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Replaying Past	By : RubyNatulieLee Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7371 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any sort of money off of this based story. I only own the charaters of Esme Lonsdale, Eddy and his sister Crystal, The wig maker, Nicolas and the three boys from Sandor's gang. Everything else I do not own nor belong to me. ]

[This most likely will be one of the longest chapters I write. And just heads up, This is my first sex scene I had to type… I’m not very good at it.]

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His breath was coming in rough pants, her breasts, filled his hand so perfectly, not to small nor did they over flow. So tender and soft, that if he were to squeeze roughly, bruises would form. But hearing the gasp come form his dancer, he contained to feel, to explore. It’s been far to long. Far to long. She heard the sounds of shoes falling as Erik crawled into her bed, her body sinking down in till her head pressed into the pillow, his hard body placed over hers, his weight, resting upon his hip, that lingered at her side, while his upper torso rose over her. Their eyes met and both laid still. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, so many new senses’s engulfing her, holding her tightly.

“Stay with me.”

Her brows forward, her face covered with confusion from his words. He whispered to her, his lips an breath away from her own, before he whispered again, “Say you need me…” But before she could utter a single word, his lips caught her own firmly, roughly. He kissed her with all he had, He felt her body moved restless under his own, and her lips tighten under his, before slowly softening and returning his kisses. She was slipping into the warmth of his arms and his mouth, feeling her lips be prided open but his tongue, which made her whimper a protest into his mouth before it was ignored. Her fingers grabbing hold on his white shirt, upon his shoulder, holding on, as his tongue did wondrous things to her own, making her melt into his embrace.

But, there was a problem. Even as she relaxed and slowly gave into his kisses, his mask kept pressing into her cheek, roughly, the sides raking disturbingly across her tender flesh. But just acting out on her feeling, she reached up with her right hand. Her fingers grabbing his mask. Braking the kiss, letting her press her head into the pillow, her eyes gazing into her Phantoms, who tried to lean back down to capture her lips again. They were like wine to him, making him forget everything, making him melt from the taste. He hungered for more. But what she whispered made him jerk back.

“Your mask…”

“It stays on.” He whispered, his voice covered with rare need. But she felt her fingers trace the edge of his mask, he feared for the worst, before she whispered, making almost a smile. “It hurts my face…. Please remove it, I promise not to look…” But, the question was. Could he trust her? She started up at him, wanting for his answer. But he reached over to the nightstand. Slowly he wiped away a long red thong from it that was used to tie Esmes hair back while she learned to play her violin. He felt her body stiffens and he only smiled that warm smile, before soft kissing the tip of her nose. “Trust me.” He whispered. He saw her think over his words, before slowly giving him a nod. He just wanted to make sure she kept her promise.

Slowly he wrapped the wide silk stsrip around her head, it was long so it went around a good three times, covering her eyes. Even if it was dark in her room. The sun was soon rise and the light will let her see what he grieved. Tying it somewhat tightly, he removed his hands. She laid under him. Her shaft laying in wrinkled upon her small body. Her hair, that he now seemed to notice, was cut short. He frowned at that fact, but his mind raced. She looked liked one of the golden figures within the figures, which held the Opera house up. He smiled in his mind, would she look like it when he removed her gown? He watched her, seeing if she would try to remove the blindfold, but when she didn’t, he slowly took a steady breath. With a trembling hand, he slowly removed his mask.

Esme laid there in wonder, darkness covering her eyes. Blindfolded, she was scared but she didn’t mind. Her Phantom was still hiding, but at least, he was willing to help her get comfortable. That thought made her smile. A soft ‘click’ was heard, making her head turned towards the sound. She was about to reach out, to see what she heard. It sounded like something heavy was placed upon her nightstand. But before she could, Eriks fingers took her chin, turning her head back forward, and her lips covered by his own again. She didn’t feel the roughness of the mask any more and her heart over flowed with warmth to know he finally removed it. Even if she still couldn’t see. It was all right. Her arms rose, wrapping around his neck, pressing her lips back into his own, letting their kiss deepen when his tongue slipped between her lips to drink deeply from her.

Eriks’ mind ran with thoughts, with warning. He only came to check up on her, that was all. To make sure she was safe within her room, but when he saw her there. All alone and beautiful, he wanted to take the chance, he refused himself when he was with Christine. He wanted to take what he found and taste, to touch the forbidden flesh that was denied to him. His clothes felt tight on him and his skin burned to remove them. So he did. Taking his shirt, he started to remove its attire from the waistband of his trousers, ripping it from over his head and onto the floor. The cold air touched his skin, making him sigh from the relief, before taking a deep breath. When Esmes’ hands slowly started to lower from the air, touching the hot surface of his chest. Her body tightens at the felt of his muscle, so hard and firm, flexing under her gentle touch.

