Author: TragedyBunny PM
A collection of drabbles based on different version's of Erik's story, most were originally posted in lj community potocontest. I'm a huge ErikChristine fan, but I will explore other pairings as well. This collection is now completed.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Erik & Christine - Chapters: 23 - Words: 12,537 - Reviews: 20 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 02-19-09 - Published: 08-21-05 - Status: Complete - id: 2545575
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Phantom copyright ALW and Leroux
The night felt as though it were unending in its torment, as though she had been imprisoned there forever. The stuffy society women crowded around her like vultures, whilst the men dragged her fiancée off to brag about how many sons she would make. To Christine Daaé this was hell on earth. Raoul's mother had arranged this masked ball, a mere two days before their wedding, as a welcome to out of town guests, and she had rigidly suffered through every moment of it. Now she was surrounded by older women, trying to give her tips on how to prepare for her first time in the marriage bed, her cheeks flushing the entire time. She could distantly see Raoul on the other side of the room, cavorting and no doubt making crude jokes with the men of his circle. And, for not the first time that night, she thought she saw another man on the fringe of the crowds, staring at her, licking his wonderfully seductive lips, and then vanishing within in the sea of masks. She shivered at the thought of those lips, an ache filling the most secret part of her.
"Christine have you heard a word I was saying?" Vanessa, Raoul's scandalous second cousin interrupted her thoughts. Christine vaguely shook her head no.
"I'm sorry Vanessa." The girl followed her gaze and smiled a wicked little grin.
"I see, I see. It will only be two more days, and then he's all yours." She nudged her with her elbow and left to cozy up to a rather wealthy, childless aunt from England. For some reason her words filled Christine with dread rather than a pleasant nervous anticipation that one would expect so near to their wedding. Her heart screamed at her that this marriage bed was all wrong, it was filled with the wrong man, there should be someone else there. She stood there for many minutes, staring at nothing, thinking nothing, just quietly feeling a sense of mourning. Finally, someone who Christine could only guess the name and relation of came along. She was an older looking, matriarchal type, and Christine prayed that she would say something that wasn't petty, gossipy or another anecdote about marital relations. The conversation began pleasant enough, but a few words made Christine stomp off muttering excuses about powdering her nose.
The lady had said to her, "You must meet my musician friend, he is very talented." Christine could have screamed, she was the fourth one tonight to tell her something of that effect. Then the hideous ancient lady stated something entirely too much for her. "I have brought him with me; he is here amongst the crowd, some where's. Perhaps I can find him and he could play for us."
She was off the deep end as she pushed out of the ballroom and into the deserted house. All of the servants had been occupied by the ball, leaving Christine free to wander the labyrinthine De Chagny manor. All night she had been stared at like a foreign animal, the object of ridicule she could only half hear. It seemed to her as though the entirety of Raoul's family had come just to stare at the strumpet opera girl who dared to attempt to raise herself beyond her stature and become a Viscountess. She was done with the entire evening and she didn't care if Raoul was furious with her. The comments about music and musicians had been never ending. She wanted nothing more than to forget she had ever sung a note in her entire life.
It only bothers you for one reason and one alone. Her subconscious prodded at her. You should have given yourself to him when you had the chance, you never should have left. She growled at herself as she ascended to the second level, in search of a place where she could find a relief in her solitude. Then, vaguely, she became aware of a melody that seemed at first in her mind. Freezing where she stood, she cocked her head to the side trying to ascertain if the melody was once again an illusion or real. Her heart thudded as she recognized it to be a real melody and she hurried upstairs in its direction, drawn by the power of that passionate piece. Past the point of no return, no going back now.
Her mind sung the words urging her towards the player of the tune. She burst through the door of one of the second floor rooms. It appeared to be simply a music room, although she could not see much of it in the dark, and there, playing by the light of a single candle was the Angel of music himself.
"Erik." Her eyes must have deceived her, her senses must have flown. She came towards him; certain he would vanish like in all the other dreams and hallucinations.
"Christine, I have come here to offer you my congratulations on your upcoming wedding, I am sure you and the Viscount will be very happy." His voice was filled with a great mix a sorrow and rage, the emotions had to be gnawing at his soul, yet he never ceased playing.
"So, you are the great musician that came with the great lady." She drew closer now, gathering in her courage.
