The Perfect Solution
An Alternate Universe – Phantom of the Opera Story
Nyasia A. Maire
© 2007
Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to Anne Burnside, Darkest Aminta, DonJuanTriumphs, Erik'sBelleNoire, GerrysJackie, JustBFree, Lady Rosesong, poetzproblem, Wandering Child and Waytoointoerik -- each and every one of you inspire me. You write scenes of love and passion in such a way that titillates, entices, captivates and enchants me. Your excellence spurs me ever onwards in my humble attempts to create a love scene worthy of Erik and Christine's passion ... Thank you!!! --ny
This chapter contains sexually explicit material!
It is NOT intended for persons under 18 years of age.
I warned you!
The explicit section is marked with "XXX" preceding and following the material.
(But …. Hey, it's okay! Erik and Christine are married now!)
DISCLAIMER: I do not hold the rights nor did I create any characters found in The Phantom of the Opera or Phantom, nor have I received monetary compensation for writing this story.
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
William Butler Yeats
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Tread Softly, My Love
"You may kiss your bride."
With trembling hands, he lifted the veil from Christine's face. He pulled her close to him and pressed her body into his. She lifted her face to him and he took the lips she offered.
And, thusly passed the opera ghost into oblivion.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
In stark contrast to the sublime serenity of the wedding, the ceremony's aftermath skirted dangerously along and sometimes crossed into the realm of frenzied chaos. Swept apart by the small, but forceful wave of friends and family, Christine and Erik faced a barrage of tears, kisses, hugs, laughter, slaps on the back and heartfelt wishes of congratulations. When Erik at last caught Christine's eye, he noticed the look of peaceful bliss in her eyes was gone and in its place, she wore the look of a wild animal caught in a trap.
"No! This simply will not do! I will not have her remember this night with anything other than bliss. I am her husband and she is my wife. We must take care to one another. She is a solitary being, perhaps if …."
His mind raced for a moment and his brow furrowed in thought then lifted as a plan took shape in his mind.
"Of course! All I have to do is …."
"Attention! May I have everyone's attention?"
Erik held out his hand to Christine and she gratefully made her way to him. She took hold of his hand, the strength of her grip surprising him with its ferocity. He almost allowed his eyes to drift closed as he felt her body press against his, her warmth melding perfectly with his own. He snapped his eyes open and focused his attention on the group of people now waiting to hear what he wanted to say to them.
"My wife and I thank you for sharing the happiest moment of our lives, well, thus far anyway. If you will return to the carriage, it will transport you to our home. We would like to continue our celebration there as well as offer all of you some refreshments. So, will you honor my bride and me by accepting our invitation?"
A chorus of assents assaulted their ears as the press of people swept from the vestibule, through the doors, onto the street and into the awaiting carriages.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
"Would you grant me the honor of allowing me to assist your entry into the carriage, Madame Destler?"
Christine felt a thrill run through her body as the velvety smoothness of her husband's voice caressed her ears.
"His voice alone makes me burn and tingle. I cannot imagine how the combined sound of his voice and the touch of his hands will make me feel. Surely, anything that exhilarating must be sinful! And, if this is sin then I am most definitely and gladly going to hell!"
She stifled the giggle, disguising it as a clearing of her throat. Erik cocked his head, awaiting her reply. She blushed and held out her hand to him.
"Oui, Monsieur."
The pair settled next to one another on the seat, one unconsciously leaning into the other. Erik fingered Christine's gown.
"Madame, might I inquire as to the origin of this gown? It is magnificent! You are a stunning vision of loveliness!"
Christine's eyes searched her spouse's face with surprise and smirked.
"Madame Giry brought it to the cathedral. This is my mother's wedding gown. I must admit I was most concerned over her reaction to our nuptials, but the simple fact of her bringing me this dress, allays all of my fears. She approves and so, without any doubts whatsoever do I."
"Your mother's dress? But, it fits you perfectly … are you … well, I mean to say, I did not realize that you resemble your mother that closely." He stammered.
"I do not. In looks, I take after my father. My mother was taller, her shape more voluptuous than mine. However, I am most fortunate in that I reside in an opera house that employs a staff of seamstresses. Madame brought the gown to her friend, Chloe Arneau. She is a rather talented and quick seamstress. She altered the fit of the dress, updated the bustle and train and added these seed pearls on the bodice. A nice touch, do you not think so, Erik?"
