Okay, so I disappeared off the face of the earth the past year. Illness, work, stress, blah blah blah... you know the story. Haven't even logged into for several months. Just wanted you to know that I appreciated all your reviews in my absence, and as penance for taking soooooo long to post a new chapter, I'm posting two! Hope you like them. Please *feel free* to drop a review or three; you know how we writers LOVE to get them! On with the saga...

Oh yeah, I should warn you that this chapter gets pretty intense starting about 1/4 way down. Don't read if you're not into that sort of thing!

A Thousand Words

Chapter 5

Time for a Break

[in which Erik is oblivious no longer]

"You're late." His tone wasn't accusatory; he was simply stating a fact.

Erik stood in the open doorway, in all his paint-spattered glory, and my heart rate increased significantly at the sight of him. I tried to appear nonchalant as I shook the snow from my coat and stamped clumps of street slush from my boots.

"I told you yesterday that I had an appointment today. They kept me longer than I anticipated." I reached in my pocket for a tissue to wipe my nose.

"Ah, yes, I remember. I suppose you're forgiven, then."

As I removed my coat, I noticed that he was already at work - his palette was resting on a cart near the easel.

"Well, let's get started, shall we," he said as he went back over to the canvas.

I nodded and quickly removed my snow boots, jeans and sweater and put on my black pumps. Even though he had already seen me in all my "naked glory" so many times, it still was awkward for me to take off and put on my clothes in front of him. It might be because of those incredibly erotic dreams that haunted me, I don't know; but I turned my back to him as I slipped off my clothes. I silently re-positioned myself on the sofa, and then Erik was instantly at my side, guiding my arm this way, my head that way. My head swam from his breath on my skin, from his enticing scent, just from his nearness. I was so aware of his proximity...

Then he was back at work, applying paint to canvas. I lay there, staring at him for what could have been hours but in reality may have been only minutes. Time didn't seem to follow its normal rules here in Erik's studio. As I watched him working, I tried to memorize every feature of his face - the half I could see, anyway.

It wasn't until my stomach growled – quite loudly – that I remembered I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

Erik glanced at me with his eyebrow raised in amusement. He heard it too. I wanted to melt into the sofa from sheer embarrassment.

"Time for a break, I think," he said with a small smile. He set down his brush and palette. "You can put on that robe over there if you like." He draped the unfinished canvas with the sheet.

I hadn't noticed it, a black kimono draped over the far end of the sofa. I reached for it and put it on. Erik disappeared into the back and returned almost immediately with a tray of bread and cheese in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other as I tied the sash.

We settled on a thick blanket laid out in a far corner of the room, and Erik pulled the cork in the wine bottle. It was a good wine; I briefly wondered how a starving artist could afford such luxuries. He poured two glasses and handed one to me. We raised them in a silent toast.

Erik leaned back against the wall, stretching out his long legs in front of him. I sat facing him and pulled off my pumps. I curled my legs under me, trying to warm my feet.

We drank and ate in silence.

I reached across him to pick up a morsel from the tray, and my kimono fell open against the pull of my outstretched arm, exposing one of my breasts. I could feel Erik's eyes burning into my skin as they traveled down from my face to the swell of my pale flesh against the black satin robe. He lifted one hand to slowly push the fabric away further, but he did not touch me. I drew in a shaky breath.

Our eyes met once more. He raised his visible eyebrow in a silent question to me. Never breaking eye contact, I gave him the tiniest of nods in acquiescence. One side of his mouth curled up in an enigmatic smile as he slowly leaned forward and lowered his head to my breast. His lips ever-so-lightly touched the hard skin of my erect nipple, and then I felt the warm wetness of his tongue. A moan escaped my lips. He moved on to my second breast with his lips, teasing and tantalizing, while his hand drew up to caress the first. His graceful hands with their long, slender fingers never stopped moving, touching, exploring my skin.

I ran my fingers through Erik's ebony hair. It was soft and silky. I could smell the sharp tang of oil paints on his clothes. I pulled him in closer to me, cradling his head between my breasts. I knew he could hear and feel the heavy pounding of my heart.

Was this really happening? I had wanted it, dreamed of it actually, but I never thought it would ever come to pass. I have never been lucky in the romance department. I hesitate even to admit how long it had been since I had a man in my bed. We weren't exactly in bed, but this wasn't the time to nitpick over semantics.

