Hello and Happy Thanksgiving weekend if you celebrated. I'd hoped to have this chapter up days ago, but it didn't work out that way. My beta's been busy (we all have) so if there are terrible typos and grammar goof–ups, forgive me, dear readers. WARNING: This is a very mature chapter. Enjoy it, I know Erik will—Leesa

Re-cap: Erik and Gabrielle celebrate their respective birthdays and broach the subject of making love.

Ch-42 Erik's Prerogative

Erik opens the door to the sunroom, allowing me to enter before him, and then closes the door to the night. He crosses the room to raise the flame on the lamp, sits down, and pats the place next to him on the settee.

I sit in the assigned spot, smooth out my skirt, fold my hands in my lap and begin to pick nervously at my cuticles.

Say something please! My mind screams.

Erik reaches over, pulls my hands apart and takes one of them in his. I glance at his face and he flashes me a warm smile. "So Gabrielle, you wish to make love to me do you?"

My insides turn to jelly.

"'Yes," I whisper hoarsely.

"Is this something you choose to do for me or for yourself?"

"Both, really." Why are you torturing me with your questions?

He brushes an errant strand of hair from my face and cockes his head as if trying to discern what is bobbing about in my mind.

"Humm, "He nods thoughtfully. "Gabrielle, do you think it proper for us to consummate our relationship before we are properly wed?"

"Um, well sure—but only if you do." Since when did he become the etiquette police?

"To me, that is a promise stronger than the very ring on your finger. If I take you tonight, we will be bound together forever. Do you truly want that?"

I roll my eyes heavenward and sigh in exasperation. "Erik, I would not have said yes to your proposal yesterday if I didn't want you. You think I'm a tart don't you? Is it so wrong for me to desire you as much as I do? I love you. Stop torturing me."

"Oh Gabrielle, am I torturing you? My apologies dear, I need to be sure this is what you want. That I am what you want."

"You are all I want, Erik. Damn it man, what do I have to do? Please, don't allow your legitimate distrust of the human race to color your opinion of me. I am sincere about my intentions. Oh crap, I feel so stupid now...forget I said anything." I wish could rewind the past few moments.

"My love, I don't mean to make light of your longings. Every night it seems I dream of you, of us. I envision the two of us sealed together in the most torrent lovemaking a man can fathom. In my dream, I feel you from the inside. Make no mistake, my need for you is great, Gabrielle. And no, I do not think you are a tart. You are a passionate woman, and as unfathomable as it seems to me, I know you love me."

"Yep, I do."

Erik swivels around on the settee to face me full on. He grasps both of my shoulders and scans my face for hidden signals.

I lift my eyes to meet his in hopes that he can see sincerity in my gaze.

"Gabrielle, you know I have never been with a woman. I hope I will not disappointment you."

"Doubtful," I snort. "Why, your very blood is infused with passion, Erik. You're a master at foreplay and you improvise quite well, from here on out, it's a matter of simple just mechanics."

I nearly giggle at Erik's expression of self-gratification. He slides his right hand down my arm and traces his fingers lightly over the back of my hand.

"Gabrielle, promise yourself to me for eternity, swear you'll not regret giving yourself to me tonight." Erik's eyes glow with scorching intensity.

I met his gaze and punctuate my position by leaning in closer, "Erik DuPuis, I have never been surer of myself than I am now. I pledge myself to you in every way a woman can offer herself to a man. Got it?"

Erik's face flushes with affection and he offers me a most endearing smile.

"Then my dear, tell me, what do we don now?"

"Not that I am an expert—a female Don Juan or anything," I blush. "But I suppose you could open a bottle of wine, light some candles, undress, put on one of your silk robes and wait for me in your bed chamber while I change into something more suitable. Oh yes, and remove your mask."

I knew I was treading on delicate ground and cringed inwardly at this suggestion.

"No, Gabrielle. I cannot bear to have you look at my abhorrent face as while I make love to you."

"Erik, I love all of you. If I allow you to claim my body, the least you can do is surrender that mask. You know your face does not freak me out in the least."

"No."

"Erik, please?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Then no nookie."

"What?"

"You heard me, remove the mask, or no nookie, no booty, no sex, nada."

"Madame, that is outright blackmail!"

"Sure is."

"You're being stubborn and irrelevant."

"Me? I'm trying to communicate to you that I, Gabrielle Thomassen of the 21st century, prefer touching, kissing and seeing my lover's face to that bit of hard leather."

"You truly don't care do you? Astounding. I shall take the matter into consideration."

"Well, that will at least earn you second base..."

