Don Juan Triumphs | By : spikesbint Category: M through R > The Phantom of the Opera > AU/AR Views: 8088 -:- 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. |
Disclaimer: The story and its entire text belongs to me, the characters belong to Gaston Leroux, which I have borrowed for a while. This fiction is for entertainment purposes only, and no monies are being made from its creation
Dedicated as a Birthday present to my friend Kim. Happy Birthday!
Don Juan Triumphs
Christine sighed. This plan of Raoul’s weighed heavily on her soul. Erik had been her angel so long; she was not sure, when that admiration that she held for him had turned to fear. Nevertheless, it had all seemed to originate from the night he had murdered Bouquet. Even though she knew he had killed she could not bring herself to hate him for it.
When she had wept in the chapel earlier that evening and had trembled with fear, she had also feared for Erik. What they would do to him if they captured him? She had happily let Raoul believe that her tears had solely been for her and the show she would have to endure tonight.
Erik watched her through the mirror as she readied herself for the performance of his opera. Christine was dressed only in her petticoats and shift. Her movements were unconscious and graceful as she pinned her hair back with a red rose. She turned to reach for her costume and his fists clenched in frustrated anger as he watched her, so beautiful and yet so treacherous.
Little did she know he had already locked her in the dressing room. Erik patted the key in his pocket, a smirk of satisfaction on his face. Just watching her aroused him to a frenzy of need. He felt no remorse for his act of voyeurism. She and her lover thought they were so clever, hoping to lure him out into the open. He had watched the police arrive earlier as he had perched on Apollo’s lyre, laughing at them. Well, he was a step ahead of the lot of them.
He had to make his move before it was too late, he would not spare her this time. She was unprepared for when he suddenly slid the mirror back and grabbed her, covering her mouth before she could even think to scream. He turned her around in his arms to face him. He was in no mood for games. She had played him enough with unfulfilled promises. Erik grabbed the edges of her petticoat to push up her skirts, exposing the creamy white skin of her thighs, careful not to touch her bare skin in the process.
He regarded her from behind the black half mask, which was a copy of the one Piangi had worn in rehearsal earlier. Somehow the changed appearance and close fitting garments, revealed more of him than anything else she had seen him in previously. There was an aura of danger about him that aroused her. He wore no jacket, and a white shirt cut low on the chest, to reveal dark hairs. Christine’s fingers itched to touch him and feel if they were as soft as they looked. She knew she should be trying to find some means of escape, but he held her so tightly. His hand still covered her mouth, but she did not struggle.
“I am going to take you tonight Christine. I know you want me too. I can smell your arousal even now. Do not try to deny it,” The words poured from his lips like heated silk. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. He removed the hand from her mouth and looked at her, daring her to challenge his authority.
“I’ll scream. This place is full of armed police,”
“No you won’t,” he replied.
No, she would not. Christine shrank back, half in fear, half in realisation at the truth of his words. The wetness between her legs increased at his predatory gaze as it passed over her. He had not even touched her in any intimate way, except for his initial assault. He soon remedied that by placing a hand on the top of her thigh. She closed her eyes involuntarily, before opening them again, silently begging as she looked at him. Not even sure what she wanted exactly, except that she wanted his hands on her body. She was supposed to be getting ready for the performance tonight, came the almost hysterical thought.
She remembered the time he had brought her to his lair after the gala and how his hands had felt on her body then. Christine drew in a breath as his warm, slightly roughened hand slid higher. She could feel his fingers as they grazed the outer folds of her sex.
“No undergarments Christine? Could it be you were hoping for such an encounter…dreamed of one even?”
Her hips bucked forward as his finger slid inside and touched the sensitive nub, circling it with a finger and coating it with her juices. A red stain flushed her cheeks as she pressed against his finger.
“Erik…I must not…Raoul…I love Raoul,”
He laughed a cruel mirthless laugh. “ Keep telling yourself that if you wish, but you are already so wet. Your body knows what it wants even if you will not admit it,”
He dropped to his knees and onto the carpet, looking up at her from between her thighs.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Something that I am sure that boy with water running through his veins would never dream of,” he replied lowering his head.
Christine gripped the edges of the dressing table as his tongue probed where his finger had been only moments before. His hands rounded on her buttocks to bring her closer to his mouth and his tongue. Erik wanted to touch and taste every part of her, the impassioned cry as his tongue slid inside her only spurred him on.
She thought she was dying; whatever Erik was doing to her had to be sinful. Nothing this good could be otherwise. She was going to hell, wasn’t that where all harlots went? Christine could think no longer, as with a rush of ecstasy she came, with his mouth pressed against her in the most intimate kiss of all. He lifted his head to look at her before wiping his mouth. He stood up, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulled her off the dressing table, crushing his lips to hers, thrusting his tongue into her mouth.
