Wonderful reviews! I am pleased to know that you liked the perevious chapter, this is a continuation, therefore has another Mature rating. Thank you for continuing to read my story and to review.--Leesainthesky
Re-cap: Un-cork the champagne, Erik gets some, finally…
Ch 43 - Gabrielle's Prerogative
It's sometime in the early morning of June 12, 1877. Yesterday was my birthday; I was born in the year 1976 and am no longer a twenty-something woman. The usual horrors of turning thirty have no power over me-I've recently made love to my new fiancéé, the famous 19th century composer and architect, Erik DuPuis. Though hardly an innocent, Erik is no longer a virgin.
He still sleeps. A summer thunderstorm is moving through the French countryside and I can smell the scent of ozone wafting in on the breeze through the bedchamber's open windows. The candles have extinguished themselves, but the flame on the lone gas lamp next to Erik's bed still dances with the breeze.
These elements of nature, which my senses perceive, reflect how I feel-fresh, new and bright.
Erik lay beside me curled on his right side, his left profile facing me. He is snoring softly, something he does often, since his deformed nostril causes him some problems from time to time.
His countenance is relaxed-peaceful. It is with love that I gaze upon my amative, vibrant man. This retro-century hell of mine has turned the corner to offer up promising possibilities.
I look upon Erik with awe and try not to wake him as I murmur my thoughts, "What hellish heartbreak, pain and disappointment you have known, my love? If it were within my power to erase those past torments, I would. What I can promise is to try and chase away those shadows."
Erik stirs. His left arm is pinned between his knees. When he turns towards me, his right arm flops across my torso. He sighs.
The memory of last night replays in my mind. Our inaugural bout of love making was at once tender and primal. Watching this powerful and mature man exercise his masculine prowess for the first time leaves me awe struck and raw with need.
I kiss his forehead and draw closer to his warmth. The familiar tingling begins in my thighs, spreading wet heat. A faint whimper escapes from my throat. Erik's hands come to life, lazily stroking the flesh just above my hips where a network of tender nerve endings lay. His graceful fingers slip lower until he pets my inner thigh. My moans compel him to creep lower still, until the tips of his fingers flutter against the tender folds of skin between my legs.
Something bumps up against my bent right leg-his hand isn't the only body part coming to life.
Erik brushes away the hair from my neck and kisses the nape gently. "Good morning my love," he coos.
"Good, yes and getting better all the time--oh, geez Erik, piano isn't the only thing you play well," I groan.
I can't help but wallow in my bliss and reciprocate his attentions by reaching over him to stroke his hard, muscled ass.
Erik's body reacts with goose bumps, hardened nipples and an even harder cock.
"This lovely dew flowing from your sweet insides is considerable, daring. Could my future bride be yearning for me to take her?" Erik's voice is smooth and rich, like fine dark-chocolate.
I am mad for him to penetrate me; to love me with his body. "I want…this," I purr and grasp hold of what I crave, Erik's considerable hard-on.
"I'm not ready my love." Could have fooled me.
I roll onto my back for better access. Erik understands this and resumes his stroking, using my silky lubrication as a pleasure enhancement. His index finger slides gently over the right side of my swollen clitoris; his other hand cups and kneads my breasts lovingly. Delicious tension builds in my loins. I am going to come, but not without Erik.
"I'm making love to you, now. My release will happen with you nestled deeply inside me; comprenez Monsieur?"
"Clearly, Mademoiselle," he grins sleepily, happily.
"On your back please."
"Excusez-moi?"
"I want to be on top, don't fret, you'll like it."
Erik eyes me with anticipatory lust. He is smiling that wry sideways smile of his.
I capture his legs between my knees and lean over to kiss the top of his sex, then I lick it.
"Merde, Gabrielle," he hisses.
"That's right sweetheart, lay there and enjoy yourself. I know I plan to."