"What are you going on about now?"

"It's a baseball analogy; first base is kissing, second base is what we call touching the ta ta's—breasts, that is. Third base is below the navel and a home run is, well, you're a smart man, you can figure it out."

"Sounds rather juvenile."

"Quite, it's a school yard saying."

"I see."

Erik is stands and offers his hands to help me up. He pulls me into a heartfelt embrace.

"Gabrielle, I care for you in ways I never thought I could care for another person. I want you as my mate; I want you as my lover. If you are ready to consummate our love, than so be it my darling."

I nod my consent and surrender to Erik's kiss.

We separate and address each other with a smile some would call shy. Erik immediately straightens to his full height and once again is his masterful self.

"Now then, let's prepare for the remainder of our evening. I'll make a trip to the wine cellar; you do whatever it is women do. I shall be waiting for you in my bedroom. That is, unless you change your mind."

"Ha, not a chance mister," I toss him a saucy smile and progress to my boudoir.

And so here I am, in my bedroom, preparing myself to seduce and have sex with Erik Dupuis, 19th century composer, famous architect and, the infamous Phantom of the Paris Opera. I am as nervous as a virgin on prom night.

I check my reflection in the mirror. Make up and hair is still good; like most men, Erik likes hair loose and flowing. I grab the tooth powder by my pitcher and water bowl and do a quick brushing. Now, what piece of lingerie best suits this monumental occasion?

I have a choice of three sexy outfits from my New York trip. I open the bureau drawer; let's see there is the red mesh one; too slutty, a baby pink one; too innocent; and a black lace number for...well, anything. Black it is, I decide. I think it could be Erik's favorite color anyway.

Off go the dress, corset chemise and bloomers. On go the sheer black lace top with matching panties. It's cut low in the front and hugs my curves wonderfully, especially my breasts. Okay, I need a spritz of my favorite perfume, and dab of sheer pink lip-gloss.

I then slip into a black silk robe Erik gave me when I first came to live here...black silk for the hired help? That small detail should have tipped me off about his intentions.

Okay Gab, deep breaths, calm down, he is not the big bad wolf and you are not little red ridding hood. He's the virgin, not you.

Oh, damn, what time of month is it? Four days after my last cycle. Good, although there is a value pack sized box of Trojan's in Tony's unpacked luggage. I'll save those for later.

I open my door and walk into the hall. The trek to Erik's room seems longer than usual. Indeed, I am hot for him, but also nervous. Erik matters more to me than anyone I've ever known. I sincerely hope he is not disappointed with me.

All that stands between my lover and me now is a thick, dark hardwood door.

I rap lightly to announce my arrival. Erik's rich honeyed voice tells me to enter. I open the door slowly. He is standing next to the large bedside table and pouring a glass of red wine that he holds for me to take.

"Merci," I say, and then toss back a most un-lady-like gulp when he turns to pour a glass for himself.

Erik faces me again and I notice how his eyes twinkle. Seeing the white mask still in place on his right side is disheartening, but I decide not to press the matter.

We stand sipping our wine and eyeing one another curiously. I survey his room.

Many fragrant candles burn from nearly every tabletop, and I notice Erik has turned back the bedclothes and strewn pink rose pedals over the silken sheets.

I can sense Erik's nervousness. He approaches me and reaches out to touch my cheek. His fingers flutter lightly to the tip of my chin. He places a soft kiss on my lips and suggests we get comfortable.

When we hook arms, the shoulder of my gold and black lace robe slips down, exposing flesh. Erik pauses, I think he is going to kiss my shoulder; instead he growls and bites me, his jade eyes blazing with desire. I swat him playfully and pull away to pop onto his bed.

Sitting on his enormous bed, we talk about nothing—the weather, the wine, the food, music, etc.

Finally, he removes the wine glass from my hand and puts it on the bedside table next to his.

I take note of his appearance. Erik is amazingly well kept for a middle age man from the 19th century, but then Erik is a very active man who has kept away from the suns aging rays for so long, he looks years younger than most men of his age do. Erik is no apparition; he is a living, breathing healthy male who, up to this point, has managed to stay chaste.

Although his manners paint him as a refined Frenchman, I suspected a wild and untamed spirit lurks below the surface of his cool veneer.

Erik places an arm around me and urges me toward him. Sensuous warm lips slant over mine. Softly, slowly, Erik kisses me, he slips his tongue between my lips and I readily open up for him. His kisses are nothing short of mesmerizing. Our tongues swirl around in a silent cadence only the two of us hear.

