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The Silent Wish	By : LaurieBaker Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > Het Views: 14629 -:- 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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Story Code: SOLO – What can I say? Breaking up is hard to do…

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Erik, the Phantom of the Opera, was as drunk as a skunk.

After taking Aurora back to her father’s mansion in stony silence, he immediately set back for Paris and purchased several bottles of wine. He had already consumed one bottle’s worth already. But he did not feel the painful memories of the night fade. He only succeeded in giving himself a headache and felt slightly sick to his stomach.

Unable to sleep, he spent the lonely night consumed with self-loathing. When would he learn that life was not a melodramatic opera? When would he get it through his thick skull hat he simply had to learn to control his anger and stop single-handedly destroying everything good that ever came his way?

If he had not been such a self-absorbed fool, he should have known that Aurora had good reasons for not seeing him. She was right in the fact that she was not good at lying. She would not have been an accomplished enough liar to deceive him regarding his face. The few times they had been together, he could read her like a book. Even when they made love, her blushes and moans were blatantly telling in what pleased her. It was such responsive truth in her body that made so erotically exciting as his slave. But he must not think of those passionate nights any longer…lest he descend even further into madness.

Erik supposed that now that he had been thoroughly broken in with the pleasures of the flesh, he could just go the bowels of Paris and find a prostitute to satisfy him. But he did not want to pay for some professional who would moan unconvincingly while routinely working at his body in boredom. He wanted the real thing. He wanted Aurora. He wanted that sweet girl who would squirm and writhe and be just as excited as he was. And now he had lost her seemingly forever.

While he seemed to live in a constant state of depression since birth, there had been only one other night that he had felt quite this low. The night of “Don Juan Triumphant”. He had been a blasted idiot that night too, trying to take what he could not have by force, wreaking destruction on whoever got in his way.

There was always another damned man involved. With Christine, it was the Vicomte. And now with Aurora, it was this cursed Baron von What’s-His-Name!

Baron von Rothsberg, that was it!

If the Baron had not come along, all eager to claim Aurora as his wife, then she could be lying in this bed with him right now, all cozy and warm as a kitten in his arms, purring with the pleasure that he had learned to give her.

Then inspiration struck.

There was something Erik could do to try to make amends with Aurora. And it was perhaps one of the few things in the world that he was truly good at.

Retrieving his Punjab Lasso, he pulled at the noose lovingly.

He would rid her of her horrid Baron once and for all so that she could be free. It would be his parting gift to her.

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The following evening, Basil Von Rothsberg mused about his situation in disgust as he rode to his townhouse located near the Notre Dame Cathedral. Surely, there had to be a better way to improve his prospects than to endure one more night in the company of Luciano Sorelli’s daughter.

Tonight, Aurora Sorelli had been more horrid than ever before with her eyes blazing at him with cold blue disdain. Try as he might to make decent conversation with her, she only answered him in short terse phrases, making no attempt whatsoever to be civil. When he took her arm, she moved away from him as if she had been scalded. Who did that little bitch think that she was to treat him in such a fashion?

Oh, the young blonde was comely enough to be sure. But she was simply insufferable. He had yet to ever meet such a spoiled rotten little brat. And in his level of society, he had met quite a few of them. But perversely, her attitude raised his incentive to make her his wife. He would be quite pleased to curb her willfulness and bring her to heel. A few sharp lashings upon those ivory breasts and buttocks with a flogger would improve her attitude considerably. He even felt himself grow hard at the prospect of seeing her naked on her hands and knees, crying in pain, her flesh an angry red color from his whip. He would make her crawl before him like the bitch that she was.

Perhaps he should not go home, he pondered as he became increasingly more aroused. Perhaps he should procure a street walker for the evening. Someone blonde and petite like his soon-to-be fiancé. And he should pummel her body in every way imaginable with his cock until he was sated. Yet he found the thought unsatisfying. Such women were quite oblivious to that sort of treatment. They must go through similar physical abuse several times a day. But a young virgin like Aurora would truly feel his wrath in all of its intensity. Yes, he would hold out for the real thing.

The trick was in getting her to agree to be his bride. She seemed to be filled with nothing but contempt for him. And he was sure he did not understand. Was he not wealthy enough? And while he was not the handsomest of men, he cut a rather striking figure. He never had any complaints from his mistresses at any rate. But he was beginning to tire of constantly trying to cater to her whims. How much time and money had he spent over the last two weeks in an effort to win her over? And she would have none of him. As cold as an iceberg, that chit was.

