Adult-FanFiction.org : Books

No Easy Way	By : secretlysecretly Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7568 -:- 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
- 16
- 17
- 18
A/N: Thank you all for reading and especially BRP for her great reviews! We always appreciate any opinion coming from you guys. Now, as far as the story is concerned, we have warned everybody that this is NOT a Christine friendly phic. If it is not to your liking, you have the choice to simply stop reading. We don't hate Christine and we are avid readers of many shipper-EC fics. Yet, this time we would like to exercise our right to say things the way we see them... So, if you have any ideas for a stimulating conversation, please feel free to drop us a line. Pointless flames will be used as barbecue material...

This is the point where the light smut begins, so minors get out!

******************************************************************************************************

Chapter 17

Despite her astonishment at his appearance, Marianne almost had to laugh at Erik’s guilty expression. He looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘A child could never make my heart race like this though’ she thought to herself. He was absolutely stunning as he stood before her dressed in black, after she had spent a long week daydreaming endlessly about him. She attempted to regain her composure before she spoke again.

“Well Erik? What are you doing here?” her voice seemed to shake him from his surprised state and he straightened his shoulders, transforming into his usual stoic self once more.

“I apologize if I’ve frightened you, but I came to leave this for you.” he stammered awkwardly.

Her eyes left his as she received the rose he held out for her. It was identical to the one he had offered her in the labyrinth; the rose that was now pressed between the pages of her diary, safely tucked away in one of her dresser's drawers. For a moment she just stared at the flower before bringing it up to her face to inhale its sweet fragrance.

“I expected you to return some time tomorrow and wanted you to find it waiting for you in your room.” Erik said somewhat nervously. “Foolish of me really but I must admit I missed you during your absence…” he carried on uneasily.

Marianne’s gaze traveled from the rose to Erik’s face, staring at him bewildered by his words. She never would have thought this man, who always appeared to be calm and collected could express such tenderness.

“I’ve missed you too Erik.” she whispered.

Erik took a step covering the distance between them and gently took her hand in one of his own, lightly touching his lips to her skin.

Marianne was moved by the simple gesture. Without thinking, she brought her free hand to the left side of his face, uncovered by the mask, softly caressing his cheek with her palm. “It’s beautiful Erik.” she sighed, unconsciously willing him to touch his lips to hers.

As if he had heard her silent plea, he lowered his head, his breath caressing her skin. However, just as he was about to cover her waiting lips with his own, he snapped his head back, muttered a “Goodnight Marianne” under his breath and disappeared from her sight, almost jumping from the balcony to escape her presence, his cloak bellowing behind him.

Marianne simply stood there for a few seconds, staring at the spot where Erik had just been standing, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Was Erik just being a gentleman afraid of her reaction to his advances? Had he truly made an advance on her however? She had been the one who craved his kiss and made it blatantly obvious by leaning into him, all but closing her eyes and asking him to kiss her right outside her room.

However, he wasn’t an innocent in this game of seduction they were playing. He had come to her doorstep so to speak, wishing to leave her a ‘welcoming’ present for her to find upon her return.

‘And what a present it is.’ she smiled to herself, bringing the blooming rose to her face and closing her eyes dreamily.

‘Could it be that he missed me just as much as I missed him?’ she thought to herself. ‘Why then did he run away from me as if the devil himself were on his trail? Could it be that he simply didn’t want to kiss me and I misinterpreted his actions? This is so frustrating! Instead of pushing him away, if nothing else then for propriety’s sake, here I am acting like anything but a lady, almost begging him to seduce me! Surely, he was disgusted by my wanton ways and now wishes to have nothing to do with me! Why, oh why did I have to behave so… Oh my! I shall think of it no longer or I will certainly drive myself mad!’

She hid her face in her hands trying to erase all thoughts of her ravishing neighbor from her head, when she felt a pair of strong arms pulling her back against a solid chest. Before she could realize what was happening, she felt an arm snaking around her waist and heard Erik’s deep voice whispering her name in her ear as he gently kissed her earlobe. She shuddered in his arms as she felt his hot breath trailing down her neckline and he buried his head in the crook of her neck. His lips barely touched her skin but Marianne felt like she was on fire and couldn’t stop herself from bringing her arm up to his head and pressing him closer to her as a soft moan escaped her lips.