Her minded started to wonder; he was disrobing himself. Her cheeks flamed. She took her time, since she could not see, she wanted to feel. She felt every space her fingers could grasp. From his shoulder to arms, from arms to chest, to his stomach, feeling each muscle tighten. A deep groan passed threw the air, making her hand still where it lingered, just above the bugle that formed from her innocent seeking. He never felt this way before, not even with his singer. Which made him slightly happy. To know, that his innocent love for Christine was not greater for the growing need for Esme. “Sit up.” He whispered harshly, his voice giving off the want he felt. “I want to remove your gown.” He watched her lay there for a moment, as if regretting let it get this far. If she didn’t do what he asked, he was going to go mad and he feared to know what he would do. He didn’t take so refusal very well. Which he meant to fix later on in his life but never found the reason or why.

He watched her trembling hands move to untie the collar around her throat, but her pace was to slow for him. With the energy from raw need, his hands grabbed a handful of her satin nightgown, and ripped it down the middle, pulling it from her body. A surprise gasp passed threw her lips as her arms quickly went to cover her exposed body, her legs bending up, to cover the view he had of her down below. He was like an animal, within the darkness, she had no idea what he was going to do. She could not see it coming, she shock her head at herself. She shouldn’t have done this, she should have kicked him off her bed and told him to get out. He hurt her and now he was going to try and do sinful things to her that made her body tighten and burn, and seek out what he wished to do. Her body jerked to sit up, but was pushed back down. She felt him then, his body shoved between her legs making her cry out in fear, his fingers grasping her wrists tightly, trapping them beside her head. He was scaring her. Her heart was racing. She heard his deep breathing and felt his grip tighten, making her whimper out in a protest.

Beautiful. Erik could do nothing but gaze in mere silence and stillness. She laid under him, her body thrust up to his own. Her golden tan was everywhere, upon her breasts, showing she had walked nude under the burning sun. His fingers tingled, telling him that the sun rays still lingered within her flesh. Her breasts, oh how he could stare at them for hours. So round and soft, rising and falling from her breaths, causing those whiskeys colored nipples to poke up, as if begging for him to fondle them. But he will, in due time. But his eyes lowered, down her small rib cage, to her flat stomach, her little belly button, taunting him to taste. But what his eyes saw next, made his groin tighten painfully, and his member to grow thick and hard. Her legs were forced open, giving him a good view of her womanhood. A nest of red golden curls tailing down between her legs were the pink moist lips of her sex rested. His mouth went dry from the site, he needed to do something more.

Esme left her arms rise up over her head, being held together just by one his own. This movement caused her breasts to thrust up into the cold air and her back to arch, her waist pressing into his own, feeling the rough fabric of his trousers. The friction made her cry out weakly, along with the warm breath that teased her right breast. He was making her grow hot and burn for his touch. She wanted him to touch her, even if her mind scream for no more. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples and started to suckle, making her fingers curl into the pillow in which they were pressed into. He feasted upon her, making her body swim within the warm liquid of pleasure. She never knew this kind of pleasure; no doubt her father wanted her too in the first place. But he was going to make her burn more, for his fingers slipped between their bodies and touched her.

‘There’

Her body bucked up as a cry passed her lips, it did nothing but make his mouth move from the breast he was teasing to the next. Nor did it stop his hand, from parting her lips and finding the swollen bud, pressing his forefinger firmly into it, making her hips arch up, pushing into his own.

Erik groaned from the wet of her heat upon his groin. He wanted to take his time and know everything about her body. About every little perfection, every freckle he found, every place that made her tremble and whimper in pleasure. But her innocent movements and wet heat upon his fingers was making it far harder, making him lose himself within the lust. Pushing himself closer, he let the bulge that had grown, pressing into her wet center, he watched, seeing her lips part in a breathless gasp, her legs bending into the bed, sinking, digging the heels of her feet into the covers. And he started, his hips started to move, pressing into her swollen pearl, moving in the dance as old as time, watching, seeing his dancers reaction. Seeing her fingers dig into the pillow, her lips pressed close before parting in little meowing cries. He felt her legs start to tighten around his waist, telling him he could go harder, go faster. He didn’t want to deny what her body seems to beg for. He rocked into her, making her blood boil and her skin tighten. He was making her long for something, making her want something she did not know. He abused her body in sweet torture. Making her cry out in little pants, which was soon covered into little muffles with his lips sealed her own. Drinking up her bliss, leaving her to grow weak under him. His body was controlling her own and she didn’t have the strength, or the will to stop him.

