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Replaying Past	By : RubyNatulieLee Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 7373 -:- 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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Disclaimer2: 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. ]

side note: I have just read my reviews and all I have to say is.....-cries- I’m so happy I would hug you all, even the ones that bad mouth me. YOU HEARD ME! I would hug you too, just b/c you took the nerve to read my story.... I love you all.

~~~~~~~~~{@

“Welcome, how may I be o- Well if it isn’t my favorite victim.”

The door chimmed closed. Esme wasn’t given much time to remove her bonnet before her body was wrapped in a friendly hug that lifted her from the very ground and spun her around above the floor. She squealed from the sudden attack, but laughed, pulling away from those strong arms when her feet touched the floor once more, “Stop teasing Nikki. ”

Nicolas only smiled boyishly, his brown curls in a disarray as though his fingers had rushed through them countless times. He was dressed in his normal attire of a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tucked loosely into the black suit pants that hugged tightly to his thighs to show off the muscle he hid behind his boyish humor. Taking Esme’s arm, he lead her further inside, “I’m so glad you came. I’ve just finished my biggest master piece yet. I fear I shall be beating women off with a stick when I place it on display.” Removing her bonnet fully, she placed it on top of the closest glass case, letting her eyes trail along each mass of hair inside. “What have you done to excite you so?” She asked, but she was answered when she turned.

Nicolas stood in the doorway that lead to the backroom where her hair was once cut. Within his hands was settled a new wig, but of her hair. Red curls soft and gentle, twisted and tucked into an old fashion she knew. It was just the like hair styles her sisters wore when they danced. Gold clips of beads and stones lingered upon the curls, giving it an aluring look. It was truly beautiful, and it was truly her hair...

“My goodness...”

Nicolas only grinned proudly, holding the hair tenderly, “I know, hm? I remember seeing this hair style once before, on those gypsy lasses, I believe it was a couple of months ago. They came into town and gave such a show! I remember one of them had this strange hair style. I dare say it took several sleepless nights and one hell of a whiskey cabinet to keep me going.”

As he carefully placed the wig down gently upon a holder Esme could only look at it in shock before whispering, “You truly have a gift Nicolas..”
She heard him brush at his shirt, scoffing a little at her comment, “Oh please...do go on.” But when she turned back to her friend he made his way forward to what seem to be a crate filled with... hair? Bending over, he picked out a bundle of a long thick braid of blond coloedr hair, “Well, are you going to tell me what brings you here?”
She blinked for a moment, then gasped, “Oh, yes! Um. You see.... I need your help.”
He rose a brow, causing her to pick at her cloak, “With what, may I ask, do you need my help?” He was leaning over the glass counter, her words catching his full attention. She blushed deeply, making her trembled as she struggled to find the right words.

“Help me find a slave keeper's costume.”

The look on Nicolas made Esme's whole face want to bleed red. She waved her hands a little squealing, “N-No Listen, I was invited to a ball a-and I need to get a costume for Erik, and I thought he would be perfect as a slave keeper but I don’t know where to go and I really don’t want to go out on my own. You see, it’s a surprise, and I don’t want Erik knowing. Oh, Nicolas, please say you’ll help me! I’ll give you another length of my hair once it grows back, I promise.”

Nicolas face went blank as if shocked by her request, or by the idea of having another bundle of red hair. Slapping the glass case a little, he sighed, “My dear, we really need to teach you to hold that tongue of yours.” She frowned, touching her fingers to her lips, making Nicolas laugh, “Well my lady, since you asked so prettily, and made me an offer I simply can not refuse, I shall help you. Let me get my coat, I know a place that might have what you need.”

She gave him a tender smile, before rushing over to wrapp her arms around his neck. “Oh, thank you Nikki!” she whispered. He just hugged her back softly, his arms about her waist, “You're welcome. Now come along and grow your hair out as quickly as possible.” His hand reached up, stoking her short red locks, as she squealed out with laughter.

“It's so soft that I slept with your hair next to my pillow. So wonderful. Hurry now, or I might just have to hunt you down and just sleep along side you.”

~~~~~~~~~{@

The wet rocks were slippery under Esme’s steps, but slowly she had made her way into her home... Yes. Her home. The Phantom's lair. Brushing the cape that hung before the shattered full length mirror she came into the candle light. In her hands she held a bundle of brown paper wrapped with a length of twine to keep it secure. Nicolas and herself had gone through half the day searching for the perfect outfit for Erik. She'd never had so much fun with a man. Nicolas was so outrageous and calm. How he shrugged off the looks he was given. But the perfect outfit, after five stores, she hugged to her tightly. The moment she had seen it, she'd to grasp it. It was perfect for her Phantom. She only prayed he would be willing to wear it.

