Bonjour, forgive me for making you wait so long for this chapter. Blame it on a crippled power source in my laptop and lots of work (stupid work …). I missed you.
-Leesa
98 Erik's fantasy
"Your fantasy, Erik?" What on earth are you talking about?" I asked, staring into my husband's jade eyes with a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
"While you've been busy exercising your maternal instincts, I've been tending to another sort of creation."
"What sort of—creation?"
"Your face, Gabrielle, you remind me of a dog who's being offered a bone, but fears she'll be whipped for an unknown bad deed if she accepts it." My wariness seemed to amuse him.
"Oh, I know, I know. When you pull out the 'Mr. Dark and Mysterious' persona on me, I have to wonder what's up," I said, letting him help me to my feet.
"I've nothing sinister up my sleeve—honestly woman," he huffed.
Erik leapt up from the grass and extended his hand to me. "Come, let me show you."
"Show and tell Erik style; oh, how very cloak and dagger."
Erik ignored my quip, entwined the long fingers of his right hand with mine and picked up the baby's basket with his other hand while I placed our son, whose eyes were focusing on a large orange butterfly fluttering about my floral print dress, back in his cozy wicker transport.
Erik looped his arm in mine and steered me down the meadow path toward the manor house.
"I don't want to go back there just yet," I protested.
"We're not, darling."
"Oh—where are we going then?"
"Not far."
"This is not the day to make me crazy, you know," I said with a thinly veiled warning beneath my light demeanor. Erik merely chuckled and walked on. Late morning sunlight splashed across his face enhancing the laugh lines of his eyes and mouth, making him more appealing than ever.
I remained silent as we neared the back of the stable area.
"Here," he said, stopping in front of the old equipment shed on the back side of the old barn.
This was where I'd discovered the entrance to Erik's underground hovel.
I shot him a suspicious sideways glance. "Why are we here?" I asked sharply.
"You'll see," he answered, a mysterious smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. Erik stooped next to a kerosene lamp partially concealed by weeds, lit the wick with a match from his pocket, and lifted the lamp by its rusty handle. "Follow me and stay near, the stairs are dark and narrow," he warned, pushing aside the weather-beaten door and stepping inside.
I wondered what demon had possessed my husband to lead me back into the bowels of my personal hell on the day of our marriage celebration. Did he plan to show me a cavernous space swept clear of any trace of his former obsession?
That must be it, a reassurance, his Parthian shot to the past, I thought, and allowed him to lead me into the tiny shed and down several worn steps to the iron door of Erik's hideaway. The heavy door creaked on rusty hinges when Erik pushed his shoulder against it. Like a gentleman, he held the lamp high so the light illuminated the immediate area before us. I entered in silence my eyes glued to the only image visible in the sparse lamplight—Erik.
Once inside he instructed me to stay put, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing me.
"Like the baby and I want to get caught in cobweb hell," I told him. It's not that cobwebs alarmed me, I simply wasn't fond of having them stuck to my face and hair. Whenever I walked into one, I felt guilty for destroying a lady spider's delicate work.
"There are no spiders here," he snorted softly. "Now, if you would, please, close your eyes and do not open them until I instruct you to do so."
"Yes indeedy, Mr. Mystery-Mysterio," I said, complying with his request. Whatever he'd planned, it had to be good, as I'd learned that Erik's surprises were often grandiose.
He moved inaudibly about the gloaming and I wondered if he'd vanished altogether from the cavern. Most of what I heard was the anxious thumping of my own heart and an occasional sigh from the sleeping babe in the basket.
It was the smell that first hit me. The air was redolent of exotic florals—the heady perfume of jasmine. And I heard … birds.
After a short pause, the warmth of Erik's sensuous voice billowed through the darkness. "Gabrielle, my love, you may open your eyes."
I gasped. What I saw rivaled my most indulgent daydreams.
The dreary cave that once housed a shrine to the illustrious opera singer now gleamed with the opulence of a lush tropical rainforest. Here were voluptuous palm and banana trees, ferns, plus gardenias and orchids of every variety and color. Brilliantly hued tropical birds twittered amongst the flora. At the far end of the carven, a waterfall bubbled and cascaded over rocks into a small lagoon. Above me, I saw sky, not a true sky, but a near perfect facsimile, painted Caribbean blue.
I don't know how long it took to drink in the grandeur, but when I finally surfaced back into the now, I blinked back tears borne of unnamable emotion and turned to look at my husband. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, the picture of repose, but in his eyes, I saw the boy who wished to please. With a subtle lift of his eyebrows, Erik asked his question.
