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An Old Fashioned Dream	By : LillyFair Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 3177 -:- 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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Erik quickly carried her limp body up the stairs and kicked open the door with his foot; he couldn’t loose her, he just couldn’t. Her body was very cold but he could not tell if it was because her life was fading, or if it was because she was outside in the snow for an unknown amount of time.

Laying her on the floor near the fireplace, he realized how cold his home actually was; he had to change that, he had to get her warm. With a force, which had to come from the depths of hell, he threw wood from the wood basket into the fireplace and set it ablaze. Then he ran outside to the well, filled a bucket of water and set it to boil above the flames in her room.

He reverently knelt down next to her body to examine her wounds. Her gown was covered with her blood; he looked at his own shirt and noticed it had a bloodstained impression from where her head had once been when he carried her up the stairs. He had to clean her wounds and which would require the removal of her gown.

“To hell with modesty my dear.” He didn’t have the time to fumble with the laces, nor the endless yards of fabric of her lavish gown. He simply took a knife from his boot and cut the gown completely in half, then he removed the saturated material from her limp body.

Under normal circumstances he would have loved to gaze at her graceful form, but there was no time; he had to start cleaning her wounds before an infection would set in. He tore his shirt and used the boiling water to start to clean her wounds. Hopefully she would stay unconscious during this process because the pain would defiantly be intolerable.

As he began to remove the glass it appeared to him as if she was thrown into something like a mirror, or window but what confused him was the pieces of crystal from the vase that held her rose. He wished he had stayed around the opera house to know what happened. He cursed the Vicomte for not being there when she needed him. He would have never let this happen to her had she chosen him.

Anger, rage, betrayal, and loneliness coursed through his veins as he removed yet another piece of glass. How could she leave him as she did? He was left to die alone in the depths of that God forsaken Opera House and for what, for her to end up near death almost at his door. Damn that wretched boy, he took her away from him and then he can’t even protect her from whoever did this to her. As much as he was angry with her, and as much as he wanted her to feel what he had felt these past few months, he looked upon her unconscious body and knew now was not the time for such emotions. She needed him right now, he had told her that he would always be there for her and he meant it with all his heart.

Hours had gone by and he was finally able to remove every piece of glass from her body. Some of the cuts bled some more, but others were beginning to heal. She didn’t look like she would have any major scaring, but she might have a nasty headache for a week or so; her head had taken much of the force.

He began to clean her body of the caked blood, dirt, and sweat. His eyes ravished her body; he could not help becoming slightly aroused by the feel her soft gentle skin under his fingers. As much as he may have wanted to, he would not take advantage of her in her current situation. She would come to him, and welcome his touch; that was the way he had always wanted it.

He looked at the sorrowful state of her condition and began to wash her beautiful blonde hair for it was tinted with blood. He had always longed to touch her curls and spread them through his fingers; he had imagined them being soft as silk, not rough as they were now. He washed and brushed her hair making her appear even lovelier than he had remembered her.

Her body still felt cold despite the heat from the fire and the warmth of the blankets he had put on her . He pulled her close and used the blanket as a cape to surround them both in an attempt to use his body heat to warm her. He gasped slightly when he felt her silky cool breasts collide with his warm body. He put his lips to her ear and whispered her name while running his hands down her back and legs to give her some warmth ; finally he felt heat return to her lifeless body.

As much as he would love to keep her naked form next to his, he knew that she had to get her clothed and put in bed to rest. He covered her with the blanket and opened her trunk of forgotten clothes and costumes to pull out one of her old favorite nightgowns. He laid it out on the bed and sighed as he went to retrieve his sleeping angel from the floor.

As he lifted her up to carry her to the bed Christine once again stirred in his arms, she felt a warm body next to hers that was soft and warm. She tried to move on her own but she realized that her entire body was in pain. She opened her eyes, but she could not see anything very clearly, she knew that the person who held her was not Raoul he was far to strong and muscular to be Raoul but as soon as a certain musty sent invaded her senses she knew that she could be in the arms of only one person. Only one person had that scent that drove her near the edge.

“Erik!” .