With one shrug, the kimono fell from my shoulders. I struggled to untie the sash that would free me completely from this suddenly unbearably heavy and constricting garment, and when I finally managed to loosen the knot the robe lay in a soft heap on the floor around me.

Erik brought his face up to meet mine. Our eyes locked as we drew nearer and nearer, and then our lips met in a hot, passionate rage. At that point my mind went blank. All I could think about was the unbridled heat of desire racing through my veins. His lips left mine, traveling down my throat, up to my ear, and back to my own waiting mouth, leaving a wet trail sizzling on my skin. Our tongues met, touched, and slid against each other in an epic exploration that seemed to last a lifetime.

His arms snaked around me, pulling me in closer to him, and I found myself leaning against his solid chest. My bare skin was shocked by the roughness of his denim workshirt, and I struggled to remove it. Ah, yes! Smooth skin, warm and inviting. I ran my hands up and down his bare chest, feeling his prickly chest hairs and the soft, warm skin underneath. He tensed at my first touch, but then relaxed and allowed my fingertips to continue their exploration.

Out of breath, I finally pulled away from his deep, insistent kisses. He wanted more, his hands indicated as they reached for me, but I backed away. Never taking my eyes away from his, I reached for my glass and took a deep drink. I moved in closer, closer, our eyes still locked, my wine-covered lips hovering above his, just a hair's breadth away. He strained his lips to meet mine, open and wanting, and I finally relented, allowing him to taste the sweet wine still lingering there. A groan emanated from somewhere deep inside him.

I couldn't bear the wait of seeing him in all his glory, so I slowly reached back behind me and pulled off his shoes. Then I unbuckled his belt and began to undo his fly. He lifted his hips from the floor to allow me to pull his jeans down and off, and I was surprised - but not displeased - to find that he wore no undergarments. Going commando, is he? That's just fine; there's less for us to have to remove.

I marveled at his long, muscular legs. I traced the length of one leg with my fingertips, from foot to knee, from knee to hip. But I couldn't tear my gaze away from the dark growth of hair between his legs, and from the spectacular male organ that emerged from it.

I teased him, I must confess. My fingertips just barely grazed the surface of his shaft as I leaned over and tasted the flesh of his chest. I licked his skin, tasting the saltiness, as I took in his aroma. He no longer smelled of his paints; now I smelled pure sex.

At that moment I wanted him inside me.

But no, not just yet.

I kept on torturing his erection with my fingers, alternately gliding the soft pads of my fingertips up one side and then gently scraping the edges of my nails down the other. Erik's breathing was more labored, and I could hear every inhale and exhale he made. I kissed down the length of his chest, getting closer to the object of my obsession, and his hands were guiding me there, pushing my head down lower and lower. He dug his heels into the floor.

My soft lips met his hard erection, and Erik tensed every muscle in his body. He remained paralyzed as I continued my exploration, touching, licking, kissing. I took him fully in my mouth, tasting him and teasing him. I retreated and advanced again and again. Then I pulled back.

"Christine, please don't st..."

"Shhh, let's not hurry. We have all the time in the world."

I crept back up to face him and covered his lips with mine. His hands were tangled in my hair. I reached back down to his groin, planning to continue with my hand what my mouth had begun, when suddenly I found myself flung on my back with my arms pinned to the floor.

"I'll teach you not to tease, my dear," he growled in a low voice. His breathing was ragged; his chest was heaving.

Erik was hovering over me, staring hungrily into my eyes. He spread my legs apart with one knee and then brought it up to fit tightly against me. Now it was my turn to moan at the promise of what was to come. He kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, stealing my breath away. And because of the proximity of his knee and the fact that my arms were still held down, I was unable to move.

Huh. As if I wanted to.

He again found my breasts, and he spent what seemed like hours tantalizingly moving from one to the other. He held them in his hands, kneading and squeezing them, licking and kissing them, until I thought I would go mad. I moved my hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding myself against his knee. I took hold of one of his hands and brought it to my mouth, kissing each fingertip, then taking each finger in turn into my mouth, reminding him of what I had done moments earlier to another of his body parts. In response, he shoved his knee even tighter between my legs and moved his kisses down my belly, covering every inch of flesh with his lips. He reached my scar and I flinched. He stopped and gazed up at me with passion-filled eyes.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," I gasped.

"Then don't worry about it. It's fine. It's beautiful."