He couldn’t hold back any more. “Forgive me.” He whispered into her lips, his breathing just as rash as her own. “I wanted to go slow, to taste your heaven.” While he spoke his words, that made her melt into his bones, his free hand that had touched her wet center unbuttoned his trousers, yanking them down and opens, letting his stiff cock leave its clothed cage. He smiled to himself, to see himself rise, rising from the dark curls of his groin, resting in wait upon his stomach. “But your body won’t let me.” Letting her arms go, which seem to grab the pillow still and keep where they were. His hands slowly placed themselves upon her small hips. She was so small. He frowned to himself, he would surly hurt her with his entry, but his body didn’t care. He wanted her, and her body seemed to want his own. Gently he lifted her hips, letting him guide his staff to her opening. “Forgive me…”

She felt something poked at her, and she only frowned at it. What was he doing? She didn’t understand. But all her thoughts shattered, her mind went black, as whatever was poking at her, slid in. The wetness that had formed from his fingers let it squeeze into her passage easily, but he was stretching her muscles, making her body jerk and her voice rise up in a cracking cry. She wasn’t ready, she shock her head, her voice trapped within her throat as she struggled to scream for him to take it out. But he seemed to be lost within his own world, for his hands gripped her waist tighten and one split second, he thrust roughly into her, filling her with his staff, Braking threw the thin layer of her virginity. He let out a deep groan from her body, she was so small, so tight. Her muscle gripped onto him tightly, almost making himself burst into her. But he stilled himself, fearing if he move, his seed would spill. But, like he thought. She was an innocent, a smile touched his lips. The thought of being her first man, to be inside of her, sent joy into her heart, and his member grow a little more, if possible.

It hurt. A painful cry passed threw her lips, shattering all of Erik’s thoughts. Unbearable, burning pain sliced threw her. Her hands shot out, shoving at his chest. He was hurting her, he was splitting her in half. Her muscle tighten around his muscle, her voice cracking out in a sob as tears began to fall from under the blindfold. He hurt her again, she wanted him to take it out, to leave her alone, broken and battered. But her body was pulled up slowly, gently into his arms. Wrapping her within the warmth of his body. His mouth rested by her ear, making her whimper as he whispered. “I’m sorry… The pain, it will go away.” Or at least, he hoped so. But She only stayed still like him, but he could hear her breath, hint the struggle. He wanted to move, wanting to take her deeply and let them both go to the heaven bliss that waited. But he will wait, even if he died trying.

His words were true about the pain. Slowly he started to fade into a mere numbness. But soon that too was gone. And she laid in warmth, inside and out. Erik kept utterly still, giving her the ease she needed. But her lips did part, as she let her voice whisper out. “… I-Its not that bad now…” He slowly let her go, his eyes staring down upon her face. He had the strongest urge to rip that blindfold off her, but fear grabbed him. He wasn’t wearing his mask. If he did take the satin fabric from her eyes, she would see his face and the passion and heat they felt would quickly grow cold and she would scream, and try to get away from him. Pain hit his chest, he wanted to see her eyes grow wide, to cloud over in pleasure when she reached her point of no return. But he damned himself the pleasure. Pushing himself up over her, his hips slowly withdrew, hearing her breath hitch up a pitch before seeping out in a sigh when he pushed back in, filling her. She fit him like a glove, so tight. Letting out a soft groan, he kept his steady pace for her, letting her get use to his size, letting her grow use to the movement, to the pleasure that was surrounded them.

Her body was burning, his hips pushed into her, filling her, so deeply. The pain was gone and only to over powering pleasure grabbed her, holding her for dear life. Soft little moans passed threw her lips, as her hands reached out blindly, seeking for his shoulders. She needed to touch him, to hold him. But not as badly as her eyes, that cried to see him. She wanted to watch him, she wanted to see his face and let him see what his body was doing to her own. But he refused her that right. She didn’t care no more, she didn’t care what she saw. In her heart, she knew. Deep down, he was handsome no matter what and nothing in the world. Not even his face, could change her feelings. She loved him. The fact hit her hard, like the moment Erik started to grow faster and harder, pushing himself deep, making her jerk and cry out, feeling him push into her very womb.

His body felt like he was on fire, his very muscles tightening to the point where he feared they would rip. Her body, so tight and hot, made his hips move faster, pushing harder into her tender passage. Getting those little yelps from her. Never had he felt this alive, never had he wanted a single woman in a way he wanted Esme. Her struggling movements under him only made him groan, her tighten muscles with every buck made his hands tighten their hold upon her hips, lifting her up from the mattress, helping her met his thrusts. He was reaching the heavens’ that was denied to him. And to there, she was taken with him, his very own angle, which saw past the man who seems a beast, but saw the beauty inside. He would never let her go, never.