Her voice almost purred the question and her hand ran suggestively over her bodice. She looked into his eyes and continued.
"Why do you make me feel so wanton? I hardly know myself any longer. Your love has changed me into a brazen seductress, Erik! And, I am glad of it, and yet, at the same time, I worry for I fear my inexperience will disappoint you …."
He swiftly cut off her words.
"Ma chèri, you could never disappoint me and I will confess I am just as inexperienced as you. Tonight, we will teach each other how to pleasure one another. We shall explore the joys of the flesh as one. I do love you so, ma chèri."
In response to his passionate declaration, she shivered and chuckled as she felt the gooseflesh prickle the tiny hairs on her arms. He grinned and took her into his arms in an embrace made awkward only by the clothing they wore, not by the joy in their hearts. The two remained silent and blissfully entwined for the remainder of their ride home.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
She stood in the shadows of the ballroom with her arms folded across her thin chest. Her normally severe features softened by the look of gentle happiness she wore. Elaine had served Erik Destler for seven years and she had never seen the man so at ease among people. She continued her appraisal of the man who was her employer and her friend and realized she had never seen him wear such a genuine smile before now.
"This is truly a miracle. He is happy. Really and truly happy. And, he is in love. I am relieved that Madame … Christine is such a nice young lady. Yes, this marriage is a blessed event. I am unsure why I feel as I do, but they seem to complete one another somehow."
She started as her train of thought suddenly had another female voice interrupting it.
"You care for him, do you not?"
She turned to the sound of the voice and looked into eyes of steely blue-gray, eyes that seemed made for coldness rather than the warmth that now suffused them.
"Yes, I do. He is as a son to me, although if you were to tell him I said this, I would deny it with my dying breath."
The two women smirked.
"I am Antoinette Giry, Christine's guardian. And, you are?"
"I am Elaine Mallery, Monsieur Destler's housekeeper. It is a pleasure to meet you. May I say that Christine is a lovely girl? You must be very proud."
"Yes," she nodded with only the slightest hint of sadness in her eyes, "I only wish that her father could have been here. He would be so pleased to know she has found such a good man."
"Her father rests with the angels? Ahhh … I wondered at the sadness buried deep in her eyes. That explains it. She wishes him here this night. Well, it seems that neither of them have had an easy life. Let us hope that their union will allow them to heal one another's hurts and they will have a life of true happiness."
Madame Giry lifted her chin, her eyes softened.
"I do believe they have a guardian angel standing watch over them now. We may, at long last set our worries free. They are our charges no longer. Our children are grown."
The two women smiled and nodded as their eyes caressed the newlyweds with glances full of maternal love.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
"Bonne nuit!"
The words rang out in a ragged chorus as the small group of well-wishers entered the carriage. Just before he entered the carriage, Phillipe turned to Erik and winked.
"Do not forget, Erik."
"I shall not forget, Phillipe. I shall never forget. Thank you!"
Christine, wrapped within the safe circle of her husband's arms, turned to him.
"And, just what is it that you shall not forget?" She arched a speculative eyebrow at him.
He smiled lovingly at her and murmured.
"Oh, ma chèri, I shall show you shortly."
He returned his attention to the carriage and lifted his hand in a gesture of farewell to the conveyance, which held their friends and loved ones. The driver snapped the reins and the carriage slowly began to rumble away into the night. The couple sighed in unison, startling each other. He chuckled and she blushed prettily. As the carriage vanished out of sight around a corner, Erik closed the front door. He gently pulled his wife from his side to face him.
"Alone at last."
He lowered his mouth to hers and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips then pulled back.
"Christine, are you ready to retire to our room?"
He spoke with a studied nonchalance that could not belie the true meaning of his query.
She felt a chill of apprehension run through her body at the mention of their room, but as soon as she looked up into his eyes, all fear melted as she recognized her husband mirrored her nervousness about their wedding night. She flashed what she hoped was a seductive grin.
"Yes, my husband. Please show me what it is that I am never to forget."
He laughed and suddenly whirling her about, lifted her in his arms. Then, without another word, carried her across the foyer, up the stairs, down the hall and into his bed chamber. Without setting her down, he hooked the door with his heel and swung it closed.
The door shut with a resounding thump in the now still house.
Elaine smiled as she heard Erik's bedroom door close and after turning down the gas lamps in the foyer, she disappeared into the darkness.