He was startled by her soft whisper but sat her down on the bed and gently pressed her body to his while he spoke to her.

“Christine I’m not going to hurt you.”

His words even while speaking were music to her. Since she had first hear him singing that Romany song all those months ago, which strangely seemed like decades ago, she had been lost to him. His voice had power over her she could no longer deny it. He was speaking to her as if she was a patient; there was no warmth nor coldness in her voice, just facts.

“You were badly hurt and need to rest, but I had to get you out of your dress, you were having trouble breathing, you were cold, and the dressed was drenched with your blood. I have some of your old clothes from your trunk here. I’m going to put this night gown on you.”

Suddenly all the events from the past few days hit her afresh but she didn’t cry, or weep or whimper she simply stared forward and thought of his voice, her Erik. First he handed her a drink mixed with some opium, not nearly as much as he was used to taking, but enough to put her to sleep and take away some of her pain.

As soon as she gave the glass back to him she felt dizzy, she wanted to talk to him, to see him, but the need to sleep overpowered her. In her daze she lost all care and concern for modesty and reserve; she leaned into him making sure to press her body seductively into his chest and claim his lips. She wanted him to feel every amount of pleasure that she had denied him all these months.

Erik, who was trying patiently to get her dressed, was shocked to feel her soft lips against his, not because of her forwardness but because he had not realized how strong of a need he had for her until that moment.

It started out as a tender kiss but quickly turned into a passionate one. He opened her lips with his tongue, and met her with a passion that he never before had felt. He mentally did a count of how much opium he actually had given her until he felt her fingers gently glide down his back and around to unbutton the front of his pants. At that point all thoughts had left him.

When she took hold of his flesh with her long fingers and stroked the length of him and the tip with her fingernails, he almost lost all control. He groaned in satisfaction as he trailed kisses down her throat being mindful of her bandaged wounds. He encased her hardened nipple with his lips and gently teased it even further with his tongue, which caused her fingers to flinch and continue their intense action. She felt like wine to him, he wanted to take her, to show her excatly on how much she missed out on, how much her distance had hurt him but not tonight, not like this, he gently pushed her away and enclosed her skillful fingers with his.

“Christine, you need your rest. Let me put you to bed and we can talk when you wake.” Between whatever he gave her to drink, and the lingering feeling of his lips at her breast she didn’t want to rest; she wanted him, all of him. She threw herself into his arms and let his gentle hands run through her hair.

“Stay with me, just like this, just for tonight. I want to feel your warm body next to mine.” She finished removing his pants, and then fell to the floor with a gentle hum.

“Please…I need you here, just to hold me.” Erik looked at her with a joyful expression, and also a sorrowful one because he knew that she belonged to another. His anger and loneliness once again returned but one fact was certain, the daring young Vicomte was not here, and his blushing bride had shown him more than friendly affection.

Tonight he would indulge himself in her soft body; he deserved at least that much. Tomorrow he would deal with everything. Tomorrow she would have to explain, tomorrow he would not swayed by soft lips, and a seductive caress, he would address her and their past tomorrow but tonight, fortunately tonight was just for him.

“As you wish my dear.” He brought her lips to his in a soul-crushing kiss. His fingers slowly took hold of her breasts and began to tease the nipples with his thumbs causing her to release a low moan of pleasure. He kissed each breast as he settled her into the soft sheets and warm blankets, he was about to change his mind and leave her rest when her arms came around him and pulled him into the bed with her. He positioned himself that she was able to lie safely in his arms; as soon as she was under the comfort of the sheets and blankets sleep took her almost immediately. He just held her for a few moments and looked at her beautiful form. With his free arm he stroked the length of her arm all the way to her fingers when he noticed that she wore a ring, specifically his ring.

“Tomorrow my love tomorrow will change everything.” He looked at her with longing but before sleep could take him he felt her turn and straddle his leg causing them to be thigh to thigh.

“This angel taunts me even in my sleep.” He placed a kiss on her forehead before exhaustion finally took him.

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Sorry it took so long. Thank you for the great reviews I hope you are enjoying it.
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An Old Fashioned Dream