Thanks for the honest reviews; those are ones I like the best. I received all sorts of comments, from poor little Erik monkey, cock-blocked again, please douse me with chocolate to calling Gab a Mary Sue—I think we all have a bit of the MS in us at certain times, it's called weakness of the heart (or groin). Thank you all for the great input.
Be warned, this chapter rates a serious M
-Leesainthesky
Ch 62 Désir
Sneaking into the bedroom of a man notorious for his catlike senses was not an easy feat, but I tried anyway. My naked feet tread softly across the Persian rug, feeling their way along the familiar path to Erik's bedside.
I held my hands out so as not to collide with any recently rearranged furniture, after all, it had been over a week since I'd breached the threshold of Erik's bedchambers, he might have redecorated.
Eventually my fingers came in contact with the cool, smooth finish of the master's ornate mahogany bed.
I lifted up the covers and attempted to slip beneath them as gingerly as possible. The bed linens were heavy with Erik's intoxicating scent.
Erik did not stir. Phew, home free. I'll lay on my back until my heart stops thumping.
"Your pheromones gave you away. Tell me, what brings the honorable Mademoiselle Thomassen to my bed?"
I started at the sound of Erik's honeyed voice, then groped in the dark for his face. Upon finding it, I caressed both sides with my palms.
"Understand that I am a woman of principle Erik; I do not appreciate being taken for granted, but I didn't come here to debate such things."
"Then why are you here, Gabrielle?" his voice was pure seduction.
Because I am weak when it comes to you, idiot.
"Because I am a woman; because of love and need. If this were my very last night on earth, I would die to spend it in your embrace." I fingered the patch of dark hair on his chest and ran my hand over the taut muscles. When my fingers played upon one of Erik's nipples, he sucked in a sharp breath.
Erik remained motionless, enjoying the play of my fingers on his body. Allowing me to take the lead meant that he could not be blamed for any impropriety.
I draped my body over Erik's, raising just enough to brush my breasts across his chest. His sighs of pleasure continued--he liked this sort of foreplay quite bit.
Even though I lacked Erik's keen night vision, locating his lips proved no trial. I hovered less than an inch from his mouth, letting my warm breath dance upon his lips. Eagerly, he obliged me in a kiss—a deep, soul-searing kiss that lasted for uncountable minutes.
Masculine hands applied light pressure to my back, urging my body to fully rest on top of his. Erik covered me from shoulder to buttocks with long flowing strokes. I began to relax.
"Ooh, that feels wonderful."
"Your muscles Gabrielle, they are as hard agate; it would be no bother for me to alleviate you of your tension if you like darling."
Erik may have been a recluse, and outcast, an oddity of nature, but he'd long ago learned to use his unusual brilliance to his advantage. Those long fingers, instruments of Erik's genius, were capable of creating innumerable works of art, and when introduced to the joys of the flesh, became capable of touching me in ways other men never imagined, probing the depths of my desires with graceful alacrity and intuition. To Erik, woman and music were beauty personified.
And now, the strength of his erection was evident beneath me and my hips responded by rolling against his.
Was I crazy for giving into my lusts? Maybe, but I did not care. My only focus was on satiating my desire.
Erik's short lived celibacy was ending, and in spite of the question of the Comtess.
I stretched across Erik's body toward one of the gas sconces flanking his bed and turned up the flame to a cozy and comfortable incandescence.
Erik watched me with a curious grin.
I propped an elbow one each side of his torso, rested my chin in my hands and offered him a mysterious expression.
"Let it be known that coming to your bed is in no way a feminine submission. I am a shameless and selfish hussy who craves your attentions in the worst way. If I never see you again, I will have one final night of mind blowing sex to remember forever."
"Good heavens woman, stop this fatalistic pontificating would you? I am merely going to meet the girl and speak with her; I'll spend the remainder of my trip pouring over boring blueprints and schematics. I may even pay a visit to Madame Giry while I am in the city."