♥ ♫ ♥ ♫ ♥
With Christine safely cradled in his arms, Erik leaned back against his bedroom door. She snaked her hands up his chest, ran them over his shoulders and as she cupped the back of his head firmly in her hands, she pulled his lips to hers. Her innocent kiss quickly evolved into one of passion and soon, Erik ran his tongue along her bottom lip in an unspoken request to deepen their kiss, which Christine granted with a low moan of desire. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he lovingly entangled it with hers. Slowly, they explored the liquid chasms, only separating to draw breath before plunging to join their mouths once more. Erik trembled and cried out as he felt Christine gently rake her pinkie's fingernail behind the outer shell of his ear. He gazed down at her amazed at how this simple touch enflamed him.
"How did you know?" He gasped.
Her brown eyes burned and reflected flecks of sienna and amber in the room's candlelight. Her passion-swollen lips smiled.
"Well, it felt good to me when you did it to me, so … turn about is fair play. Is it not?" She whispered huskily.
He responded by stumbling to the bed. He carefully sat down, never releasing her from the cradle of his embrace. He rained kisses upon her face and pulled away to worship her with his gaze. Their eyes met.
"Erik, touch me. Put your hands on me. Please? I need to feel you touching me."
Her low voice carried a barely controlled need and the desire he read in her eyes proved to be his undoing. He growled and laid her next to him on the bed. His eyes drank in the sight of her wild curls, flushed cheeks, panting mouth, burning eyes. His gaze swept down her long, elegant neck and lingered at her heaving bodice. He lay on the bed next to her, leaning on his forearm and began to grant her pleas. His hand rose above her face and he placed his talented fingers on her forehead. He slowly moved, first his fingers and then his palm over the surface of her face, outlining the oval of her countenance with the edge of his palm. Her lips parted and his thumb caressed the fullness offered him. He froze as her mouth begged and lips trembled.
"Erik! Please?"
He stared into her eyes. Eyes that radiated need, but also confusion. His innocent sylph wished for him to touch her, but did not know how to tell him. Fortunately, Erik's earlier conversation with Phillipe provided him a primer on what his bride required of him. He pushed himself up from his reclining position on the bed, pressing his index finger to Christine's lips to silence her anticipated protest. He sat next to her and cupping her face between his hands, began to move them slowly down her neck to rest on the cloth covered mounds of her breasts. His hands explored and swirled across the twin orbs, caressing them singly and in tandem. As the rise and fall of her chest increased and the sound of her breathing became more ragged, he gained confidence and allowed his hands to continue their journey further down her body to her waist, then hips and finally, to cup her womanly center. They gasped, Christine from the pleasure his hand brought to her and Erik from her unconscious arching of her hips to press herself more firmly against his hand. The pair's eyes met and their thoughts passed from one to the other and back again with ease.
"Ma chèri?" He almost moaned.
"Oui?" She breathed.
"Roll over."
Her eyes held a look of confusion for just a moment before understanding flooded them and she grinned at him almost wickedly. Stretching her arms above her head, she gracefully twisted her body and surprised Erik by somehow ending up on her stomach without touching her billowing skirts.
"Amazing! Madame, you could have been a prima ballerina with moves such as that."
Turning her face to the side, so she could look into her husband's eyes, she smirked at him.
"You have no idea, Monsieur. However, I would be most pleased to provide you with a private audition …."
Her words, cut short by the sudden flurry of his hands tugging at the laces of her gown, evolved into bell-like tinkles of laughter.
"That tickles!"
However, Erik could not stop. He needed to see her. He needed to continue his exploration of the woman lying on his bed. The playful teasing, passionate kisses and caresses of the past days combined with the sight of her now bare back, enflamed him.
"Christine!"
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and slowly released it.
"Erik? Are you all right?"
He exhaled a shaky breath and shook his head.
"You are so beautiful. You are everything I could ever want. Are you certain that I am what you want? Stop me now, please! If you have any doubts, stop me now!" He panted.
She spoke no words, simply rolled over, stood from the bed and allowed her gown to slide to the floor to puddle at her feet. She turned to stand before him with her arms at her sides, clad only in her corset, pantalets and stockings. His head spun at the sight of her. She turned from him.
"Husband, please help me remove my corset." She turned her head to glance over her shoulder. "I wish to know what it is to be a wife, your wife."
