Do I Dream Again? | By : LaurieBaker Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 10050 -:- 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. |
Explicit sex ahead, so don’t say I didn’t warn you...
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She had not meant to kiss him...
All Christine had wanted was to know the truth. And suddenly he was there, everywhere...overpowering her senses and emotions until she could not hold back her tears. She could not help but to fall down upon her knees in pain. She could not stop herself from lashing out at him with words of anger and betrayal. Once more, she felt like a helpless puppet in her own life, used and manipulated. How many tears had she shed for him in grief? And here he was alive and well, still determined to follow her to the grave...
Nothing had changed. Erik still even dressed the same familiar outfit of a silken shirt of white and dark pants. He looked the same with his slicked back hair and unyielding mask. He still laughed at her cruelly, making inappropriate jokes, scaring her with his wild laughter.
And yet when he said he would go away from London, she could hear the sadness and pain in his voice. Just like when she had taken off his mask for the first time in the darkness of his lair. Just like when she had left him alone with his music box.
She had not meant to kiss him...
She had only meant to touch him with a comforting softness as if she were his mother. But she felt the scars upon his back through the silk of his shirt. And images came to her from the stories that she had heard from Raoul. He recollected Madame Giry’s claims of Erik living life in a cage at a gypsy fair, beaten into submission by his cruel taunting masters who were determined to gain profit from his misery. As she felt the lines of the damaged flesh, she knew that the stories were indeed true. As she imagined the man before her so abused, her anger softened.
More than anything else in the world, she yearned to take away all of the pain in his life that he had ever known. She knew that it was impossible. She was not the savior that he always seemed to think that she was. She would never be able to erase all of his memories or ease all of his hurt. She was only a woman, not an angel on a pedestal.
But perhaps there was a way for them...
If they could only forget their pasts of shame and pain, of mourning and loneliness...if only for tonight...
She had not meant to kiss him...
But before she knew it, she pulled the offending mask off his face, not wanting the barrier between them any longer. She kissed his ruined cheek, knowing no repulsion for his imperfection was a part of him. And she felt his misshapen soft lips press against her mouth, demanding more of what she had only just begun to give. Trapped in the circle of his arms, she felt his tongue search inside of her mouth and she nearly pulled away in shock. Even Raoul had never dared to do such a scandalous thing! Yet if this is what pleased Erik, she would let him caress her tongue with his own for it did not hurt. In fact, she rather like the shared intimacy, discovering the taste of him.
All thoughts of the past were gone now as she could only be aware of the present, of what it felt like to be a lover for the first time, of what it was like to finally give in to her tormenting angel and ghost.
Christine wondered if he had known another woman. He seemed to move with a sort of confidence, a slow sureness that had been lacking before. Even in all of her ignorance of the ways of the flesh, she sensed the change in him. Such a thought that another woman may have known him in such a way made her horribly upset, so she pushed it out of her mind stubbornly. Whoever she had been, she was not here now.
With a soft gasp, Christine felt the pressure of a mattress at the back of her legs. When had she allowed him to take her into his bedroom? In this surreal atmosphere of night and candles, even the simple apartment seemed like a maze in itself. In any case, she must have blindly followed him where he had led her, too lost in his kiss to care where they were going.
Erik coaxed her down upon her back, pulling feverishly at her nightgown until her breasts were naked before him. She meant to say that such a thing was wrong, that they were not married and that he should not touch her in such a way. Yet when he buried his face into her exposed flesh, hungrily nuzzling at her nipples, she could only mew in helpless pleasure. Making one last attempt at virtue, she reached up to push him away only for his hands to cover her wrists and pin them down onto the bed.
After some moments, he released her, yet she no longer moved to escape from him. Rather, her curious and greedy fingers ran through the thin hair along his scalp, along the back of his neck, down the broad expanse of his scarred back. Unable to find the breath to voice what she wanted, she yanked at his shirt until she was able to slide her fingers up under the silken cloth, feeling the scarred flesh of his back. The touch of his skin combined with his insistent mouth upon her breasts made her feel so strange, just like she had felt in her last dream. Her insides were melting and weeping and opening up to him.
