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Rossignol	By : Savaial Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 5240 -:- 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
- 1-Rossignol
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 6-Ch 6
- 7-7
- 8-Ch 8
- 9-Ch 9
- 10-Ch 10
- 11-Ch 11
- 12-Ch 12
- 13-Ch 13
- 14-Ch 14
- 15-Ch 15
- 16-Ch 16
- 17-Ch 17
- 18-Ch 18
- 19-Ch 19
- 20-Ch 20
- 21-Ch 21
- 22-Ch 22
- 23-Ch 23
- 24-Ch 24
- 25-Ch 25
- 26-Ch 26
- 27-Ch 27
- 28-Ch 28
- 29-Ch 29
- 30-30- Epilogue
- 26
- 27
- 28
Erik stared at me. I watched the muscle bulge under his coat as he reached out to take my offered hand. The reflection of fire in his golden eyes served to make his gaze hot.

Or was it the fire?

“Celeste,” he growled.

I shivered as his cool fingers wrapped around mine. He flexed and I was in his arms.

“How can I think of eating?” Erik bent his head to me. The mask touched my neck. He stilled, but his breathing came hard and fast. “You drive away all thoughts of food, my dear.”

“Do I?” I smiled into the intermittent darkness. The flickering flames cast shadows of our bodies against the far wall. We were entwined, almost one shape. I brought a hand down to the small of his back and felt the tightly controlled power of his lean torso.

“You know how you influence me,” he answered. “I want to touch you.”

“Then touch me,” I whispered. “By all means, Erik, touch me wherever you desire.”

He bore me down to the blanket, long arms wrapped around me. “You perfect, beautiful woman,” he sighed into my ear. “If only I could take what other men have demanded.”

“You cannot take what is freely given,” I replied, feeling myself grow wet under the weight of his body and the meaning of his words. “I’m not leaving you, Erik, so you might as well have what you want. I am free to decide and I choose you.”

My declaration made him shudder all over. Still, he made no move to take me as I wished he would take me. His slender frame tense with longing, he nonetheless remained motionless overtop me. I loosened his mask. “Touch me with your lips,” I crooned. “Touch me all over.”

In the span of five heartbeats I waited. Then, Erik groaned. The sound of him flooded me between my legs. His sound of desire, of yearning, burst in my brain and left me with nothing but raw need. I squirmed underneath him, snaked my hands up under his shirt and grasped the material. A quick jerk ruined the pearl snaps. My greedy hands coasted over his marble white, marble smooth flesh.

He gasped.

Emboldened, I gripped his shoulders and drew him down to me. Our lips touched. I felt the contact in my womb, in my blood, in my breasts as our tongues met. Erik pulled away to stare down into my face, hunger lighting his eyes from within. “If you don’t mind yourself,” he whispered, “I’ll enter you on this floor.”

“You promise?” I thrust my hips up against his pelvis, delighted when he arched, hissing. “I’ve never wanted anything like I want you,” I confessed. “If you don’t pin me to this blanket I’ll never forgive you.”

I heard my dress rip, felt the cool air on my naked body. The wool and linen of Erik’s suit rasped against my thighs and belly, the sharp contrast soothing and stimulating all in one. His lips, no longer cold but hot, clamped to my throat. I felt the sting of his teeth and gasped at the pleasure. His hands pinioned my wrists to the blanket.

Erik’s mouth tailed fire down my breastbone. Warm, wet suction brought my nipple to a diamond peak. I felt the pull in my clit. My legs spread open wide in response to this age old stimulus. I wanted him deep inside me, claiming me, filling me…

“Please, Erik, Please,” I begged him without shame. “Cover me, take me!”

“God,” he swore harshly. “How can you want me?” His words tumbled out against my skin. “I’m no good for you Celeste, no good at all.” Contrary to his message, his hands tore at the laces on my corset, ripped my lacy panties off in one authoritative sweep. “You deserve better than me, better than a coupling on the ground in front of your burning husband.”

“Erik,” I panted, “just this once, do you think you could take what you want from a woman and not beat yourself to death in the process?” I yanked off his ruined shirt. His cufflinks sailed to parts unknown, one skittering across stone and another dropping into black water. “Just this once could you take my word for it that I want you?”

“Once, maybe,” he said darkly, but I heard the humor in his strained voice. His fingers tangled in my hair even as I tore open his trousers.

“You’ve made me a widow and I thank you,” I growled, “now make me yours.”

He plunged into me without another word of protest. Ah, God, he was heaven between my legs, stretching me to my limit. I’d been taken by many men less well endowed with much more pain. This felt right. This felt incredible. “Here,” I groaned, taking his hand and guiding him to the little button of flesh at my apex. “This is where you need to touch me.” I didn’t know if Erik was a virgin or not, but surely he would want to pleasure me in any case.