I rise up and position myself over him. The tender lips of my sex whisper against Erik's tip. In one movement, I part the delicate folds and press steadily on top of Erik. He's watching with rapt interest, yet the feeling becomes so intense for him he closes his eyes and throws his head into the pillow. I am fully impaled on his engorged sex and begin riding him up and down, deliberately; slowly.
Erik fits perfectly. Looking at his well defined body thrills me, he is so beautiful in his imperfection. Those haunting burning, eyes, his full lips and talented tongue, the charisma of his haughty attitude even entice me.
He has recovered from the initial contact of our bodies and is observing me keenly. His eyes roam over my body appreciatively expressing adoration.
"I love you, Gabrielle."
"And I you Erik."
"I apologize, darling, but I feel certain that I am close to release," his voice was raw with longing.
"Then we will be able to unleash our passions together," I promised.
I ride Erik harder, up and down, frantically rotating my hips against him, desperate for release. I feel Erik's sex pulsing rapidly against my inner walls.
He meets my movements enthusiastically and I begin to buck wildly, my hair flying in my face, breasts bouncing about as a most maddening sensation pervades my body.
"Oh Erik, oh my god, oh my god, I-oh-you feel so good, so good, oh, incredible…Erik, I love you." I feel only dizzying ecstasy and come completely undone. My feminine sheath convulses around him; he grunts, quivers, and thrusts against my womb. I liquefy as we share our release together, and then collapse on top of Erik in a post-coitus stupor.
He is kisses my hair and strokes my arm, "Gabrielle, my sweet I have perused numerous tomes of erotica, witnessed many a tryst within the dark corridors of the opera house and as a boy in the gypsy carnivals. I have heard the frenzied cries of lust and the hushed declarations of love. I carry no shame when I tell you I've engaged in fantasies using my hand upon my very flesh, but those experiences never prepared me for the euphoria of being sheathed within your warm, welcoming body. Why, this new experience rivals the joys of composing my most inspired cantata. And your release, it was astounding. I may well never allow your feet to touch the floor again."
With my face buried in the crook of his neck, I panted out a winded laugh, "I suppose you will be cooking for yourself then?"
"Bah, who needs food?"
I lay a trail of kisses on his neck and coo into his ear, "I'm very happy you enjoyed that Erik."
"My love, were you-did I perform adequately?"
"Adequately?" I lift my head to look in his eyes. "Erik, you were beyond adequate--you rocked my world you sexy beast."
"I will take that as a compliment."
"And then some," I laugh, incredulous that he would think otherwise. "You never cease to amaze me."
Erik continues winding his fingers through the tawny mess that is my hair.
"Intercourse-I have considered ceaselessly what it would feel like to bed a woman, so much in fact, I had made myself miserable with the knowledge that such carnal joys were not for my kind. Eventually I taught myself to disengage mind and body from fleshly desires. I am a fortunate man to have you Gabrielle."
My heart breaks for Erik when he recounts his loveless existence. He's such an impassioned man, I consider myself lucky that he accepts me into his cloistered world.
"I'm the lucky one, Erik. If these stupid women knew you as I do, well, I'm not sure I would be your first choice."
"Gabrielle," Erik reprimanded me, "Why ever would you say such a thing? Good lord woman, you are lovely and kind and clever. Your intelligence rivals that of most men! For me, you are nearly perfect."
"Oh, you only say that because you like the booty."
He is not smiling at me. "Hardly the reason; there are few people I suffer for any reason. I fancy you for many, many reasons, Mademoiselle."
"I know, I know, I just…I shouldn't speak of rejection to you, but after being left by my mother and jilted twice by a lover, then working in a business where you are never good enough, low self esteem dies a long, hard death. All I ever wanted was to be someone's first choice."
"All I ever wished for was to be chosen." What the hell am I whining for? I ask myself.