I arched an eyebrow at him, "She doesn't deserve you anyway, you know. Didn't the little thing shriek and run from you when she saw your face, and then tell her fiancé, the Vicomte, that she could never forget the horror of seeing your deformed, distorted face—hardly a face. Isn't that what you told me about that terrible night on the Opera's roof?"
Erik worked his jaw back and forth and stared into the gloom. Perhaps it was unfair of me to encourage him to relive his past. I felt it necessary.
"Can she have changed all that much? My mother used to tell me that a leopard never changes its' spots, and she should know; mummy dearest was the queen of predatory she-beasts. Erik, a woman's toleration of you is not the same as being welcomed or accepted. I will always welcome you Erik, all of you."
As I spoke, I traced my fingers across the flesh of his forehead, over his deformed cheek and down to his lips. Looking him squarely in the eyes, I kissed him with all of the love and passion of a dying woman, then drew back to meet his eyes.
Erik swiped at a wild strand of hair that dangled in my face, tucked it behind my ear, and smiled up at me. "My darling, sometimes I think you are an apparition created by my mind's eye. Make no mistake, Gabrielle, I love you madly. Without you, I am a nothing but a cerebellum and a pathetic bag of bones."
"Sweetheart, because of my love for you, there is little I would not do for you, within reason of course—I mean no three ways, animal, midget, or wrong way sex and all..."
"Gracious! I would never subject you to such vulgar abnormalities. As much as I resemble a beast, I am not prone to behave as one, really!"
I giggled at his serious indignation.
"I know, it's alright, Erik. All I'm saying is, there is little, very little, I would not attempt with you, for you; all you need do is ask."
"Oh?" he smiled rakishly. "I daresay there is something I've imagined indulging in for quite some time. When we couple, you insist I remove my mask, reveling my true face in all its monstrous glory. Still, you touch me and you smile at me and I see the adoration in your eyes, yet a part of me wonders about the veracity of your response."
I frowned, "What exactly do you mean Erik?"
"Gabrielle, I would very much like to watch you watching as we mate. To see my distorted visage and your pretty face and naked body in the throes of ecstasy when I take you; to see that it is the beast in my mirror giving you pleasure would exhilarate me greatly."
His eyes had taken on the dark glossy aura of passion. Erik' suggestion was so primal that I experienced a sudden rush of heat.
I searched his face, and he smiled; it was the smile of a man filled with savage need—a need not merely born of lust.
I ran my hand over his soft brown hair and returned the seductive smile; I too had a need which ached for fulfillment.
"Someone's feeling kinky, isn't he?" I dropped to my right side and drew my fingers spider-like down his chest to his belly and over the top of his swollen tip and down the length of his shaft, all the while singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider nursery rhyme.
Erik's phallus twitched beneath my touch; he groaned and grabbed hold of my hand. "I suppose it is a blessing that my mother never sang nursery rhymes and lullaby's to me isn't it?"
"It is if the Itsy Bitsy Spider was a part of her repertoire," I quipped.
"Ladies first," he swept his fingertips down my thighs, teasing me in a most delicious way. My legs parted of their own accord, but Erik chose to ignore the obvious invitation.
He made me wait.
I whined in frustration.
"What vexes you so my dove?"
"I—I'm, oh you know!"
"Tell me."
"Erik…"
"You've become quite creamy; might your frustration have anything to do with that?"
"Erik, cease your teasing and use those masterful hands of yours to my advantage."
All I received was an audible sneer. I pushed my sex against his hand the way a kitten rubs its head against a person's leg.
Erik employed a single finger to trace the perimeter of my most sensitive organ. His leisurely pace made me pulse with heat. Frustrated, I twisted my feet into the sheets.
"Your silken folds are remarkably swollen Gabrielle, shall I soothe them with kisses?"
"Please…"
"Like this—and this?" Erik leaned into me, his lips bestowed feathery kisses on my most tender part. I bristled with pleasure.
"You're…exquisite," I breathed.