“You feel amazing,” Erik sighed, flicking his fingers over me. Slowly, he pulled out and entered again. His size and power made me want to spread myself as far as I could. “You feel better than anything I ever imagined.”

I should have expected a musician could keep perfect time. He stroked my swollen clitoris in absolute rhythm with his hard thrusts. Relentless, demanding, his cadence drove me toward a hitherto unknown bliss. My vision tunneled upon his face. He was beautiful, twisted in concentration and awestruck pleasure. My Erik. Fucking me across a blanket so hard and fast I knew I would have burns on my bottom. I loved him.

“Harder, Erik, harder,” I demanded. He grunted and complied. His force brought my orgasm.

Erik gasped as I clenched around him, pulled him farther into my birth canal. Like an animal he took my bottom in both hands and lifted me, impaling me like a sacrifice as my legs opened to their limit. “Oh yes, Celeste, yes,” he moaned. His hips snapped forward, finally losing their tireless tempo as he spilled inside of me.

Breathless and limp, we collapsed together upon the blanket. For several stunned moments we both concentrated only on breathing. I felt I was glowing. Erik gathered me into his arms, buried his naked face into my shoulder and released a shuddering sigh. I let him relax, smiled into his hair while stroking his shoulder. “Oh Erik,” I whispered. “You bring me so much pleasure.”

Wetness dropped onto my skin.

He was crying.

My heart felt like it would break in half. My mind raced to say something, anything to both acknowledge his pain and yet assure him I didn’t find his tears weak. Of course he would cry. If I hadn’t already cried out all my tears weeks ago I would be crying too. But Erik had healed me, burst the bubble of pain in my soul and released me from years of agony. Now, it was my turn.

“Erik, warm as you are, you aren’t nearly as warm when you aren’t covering me,” I said teasingly. “And I’m afraid our campfire has burned out.”

Erik stiffened in disbelief over my joke. Seconds later I felt the smallest huff of air escape him. Then, he chuckled. “My apologies, Mademoiselle deChagney,” he said.

De Chagney. I was a de Chagney again.

Erik arranged his rumpled pants and rolled off of me. He’d never managed to get them all the way down. “I will build a fire up when we get home. I’m sure it will smell better than the one we had.” He helped me to my feet. I felt a thrill of happiness as he casually, with no speed, replaced his mask.

With a smile I collected his cloak and draped it over my nakedness. Erik’s eyes followed my every movement.

“And, if the lovely mademoiselle is agreeable,” he went on, “I happen to have a very comfortable bed for her to rest upon. This business of blankets and six minute intercourse must be very tiresome for a lady.”

“Six minutes or sixty, any time spent with my angel is time well used,” I said.

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

We walked the serpent wire together, Erik leading the way. I felt a swell of pride that he had so much confidence in me. He didn’t know I found it hard to keep my balance while his seed leaked out of me. The sheer amount of it amazed me. I had to fight to keep from chuckling over it.

He dropped to the ground before his door and held out his arms for me. I remembered another time, not so long ago, and stared down at him for a glorious moment. His eyes scraped my half concealed body. Indistinct light from a faraway lantern illuminated the shining trails on my legs. His eyes flared with understanding and male appreciation.

I supposed he was due that vanity.

I sat on the wire and parted my legs, giving him the best view possible. His hand came up to clutch at his chest. “This is not the way to induce civilized behavior in me,” he advised lightly, but I heard the warning rumble of lust in his tone. Abruptly, his hands shot out and grabbed my ankles. He tugged me down into his arms with startling ease, wrapping me in his hot embrace.

Gripping him with my legs, I ground down into his renewed erection. “I like your behavior, civilized or not,” I informed him, reaching up to kiss his throat. “Besides, being civilized is for Englishmen, not the French.”

Erik carried me into his home. Ridding me of the cloak, he bore me directly into his bedroom and then his bathroom. He spared a hand to turn the taps on the tub, sitting on the edge with me in his lap. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “What did I ever do to deserve the privilege of even looking upon you?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You simply cared enough, had enough kindness to see me,” I answered. “I could never, ever take such a thing for granted. You won my heart my first hour here, Erik, when you didn’t assume my muteness meant I was stupid.” As I spoke I relieved him of his mask. He didn’t fight me at all. “And you strengthened my warmth for you every day I was here, in countless ways. You gave me the key to my own voice, freed all the monsters lurking in my mind, and gave me my first glimmer of hope in a decade. How could I not want you?”
- 26
- 27
- 28
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Rossignol