He sighs deeply against my mouth and wraps his arms around me. I reciprocate, caressing his well-muscled arms through the smooth silk of his robe. Stealthy hands find their way to my breasts. He draws circles around my nipples with his graceful fingers, occasionally pinching them lightly. I whimper and brake free of his mouth to lick and nibble on the sensitive areas of his neck and earlobe.

"Gabrielle, "Erik moans; then he pushes me from him.

"What Erik; is something wrong?"

"Stand up," he orders in his dark velvet voice.

I do as I'm told and stand before him while he remains sitting up on the bed.

"Remove your robe."

Oh, we're playing this game. Obediently I shrug the lightweight garment from my shoulders. It slips to the floor. I feel naked standing before Erik in all my black-laced glory.

Erik takes a long drink of me. I imagine him running through his mind all the naughty things that we can do to one another.

"Good heavens, Gabrielle, you're beautiful."

Men have called me pretty before, even striking, but no one has ever called me beautiful.

"Come Gabrielle, I need to touch you," Erik demands.

Silently I approach him. "What's your pleasure Monsieur?" I ask coyly.

Erik rewards me with smile that speaks volumes of his intent to ravish me.

He runs his long fingers along the lace top, slowing at my nipples. The black satin laces of my top get untied by my lover who is delighted to have an unobstructed full view of my breasts.

Eventually his fingers find their way to the lace between my legs. Using the back of his hand, he urges me to open my thighs. I step out enough for him to slip his fingers between my upper thighs. With one long, slow move, he strokes me from back to front three times, his eyes never leave mine."

"You are most damp, Gabrielle. Is it possible you desire me, my love?" he croons.

I close my eyes and bite my lower lip, "Erik, you're making me insane."

"Good."

I move to get on the bed.

"Stay put," Erik's voice is gruff and demanding.

I oblige and he continues his teasing touch, that roguish smirk I so love never leaving his lips. He slips his hand into my black lace thong and fingers the soft, moist skin between my legs. Mon Diue woman, you are literally drenched."

He bends forward and covers one of my nipples with his hot mouth. He nuzzles at it, nipping and sucking hard. My nipples are extremely sensitive and what he is doing is more than I can take. I push his head away.

"What is it Gabrielle? Do you not like me to do that?"

"Oh I like it alright, it's just so intense." I don't give him time to reply. I whip the lace top off over my head, peel off the panties and toss them into a nearby arm chair.

"Now then my future husband, about that robe of yours. It's most fetching on you, but I want skin. Off with it this instant!"

Oh really, is the expression I receive. Erik pulls loose the silken tie of his Persian robe and shrugs it off. The expensive garment slithers to the floor.

There is Erik, magnificent in his naked glory. I eyeball him from head to toe. Erik's long legs and torso are lean and hard and dusted with masculine black hair. The master's hands bare graceful, long fingers.

Erik detests his face, but I think it most attractive; he has a decisively fine jaw line, and wonderful smoky jade green eyes the color of which I had never seen. His sensuous full mouth begs for kissing.

Then there is that part of his anatomy, which clamors for attention. Just below his navel, protruding from a dark brown tangle of hair is his glorious cock. Erik's sex is in proportion to the rest of his body, long and well muscled.

Unconsciously, I lick my lips.

"I see that my future bride approves."

I try to be the confident seductress, but I am somewhat embarrassed and turn my head with a soft laugh, "Yes, indeed she does, sweetheart."

"Kiss me, Gabrielle."

I move to meet his lips.

"Not there love," Erik glances downward.

"I see," I kneel before him and wrap my hands around his sex. Erik gently touches the back of my head, urging my closer.

I take him into my mouth, suckling him and swirling my tongue around his swollen head. Taking all of Erik in is difficult because of his extraordinary length, yet I manage, drawing him out slowly then plunging back in. The only sounds in the room are his tenor sighs of pleasure.

Suddenly he pushes my head away from him, "Gabrielle, Please…you must cease."

"But, why?"

With one swift movement, Erik lifts me up into his arms, carries me to the bed, and lays me onto the rose petal covered sheets.

"Because, I'd rather not share my release with you this way. Tonight I will make love to you as a husband does to his wife."

Erik is most serious in his declaration. I see the intent in his eyes; his voice is like bittersweet chocolate; rich, dark, sensuous, yet there is a touch of reserve in his demeanor. In spite of all the humiliation Erik had suffered in his life, he retains a proud dignity. I remind myself that although Erik may be worldly and wise, he is also a novice lover. He is a virgin and he is nervous.