"You taste exquisite," he answered, lapping at my center.
In and out darted Erik's tongue, his flawless technique thrilled me in unimaginable ways, yet he chose to avoid the erect pink bud begging for attention.
The fingers of his left hand replaced his tongue, which now flickered over the sensitive bud. He busied his fingers, dipping in and sliding out of my wet entrance.
"Your ability to incite sexual delectation should be illegal, Erik." I squirmed against his attentions, craving the feeling of his cock—in my hand, my mouth, inside of me; I needed to feel Erik, to possess.
And there it was, happily swollen and erect within reach of my hand. Greedily, I enclosed my fingers around his thickness, stroking in the exact manner he enjoyed.
He paused, focused his gaze on my face and smiled, "Oh-ho my dear, what have you found?"
"An immensely talented French phallus. And it's mine…finder's keepers and all that."
"Whatever would you do with such a thing darling?"
"Put it in a warm place for safe keeping, naturally," I teased.
"For later use then?"
"Most certainly not!" I squeezed him tighter, "Erik I need you—now. I need to connect with you, physically and spiritually. Oh god, don't make me wait; don't make me beg. My pride has suffered enough."
"Your pride suffers from coming to me? How odd Gabrielle." Erik sat upright and thrust his fingers into me as if to make a point.
I gasped sharply then gained my composure. "I didn't mean it as a slam."
"Then show me Gabrielle, show Erik how very badly you desire him. On your knees, if you please my love."
I questioned him with my eyes, then rose and got on my knees facing him.
"The other direction, Gabrielle, facing the armoire."
Across from the end of Erik's bed stood a massive mahogany armoire with a full-length mirror on the inside of the door. Normally Erik took great pains to keep the doors closed but tonight they were fully open.
"Certainly, Monsieur."
Never one to back away from love-play, I tossed the bedclothes aside and knelt at the end of the bed while Erik positioned his body behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
"Gabrielle, look in the mirror, witness our nakedness in its reflection." He smiled a deviant grin, and cupped my breasts.
"What is it that you see darling?"
"The man I love touching me."
"Now my little dove, on all fours, if you please."
"Feeling a bit animal tonight are we?"
"I enjoy watching," he shrugged.
Why this new game appealed to him at this particular moment I could not say, but I had no aversion to appeasing him. Dropping down onto my hands and knees near the end of the bed, I brought my head up to meet our image in the mirror.
Erik swept his fingers down my face to my torso and over my back, tracing invisible lines across my bottom and legs. It seemed as though he was imprinting every detail of my body to memory.
I arched my back and sighed with pleasure.
When Erik reached beneath me, his knuckles brushed against the distended flesh at the forefront of my sex. He held it between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed lightly.
The intensity of his touch was unbearable. I closed my eyes.
"Keep your eyes open, Gabrielle. I want the both of us to witness the power that I have over you!"
Well, well, someone's made strides in the sexual confidence department now hasn't he? I smiled to myself.
Erik devoured the image in the mirror, his eyes locked onto mine while his fingers continued their delicious dance. He parted my lips and slid his cock along my wetness, all the while watching.
I reached back to fondle him, noting that his balls were heavy from the abstinence I'd imposed on him.
Erik groaned huskily and gritted his teeth, but kept his eyes on our image in the mirror.
I drew in a hard breath when his engorged tip breached my entrance. Erik thrust into me with a grunt, and then pulled out with excruciating slowness before thrusting into me again. He knew how much I loved the way he rubbed against my inner walls. I stretched out like a cat and he indulged me in the delicious maneuver several more times before picking up the pace. In the mirror I could see my breasts bouncing and swaying with the rhythm of our lovemaking.
Being able to see Erik's sex beneath me, coupled with his rapturous expression, served as a potent aphrodisiac.
He withdrew his hand from me and I took over, rubbing myself in his place. Erik thoroughly enjoyed the show before him; his face became flushed and his thrusts more frantic.