But the iceberg’s family was loaded with money. And he needed the funds badly. He was in debt up to his neck. His years of gambling and whoring and drink had finally depleted his inheritance. So now he was selling himself as a husband to the highest bidder. And so far that bidder seemed to be Luciano Sorelli, despite whatever objections his daughter might have.

As he exited from his coach, he thought he saw a shadow along the walkway to his home. Who would be stalking about the streets at this time of night? For a moment, he hesitated but then excused it all as irritated nerves and kept on with his gait.

There! A sound like the brushing of a branch limb from that back corner!

“Who are you?” the Baron called out. “What in blazes do you want? Go away before I call the police!”

Quick as a whip, the lasso clenched about the Baron’s neck. He clutched at the hard rope, straining for breath. He felt his body being dragged down to a stinking alleyway.

A large strong man had him in his grasp. At least, he thought it was a man. All he could see was the moonlight striking upon a hard ivory white mask.

“You never take what belongs to the Phantom and live to tell about it!” the apparition hissed before squeezing at his throat in an iron clad grip.

Before the Baron could even ask just what the deranged man meant, he felt his vision fade into small dots and then go black as the dizziness and pain overwhelmed him into oblivion.

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Aurora knew it was a sin but she could not help herself any longer. Slowly, she slipped her hands over her breasts, rubbing her nipples through the silk of her nightgown with her fingertips.

She had had the most erotic dream about Erik. Even in her grief, her body still burned for him. And try as she could to blight him from her mind, he still haunted her in her dreams.

Closing her eyes, she thought of how things were before…how they were two weeks ago. She tried to imagine his voice singing to her in that seductive calming way as she squeezed her nipples with her fingers. Rolling onto her stomach, she recalled how he had taken her in such a fashion on his piano bench with her wrists bound behind her back. And she had never felt so drunk with lust as she had that night. Spreading her thighs wide, she reached for that spot between her legs, rubbing it in gentle circles until her womanhood clenched in spasms.

Even though her body relaxed in fulfillment, she still felt like crying. It just was not enough. She needed Erik so badly. Not just his body but him. She missed him. His sweetness and his singing. His tender lovemaking and his violent fits of passion. Yes, she even missed his horrid temper. Was this what heartache felt like?

A knock on the door made her startle with guilt. Rubbing her wet fingers against her bed sheets, she hoped that no one would be able to smell her arousal and guess at what shameful activity she had just partaken in.

Nanette, her buxom red-headed maid, came in the room with a breakfast tray and a newspaper.

“Oh, pardon, Miss...I heard some stirring in here and thought you were awake.”

“It’s quite all right, Nanette,” Aurora replied softly, sincerely hoping that she was not blushing.

“But you will want to hear the news at any rate.”

“What news?”

“Apparently, your Baron has reached a bad turn.”

“He is not my Baron, Nanette,” Aurora scolded. “Please do not ever refer to him in such a manner again. What turn are you talking about?”

“Strangled he was in the middle of the night!” Nanette related, trying to hide the excitement in her voice.

“What?!”

“It’s in all the papers today!” Nanette squealed loudly. “They say that the marks on the Baron’s neck are just like those on the victims of that Phantom of the Opera fellow! Imagine that beast still being alive down there under the Opera House!”

Without any concern for propriety, Aurora snatched the newspaper from her maid, feverishly scanning over the article. At least the Baron was still alive! Apparently, he was taken to the hospital, his life still hanging in the balance from asphyxiation.

“Oh, and these came for you today. The Baron must have been ordered them yesterday before he was attacked.”

Aurora studied the bouquet of roses that Nanette handed her, her throat clenching up in anxiety. There were not from the Baron. He always sent carnations. These were roses of a deep red the color of blood.

“I feel one of my headaches coming on, Nanette. Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?”

“Not at all, Miss,” Nanette huffed.

When she was sure that she was quite alone, Aurora pulled out the small card that had been buried deep within the stems of the roses.

“Please accept my parting gift. Nothing is more precious than freedom. I shall never forget you. E.”

Tears stung at her eyes.

Why did Erik have to be such a damned idiot blackguard?!
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The Silent Wish