Encouraged by her reaction, he slowly brought the hand that was resting on her belly upwards, gently cupping one of her breasts. Shaken from her entranced state at his bold action, she jumped at his touch. Sensing her embarrassment, Erik instantly took his hands from her body and swirled her in his arms bringing her face to face with him. Studying her face closely with raw passion burning in his gaze, he searched her eyes for any sign of discomfort from her part, only finding a matching desire to his own burning in the pools of her eyes. Once he was sure that he had not scared her with his ardor, it was mere seconds before he savagely claimed her waiting mouth in a bruising kiss.

Her lips parted beneath his as he slipped his probing tongue between them, fervently exploring her mouth. She answered his kiss with urgency as his tongue found hers and lost herself in his embrace. He lifted his head momentarily with a disbelieving look in his eyes and opened his mouth as if to speak but was cut short by Marianne who brought her hands to his hair pulling him back to her. This time, it was she who swept her moist tongue inside his mouth and seduced his senses with her bold actions.

Unable to hold back any longer, he crushed her body against his, allowing Marianne to feel his raging manhood through her gown. Marianne jerked at the unexpected contact, her wits returning to her abruptly.

‘What am I doing? This cannot be happening! A man is in my bedroom, fondling my body like I’m no better than a common harlot, and instead of pushing him away, I cling to him –begging for his touch.’ Yet, it seemed that her traitorous body was stronger than her failing will for propriety as she kept returning his kisses fervently, unable to resist the fire that consumed her.

Suddenly, as if Erik had been able to read her mind, he pulled back from her, his chest heaving as he tried to collect himself. Marianne couldn’t decide whether she wanted to stomp her foot down like a petulant child who had her favorite toy snatched from her grasp, or whether she should be relieved for this break she was being granted.

She bit her lip shamefully bowing her head, timidly trying to avoid his searching eyes. When he descended his head slowly, she was sure he was about to kiss her once more and was appalled at her own self as she felt her heart swell at the prospect of feeling his lips upon hers again. Despite her shame, her lips parted, inviting him to taste the sweetness of her mouth, but she was surprised to find that he had no intention of kissing her again. Instead, Erik touched his forehead to her own and simply stood there, holding her in his arms as their breathing slowly became steady and they were able to calm down a bit.

“Erik, I…” she stammered, her voice wavering as she tried to fill the uncomfortable silence between them.

“Shhh” was his only reply as he brought his fingers to her quivering lips to silence her. Marianne was sure she was going to faint as Erik gently enfolded her in his strong arms; the soft touch of his lips upon her hair was almost her undoing as they stood there, lost in each other’s embrace.

When he finally pulled back from her, Erik didn’t say a word. He merely brushed her unruly hair back from her face, gave her a soft peck on the lips and then he was out the balcony doors and climbing down the railing of her balcony before she had time to react.

All she could do was bite her swollen lips as she watched him retreat into the night, the chilly air biting into her heated flesh.

‘What the hell was I thinking? Did I think for one moment she would find it romantic that I’m so besotted as to break into her home to leave her a token of my infatuation? What a fool! Have I not learnt anything from the way Christine run away from me? I am as much a fool now as I was then… A lovesick moron, set out to win the affection of his would-be mistress at any cost. Fear and lying and humiliation included.

She must think me utterly insane! Breaking into her bedroom, stalking her, molesting her. No, I did not molest her. Taking advantage of her innocence maybe; but molest her? I would never do that! I was even able to keep my hands to my hideous self with Christine when I had almost lost my mind, I will certainly never add rape to the long list of my heinous crimes!

Can it be rape when the victim itself is eager to become pray in the arms of her tormentor? True, I was the one who initiated that searing kiss, but a lot can be said in my defense of the fact that she made no move to stop me. Instead, she matched my fervor, if not exceeded it by meeting my questing tongue and enfolding herself deeper into my embrace.

I must stop thinking in this manner! This is exactly the path my twisted mind followed with Christine and look how great that turned out! I misinterpreted each and every reaction she had to my presence and still, if one would ask me how it came to pass that she chose that gallant Viscount of hers, I would be a stuttering fool who would have no answers to offer whatsoever.