Our eyes locked. I set down the baby's basket to embrace my husband.
"Erik-how?" I stuttered, wide-eyed and astonished.
He cast one arm around my shoulders and made a sweeping gesture with the other. "It is a dream I've had for decades, yet never bothered with. Why design an island of fantasy for a sad and lonely old beast with no one to share his vision? You would only taunt yourself, I'd chastise myself. Then I met you and found the good buried within my encrusted heart."
"Sweetheart, that's not totally true," I said, resting my head on his shoulder and stroking his chest with my free hand. Erik's compliments often left me feeling unworthy. I knew his heart longed to revel in the true beauty of the man draped beneath an inky cloak of survival. I waved frantically at my eyes hoping to quell an onslaught of tears from dribbling down my cheeks. I was not a pretty crier.
"It looks so real, Erik is it?"
"As real as you wish for it to be, darling."
I broke from his embrace, moved to a bush, and bent down for a sniff. It was the unmistakable fragrance of Jasmine all right, lush and sensuous. The bush felt like silk and twig, the real deal. Beneath my feel ran a thick, emerald ground cover.
"Okay, I give. How did you construct all of this?" I asked, turning back to Erik and holding out my palms.
He shrugged and picked up the basket holding our son. "Lighting, mirrors and the like. I've designed countless automata and dozens of elaborate sets—my talents have devised many brilliant instruments of depravity. I thought I should see what creations of beauty were within my capabilities.
"Flippin' amazing."
"Come." He reached out to me take my hand and led me over to the lagoon.
"This is so very cool. I can't believe you did all of this right under my nose. And I always thought I was a good reporter. My brain must have turned to baby food in the last few months."
Erik laughed. "Place your hand in the water."
I knelt down, put my right hand on the creek stone border for balance and swept the other hand across the surface of the crystal clear pool.
"It's warm. What is this, some sort of underground spring or did you install a water heater?" I asked, looking up at Erik in the filtered "sunlight."
"Your first guess was correct, my dear. Beneath the land in this area runs a network of hot springs much like those in Vichy. I never saw a use of capturing them until I had the idea for the lagoon. I have designed a place of solitude and fantasy where we can visit without fear of intrusion. He set the basket down took grasped my hands in his and gazed into my eyes.
"Do you like it?"
"Good god, I love it, Erik! It's the stuff of dreams, and way better than a Barbie Dream House."
He looked at me quizzically. "Oh—very good, then."
"Very good."
"Shall we try out the lagoon? I hear that hot mineral water is quite restorative."
I hedged, but for just a moment. I'd been running myself ragged for two weeks in preparation for today's "simple" gathering. The warm water's caressing fingers enticed me.
"Why not? We've got several more hours until the rest of our guests arrive," I said, smiling coyly at Erik. He began undressing with his back to me, laying his garments on a strategically placed ledge where they would stay dry.
I was still unbuttoning my cotton dress when turned his glorious nakedness toward me. "I was going to ask if I could take your clothes, but I see you're still wearing them."
It had been sometime since I had been totally naked in front of my husband. Even during delivery, I was partially covered, and now I felt my old nemesis, insecurity, creeping into my psyche. It had only been six weeks since I'd given birth to our son and I was rather out of shape. I knew Erik wouldn't care, but still, I felt anxious about my new body.
I stepped out of the dress and undergarments and handed them over to Erik's waiting hands. Once they were neatly and stashed on the ledge, Erik slipped his sinewy body the warm water.
I turned quickly, picked up young Erik's basket—he was still sleeping—and walked over to the lagoon's low stone border where I sat down with my arms folded across my lap and dipped my toes in the steaming mineral bath. I could feel Erik's eyes roaming over me.
"What was all that maneuvering about?" he asked
"What maneuvering?"
"Undressing as if you were a shy little virgin. Is it some sort of wedding night ritual?" he laughed and swished the water around him with his arms.
Briefly, I allowed my eyes to dip toward my stomach. "I'm fat."
"Ah, you appear embarrassed, Gabrielle. You are not fat; you only just had a child. Your body will return to normal soon, and if it doesn't, who cares? Your changing shape is a testament of our love—our family Rest the babe's basket on the ledge, he'll be safe there and well within our sight. Come now, Gabrielle, you are not the shy type."
"Ha, normally I'm the antithesis of you, aren't I?"