I wiggled around in his bed enjoying the feel of the soft, fragrant petals on my skin.

"Erik, I adore the rose petals, they're a nice touch. You sure know how to woo a girl."

"Do I?"

"Hey, you got game."

"What?"

"Forgive me for if I seem flip. What I mean is that you are quite the romantic. In my time, my girlfriends would kill to have a man do the things you've done for me. So many men in the world are graced with picture perfect faces, but many of them, and being in the entertainment business I've met a bevy of them, are shallow, self-absorbed, horse's patooties."

"Then, you are complimenting me?"

"Very much so; you have a true appreciation for beauty Erik. Now, come here and kiss me on the lips my future husband."

The left side of the bed depresses when Erik settles his naked body next to mine. Silently we merge together entwining our arms, legs and tongues. My hands explore Erik's body discovering every nuisance, freckle, and dimple, noting the various textures of Erik's skin.

He slips his left hand under my buttocks and murmurs into my mouth about how soft I am. My sounds of pleasure increase his need. Gentle fingers venture to my secret garden, stroking the silken folds and dipping into my wetness. I inhale sharply when he slides a slick finger over the tiny bud.

"Erik, god you are so amazingly good at this. Do not stop, yes, good—faster, please," I plead.

He increases his strokes. I am seconds from release when he stops cold.

"Why did you stop?"

"Gabrielle, I want to feel your release with me imbedded inside of you."

"Don't worry about me Sweetheart; I recover pretty quickly for another, um, round. It is you who is tonight's guest of honor for induction into the wonderful world of copulation. Being the passionate type that you are, and having been so patient all of your adult life, It is your prerogative."

I smooth my index finger over his length of his cock. "I'll wager that your guy there will say to hell with patience when he finally enters the tunnel of love. In fact I expect it, I encourage it."

As a virgin, I knew Erik wouldn't last more than a nano second the first few times.

"I've envisioned our bodies slick from the exertion of dancing within the silken sheets of my bed. My sex, not my fingers, is cradled deep within you, Gabrielle. Thinking of such things keeps me from slumber many a night."

Did I just whimper?

Caressing his shoulders lightly, I stare at him. I want him in the worse way.

"Gabrielle, my reading tells me of the importance of a woman's readiness for intercourse, I assume from your considerable wetness you are."

"Yes, Erik."

He picks up a pink rose petal and presses it to his lips. He runs it over my lips, down my neck and between my breasts. Softly, slowly he taunts my nipples with the soft petal. I jump when he passes the flower fragment over the ticklish skin of my hipbone. "Whoa, ticklish spot alert."

"Is it now?" he grins.

I giggle and writhe swatting away his hand.

"Someday I'll discover the one ticklish spot on your body, then you will pay the price for your torment!"

"It is highly unlikely that you'll ever find such a spot on my tenacious exterior."

"Ah, but we all have our weaknesses, isn't that what you always say?"

"How true, and I invite you to tickle me...go on, be my guest, dear."

Wise ass, I thinkbut at least this bit of levity has broken the ice.

"Some other time perhaps. Tonight is for pleasure, mainly yours, monsieur."

"Gabrielle, you are a lovely woman. Your skin is like silk and your body, magnificent. I cannot believe you are mine."

"All yours," I purr.

I kissed his nose, lips and cheeks; then looked into his eyes. "I am ready for you if you are ready for me."

"What is my best course of action, darling?"

"Simply lie atop me and kiss me like you've done numerous time before," I instruct Erik lovingly.

"Gabrielle, have you considered...precautions?"

Just like a man to leave it to the woman.

How much do you know about female bodies, Erik?" I ask because I know people of Victorian times knew so little about the female reproductive system. Hell, most of them didn't believe women had orgasms!

"Being of a curious nature, I've read a great deal on the subject. Why do you ask?"

"Because I am in the early portion of my cycle, which lasts about twelve days. It would be highly unlikely if you were to impregnate me now."

Erik winced at the word, impregnate.

"Forgive me, I know in your time people are sensitive to speaking so honestly of such things. Where I come from, babies are just a normal fact of life."

"I suppose it's as it should be. Whatever happens darling, it will be alright, that I promise you."

Erik leans against my body, pushing me into the soft mountain of down pillows.

"Erik, would you consider removing your mask, for me? Tonight is a night of firsts for us, it would please me greatly to kiss both sides of your face." I request in my most honeyed voice.

My plea makes an impression on him. Erik rises on one elbow, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He reaches with his left hand to pluck the mask from the right side of his face. With eyes still closed, he removes the leather and places it on the table next to the bed.