"Harder! Erik, please it's alright, you're not hurting me, I swear it," I moaned.
Caught up in our passion, he slammed into me from behind. He reveled in seeing ecstasy on my face; I opened my mouth and panted small sounds of pleasure.
Having Erik slid in and out of me with such fervor and watching our sweaty bodies flail about with the motion of our passion was thrilling.
"Yes Gabrielle, that's it my sweet, surrender to me, feel what I am doing to you, see what I am doing to you. Come for me. Can you still do so when you see the two of us together, the beast and the beauty?" he growled harshly.
"Y-yes, the man in the mirror is the man that I love, the man who was to become my husband," I choked out.
The intensity of my orgasm was not solely responsible for the trail of tears on my face. I'd heard other women liken sexual release to the movement of an ocean tide, washing over them in multiple waves of bliss. I figured it was just so much romantic bunk, until now.
My inner walls rippled again and again and I screamed out Erik's name out.
"Merdé, Gabrielle, you are killing me," he whispered loudly through clenched teeth, and responded by pounding into me with gusto, again and again and again.
His climax was so powerful, I actually felt his sex pulsating within, followed by the warm flood of his life's liquid filling me completely.
Unable to obey his own command, he closed his eyes against the rapture of his release, tossing his head back and yelling as if he were dying.
Maybe he was; maybe a part Erik's self-loathing had taken it's leave.
Satiated, Erik bent over my back and nuzzled my neck. "Mon amour, I am the man who will be your husband. In many, many ways, I already am."
Then why in the hell are you still going see Christine tomorrow? I wanted to ask him, but at the moment, I'd no desire to beat a dead horse.
I collapsed, tired emotionally and physically, letting my arms hang limp over the end of the bed and waited for my pulse to slow.
Erik wrapped his arms about my hips and laid his head on me. I felt the dampness from his hair in the small of my back. The air in the bedroom seemed cooler and it breathed a chill over our naked bodies.
"Let's get under the covers Erik, I'm cold."
"An excellent idea; it would appear I've let the fire burn low. Warm yourself beneath the covers while I stoke the fire my love.
He kissed my bottom playfully and sprung from the bed to the fireplace where he poked at the embers and added two more logs. We'd made a mess of the bedclothes and I worked quickly to untangle the sheets and fluff out the down coverlet. Completing my task, I curled up beneath the orderly mountain of warm Egyptian cotton.
Erik walked toward the bed. Soft flames flickered and danced across his face and torso.
I was struck by Erik's stature, the taught lean muscles, and of how he walked with proud elegance no matter the circumstances.
At the moment his disheveled hair, sleepy, satisfied smile, and mismatched eyes made him appear more like a teen-aged boy than a feared phantom of the night.
Offering me an ardent smile, Erik joined me beneath the covers. He turned briefly to lower the bedside sconce and fluff up his pillow before he settled in against me. He then pulled the covers over us and drew my body to his.
For some time we lay in silence, breathing in the glorious scent of our lovemaking, which hung in the air and on the sheets. I stroked his hair and kissed the bald spot on the right side of his head.
Erik's rich voice breached the dark silence, "The French like to call sexual release la petite mort."
"Yes, the little death," I said in English.
"Were it true, I would gladly die innumerable deaths with you, Gabrielle."
My heart filled with the hope that Erik was not a duplicitous man.
"I don't want to fall asleep thinking about the fact that you're leaving tomorrow. Will you hum a song for me Erik?" I whispered.
"Anything for you, my dove," he chuckled softly and began soothing me with an unknown melody.
I felt no guilt or self-loathing for what we had done.
Would I feel the same way in the morning?
- 0 -
Well now…
What do you think about our heroine's choices? What about the writing itself? Please review for me, I honestly appreciate all of your input.
PS, I would like to pick more beta's. Amy is great, but I think it's good to have additional points of view and pairs of eyes to proof my story. If you are interested, please let me know. I'm easy to deal with.
-Leesa