“P-Phantom...”

His chest tightened from the pleading words leaving her mouth. He needed more, he needed her to say his name.

“Erik… Say it.”

Her mind, slowly started to go blank, her body was reaching for something. She was scared, she didn’t understand she was burning from the movements, her body begging for more, wanting him to touch her very soul. But his words made her whimper. What was he saying to her, in the mix of the passion, was he spilling his own name? But he started to take out his years of loneness and his anguish upon her, filling her to the point, where she felt like she was going to burst.

“Say it.”

It wasn’t a question, she heard the command and need in his words, Her nails bit into his shoulders, his body lowering over her own. Feeling his own beads of sweat, telling her, he too, was trying to fight the fire that they both were making. Her nails raked along his spine, holding him close, to her very heart that beated so quickly. And with her trembling voice, she uttered his name, feeling his lips press into her temple, raining kisses upon her face before his harsh words welcomed her. “Whom is taking you?” He growled, his hands resting on both sides of her head, curling into the pillow, helping him buck closer, deeper, “Whom did you let between your legs?” His voice was growing, he wanted to hear her. He wanted her to know as well as himself, that he had her. She belonged to him. “Tell me! Tell me you need me. Say you’ll never leave me.” His words were rushing out of his mouth, words he longed to tell her but kept inside. He felt his point coming, he wanted to brake with her. Reaching his left hand between their joined bodies, he touched her there, making her back arch and her voice sing out, as he cried out one last time. “Who do you belong too?”

Her bodies could take no more, She had touched the warmth of heaven and her body broke. Her climax shattered violently. Washing the heat and passion that filled up inside of her from heaven, and was sent back down to earth, where she cried out, feeling her body grow weak from the sudden attack.

“Erik!”

~~~~~~~~{@

The sun slowly started to rise over the town, letting its warm rays’ try to seep threw the winters breath. Upon the steps of one of the grand masons, the light first hit, waking those who were inside. Raoul laid awake, his arms behind his golden head. He stared at the ceiling, his mind refusing him the pleasure of sleep. Tonight, he would see his little red ruby, and he will take her. He smiled to himself within the darkness, the curtains at his window, letting the light seep threw the bottom. Its’ been to long, since he got the chance to try someone new. Before he married, he had the pick of the litter. In till he married Christine. He loved her more then any other women he ran across, but it wasn’t the pure love, to make him stay with her. Of course he would stay ‘married’ to her. His love, was more like a childhood sweetheart type, he would keep her, and he cared for her. But she was lacking when it came to bed manner. He liked women who had fire and passion. Christine was to innocent, laying under him, with love in her eyes, but never letting him go as far as rough play. He had to be tender, gentle and sweet. When he longed to throw her on the carpet floor, thrust her legs wide and take her there. Hard and fast. But he dismissed the idea, making him turn to seek that denied pleasure elsewhere. Which was working out just fine with him.

And she didn’t seem to notice a bit.

But the thought of taking Esme as he’s new bed mate made his groin tighten, his manhood thicken. By the way she acted with him, she wouldn’t mind the rough play. To be taken wherever he found her. Be it outside in the allies’, or even on the dinner table, when food didn’t fit to fill his stomach. Her passion was like fire, he thought, to match the glowing locks of her hair. Tonight he would woo her, she seemed one of those types, who had honor. Even thou women’s honor died long ago, in the lasses shoes anyway. So he would take his time, like he did with Christine. He would get her, and when he did, it would be worth it.

A smile cracked upon his young face, perhaps. If he liked the way she was under the sheets, he might keep her. He could buy her a little cottage on the out land of the town. Somewhere private. He could send her there to live, he would take care of her, buy her so many dresses, jewels, anything her little heart could desire. While he was given the pleasure to have her, to control her any way he wanted. His manhood stirred again, his throat closing as he pressed down a groan that rose. He would make her his mistress. Who, he noted. He would visit more then should. Another chuckle left his throat, stirring his wife that slept at his side. Her little mumbles of protest to wake whispered out, before her pale body rolled over, resting herself upon his side. Her brown hair slipping along the bed covers, her pretty face resting upon his chest. Her naked form tangled within his own, holding him close to her, before welcoming her dreams again. Staring down at her, he gave a little smile, since the thought of his fire color red head made him hard and thick with want, he might as well make use of it. Rolling Christine upon her back, stirring her from her dreams again, letting her wake, he kissed her breathless, taking her body, while he thought of what was to come.

Tonight.
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Replaying Past