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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.

Chapter List
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A/N: After the ravages of Hurricane Katrina, I thought we could all do with a little lovin’ from Erik....so this is rated for sex below. My thoughts and good wishes are with all of those who have suffered from the terrible disaster.

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And with music, my soul began to soar...and I heard as I never heard before...

Erik’s voice was the most beautiful sound imaginable. It always had been.

With her eyes closed, Christine allowed the words and the tones and the notes of the Angel of Music’s honey-laced voice to wash over her and carry her off to somewhere far away...where there was no sorrow or guilt or death. As she sang the love duet that Erik had written, the one of Cathy and Heathcliff reuniting in death, she did not have to pretend that she was in the throes of rapture with her lover on the moors of the English countryside...for she was indeed in her own private Eden. Indeed, she felt as if she had returned home from a long journey. How ironic it was that while being held in captivity by this dangerous man, she had never felt more safe than she did at this moment. In fact, she almost thought that she might be happy. The sensation was unfamiliar to her.

When their song ended, Christine did not open her eyes. She was in no rush to return to reality.

The shock of Erik’s lips against her own startled her, causing her to jump slightly. His mask tickled against her cheek. She trembled as his mouth and tongue teased her, demanding either reciprocation or rejection. Stunned, Christine pulled away, shifting her hips slightly on the small piano bench that they were both sitting on. For a moment, she feared that she might fall on her backside right on the plush red carpet.

Opening her eyes, she gazed at Erik, feeling as if she were truly seeing him for the first time. His expressive eyes were uncharacteristically tender. She saw what he must have been like as a young boy, hungry for a morsel of affection from a world that hated him. She saw him as he was now, consumed with passions that had been so long repressed that he could not seem to distinguish one emotion from another.

The vulnerability was fleeting. At the loss of contact, his mouth drooped into his customary hateful sneer as his eyes hardened into stony cynicism. He stiffened with resolve as if he were preparing to be slapped by her hands or her words. She should strike him for taking such bold advantage of her. Indeed, he deserved far worse for all of the times he had deceived her. Yet she could not bring herself to rebuke him.

Not tonight.

She just wanted to hold on to that magical world that they alone knew. Just for a little longer...

Swallowing with trepidation, Christine raised a trembling hand to stroke his bare cheek. His anger melted away at once as he closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of her touch. Then he covered her fingers with his own, greedily grasping onto even that small amount of intimacy, no matter how small.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze was of such strong intensity that it nearly took her breath away.

“Christine?” he mouthed silently as if he were afraid to break the spell between them.

Gently, Christine returned his kiss, placing her lips against his and hearing him inhale sharply as she did so. For a moment, she remained still, unsure of what to do next. Despite their past encounter, she was still very unskilled in the art of lovemaking. She touched her tongue shyly to his own, repeating how they had kissed that night.

Releasing a deep throaty moan, Erik pulled her so close that she could barely breathe as he took all that she could give. Holding both of her hands into his own, he was content simply to explore her mouth slowly and thoroughly, allowing her to become accustomed to his touch. This was no heated hurried whirlwind as it had been the last time. And the longer they kissed, the more that she yearned for him.

As Christine continued to learn the ways of love, she also knew one thing for certain. She would not fight him tonight.

Erik’s kisses began to grow in intensity. His hold on her became tighter, so much so that she was trapped in the circle of his arms. And he practically growled like an animal as he began to tear at the buttons of her blue and white floral gown. The small little popping sounds of the loose buttons falling upon the floor barely registered for her. She did not cry out when he lowered the torn gown down to her waist, baring her to his gaze, clad in nothing but her chemise and corset. Erik’s hands were everywhere...on her neck, her shoulders, her waist. When he cupped her breasts and massaged them through the silk of her chemise, Christine cried out in excited response, feeling dizzy and faint.

“Please, Erik...” she gasped. “My corset...”

Immediately, Erik untied the bothersome strings at her back, mumbling under his breath that he did not know why women insisted on wearing such horrid garments. The loathsome corset was thrown across the room without hesitation.

“Before we continue, we should be in the proper setting,” he stated simply before sweeping her up into his arms, skirts and all.

As Erik carried her into the bedroom, she nuzzled her face into the tender flesh of his neck, feverishly kissing at the exposed skin. Having been encouraged in her bold caresses, she now found that she could not make herself stop. How had she ever survived for so long without this man? His strength, his charisma, his voice, his scent, his feel...she felt as she were absorbing every aspect of him into her own being.

Lowering her upon the bed, Erik gazed at her with a fiery hunger as he rapidly undressed, tearing at his own clothes in his haste. She would have been frightened had her own urgent need not matched his own. As she saw him naked before her, she blushed and lowered her eyes. It was not that he repelled her. Quite the opposite, in fact. He could have been a classic sculpture in his perfection. But one could not fight a lifetime of maidenly shyness in one night. She tried to occupy herself by taking her skirt off, yet her fingers seemed completely clumsy and useless.

“Let me,” he coaxed softly.

At first, he tried to untie the pesky ribbons. But then he again lost patience, ripping at the hated fabric until her dress was in a ruin.

“My apologies,” he mumbled harshly as he pulled at her shoes and her stockings. “I shall purchase you a new one. I’ll buy you a hundred new ones.”

Christine realized that she was the way that he wanted her, completely and helplessly naked underneath him. Yet she was not afraid. She felt as if all of her life had been leading up to this moment. They were destined to be together like this, for better or worse.

As the weight of his body pressed against her own, she thought she would die from the sweet feel of his flesh beside her own. Drowning in his kisses, she could have purred like a cat as he stroked her breasts and stomach with his fingertips, making her desperate with unfulfilled need.

Briefly, he paused to remove his mask. He was still as if waiting for the inevitable scream to follow. Yet she was oblivious to all flaws, pleading for him to make love to her in a frantic whisper.

Once more, he lowered his head between her thighs, worshipping that forbidden place with his mouth. This time she could not even bring herself to feel shame. Writhing and gasping uncontrollably, the explosion of pleasure and release that he created inside overwhelmed her.

Before she had even recovered from her violent spending, Erik rose above her, rubbing his manhood insistently against her thighs. Running her hands along his back, she encouraged him to continue, knowing that there was no turning back for either of them. As he proceeded to press against her, she moaned a bit at the painful loss of her maidenhead. She could not stop the hot tears from streaming down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, licking softly at her tears.

For a while, they remained silent, joined together as one. Erik still continued to kiss and pet her, stroking at her breasts and thighs. Gradually, the pain began to ease. When he moved his hips against her, she began to feel strange feelings of pleasure deep inside.

With a surprised gasp, she involuntarily pushed her hips against him, wanting more.

“Better?”

“Oh, Erik...” she moaned, pulling him closer. “Oh, please...”

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she clung to him as he continued, riding the strange and wild uncoiling waves of indescribable pleasure. Holding on to him tightly, she sobbed as she bit into his shoulder, trembling with the mounting sexual tension in her body which she had yet to grow accustomed to. As she heard Erik’s own cries of passion, her body catapulted into an uncontrollable and fierce release. Nothing in her life had ever felt so good. She knew Erik must have felt the same way as he spent with a loud roar, burying himself deeply within the cavern of her body.

Pulling her close into the shelter of his arms, Erik stroked her heated skin softly, crooning words of love. Feeling deliciously cozy, she slid her arms about his waist, nestled against his warm body. She just barely heard Erik’s last words before she succumbed to slumber.

“If a lightning bolt should strike me down at this moment, I would go to my grave a happy man.”
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Do I Dream Again?