"What is it you say, 'don't be a dork'? Join me and let us enjoy the fruits of my labor."
"You're right, I'm being silly," I agreed, hanging my head. Suddenly I jumped in, scooped up a hand full of water, and sloshed it the direction of my husband. "But I am not a dork!" LOL!
He scrambled through the water and pulled me into his arms before I had a chance to retreat.
"Careful! I'm a new mother. Don't bruise the merchandise," I pleaded through a veil of giggles.
"I thought you told me you were thoroughly healed," Erik growled, and nipped at my ear.
"I am. I was staving off your retaliation."
"You do know that today marks the third day of the sixth week since our son was born?"
"So?"
"What did you tell me was special about the sixth week preceding our son's birth?"
"Um, let me see . . . besides the wedding celebration, I haven't a clue."
"Why put off until tonight what we've the energy for now?" he continued nuzzling the soft skin behind my ear.
"Oh you mean sex," I said feigning ignorance.
"I want to ravish you until you beg me to cease," Erik nibbled at the slope of my neck while his hands cupped my breasts, awaking the familiar heat of desire inside of me. Preoccupied and tired though I'd been, I wanted—needed to make love to Erik. Soon.
I arched my back and rubbed my behind up against him as I enjoyed his touch.
"Stop that or I'll bend you over and impale you this instant," Erik said gruffly, his hands sliding lower.
"Sorry, dear. I know you've got a hair trigger these days." At the precise moment I turned in his arms for more intimate contact, our son began to cry.
Erik's face took on the appearance of a man wracked with pain. "I assume that my namesake's needs take precedence over mine," he sighed.
"Maybe it's nothing, maybe he'll quite down," I said, hoping.
"Does our son not wish for his parents to ever couple again?"
"Doesn't want to share our affections with another sibling." I smiled and stroked Erik's face.
The infant's soft cries became full throttle "I-want-it-now!" wails.
"I'm sure whatever he needs won't take long. This big guy won't be lonely for long, promise," I reached beneath the water to caress his enormous hard on bobbing in the current.
"I am holding you to your word," Erik grumped as I swished through the warm water to fetch the fussy infant.
It seems the growing boy wanted to eat again. I perched on the stone border with my feet submerged in the lagoon while he nursed. Erik joined us, sitting next to me and stroking his son's tiny head with his finger tips. Thankfully, the feeding didn't take long. Soon the infant was back in his cozy little basket.
"Hungry little bugger, he's growing by the second."
Erik stared at his son nursing at my breasts.
"I wonder Gabrielle—what it is like?"
"What, sweetheart?"
"To nurse."
"Oh, I don't know, my mother didn't do it either, not that I would remember."
"I do. For some cruel reason my exceptional infantile brain chose to capture the memory of her rejection for a lifetime." His voice dropped along with his gaze.
"That truly affected you didn't it?" I remarked, laying a hand on his damp back.
"It was my first rejection."
"Ah," I whispered. I hated it when Erik revisited his pain-filled his past, yet I knew the memories were meshed into the fibers of his being for eternity.
"Kiss me," I said.
His eyebrows arched in a "oh" followed by a sly grin. He leaned in to meet my lips and soon we found ourselves entwined in a fevered embrace.
Erik's mouth replaced his hands on my breasts. He moaned in appreciation as he tongued my nipples. Somewhat swollen from being a human milking machine, I was thankful for his light touch and soft kisses, a pleasant sensation compared to the force of our son's mouth.
An idea occurred to me. "You know Erik; it's not uncommon for a husband to taste his wife's breasts while she's nursing. I wouldn't think it inappropriate should you like to—try it out."
Two jade eyes peered up at me and I smiled my approval.
Already in my arms, I cradled his head in my hands and pressed him to my breast. "Place you mouth firmly over my nipple and suck. Trust me, unless you bite, you won't hurt me," I said in a soothing tone.
Erik did as instructed, suckling tentatively at first then applying more pressure. He emitted a soft sigh and relaxed in my arms as I stroked the thin wet hair on the right side of his head and ran my thumb over the ruddy knots on his face, thinking about the man beneath the distortion, how relaxed he seemed in this moment.
Polite society may have seen the liberties I allowed my husband as shameful, but I did not. I sensed a healing catharsis in this indulgence of Erik's natural curiosity.