XXX
He stood motionless, his mind reeling as the meaning of her words entered his consciousness, then he fell to the laces of her corset much as a wolf on its prey. His nimble fingers made short work of the ties and his fevered hands soon found the restricting garment joining the pool of tulle on the floor. He noticed her hands tugging at something near her waist. And, just as he spun her about, her pantalets slid to the floor as well. Resting a hand against his chest, she leaned down and tugged at the ties on her stockings. Her last pieces of clothing dropped to the floor. She stood before him with her arms at her sides and watched him take in the sight before him. After several moments of silence and still no movement on her husband's part, a blush stained her cheeks and then ran down her body to stop at the tops of her breasts. She lowered her eyes to the floor, but stubbornly refused to cover her body with her arms.
"Erik? I may be wrong, but I do believe that one of us is wearing way too many clothes."
Spurred into action by her words, Erik began to tear his clothes from his body. Christine reached out a calming hand and placed it on his arm.
"Here, let me help you."
She pulled the pin from his cravat and carefully placed it in the pocket of his suit jacket, then unknotted the silk at his throat. Tugging the silk slowly from around his neck, she allowed it to snake down the front of his body to join the growing pile of clothing. She slid her hands beneath his jacket up to his shoulders and pushed it off and down to the floor. His waistcoat soon followed. Cufflinks flew, buttons popped and Christine gasped, as her impatient husband ripped off his shirt.
She ran a hand over the heated flesh of his chest and gave her husband a shy smile of approval. His broad chest bore only a light dusting of dark hair, which trailed down to disappear at the waist of his trousers. Christine's eyes widened as she looked lower and saw the front of her husband's pants straining with a need to be undone. Her blush deepened, but she succumbed to her desire and reaching out her hand, caressed the bulge, which caused her husband to groan even louder. Smiling, she suddenly reached out and shoved him backwards. He surprised her for as he fell, he grabbed her wrist and she fell with him. They landed together, he on the bottom and she on top. His hands began moving all over her nakedness, gently squeezing, caressing, rubbing. When she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his trousers, he shouted.
"Christine!"
His hips pushed into her enveloping hand and she began slowly stroking him. In return, he immediately sought out her center and allowed his fingers to dip into her. She gasped.
"Erik!"
His fingers searched for the button, about which Phillipe had spoke. Gently parting her nether lips, he ran his fingers up and down when he suddenly felt the little nub pop up. He kissed her as they both caressed the parts of their bodies that cried out with the need to join. Erik felt the tightness gathering in his loins and gently took hold of Christine's wrist.
"Slowly, gently …." He murmured.
"Oh, Erik. Love me, please?" She purred.
He rolled her to his side and quickly removed his remaining clothes. He kissed his way down her body, pausing at the base of her neck, nuzzling at her breasts and then lowering himself to discover her most private of places. He sucked gently and flicked his tongue over her nub as he sent one, then two and, finally three digits into the heat of her wetness. Christine's hips rocked to meet each thrust of his fingers and her moans intensified. And, then Erik felt her internal walls tighten about his fingers and pulse. His cheeks and chin suddenly awash in the flood of her pinnacle. Her voice almost unrecognizable as she choked out his name.
"Oh, Erik, Erik, Erik, Erik!"
He pulled himself back up to look into her eyes and carefully brushed the curls from her face. He wiped the wetness from his face with the back of his hand and chuckled at his bride's embarrassment.
"Do not blush, ma chèri. I cannot imagine a sweeter wedding feast."
He rolled on top of her and staring deep into her eyes moved over her center. Never breaking eye contact he slowly entered her body, only stopping as he felt the proof of her virginity barring his progress. He began to withdraw, but gasped as Christine placed her hands on his buttocks and pulled him back. He plunged into her and he felt himself rip through her barrier. Their bodies now completely joined, he savored the tightness of her body. He waited for her to show him she wanted more, but she did not move.
"Christine?"
"Oh, Erik! I do not know what to do. Show me!"
The raw emotion in her voice spurred him into action and slowly he began to move in and out of her body. As he gave his mind over to the passion of his body, his thrusts became swifter and harder. Moans and gasps erupted from both the man and the woman as the rhythm of their love moved closer to its climax. Feeling Christine's legs wrap about his waist, Erik sank deeper into her body and the two screamed as they found their release.
"Erik! I love you!"
"Oh, Christine! I love you …."
XXX
Author's Note: Well, here it is! I hope you found Erik and Christine's wedding night as pleasant as they did! --ny