix it back into place. A few moments would pass in blissful silence before he spoke.
"You saw me...the mask...it moved..and you did not recoil even when we were joined as we were.."
Christine finally rolled away, onto her stomach to look at him. She studied him for a moment before shifting once more, sitting up and bending her knee to show him an ugly scar racing up the inside of her thigh. "I'm not perfect either," she said simply.
Eric traced a hand over that scar, slowly studying it. "How did you get that?"
Christine remained quiet for a moment. "A boy I once knew. In the country. He was the son of an aristocrat and terribly spoiled. He liked to rough house with the staff, whether they were ready to fight back or not…" she trailed off for a moment, staring into nothing. "He pushed me down a hill once, in the woods. I was badly scratched up and my leg was nearly ripped open by tree branches. I was lucky not to have gotten a deadly infection."
Erik frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. Pathetic little boys do not deserve such treasures as you. It is good that you are away from the country and such silliness." He leaned in to kiss her shoulder tenderly as he spoke. "Still, I don't think that your scars are as disfiguring, Christine...yours does not make you a monster."
"Perhaps not as severe, but am I less human for having it?"
"No, not at all." He responded, simply, pulling back to meet her gaze.
"So then, monsieur, would this be called a double standard or hypocrisy?" She smiled playfully and kissed the tip of his mask's nose.
He gave her a wry smirk and kissed her cheek. "It would be comparing pond to an ocean," he responded, adding "but I understand your point."
"Water under the bridge," she joked.
Ayesha let out a soft cry, butting her head against Christine's hand. Christine barked a laugh and pet the fluffy animal. "Erik, why haven't I seen Ayesha before? I've practically lived down here for weeks!"
"She is a cat. They are wonders at hiding. Besides, she comes and goes as she pleases. We've been easy companions...well, for years," he explained, petting the animal.
"Fitting, with your eyes, I suppose." She studied his yellow irises for a moment. "Do you see as well as cats can in the dark?" she asked curiously, tilting her head.
"I don't know if it is because I have lived in darkness for most of my life or because of my eyes. But, yes, I can see better in the dark. Sometimes bright sunlight is even a little bit sensitive to me."
She shook her head with an unbelieving smile. "You're truly special, Erik." With one more caress his his face, Christine rolled to sit up, then inhaled sharply. Blushing a bit, she murmured, "I should clean up in the bathroom."
"Of course," he said, sitting up as well. "It's around the corner there… in case you forgot," He replied. She rose to go and he watched her, admiring every inch of her perfect body.
After she returned from cleaning up, she found a gorgeous white lace robe waiting on the bed for her. Erik was nowhere to be seen, but Christine smiled as she fingered the expensive material. Pulling it on and tying it tightly about her waist, she drew back the curtain barrier that acted as a door and padded her way to the main chamber.
He was wearing a dark oriental robe and was in the process of crossing toward her. He kissed her softly. "Stay with me tonight, Christine," he asked, tracing his hands over her sides.
"Of course," she crooned, leaning into his touch. She smirked slyly and and yanked the tie from about his waist, pulling him closer while simultaneously undoing his robe. She pulled him back into the bedroom as the robe fell from his shoulders.
When Erik woke, he felt a body pressed into him. Not just any body. Christine's form. An arm was cradling her head, his other arm resting on the flare of her hip. He felt her stir against him. He responded by tracing soft kisses against her shoulder and neck, the stubble of the morning teasing her skin.
Christine shivered and relaxed at his touch, the hazey confusion of sleep leaving her, being replaced with a feeling of safety and contentment. After a few more minutes of staying in this cocoon of bliss, Christine shifted and rolled onto her stomach, her nude chest reacting to the sudden coolness of the air. She looked up into Erik's eyes and smiled.
His eyes were fixed to her chest, but quickly raised and he leaned over to find her lips, kissing them softly. "Good morning. You slept well, I hope?" he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
She hummed in contentment and snuggled into him more closely. "I thought it was a dream," she said softly, "A wonderful, wonderful dream."
"No, it isn't a dream. Though of course the downside is that I do not have anything for breakfast for you. Last night was... unexpected...A welcome surprise." He traced more kisses along her jaw, loving every moment with her and Christine relaxed with a contented purr.
"I don't normally eat breakfast. I am usually rushing to rehearsal-" her eyes popped open in alarm. "Rehearsal! I promised Monsieur Andre that I would come to rehearsal to say goodbye to the chorus—" she stopped dead, her mouth frozen in a petrified 'o'. "I… am supposed to leave for Italy in a fortnight."
He kissed her once more before pulling back. "Then I suppose we should get you back to the surface before they begin to look for you," he offered with a soft, slightly sad, smile. He paused, adding. "I have contacts in Italy. I can see that you are well cared for when you are away.."
She dropped her eyes and nodded reluctantly. "Thank you for this, Erik. For everything. I lo-" She stopped and renewed her smile for him. "I appreciate everything you have done."
He nodded at that. "I...am grateful that we have been able to set things right. Things were not as they should be without you in my life," he replied tenderly.
She kissed him once more and rose to dress in a fresh gown - goodness, just how many dresses does this man own? I've never seen the same one twice! She thought to herself.
Reluctantly, Christine announced that she was ready to return to the surface so she could catch the second half of rehearsal.
In truth, Eric had been preparing - far more than fantasizing - about this day for quite some time. He led her to the surface, returning her right to the mirror he had taken her from. "Christine...If you ever wish to see me...Simply call for me in front of this mirror, and I will be there." He murmured quietly, reluctant to let her go.
Christine paused in the passageway, halfway in reality, halfway in eternal night. She looked back at him with a smile in her eyes. "You best keep your ears open, then."
He granted her one final kiss, lingering there, before he stepped back. "Until then, Mlle. Daaé."