“Please...” she begged, not even knowing what exactly she was pleading for.
His masculine grunt of satisfaction only made her ache more.
Pulling away from her breasts, he impatiently ripped away at her nightgown and her undergarments until she was completely naked underneath him. She knew that trying to cover herself with her hands was pointless. She could do nothing but close her eyes and blush furiously underneath the heat of his gaze.
“You are so beautiful, Angel,” he murmured as his mouth wandered along her shoulder, down her arm, upon her bare stomach. “So beautiful...”
When she realized where he intended to kiss her next, she stiffened in shock and fear.
“Erik, no!” she cried out.
“Let me love you, my Angel,” he whispered, coaxing her thighs open wide, placing her legs over his shoulders. “Let me...”
With an iron grip, he held her hips in place as he buried his mouth down in that forbidden place. At first, she squirmed about in horrid embarrassment, but her piety caved in to the incredible hunger being stoked in her loins. Oh, this had to be the worst sort of sin of all, even worse than touching herself! Yet her immoral body craved more of this sort of kissing. On and on, his tongue explored inside of her, teasing and tickling. And she was sure that she would go mad, forever in a state of lust as he kept on with his sweet torture, her hips trapped in his formidable grasp.
Making a small sound of distress, Christine even tried to move away to no avail.
“Don’t be afraid...” he said gently. “Let it happen, love.”
Persistently, he kept teasing her with his mouth, circling the small nub at the front of her womanhood with his tongue. She knew that she was moaning and shivering and shrieking and yet could not seem to stop herself. Something was building up inside, an awesome frightening mounting thing that made Christine thrash about with excited anticipation and dread. Then suddenly, the most wonderful waves of pleasure and release assaulted her again and again, causing her muscles to spasm and quiver repeatedly. Too far gone to feel shame, she thrust up her hips against his mouth frantically, clinging on to the mysterious feelings for as long as she could.
After he had drained every ounce of pleasure that he could out of her body, Erik then pulled her to his side and stroked her hair lovingly. Even though the violent spending was over, Christine still felt as if her body were no longer her own as she was overcome with the most dizzying sort of relaxation, feeling as if she were floating and on the edge of passing out into a deep sleep.
“Oh, Christine...” he whispered huskily into her ear. “Christine...does this not feel so right, so splendid? We were always meant to be like this. Always...”
She did not answer him. Indeed, she could not answer him, but could only gasp for breath.
“May I know you as a husband knows a wife, Christine?” he asked. “I know we are not married yet; but if you like, we shall marry on the morrow. I want you so much, my love.”
“Yes,” she whispered without a second thought. “I belong to you, Erik. Only you...”
As he undressed, Christine took in the sight of him. He was so handsome, every part of him. Even when she saw the large length of his manhood, she was no longer afraid of him but admiring. She knew there would be inevitable pain with their joining, but she wanted to be with him in every way that she could. Her Angel had come back to her. And she would spend the rest of her life making him happy.
“You’re so beautiful...” she sighed in feminine appreciation, smiling softly in the candlelight.
“You’re the first person to ever tell me such a horrid lie!” he teased with a soft smile before lowering himself next to her on the bed.
The naked weight and feel of him was exquisite. He must have felt the same as she heard his soft exclamation as his naked chest rubbed against her own. Even when she thought that any further physical yearning on her part was impossible, she needed more of him. She wanted to feel him inside of her, taking her and claiming her. She wished that she had the words to tell him how happy she was. No, it was not happiness, but deeper than that. Burying her face into his shoulder, she began to feverishly plant baby kisses along his flesh, not knowing how else to express herself.
“You’ll be mine forever, Christine,” he crooned. “Forever.”
“Yes,” she answered urgently, throwing her arms about him. “Yes.”
Not until she heard Erik curse did she even know that something was wrong.
Then she heard the knocking sound at the door.
“Ignore it,” Erik ordered harshly.
But whether they liked it or not, they were cruelly yanked from their world of love.
“FIRE! You got to get out at once!”
Christine recognized the voice as that of Mildred Hobbes.
“There’s a fire! Run for your lives!”
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