Sensing his unease, I reach up and lovingly cradle Erik's face in my hands.

I kiss his forehead, his deformed eyelid, nose and cheek, and move to his lips. Erik returns the affection; placing light staccato kisses on my lips. Between smooches, I declare my love for him. Erik opens his eyes he looks fearful. I smiled broadly at him.

"Much better."

Erik flashes me a wary smile, draws my hand to his mouth and kisses my palm.

I reach down to stroke him. He instantly springs to life, becoming stiff and solid in my hand. I use the lubrication from his tip to slide my fingertips over the sensitive ridge. He hisses through clenched teeth.

Again we fall into the pillows. Erik and I touch, stroke and fondled and kiss each other's bodies until we're both panting with intense need.

"I can take this no more," he growls darkly. "I must have you Gabrielle." The lust in his voice sends shivers of delight through my body.

"Then have me, sweetheart."

Erik rolls on top of me and I pull up my legs and open them wide for him. His sits back on his haunches, taking his swollen cock in his left hand. He purses his lips and hesitates. I reach to part the delicate lips shielding his entry. Erik's chest rises and falls rapidly, while he takes in the sight of my wet pink road to nirvana.

"Now Erik," I whisper.

He guides his sex to my opening. I feel the softness of his flesh, then pressure, Erik is pushing into me.

I gasp; Erik leans over me and locks his eyes with mine.

"Love me Gabrielle."

"Let me."

My love grips my hands and moves slowly into my passage. I'm very tight and Erik is not a small fellow; he stretches me fully and at first there is some momentary discomfort, which passes once I adjust to his welcome intrusion.

"Mon dieu, un tel ecstacy, Gabrielle!"

"Ummm yes, Erik, this feels amazing."

Erik stills. I can feel him pulsing inside of me. I stroke his hair while he gathers his composure. ""It's okay baby, take your time, do whatever you like. You won't hurt me," I reassure him.

"Are you certain? You are most tight. I wish to pleasure you, not cause you pain."

"Don't worry Erik, I'm plenty wet, you'll fit nicely. Keep pushing into me, I won't break."

With a considerable thrust Erik enters me fully. His breathing becomes frantic, and he begins to moan, "Gabrielle, mon dieu, you...you are so warm and slippery and tight—like warm velvet. I might well die from this new sensation."

Erik draws out of me partially then pushes back in. My sex clutches around him causing him to cry out to me,

"Gabrielle—what are you; a celestial being? No mere woman can feel like, like this!"

"I'm not a mere woman, I am your woman, Erik."

Fire blazes in his green eyes, his lips form a satisfied smile and he thrusts into me—hard.

I suck in a sharp breath and my insides melt with the bliss of pure physical pleasure.

Draping my legs around his backside, I gyrate up against his pelvis.

Even thought I am not working toward my own release, the sensation of Erik's cock inside me is intense. It rubs and stimulates my interior perfectly, sending dizzying waves of pleasure coursing through my core.

I whimper with his every thrust. "Erik, you feel amazing," I say and then involuntarily tighten around him.

Erik stiffens and begins pumping into me vigorously. He's moaning loudly as he rides me and I can tell by the concentration in his eyes his release is near.

"Come on, baisez-moi, Erik," I say brazenly.

He stares at the headboard of his bed, mouth open and panting as if he were running up hill. Suddenly, he squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back. Every muscle in his neck and shoulders flex and strain. Erik cries out my name over and over again like a mantra as his sex convulses. His release is violent and intense, pumping his considerable release into me, mingling with my juices.

I clutch him with my sex and with my arms as he enjoys the final vestiges of his orgasm.

Erik's spent and sweaty body collapses onto mine. He's panting into my hair and it takes my usually resilient man a good five minutes to find his voice.

"Gabrielle, my little vixen-angel. In my wildest fantasies, I never imagined how delicious you would feel wrapped around me. When can we do it again?"

"Whenever the urge hits you," I laugh and kiss his right cheek.

"That is certainly good news. But I think we should rest first."

"It has been a day filled with firsts hasn't it Erik?"

"Indeed."

I inhale his musky scent and smile to myself."

"I love you, Gabrielle."

"…And I love you, Happy birthday Erik."

I think he has fallen asleep.

- O -

I am thankful for you readers. I am really thankful for the reviews. Note to new readers; the first few chapters have some incorrect punctuation I need to go back and fix; thanks for your patience. Now, please review or I will cry (boo hoo, huh?) —Leesa

Mon dieu, un tel ecstacy: My god such ecstasy.

baisez-moi: Look it up.