He resumed his work. He removed his knee from its resting place (and I emitted a cry of protest as he did so), but he immediately replaced it with his hand. And then his fingers began their exploration. I spread my legs wider in invitation. I was wet with anticipation, and his slender fingers slid easily into all my most secret places. All the while he continued his assault of my torso with kisses, moving from my navel to the fullness of my hip to the curve of my waist to the swells of my breasts. He was systematically memorizing every inch of my body. His fingers, meanwhile, continued their own exploration. I cried out as he slid two fingers inside me, deep inside. My hips rose off the floor.

"Oh, God, Erik," I cried, trying in vain to hold back the tears welling up in my eyes. I couldn't catch my breath.

"Erik, please..." I tried to guide him atop me, but realizing what I was doing, he raised his head and grinned a sly little grin at me. Then his head lowered back down, and he resumed his previous actions.

He was resisting me! He was torturing me!

"Oh - please don't - make me - beg for you," I whispered through gasps for air.

Erik ignored my pleas, bringing his lips ever closer to my aching, throbbing sex. Then he was there, his tongue licking me as his fingers moved rhythmically inside me. I felt the contrast of the warmth of his skin on the exposed side of his face on the inside of one thigh to the cool, smooth surface of his mask on the inside of the other as he continued to bring me unimaginable pleasure and unbearable frustration at the same time.

I couldn't stand it. I was in ecstasy, but I was also in hell. My fingers gripped his hair and pulled his head towards mine.

"Please." I was past all bargaining, all teasing, all dignity. I wanted one thing, and he had reduced me to begging for it.

He smiled at me, a mischievous little smile, as his beautiful shining eyes gazed into mine.

"Do you want me?"

"No," was my throaty reply.

He looked a bit shocked at my answer.

"I passed want ten minutes ago," I whispered. "I need you."

He took pity on me I think, for he finally relented and lowered his body onto mine. My legs wrapped around his torso and I locked my ankles together, trapping him so he couldn't reconsider.

I was so hungry for him I shifted my body to meet his. And then, I finally felt what I had been begging for - the full length of him, buried deep inside me. He filled me so completely, stretching me to my limit, and I let out a cry of passion unlike any I had ever uttered.

We fit together so perfectly.

He was so very thorough. He moved his hips up and down, side to side, never taking his eyes off my face. He wanted to see what he was doing to me. I couldn't control my own actions; my body had taken over my mind. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire and I was hypersensitive to his every touch. I could even feel his rock-hard cock growing ever larger inside me.

"Ohhh, Chrisssstinnnne...," he moaned in my ear, sending delicious waves of shivers down my spine.

He possessed me completely. I couldn't speak, breathe, or move. The room was growing fuzzy around us and I could feel myself beginning to black out when his lips again were on mine, breathing more life into me.

His thrusts became faster and more insistent. He grunted with every thrust, matching my higher-pitched moans, and we reached completion together, screaming in celebration of the release. A few more thrusts and he released the last of his seed, but I was unable to respond. I was spent.

Erik leaned down and kissed me, a long, lingering kiss, then he dropped his head down to my shoulder. We lay there, still joined and wet with sweat, unable to move. It took a long while for our breathing to calm.

My legs finally released their death-grip around Erik. Erik slid down the length of my body, forcing his withdrawal from me. I had never felt such emptiness as I did in that moment, and I whimpered in protest. He laid the masked side of his face on my stomach as he shushed me and fondled one of my sweat-covered breasts. I caressed his back with one hand and stroked his hair with my other. We didn't speak, we didn't move. I don't think either of us was capable of doing so.

_oo00**00oo_

Time passed, and it was dark outside. The only light we had in the room was from a small work light near Erik's easel. We drifted in and out of sleep.

I awoke a bit later. Erik had rolled away from me and was fast asleep, lying on his back. I watched his chest rise and fall with every breath. I kneeled next to him and laid a hand on his chest. I could feel his heartbeat. In myself I felt that familiar ache in my loins: I wanted him again.

In one swift motion, I was astride him, leaning over his body and bringing my face down to meet his. I felt my breasts sweep against his chest. I gently placed a kiss on the unmasked side of his forehead, then his nose, then his mouth. Erik awoke with a start.

"Shhh. Relax," I whispered to him with urgency in my voice and fire in my eyes. "I'm not through with you just yet."