I sadly don't own the Phantom or any other characters created by G. Leroux, S. Kay and A. L. Webber, but they always have a place in my heart.

Here it is, the last chapter of the story, after more than 4 years! Big thanks to Luthien Saralonde for the help and support she has shown me over the last years!

Also, a big thanks to ALL my readers, and especially to those who favorited and reviewed this story! Thank you all so much! Danke schön!

BONUS – TOGETHER AT LAST

As soon as they had closed the door behind them, Erik drew her close and kissed her deeply, wanting her to sense all the love and devotion he felt for her, as well as finally giving into his need to feel her close.

Ever since they had spent the night in Joséphine's bed to fend off Clara's suspicions about their marriage, Erik was awfully aware of the pull she had on him. That she longed for his touch, enjoyed his caresses felt like a dream come true to him, and aroused him to no end.

Having learnt his lesson from the past to not force anybody to do something, he had waited patiently for Joséphine to approach him, although every time he was in proximity to her, his whole being ached to pull her close, to touch her.

He was still amazed by the fact that in one of the darkest moments he had ever experiences he had stumbled upon the love of his love.

Erik broke the kiss when he felt Joséphine tugging at is mask, making it once more clear to him that she wanted him, no matter his disfigurement. He thought his heart would burst with all the love and joy he felt.

His hand covered hers and in one fluid movement, mask and wig fell to the floor.

Their clothes followed, both of them not really registering whose garments came of first, and neither caring about it.

Joséphine was in a daze, her excitement mixing with curiosity and a certain nervousness. But it felt so right being in Erik's arms.

She had not known that they had moved until her legs collided with the edge of the bed.

It was that little distraction from their passion play that made Joséphine feel self-conscious, realising that she was standing almost naked before him and wearing only the rather plain chemise she had worn under her dress.

She moved her hands upwards to cover her breasts but, sensing Erik tensing up, laid her hands on his chest instead. She might feel insecure, this being her first time after all, but Erik's inferiority complex and insecurities were still stronger, being so deeply ingrained within him after everything he had experienced so far in his life that he interpreted the smallest hesitation as rejection.

She only hoped that this would cease under the constant care and affection she would show him.

Erik let out a breath he had not known he had been holding. When he saw her arms move, he really thought that she was going to cover herself up, no longer wanting to proceed. He felt a stab in his heart, but he also accepted the oncoming rejection. He would rather spend the rest of his life without ever touching her than being completely without her at all.

What unmitigated joy he felt when his fears were unfounded and her hands rose to touch him instead. A smile broke out on his face and he smashed his lips on hers.

"Erik," Joséphine spoke against his lips.

"Mhm," he answered, not really wanting to stop.

Joséphine at last broke the kiss, pulling away a few centimetres so she could look at him. She smiled when she saw Erik's eyes glued to her lips, already missing the contact.

She called his name again and he snapped to attention.

"We really need to do something about you always expecting the worst," she told him. Erik looked down sheepishly, but she drew her arms around him, pulling him close.

"I want you, Erik, never doubt that," she murmured against his neck, bestowing gentle kisses on his sensitive skin.

Erik's arms came around her, enveloping her in a tight embrace.

"I love you, Joséphine," he whispered and, reassured by her affections, gently lowered her onto the bed.

Soon the rest of their clothes were shed, and their bodies pressed together to make as much contact as possible.

Joséphine's whispered, "Erik, please," would have been all the invitation he needed, but he wanted to be completely sure.

"Are you ready?" he asked, unable to keep himself from searching her face for any sign of hesitation. There was absolutely none.

"Yes," she breathed, drawing him ever closer. Erik positioned himself and pushed. Joséphine gasped and tensed up when he tore her maidenhood. Erik stilled, giving her time to adjust to the sensation. He kissed her gently, and started to move again once he felt her relax. It was absolute and utter bliss being united this intimately with the woman he loved. Soon his wife was panting underneath him, her body, like his, covered with a fine sheen of perspiration.

Joséphine had never thought that anything could feel this good. True, it had hurt in the beginning, but once the pain had lessened, Erik's movements started to create the most wonderful sensation within her, and she felt as if she was going to bust into a million pieces at any moment.

Nothing else mattered except the man on top of her, and she stared in wonder at his face: his eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concentration, making the marred side of his face stand out even more. She had thought it impossible to feel even more deeply for him than before, but, being so close to him, feeling him move inside her, moved her to tears.

Tentatively she reached up to caress his cheek and Erik's eyes snapped open.

Erik looked down at her, taking in her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. She was absolutely beautiful.

He stilled his movements for a moment, then pushed into her with renewed vigour. Joséphine moaned, her hands flying to his back, her fingernails grazing over the sensitive scar tissue.

Their movements became increasingly frantic, until suddenly Joséphine's eyes flew open in surprise, a silent scream escaping her mouth. Her body convulsed around him, bathing him in her heat, and Erik could not restrain himself any longer. He let himself go and soon followed her over the edge.

Once they had calmed down somewhat, Erik slowly rolled off of her to rest at her side. One hand stayed at her hips, drawing lazy circles over her skin.

Joséphine rested her head at his shoulder, gazing at him with wondrous eyes.

"Is it always going to be like this?" she asked after a while.

"I certainly hope so," he answered, eliciting a giggle from her.

Erik looked at his wife with deep affection. He had never felt more complete than right now.

Suddenly he jumped from the bed and began searching for something in the pile of clothes on the floor.

Joséphine sat up in bed with a puzzled look on her face.

"Erik, what are you doing?"

Apparently he had found what he had been looking for, for he returned to the bed, hiding something behind his back.

"Erik? What is it you've got there?"

Erik sat down beside her, and moved his hand to the front, holding a small velvet box in his palm. Joséphine gasped, her gaze shifting back and forth between Erik and the box.

"It may not be the perfect moment to give you this-" he began, opening the box to reveal an ornate rose gold wedding band, engraved with a central medallion set with a luminous pear. The sides were adorned with floral figures and a curling pattern on the edges. It was the most extraordinary and beautiful ring she had ever set eyes upon, "-but I cannot wait any longer."

He rose from the bed to kneel down beside it. Tears were already streaming down Joséphine's face, the fact that they were both still naked completely forgotten.

"Joséphine Perrault, will you accept this ring and wear it as a symbol of our love?"

"Yes, yes of course!" Joséphine exclaimed before flying into Erik's arms, making them both land ungracefully on the floor.

Erik shook his head, laughing. "That was not really how I had imagined this to be."

Joséphine flushed red and sat up, pulling him with her. "I am sorry, Erik."

"Don't be, my love. Especially given how our marriage started out, I should have known that my asking for your hand would be anything but ordinary," he told her, still smiling.

Once they were comfortably on the bed again, Erik gently took her hand and put on the ring.

"You mean the world to me, Joséphine. I don't think that I would have ever been able to rise from the darkness I was in without you. You saved my life. You are my life," Erik told her sincerely, making her cry again.

Joséphine gazed down at the ring at her hand, topping the one of her mother, then back up at her husband.

Her life had changed so drastically since that fateful night at the church. When she had gone out to find someone to marry her, she never would have thought that she would find the love of her life, and even less that it would come in the form of the infamous Phantom of the Opera.

But no, she corrected herself. The Phantom was gone, disappeared into the fires that took down the Opera Populaire, from whose ashes had risen the man at her side. Erik Perrault, architect, musician and overall genius, and most importantly, her husband whom she loved with all her heart.

THE END