He pulled away with satisfaction as he let her taste herself on his lips. Her eyes strayed to his pants, seeing the tautness of the material. What lie beneath it seemed to swell even further under her gaze. She knew what happened between a man and woman. She had heard the more experienced girls from the chorus giggling about it often enough. Her fear had turned to desire and a curiosity to see what lay beneath…Erik read her expression correctly.
“Do you want to see what you do to me?”
“I do that?” she asked.
He smiled at her naiveté. She really had no knowledge of the power she had over him. He had lived a cautious life before she had bloomed to womanhood these past 12 months. He had thrown that all away on L’amour. He held back the ironic laugh at the thought that a woman could undo the legendary Phantom. Almost every night since he had recognised what his true feelings for her were, he had lain awake in an agony of want.
When he had first come to her room tonight, it had been his intention to humiliate her and take what belonged to another. Just the thought of Raoul’s reaction on his wedding night and finding his bride no longer a virgin, would have brought him great satisfaction. However, he realised now, that if he took her, he would never allow her to belong to anyone, but he.
“Only you,” he replied.
“Then yes,” she breathed.
Erik’s movements were slow as they went to the fastening of his trousers. He unbuttoned his fly, to reveal dark hairs that rested above his member. As he undid the remaining buttons, it sprang free to rest on his belly. In the candlelight, she could see a bead of moisture glistening on the tip. She reached out a shaky hand to touch it. He groaned, guiding her hand until it curled around his erection. His hand covered hers as he moved it on his shaft. She seemed to pick up the rhythm easily and he wondered if she had done such a thing for the Vicomte. Anger burned inside him anew, she was meant to be his. She was still innocent in body, but who knew what liberties that ignorant boy had taken with her person.
He watched with fascination as her tiny hand pumped him harder, instinctively picking up speed. Erik closed his eyes feeling the pressure build in his body, he could let her take him to the edge, spill his seed into her hand, but he wanted more than that. He wanted to be buried inside her when that moment came.
He took her hand away, surprising her as he picked her up and carried her to the sofa in the corner of the room. He stood back to removed the rest of his garments, naked except for the black mask.
“Please, I need to see all of you,” she begged.
Erik knew what she meant. “No, I can not compare to your pretty lover Christine. Better like this and you can pretend that I am everything you ever wanted,” he said bitterly.
She could see by the hardened glitter in his eyes that he would be unmoveable on the subject. He lifted her chemise over her head until she was naked before him. Her small high breasts were hardened to nubs in the chill of the dressing room. Erik joined her on the long sofa half covering her body with his own. His lips made contact with the curve of her throat, as he suckled the soft flesh leaving his mark upon her skin. She watched as his dark head went lower and licked at a nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Waves of pure pleasure went from the tip of her breasts to settle between her legs.
She stroked the smooth firm flesh of his back, as he parted her thighs. He rubbed his erection against her belly, its hardness digging into her slightly. She could feel the wetness of the head moistening her skin. She pressed against his shaft invitingly, causing him to moan deep in his throat. What had started out as cold seduction had somehow changed into mutual desire. All thoughts of her fiancée far from her mind as she touched and caressed every part of her soon to be lover’s body.
He had taught her music, it seemed only fitting that he teach her this as well. Erik trailed a hand along her body, until he slipped a couple of fingers inside her, moving in and out in slowly. She hid her face in the curve of his shoulder, as his fingers worked faster, rubbing her clit at the same time. Christine came again, her inner walls gripping the fingers inside her. Erik removed them and she lifted her head to look in his eyes.
“I want you…but I am afraid…will it hurt much do you think?” she asked.
“Christine, I won’t lie, it will, but I will try to be gentle with you,”
Christine looked down between their bodies at his engorged sex; just the size of it filled her with fear.
“I know you would never hurt me intentionally. Forgive me for ever thinking otherwise. Take me Erik,”
She boldly curled her fingers around him and guided him to her entrance. He eased the head in, met by the barrier of her innocence. Christine drew back a little at the pain.
“You want me to stop?” he asked. He wanted her so badly, but even now, if she asked him he would stop.
Christine looked into his eyes, seeing the love and desire for her shining in them and in one movement; she wrapped her legs around him and pushed him down on her. He sank into her, up to the hilt, her cry of pain smothered by his kisses. Not all the things he had learned about men and women in his books had prepared him for this. He drew back. Unshed tears rimmed his eyes as he looked at her. Erik saw the tears as they fell down her own face, hating himself for being the cause of them.
“Christine…I love you,” he whispered, breaking the silence.
“I love you too,” she replied, haltingly.
The pain was beginning to fade, she moved against him urging him on. Erik responded by pulling out of her and thrusting back into her again, deep and hard. Her cry this time was not one of pain. Their bodies began to take over, as she gripped his hips. Their coupling became urgent and wild as both of them clamoured for deeper penetration. Instinctively he took one of her legs and lifted it over his shoulder, bringing them closer together. Their sweat-dampened bodies rocked together, the force of his thrusts pushing her up the sofa into an almost sitting position.
