Disclaimer: I own everything. Except for everything I wish I owned... which includes all of these characters etc. =P They belong to Gaston Leroux!

~Chapter twelve~

Erik could see how scared Christine was. It brought a blush to her face and tears glistened in her eyes. She was so beautiful. He could see that she was standing against the bookshelf, with nowhere else to go and his darker side took hold of him. He made her feel even more trapped with one hand on either side of her, he then leaned his devil face close to her. So close he could smell her faint perfume and see the quick pulse on her neck.

"Erik you're scaring me…" she quietly whispered this time, too afraid even to say something to his disliking out loud. He smiled then to himself… and had an inner struggle about whether or not he should let her go this time. But he decided against it. Besides, he might even enjoy this. He took his right arm and pressed the pitchfork against her breast, he could see the points of it push down on her soft breast against the fabric. He then used it to push up her chin so she had to face him.

"I believe we forgot about our wedding kiss… and you know nothing can restrain Erik, not even Erik himself…" he mumbled and she could hear him breathe heavily, as if he was trying to put a strain on himself, from the anger or from the sexual tension, she couldn't tell which. She however firmly closed her eyes and whispered "I'm not kissing the devil Erik…"

Lost in his own thoughts Erik didn't hear her. He was too fascinated by her long eyelashes and that lovely shade of her cheeks.

" What was that Christine, I didn't hear you… surely you're not afraid of your little husband…" he mumbled again and this time, if possible, it sounded as if he had gotten even closer. Christine still refused to open her eyes and just repeated "I'm not kissing the devil!" She then heard a strange sound, almost like a grunting noise and if she didn't know any better she would have thought he was laughing at her!

"Oh, Christine… my dearest Christine… we will all meet him sooner or later. I do admit in my case it's probably sooner rather than later, but even wicked Swedish blondes can't escape the Dark Lord Christine." Christine swallowed hard and felt the tip of the pitchfork digging into the sensitive skin under her chin as she did so. "I am not wicked, you mustn't think that." She said, but heard that it came out like a whimper so she repeated it louder and decided to open her eyes and turn towards him as she did so. She couldn't give up so easily, so she yelled "I am not wicked!"

When she opened her eyes she saw him completely transformed. She even had to blink a couple of times to realize it was real. Somehow, although she didn't know how or when, Erik had changed masks, not taking his arms away from her sides, and now he had the saddest Poirot mask on and it looked as if it was crying. No more red horns on his forehead, just black tears going down his cheeks with some small, diamond shaped mirrors here and there. Now she noticed that the pitchfork was gone too. She looked for it on the floor but it was nowhere in sight. When she had her head turned down she felt Erik's cold fingers tilt her head back up again.

"Erik you must believe me I'm really sorry for what I did." He hushed her and let his fingers slowly slide down her neck to the point where her pulse was beating. Something strange happened then, it must have been the adrenaline rush he had just put her through because she was feeling somewhat aroused by the sensation.
"I know Christine, but you must learn once and for all never to disobey me again like that! How else am I supposed to trust you? I must know that your heart is pure." When he said ´heart´ he moved his hand down her chest and placed it over her heart. The cool hand felt nice against her burning skin and she tried to relax somewhat. He seemed to have calmed down again. He was so changeable!

"I promise never to disobey you again. If I had known what it was I would have never..."
"Erik have secrets you will never know Christine, dark secrets that are best kept hidden forever. But just trying to find them out will cost you…" Erik said and dared himself to slide his hand down to her breast as she started to breathe quicker again when he reached the nipple.

"What?"

"That wedding kiss." he said and looked deeply into her eyes, challenging her to say no. It was almost like a chicken race. She knew she couldn't back down unless she wanted to see him angry again. And now it was her move.