For I know that she wanted me. At least in the physical sense. Could it be? Could it be wishful thinking? Could it be that I was so mad with jealousy and rage that I took her protests for indecision, her betrayal for coercion, her fear for unspoken passion? Could it be that my need for someone to call my own blinded me to the point were I actually thought that a woman of such beauty and grace could ever think of me as anything but a monster?

Is it the same with Marianne? Do I only see what I want to see or is her desire for me genuine? It has to be! I read it in her eyes. Had I allowed my desire for her to take over, pressing her on where we were standing in her bedroom, she would have succumbed to my will and given herself to me willingly.

She will be mine if I so choose it, I’m sure of it! At least her body will be mine, but is her body all I want from her? Is it merely a female body that I dream of ravishing, or does my need for a female presence in my life go deeper than that? Carnal desires are important, there’s no denying it. I have been yearning for someone to quench the fire inside of me for so long that perhaps I am the sole person in this world who knows how important the human touch is.

However, when I dream of heaven, it is not a vision of myself spending inside a fair maiden; rather, I imagine myself naked and unmasked, being held by a woman who will love me so much that she will accept my abhorrent visage and innumerable vices.

Lately, the image of that woman who holds me in her arms and tells me she loves me unconditionally has been molding into that of Marianne Pinon and that terrifies me! For more than three years now, I never allowed myself to imagine heaven. When you know something is out of your reach, what is the point of trying to catch a glimpse of it? But now. Now I cannot stop the images from flooding my agitated brain. I keep dreaming of what my life would be like were I to wake up next to Marianne every day for the rest of my life.

A life spent in light, with a woman by my side who will not shun me for my horrible face but accept me and my long list of shortcomings, in spite of it. A life spent with someone by my side who will love me for what I am and will give me cause to become the man I know I could be, were it not for my horrid past and the disgust in the eyes of those who have been unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of me. A life where pity and fear will give way to understanding and acceptance from those around me. A life where love will finally find its way to me and free me from this inane existence where I have replaced my need for human interaction with art and lavish belongings.

For the first time in my life I allow myself to dream of that which I know will never be mine. I yearn for a warm, sensuous woman who will challenge my spirit as well as my carnal desire. A woman who is by no means conventional, who is smart and will not take any of my phantom-nonsense. A woman who is daring enough to meet me head on when I am being pompous and irrational but at the same time discreet so as to allow me time and space to reveal my mangled flesh before her eyes in my own time. A woman who is proper enough to blush chastely when I offer her a rose from my gardens and at the same time sensual enough to watch me when I’m swimming naked in a pond at broad daylight.

Not just any woman; that woman could only be Marianne. Only she could be so volatile and so gentle at the same time. Only she would dare to stand face to face with the Phantom and demand that she be treated as an equal. Only she has been able to disregard this horrid mask long enough to find the complex man who is desperate for all the simple things all around him take for granted.

I could love Marianne, I know it. Were I to allow myself get carried away by this whirlwind of emotions that consume me whenever I’m in her presence, I know that I would fast become enamored with her captivating nature. I am almost in love with her now as it is. Since I first met her on that grueling day when she could have met her doom had I not been in the proximity, I cannot seem to drive her out of my mind. Yet, the more taken I become with her, the more frustrated I become at the prospect of courting her.

Could I ever be the man she would want to spend a lifetime with? I could spend the rest of my days trying to make her happy by my side, but would I ever be able to bring her true happiness? She seems to have little care when it comes to my wearing a mask, yet she has no knowledge of what truly lies beneath my hateful disguise. Indeed she appears tolerant of my eccentricity now, but would she be able to stomach the horror that is concealed by my facade?

I allowed myself to harbor such dreams with regards to Christine, only to be humiliated and spurned by her. I am aware now of how ridiculous my hopes had been, and looking back to those grave times I can only assume that I was temporarily insane. How else could one explain my foolishness in believing I could earn the love of that child?

I can laugh at my idiocy now but at the time I was heartbroken. When Christine left me to rot in my lair with only my sordid memories to keep me company, for a fleeting moment I contemplated ending my miserable existence then and there. What a fool I was then! Dying for a woman, no a girl, who loathed the one soul that cared for her enough to soothe her aching heart after the passing of her father. I know now that that was the problem all along. Laying my heart in the hands of a girl who was gullible enough to believe in the existence of an “Angel of Music” past the age of ten and at the same time enough of a harlot to bed the dashing Viscount de Chagny less than a month following to their reunion.