"I needs must make a living somehow, I play for the old women, and I keep my mask on, and they adore me. Yes, I came here on purpose." He could read her without even looking at her; he could know her thoughts by her very breath. That is how well Erik knew her. It shamed her that she could hide nothing from him, least of all the desire that welled within her at the sight of him. She had once thought that such desire was sinful, part of her reason for leaving; now she knew that to be a lie. Feeling a little more courageous, she sat down next to him on the piano bench and watched as he continued to play. She watched him, aware of her desires, her chest heaving, pressing her breasts against the stiff corset she wore. She felt herself drawing nearer to him, like a moth to a flame. His playing ceased and he turned to her, a dark smile playing about his lips. "And why have you come here Christine, why do you come to me?" He sang to her then, hot notes that made her feel as though her soul were on fire. "In your mind you've already succumb to me, dropped all defenses, completely succumb to me."
Her breathing became more rapid then, her mouth opening as if waiting for his. "Why Christine you are behaving rather unseemly for an engaged woman." She came out of her trance," I...I...you sing so beautifully." He laughed and openly glanced down the front of her dress to the pert breasts within. He imagined how hard her rosy nipples were by now, how pleasurable it would be for both of them if he were to have them in his lips. His mind drifted to another part of her, a part that was likely hot and wet with desire for him and a well needed first penetration. "I do many things very beautifully my Christine."
In an instant he lunged forward, pushing his lip to hers. When she did not resist he pulled her body tight against his and drove his tongue in between her lips. He tasted the sweetness of the earthbound angel and she moaned in response to the play between their tongues. Breathless, he pulled away from her. "Just for one night, let your darker side give in Christine. That's all I ask of you, just one night. I do not ask for your heart or your hand. He gently placed his hands on her waist, his look of wanting was clear to her.
"Yes Erik. This is your right; this moment was meant for you." Her voice suddenly took to the previous melody, singing for him the song of seduction. "In my mind of already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent. Now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided."
The song impassioned him once more and he drew her close to him, and began to lay searing kisses from her cheek to her collar bone, then to the exposed flesh of her breasts. Here he gently ran his tongue over those areas and slipped into the crevice between them. Christine's hands tangled in his black hair as she moaned for him to never stop. His pants painfully constrained him as he grew harder and harder at the sound of her passion. His hands flew to her waist and roughly pulled her onto to his lap, where he assaulted her mouth once more. His hands caressed their way up her legs, carefully moving up her voluminous skirts, revealing the pale flesh of her thighs; he pulled her tight against him.
Christine moaned as she felt him rubbing against her, his hardness begging to enter her. Erik silenced her with his tongue, his hands tangling in her hair, releasing most of it from the pins that held it up. As his hand comb through the brown locks he tightened his hand in them, yanking hard, jerking Christine's head back as his mouth laid searing kisses on her neck. His other began its ascent up those perfect thighs to the space between them, there they lingered, stroking her through her undergarments. Erik could feel the heat and wetness of her, causing him to moan in unparalleled desire.
"Erik, oh Erik." Christine's voice, ragged with desire, pleaded for him to take her. Erik smiled in the dim light, fully aware that in this moment he was once again her master, not the idiot boy she was to marry.
"On the floor, remain sitting." He gruffly ordered her. Christine was quick to obey, removing herself from his lap to be seated on the floor. He rose to join her, the erection now most definitely painful. Seating himself on the floor next to her, he delicately reached up and removed the rest of her hair from its pins, letting flow over shoulders. He stared at her; she was so beautiful that it enraged him. Only one night she would be his, the Viscount would enjoy her for the rest of his life. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to the floor, straddling her and pinning her down, invading her mouth with violent thrusts of his tongue. He was delighted by the sudden fright in her eyes. "No turning back now." He reminded her as he took one hand from her shoulders and ripped away the front of her dress and the layers of fabric below it, revealing her delicate breasts and nipples as hard as little stones.
His lips flew to one, sucking on it gently. When it elicited a response, he nipped it, causing her to gasp in both shock and pleasure. Erik removed his mouth in order to stare at her as he took both of the tiny points in his fingers and massaged them. Christine began to pant, her hips rocking back and forth, trying wordlessly to convey her wants. Erik laughed. "Perhaps you should tell me what you want Christine, what you desire of me."
Her cheeks burned crimson, horrified at the thought of asking him to do it. He departed his straddling position to move between her legs and thrust her skirts up. Frustrated at the sight of her undergarments he ripped them off of her, leaving her garters and stockings, and threw them to the side. His fingers pushed their way into her, Erik shivered at the wetness he found there, Christine called his name. "Is this what you wanted my dear?" His fingers worked back and forth, drawing a number of vocal responses from her. "Do you want something else as well?"