"I chose you Erik-for eternity, and while I cannot alter your past, I only hope that being chosen by me is good enough for the magnificent Erik DuPuis." I say as I push myself up onto my elbows for a face to face with Erik. "An eternity of looking into your brilliant eyes, bending your brilliant mind and enjoying the machinations of brilliant sex sounds like a good deal to me! What do you say to that Monsieur?"
"This," Erik rolled me over and swiftly climbed on top of me.
"Hey now beastie boy!" I giggle. He is biting my neck and growling, and I like it.
"Yes well, if I am a beastie as you say, then I may well have to ravish your body once more."
He isn't playing either. I can feel his cock is blooming hard against my mons.
"Gabrielle, is it normal for a man to produce an erection so quickly after release?" Erik sounds concerned.
"For some men I suppose it is unusual, but you, Erik are more virile than most. Plus you have a lot of catching up to do."
"I don't wish to impose myself upon your good nature. Are you able to…?"
"Shut-up and do me."
Erik throws me a facetious sideways smile; I am certain that he plans to deal with my high-handedness in a most deserving way.
It's a good thing that today is Sunday. It is the Roux's day off and they often spend it going to church and visiting with family in Paris.
Except for brief trips to the WC, Erik and I have been in bed for hours. I am sore in the most in-opportune places and I've no doubt Erik is too. After all, the man has made love to me five times since last evening. I shouldn't be surprised; whatever Erik DuPuis does, he does bien cuit.
Erik just traipsed downstairs to fetch some sustenance; chocolate birthday cake leftover from yesterday, cheese, grapes and anything else that strikes his fancy. I heard his stomach grumbling after round four, he's got to be ravenous.
The bedchamber door opened with a bang, and a naked Erik entered carrying an enormous tray of food; there is a bottle of a white wine stashed under one arm. It's quite a comical scene and I cannot stop myself from laughing.
"Do you wish to eat or mock my efforts?" he says setting the tray on the bed and crawling on top of the covers.
I nab a bunch of grapes, "You've worn me to a right frazzle. If I don't get to eat, I'll perish; have mercy monsieur."
"Frazzled are you my little dove? Forgive me. I too am a tad tender. What does one do when they have over-indulged in pleasures of the flesh?"
"Cease for a time and heal, continue until the body adjusts to the activity, or rub ointment on the injured body part."
"I choose the second option."
"Naturally."
"But I don't wish to wear you out. Let's eat, Gabrielle. Then we can wash, dress and tend to the rose garden, perhaps I'll write a song for you. One has been running through my head since last night, I would very much like to actualize it soon."
I munch grapes and smile at him. Feeling dazed and happy, I agree with Erik's suggestions. I would probably agree with him if he told me the sky was green and the trees blue.
"Next week you will schedule a fitting for your wedding gown. There is a courtier in Paris I want you to use. Madame Roux can assist you with the arrangements. I shall need to pen personal invitations to the Giry's, the Mangeot's and the few other people I consider worthy of attending our nuptials. There are many details which cannot be dealt with until just before our wedding day, but should you desire anything at all, Gabrielle, you must tell me. Your wish is my command, darling."
"I will, Erik." I touch his hand briefly, "And thank you for being so sweet and generous to me."
Erik poured a glass of wine for us to share, "Gabrielle," he asks, handing me the goblet of wine.
"Mmm?" I hum as I take a sip of the wine.
Erik fixes his gaze on the bottle in his hand while he continues, "Do you still detest existing in the 19th century?"
I passed the goblet to him and propped my chin up in one hand, "Well…not nearly as much as I once did."
My eyes sought his, "Seriously, Erik, if I had the choice to return to my former life without you or stay here, I would have to stay here. Living without you in the new millennium would be hell."
"Good, for it is because of you that my 19th century existence has ceased to be hell."
- O -
Author's note: Some candy for your sweet tooth. This story will get thorny again, so please stay with me for the trauma and the drama. And shoot me a review, it's hard to know how I am doing if I don't get feedback.Don't make me pout. To those who have been faithful, I thank you profusely--Leesa