Ah, my dear, damaged genius, there is nothing I would not do for you to bring you peace. My eyes swept the room taking in the colors of the trees and the birds and the flowers, each amazing image lit by strategically placed lighting; all Erik's brilliant creations. After five minutes, Erik ceased his suckling, kissed my breast and addressed me with his crystalline green eyes.
"So—how was it?" I asked.
"Intriguing, warm as expected, thin and a tad sweet and . . . serene, not at all sexual," he answered.
"That can only be a good thing," I replied.
We sat on the stone edging soaking up the tranquility of the moment.
"I've designed a special bedroom as well. Would you care to see it?" he spoke, breaking our silence.
"Another surprise? Can I stand it?" I joked and flicked his chin dimple with my tongue.
"There are robes in there we can put on against the chill," he remarked, noticing the goose bumps emerging on my arms.
"Well then let's go see this new mystery room." I stood, snatched up the baby's basket and took Erik's hand in mine.
He led me to a spot on the side of the cavern where he reached through a tangle of vines and did something, which caused a door to slide open. I simply shook my head and mumbled something about the Trap-door Lover.
"After you, Madame," he said coolly, stepping aside for my entrance.
I stepped into a room of average size; however, the decor was anything but. A bright and airy room met my gaze. Suddenly I forgot all about being naked.
Erik had copied, as best he could, the page from a "House Beautiful" magazine I'd gotten at the airport gift shop and stuffed into my carry on bag two summers ago. The spartan furniture was a simple, clean style; plain neutral wood with copper accents. He'd painted the walls a clean white, except for the far wall, which was accented a brilliant green. There were vases filled with huge colorful flowers and a couple of whimsical watercolors adorned the area across form an enormous pedestal bed. My heart nearly stopped when I say what He had hung the bed's coppery headboard; it was a family portrait depicting Erik with his face exposed, turned slightly to his left. I stood next to him holding our son. We both smiled at the naked little cherub who appeared to smile back at us. There was the unmistakable glow of peace painted on our faces.
"Breathtaking, Erik," I beamed at him, feeling more pleasure than if I'd finally gotten that pony I'd asked for on that long ago Christmas. "How'd you know—about the room, that is?"
Erik walked over to a round copper table and lifted the home design magazine up for me to see. "I noticed you'd turned back a corner of a page in your periodical, therefore, I assumed you must have taken a fancy to the room's designs. I wanted you to have something from your past life, to remember that you are more than a nineteenth century wife, mother and writer. Your past makes you who you are, Gabrielle; it is what allows you to accept me. I don't wish for you to forget. I only wish I could do more for you." He put the magazine back and came to me. "I know you miss your family terribly; perhaps someday we can add your notes and writings and request the room be sealed off by our children, only to be opened after June, 2006."
"And only by my family. Erik, that's pure genius," I whispered, and draped my arms about his neck. He was too nice to me. In my former life, I stayed away from the "too-nice" boys, the type my parents wanted me to hook up with. They were usually quite creepy. Erik, however, was not born of a time when a romantic man's peers saw him as less of a man. All that macho shit did not apply to Monsieur DuPuis, and god knows Erik was edgy enough to surpass the "too-nice" boy label.
"'Genius', yes; 'too-nice'? I'm certain the jury would beg to differ with you, darling," he remarked with a droll chuckle and kissed the top of my head.
"This is so cool!" I hugged his neck and jumped up and down, making him start a bit before breaking into a wide grin.
"Cool, quite. Consider it a wedding gift from your old cantankerous husband."
"That's my dear, kind cantankerous husband. Oh man, Erik, you're going to make me cry and you know how I hate tearing up. Damn hormones." I swept away tears with the back of my hand and leaned into his embrace.
"My own little slice of 2006. Weird to think that I'll never know what will go beyond that year, as I once would have; of course the way the world was going, maybe that's not a bad thing," I reasoned as I walked through the room, touching objects here and there until I came to the bed. I hopped up on the thick white coverlet and gave Erik my best come hither look. "Now, monsieur DuPuis, what about that ravishing you were about to inflict on my person—"
Erik tilted his head sideways and grinned a wry grin, his cock rising valiantly to the occasion at hand. He then picked up the baby's basket and placed it next to the bed.
In an instant, he was covering me with his warm, muscular nakedness.
"God your skin feels splendid beneath me," he whispered in my ear.
"Ditto," I responded. I hoped we wouldn't miss the ceremony.
- ( ) -
In the words of that modern poet, Nelly, "It's getting hot in here so take off all your clothes …"
Now, please review for me. I crave the attention
-Leesainthesky