The lair was quiet, which was unusual. Since taking Crystal and Edward in they had been running around like cats and dogs. Crystal demanding play times and Edward following close behind Erik in his lessons. The boy may not of liked the idea of playing music, but he had a nack for fencing. Erik was proud. Eeven if he tried not to show it, Esme saw it in his eyes.
She could only wonder where or what the children had done to Erik. She giggled a little at the thoughts, but as she placed the packaged down, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Thick strong arms, pulling her into a full blast of heat, that made her back stiffen and a gasp to be ripped from her throat. Erik held onto her, his face buried against her neck. Her head tilted to the side, letting his lips brush along her exposed skin. But as her lips parted to speak, his wet tongue bathed her pulsing vine upon her throat, making her body trembled against his own, robbing her of her voice for that moment, before she was able to gasp out a simple word, makiung her phantom chuckle.

“Erik...”

His large hands rose up, seeking inside of her cloak for the treasures he needed. Grasping her breasts threw her blouse, he squeezed the softness, feeling her body jerk, feeling the nipples tighten through the fabric. “We have some unfinished business,” he declared with a growl, before his body moved against her own.

Like wild animals they tore at each other's clothing. Their mouths feasting upon each other like water to a dying man. Erik could not get enough of Esme’s sweet mouth, or the spicy kisses that were wrapped within. His fingers wanted nothing more than to touch her flesh and soon enough he did, grasping her breasts and tracing her spine to her small hips. Her dress fell in a puddle behind them. He pushed against the wall making her yelp out from the feel of rough rocks on her tender flesh, but she didn't care. It had been so long, and with the children it would be longer. Her arms wrapped around his neck when his arms lifted her body up, her legs locking upon his hips as his right hand reached between their bodies, removing his thick muscle from its cage.

With one upward thrust he was buried within the heated wetness that made him groan , hearing his gypsy voice cry out from his size, feeling him buck a little before starting his movements. It was slow and tender at first, as if Erik was savoring the feel of having her around him, clinging to him, whimpering and begging for more. But it didn’t last long. Eriks mind was flooded with the sweet hot wet muscles that hugged him as he pumped. Time was of the essence though, soon the children would be back. Placing one of his hands upon her hip, the other upon the wall to keep him upon his feet, his thrusts became deeper, harder, faster. Trying to touch her very soul, to bind her to him, deeper he went, touching her in places that begged, that weeped. He was going too fast, going too hard she feared she would not be able to hold on. She was right. It felt like it had just started when her climax shattered, leaving her to cling to him tightly, her nails sinking into his shirt, her muscles hugging his very muscle, still pounding into her, taking out his own pleasure. It burned, it soared, but she didn’t care. She held onto him, panting, moaning, whimpering out pleas, before Erik's head was thrown back and his voice cried out her name. Her womb filled with a burst of heat, making her stiffen, and tremble upon his member, wrapped in his strong arms.

~~~~~~~~~{@

Within the rippling sheets Esme rested on top of Erik, her cheek pillowed within her arms as they laid crossed over his bare chest, rising and falling with every breath he took. His fingers stroked along her golden red locks, feeling the soft warmth they held, and smiling to see her so close to him. He demanded a lot from her small body, but he needed her. Needed to hold her, to keep her close. To kiss her, to taste her. To feel her around him, to feel her muscles. He wanted it all. Tilting his head, he spotted the brown package. His brows rose, “What did you get?” he whispered, watching his dancer stir from her dreams. Her glowing green eyes were dim in the candle light, and misted from her nearly sleeping state, but stretching like a lazy cat, she let out a little yawn, laying her cheek back upon his chest.

“Mmm... It's your costume,” she muttered sleepily, feeling his finger stroke her spine, making her want to arch a little more into his touch. She felt so warm and safe within his hold, feeling him all around her, in her. It was almost like heaven. She felt his lips touch the top of her head, making her smile sleepily.

“And what am I to be?”

Reaching out slowly, Esme touched Erik’s jaw softly, tracing the rough surface to his lips as she whispered out softly, causing him to harden a little under her small form.

“My master...”
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- 37
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Replaying Past