I know now that what I felt for Christine was merely an obsession. I know because I never imagined sharing a lifetime with her. I asked her to, but hadn’t really dreamt of it. All I saw in Christine was a pliable girl who would accept me for what I am. A silly little woman who would be so hypnotized by my music to the point where she wouldn’t mind living in my underground lair. A foolish ingénue who wouldn’t mind sharing my bed in exchange to the assets I had gathered. Well, I guess the Viscount had more to offer and was more swift than I could ever be in my seduction. After all, it took me more than a decade to collect the nerve and reveal that her “Angel of Music” was no more than a sad excuse of a man hiding from the world and its cruelties.

Did I really love Christine? I told her so right before she left me; but did I actually love her or was I merely playing my last card for some much-needed companion in life? Perhaps I did, although every time I’m around Marianne, I feel as though my heart will burst with joy. I never felt as such with Christine.

Surely enough, I craver her body as one would crave water after walking through a desert for a fortnight but that is lust, not love. I was possessive with her to the point where I could have killed that fop fiancé of hers to keep her to myself but, had I truly loved her, wouldn’t it bring me joy to see her happy even if that happiness could only be warranted in the arms of someone else?

Indeed, after all that came to pass and now that I can reflect upon that time without contempt for the human race and lust for Christine blinding my judgment, I doubt I ever loved my apt pupil. If however I didn’t feel love for the girl that bloomed into a stunning woman and held my fascination for such a long time, how can I hope to ever love another?

Perhaps I am incapable of love after being shunned from humans for so long. Perhaps I can only connect with my baser instincts and can never feel something that was denied from me for so long. Still, this woman touches something in me that I never knew existed. She makes me want to become the man who will proudly stand by her side and hold her heart through thick and thin.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s because Marianne is the first person I have ever encountered other than Antoinette Giry who doesn’t seem to fear me. Antoinette is the only other human being who ever stood before me without trembling in fear. Yet, I always knew the predominant reason for taking me into her care at first and not turning me over to the Parisian authorities later was her immense pity for my miserable state. Marianne is the first person to ever see past that. She vehemently denied to take pity in me and has kissed away my doubts whenever I expressed them.

Perhaps it is this that draws me to her; the fact that nobody else has ever regarded me as a simple man who is peculiar enough to wear a mask over the right side of his face. Would she be able to keep up this air of nonchalance around me if she were to see what lies beneath the porcelain? Would she allow me to keep the reason behind my eccentricity secret from her or would curiosity prevail? Would I ever be able to give my heart and soul to her without knowing that she has accepted all of me?

I am a coward, I know. The strange thing is I don’t fear losing yet another woman seemingly from within my grasp; I just never want to see pity reflected in those beautiful hazel eyes of hers. I simply want to have one person look at me and see a man. Not a pitiful creature of darkness, not a genius trapped behind the face of a monster, not the Opera Ghost, just… Erik. Can I show her? Can she bear it?

Am I a coward for trying to hold on to my dignity? Or is it that I am a bigger coward for not daring to risk ever again seeing that rapt fascination burning in her gaze whenever she thinks I am not paying attention?

I could keep her from looking behind the mask. I could make her swear to me that she will never try to find out what it is that I am hiding from the world. Maybe she will show compassion and female curiosity will not overtake her. Maybe she will not mind not knowing if she comes to love me enough.’

These thoughts drifting through his mind, he walked into the music room and straight to his organ. He needed to escape the frustration that threatened to drown him the only way he knew how; through his music. When he started playing, the sounds that emitted from the instrument were tortured as if the organ were crying with him, for him. But then, as he kept on playing, the music slowly transformed into a sweet melody; hopeful and soaring as he felt the tension alleviate from his stiff shoulders and the bitterness lift from his tormented psyche.

That was how dawn found him; exhausted and serene, for the first time in his life hopeful of what was to come, thinking to himself that the day that lay ahead would truly be the first day of the rest of his life. A life of tranquility he so yearned for.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Too much? Too little? Too soon? Too late? Let us know what you think!
- 16
- 17
- 18
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

No Easy Way