Erik felt the tell tale pressure building up inside him. Too many nights had he pleasured himself with Christine’s image in his mind to mistake what he was feeling.
“Christine I need to come…”
The words hardly registered with her, all she could feel was his wonderful body as it pounded into her repeatedly. She could feel the sensations of earlier take over her, suddenly realising what he meant, he was close to completion too and was asking her permission to do so.
“Come with me Erik…in me,” she replied as her own release began.
It was all the encouragement he needed as he slammed into her once more. Letting out a growl, he spilled his seed inside her, riding the deepest orgasm he had ever experienced. Christine felt him come inside her body, revelling in the feel of the strange warmth as it flooded her being, her inner walls gripping him as if they would never let go. She clung to him as they rode the waves of their mutual pleasure. Erik collapsed against her breasts, exhausted and spent.
Both scarce had time to draw breath, when they were rudely interrupted by a knock on the door. “Miss Daae, curtain call in five minutes,”
“Oh God,” she cried, as she met Erik’s gaze.
He was still buried deep inside of her, but his mask of cynicism, covered his face once more, more effectively than a mask ever could. She could tell his mood by the hard glitter that had returned to his eyes as he pulled out of her and moved away.
“Your public awaits,” he told her.
“I do not care anymore…Erik take me away, anywhere, as long as I can be with you,” she begged.
“Do you mean that?” he asked.
“With all my heart and soul,”
“Then I will not lie to you. I intended to kidnap you during the performance of the opera. I have everything already rigged up for such an event,”
“Please you must not! The place is filled with police as you know,” She pleaded.
“And what of Raoul? You gave a pretty convincing performance of loving him up until this point,”
She hung her head in shame. “I was wrong. I know where my heart lies now…I meant it Erik, I love you,”
“If you mean what you say, be prepared to meet me on the stage, do not fear my love. It takes more than a few policemen to catch the phantom,”
Erik got up from the sofa, walked over to the washstand, took the jug, bowl, and flannel from it, and walked back to her. He knelt down, poured some water into the bowl, and soaked the cloth in it. Christine flushed as she realised his intentions. She went to stop him.
“Let me do this service for you in return for the precious gift you gave me this evening,” he told her gently.
“Erik…was it your first time too?” She had to know, the thought of him and another was eating her up inside.
He took her hand and placed it on his chest so she could feel the rhythm of his heart beneath her fingers.
“This heart beats for you and you alone. How could you think I would ever want to be with anyone but you. You are my first and only love,” he told her.
“Thank you,” she replied.
Erik replaced the cloth in the bowl and helped her to dress, retrieving the rose that had fallen from her hair during their lovemaking. He pulled on his pants and slipped his shirt over his head. He still had not removed his mask. He could tell she was disappointed by it.
“When we are on the bridge during the “Point of no return” song, you can take off my mask,”
“Oh no, I could not do that! To humiliate you in public!” she cried.
Erik stood behind her as he laced up her corset. “It will be the perfect distraction for us to make our escape. If you do not, I will take it as a sign that you have changed your mind and no longer wish to leave with me,”
“Very well I will do it,” she said “But how will you get on stage. Piangi is Don Juan,”
“Leave it to me,”
“Promise me no more killing Erik, please,” she begged.
Erik tied the shawl around her middle. “I promise. Until we meet again…” he pressed a quick kiss on her lips and disappeared through the mirror, returning a moment later as he placed a key into her hand. “I locked the door earlier, you might need this,”
This time he was gone, leaving her speechless for a moment, before there was another knock at the door.
“Christine,”
It was Raoul. Her eyes flew guilty to the stain that graced the sofa, the physical evidence of her infidelity. She hastily threw a cover over it and pushed the bowl under the sofa.
“One moment,”
She walked over to the door and unlocked it.
“Why was the door locked?” he asked her.
“I was being careful, one never knows who might visit their dressing room. I was being cautious and now I have an opera to perform. You had better take your seat,” she told him.
He studied her face. “You look different,”
“What do you mean?”
Raoul touched her face. “I have never seen you look like that before. Your eyes glow as though some one has lit a candle inside of you,”
Christine looked away, no longer able to face the open adoration in his eyes. “I really must go…goodbye Raoul. Thank you for everything,”
She pressed a kiss to his cheek and hurried away. He frowned at her strange choice of words as he made his way to box five.
* * * * * * * * * *
Erik could hear the strains of the music from his high perch as he waited for Piangi to come through the curtains for his costume change. The curtains were flung back and the sweaty corpulent Piangi emerged. Erik leapt down and struck the man hard across the head with a cudgel, hoping that he had hit him hard enough to keep him out of the way until he and Christine had managed to escape.