Again a modest flush answered his query, but no words. Erik became a bit agitated with her. "You must not be naughty Christine; you must answer me when I ask a question. You were such a good girl when I taught you to sing, don't make start lashing you now." Her eyes widened with fear, and she whimpered when he removed his hand from her, as though she feared he would carry through with his threat.
He unbuttoned his trousers, removing himself from them, glad to be free of his painful confinement. He pulled her hand down towards him and wrapped it around himself moving it back and forth. "Be a good dear and continue that." He removed his hand and stared down at the glorious picture before him, Christine's delicate hand, stroking him. He drew his hand back between her legs, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive bud there, causing her heat to increase. He gently inserted two of his fingers into her and began working them together with his thumb, causing Christine to squirm, before either could climax, he broke their contact and pulled away, wanting them to peak from the actual act. Unable to contain himself any further, he removed her hand to pin both arms behind her head, and brought himself to her entrance, ready to steal her virginity from the Viscount De Chagny, and saw the fear in eyes once more.
This time he stopped however, the game would come to end if she were too afraid to continue. Murderer he may be, but rapist never. Christine looked ashamed that he should stop, as though she had done something wrong. "Why do you stop Erik?"
"You are afraid." He released her hands, which she brought up to stroke his face quite tenderly.
"I am only a little afraid, but I want you so badly."
"Ask me for it Christine, beg me to take you." He needed to hear her want, to plead for it.
"Erik, please…" He didn't move, just perched there with that self satisfied smirk on his face. "Enter me, take me, put out this fire you have ignited." He thrust himself into her, Christine winced with pain. Erik left himself still for a moment, allowing her body to mold itself to him; her virgin's blood seeped around him. He loathed himself for not being gentle, but he loved the sensation of ripping away her innocence there on the darkened music room floor. He felt the tightness of her, the newness. It squeezed him, constricted him, and made him afraid he would loose himself within the first few moments of their coupling. He began thrusting against her, slowly at first, then gaining in momentum. Christine's world became a daze of pleasure as Erik moved himself inside of her, causing her to call his name and implore him never to stop. His thrusts soon became deeper and harder, claiming her, conquering her. He loved her, he hated her. He wanted to pleasure her, he wanted to punish her. All these feelings played out at once, as his thrusts became violent, driving him in and out of her. He felt himself at the precipice of desire. "Christine." He called out as his body was racked with pleasure. "Erik." She echoed him before giving way to an exhausted moan.
They lay intertwined for a moment before he broke away. Sitting up he stared at her as she lay still upon the floor, her eyes closed. The future Viscountess, he felt the rage once more boiling up within him, not his wife or his lover. He wanted to smother her, the beat her. It would be wonderful if the seed he had planted in her took root, filling her with his child, not De Chagny's. He wanted to possess her, to break her, to make her feel the way he had that night as he watched her leave him with the fop. Unable to contain the rage, he grabbed her hips, causing her eyes to fly open. Before she could utter a sound, Erik flipped her on her stomach, and threw her skirts up once more.
He grabbed her hips to bring them up levels with his newly hardened, throbbing organ. He thrust himself into her as hard as he could manage, knowing she was raw from their first coupling. He grabbed her head, forcing down to the floor, wishing to show her that she was being subjugated. Christine obeyed his wordless commands like a trained concubine, dutifully holding every detail of the position. He violently moved himself in and out of her, grabbing her hips to keep leverage. He furiously worked her, demanding her, the surrender of her body, letting her know his anger and pain. He thought he may have heard her whimper, but he was beyond even that reaching him.
Christine felt as though her body was being torn apart from the aggression of Erik's attention. She knew it was his pain that pushed him to brutalize her, and felt as though she deserved his punishment. She whimpered in pain and pleasure as Erik used her harshly, his manhood plunging in and out of her wet mound. Until he came, pulling her down so that his entire length was inside of her, his seed completely coating her inside.
Calm washed over him as his emotions vanished, filling his veins with ice as he realized what he had done. His black rage and been banished, but at her expense. Doubtless, Christine was in pain from what he had done to her. He removed himself from her, and collapsed on his side, not bothering to right his clothing. To his surprise she came and lay next to him, her back to his chest. Wrapping his arms around herself, she snuggled up to him. "Christine, I am so very sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He wanted to cry, she hadn't deserved what had just happened.
"Erik." She cooed in his ear. "It is fine, I am fine."
"I ruined this, it should have been beautiful. Our last memories of each other."
"It was beautiful." They lay together in the darkened room for a long time, each knowing they would not meet again.