He had heard her singing her song, she had sounded more beautiful to him than ever. There was an edge of longing in her voice that reached out to him. Erik made sure he was ready and on cue, he came back through the curtains and onto the stage. His cape was arranged so that the change of actor would be not apparent until it was too late. He sang the words to the other actor and walked towards her, willing her to look at him.
He could see Christine kneeling on the stage, nervously plucking at a rose she held in her hands. He was momentarily distracted, as he remembered the feel of those hands on his body. She turned to glance at him as she recognised his voice. He placed a finger on his lips as her startled expression.
Christine glanced away, and closed her eyes, letting his voice wash over her. Raoul watched from his vantage point, still unaware of the change of actors, he gaze fixed only on Christine. It was not until he noticed the other members of the corps line the edges of the stage, drawn by his voice, that he realised with shock that it was the Phantom on the stage with Christine.
Christine glanced back at Erik as he gave her long meaningful deep looks that had the power to arouse her on the stage for the whole world to witness. She only prayed that they would believe it to be part of the performance. She stood up, her lips parting as he came closer to her. Her body already a mass of aching need for her lover.
She watched transfixed, as he circled her on stage. Longing for his touch on her bare skin. As he sang the words “let the dream descend”, she hoped that if it were a dream that she would never awaken from it. In the next instant he grabbed her to him, holding her against his body so she could be in no doubt that he wanted her as much. She pressed her herself against his hardened body, revelling in the feel of it. While he held her by the throat and sang words of pure seduction in her ear.
Raoul watched in fascinated horror as his fiancée was almost publicly making love to his rival for all of Paris to witness. There was no fear in her eyes as she looked at the Phantom, only desire. He had never seen her look at him that way. It was then that he knew he had lost her, her parting words coming back to him.
Erik and Christine separated on centre stage. She struggled to get her raging emotions under control as she glanced up at Raoul, feeling pity for him. Erik saw where she glanced and fear struck at his heart. If she were having second thoughts then he would want to die after all they had shared together so recently.
However she turned back to face Erik, a slight smile on her face as she sang the words “I’ve decided,” followed by a nod of her head.
The heat of his gaze as it looked up at her caused a flood of moisture to pool between her legs. The haughty way he regarded her told her that he knew he was master of her body and knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Their gazes locked on each other as they made their way to the stairs for the finale of the number. They slowly climbed while she sang to him. Raoul got up from his seat, the tears shone in his eyes as he watched them. As much as it tore at his heart, he had to admit that they looked beautiful together.
Erik and Christine walked towards each other on the bridge, he flung his cape to the side and they met in the middle. She held on to him as he spun her around into his arms. She sighed against him and closed her eyes. Erik’s hands covered hers as he ran them over her body.
She was so absorbed in the feel of him that she almost missed her cue. Christine opened her eyes and turned to look at him. She was surprised as he spoke the words that Raoul had spoken to her on the snowy rooftop so long ago. She looked at him with unshed tears in her eyes as her hand cupped his face, her fingers touching the edge of his mask.
There was an unspoken question in her eyes and he nodded at her almost imperceptibly before she tore the mask from his face, taking the wig with it. He was unprepared for the screams that filled the theatre, but most of all he was not prepared for the way Christine still had the same expression on her face as she saw the fullness of his deformity properly for the first time. There was no fear, only love.
He quickly gathered himself together as he grabbed Christine. “Trust me,” he whispered in her ear.
Erik took out a knife and cut a red rope that had looked like it was supposed to be part of the scenery. He kicked at the trap doors beneath them and gripped her tightly and they fell together. For one hysterical moment, she wondered if they were going to die, until several old mattresses that had been heaped at the bottom softened their fall.
He helped her up, almost dragging her behind him. There was not a moment to lose as he led her down to his underground lair. Cries of an angry mob could already be heard from above.
Once they were there, he took a candlestick and smashed one of the mirrors, exposing a passageway that lay behind it. He turned and held out a hand and she took it. She smiled at him, knowing they were both thinking of that night he had led her through a mirror all those months ago.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes my love,” she replied as they walked through the tunnel together and the curtain fell behind them.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Raoul had narrowly escaped box five with his life. He left the theatre, not even bothering to pursue Christine and the Phantom. She had made her choice. it had been evident with her eyes, her body and the regret on her upturned face as she had glanced at him. He called for his carriage, waiting for it to arrive. It was then that he saw another carriage being driven out of the opera stables at an indecent speed, that he knew who was in it, even if he hadn’t glanced the joyous face of his childhood sweetheart from within.
Any other man might have pursued them, begging her to see sense, but Raoul knew when he was defeated. “Be happy Christine…Don Juan Triumphs indeed,” he said to himself sadly, as he got into his waiting carriage.
THE END
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