Page 99 of Angel's Kiss
“Christine,” Erik sighed as she kissed at his neck and jaw, finding the places she knew rendered him pliant with pleasure. His cock stirred between them as she pressed close, rising as if at her command. “My Christine.” Her name in his angel’s voice made her knees grow weak.
“My angel,” she sighed in reply as she sank to her knees in a blasphemous mockery of supplication. She nuzzled his warm member through the fabric, leaving all propriety and dignity behind. This was hers.
She held her breath as she undid his belt and the fastenings of his trousers, her hands trembling at the knowledge of what she was about to do. She freed his hardening member and steeled herself, listening to Erik’s ragged breath before she licked his cock warily from base to tip.
Erik gave a gasp that dissolved into one long moan as Christine repeated the action. The taste of him was bitter, but not unpleasant, and she lapped curiously at his crown, wondering what he might do as she explored new textures with her tongue.
“What are you doing?” Erik asked, his voice choked and tremulous as Christine dared to look up at him through her lashes.
She gazed into the face of a killer, a horrible sight that would fill any sane person with disgust and fear. The terror of the Opera, who would kill a man without hesitation to keep his angel safe or to assure she remained his. Christine knew she was mad to think she could control him. She was a harlot of the highest order to prostrate herself before such a creature to keep his trust. But there was no other choice. There never had been.
“Let me show you how I am yours,” she said before she took his cock into her mouth without another second of hesitation.
Christine recalled the bawdy lesson Robert had given her. She sucked then licked, then sucked again as Erik gave a broken cry like none she had ever heard from him before. It was an education, an experiment in what she could do to him and what he liked. She added her hands to her ministrations, gripping the length she could not take past her lips, as well as toying with his balls and base. He cried out again at that, thrusting his hips so that he drove deep past her tongue and into her throat. She gagged, but she was undeterred. She continued, breathing in the musky scent of him through her nose.
“Christine...gods above...I...Christine...” he babbled, and the music of his voice was spurred her on. She relaxed her jaw, taking as much of him as she could and then more, bit by bit, her lips tight around his girth. This time when he began to move, she was ready for him and bobbed her head in tandem. She closed her eyes, accustoming herself to the weight of him on her tongue, the heat of him and the alien taste.
Did he feel this powerful when he ministered to her like this? Did it send a rush of pleasure through him every time he provoked a new cry or twitch as he commanded her ecstasy? Even though she was on her knees, she knew he had never been so completely at her mercy. He was utterly and absolutely hers.
She felt the falter of his hips as the first sign, then the tightening of his balls and the twitch of his cock as his breath grew strangled and shallow. She sucked hard in response as he fucked into her mouth once. Twice. A final time and suddenly he cried out, grabbing her hair and holding her in place as hot, bitter spend poured from him into Christine’s waiting throat. She swallowed it down, remarking how at last, he had spilled his seed inside her.
She pulled back with his hands still in her hair, wiping her mouth in amazement at this new sin. Erik fell to his knees before her, breathless, collapsing against her shoulder and taking them both to the floor.
“Do you believe me now?” Christine asked, her voice husky as Erik panted against her breast.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Promise me you’ll make him disappear. I hate him. Make him disappear for me. Break his heart.”
“I promise I will,” Christine replied without qualm, and she was not shocked when Erik kissed her in return. Could he taste her devotion and damnation on her tongue? “No more of that now,” she commanded as Erik’s lips parted from her. “He doesn’t matter now. You’re going to make me forget him, aren’t you?” Erik nodded vehemently. “Make me forget him, my Erik, right now.”
And as she knew he would, her broken angel obeyed, tearing at her clothes as he rushed to undress her. Soon she was bare for him, her nipples hard and her skin rough with gooseflesh in the cold of their hidden home. Erik kissed her everywhere, his mouth and hands like heaven upon her skin. He barely seemed to notice when she pushed him to his back and took her place above him. But he did groan in hungry bliss as she framed his face with her thighs and let him taste her dripping desire at last.
Christine sighed in relief and delight as Erik hid his awful face between her legs. He was hers, and she was his. The thought overcame her as she rutted her cunt against his eager mouth, his tongue undoing her. She forgot everything, every crime and every care, as he devoured and delved with lips and clever finger. She threw her head back, her soul lost entirely in ecstasy as she looked up to Erik’s painted stars and came with a long, echoing scream.
––––––––
Raoul woke with a cryfrom the nightmare, his hands at his neck. The world swam into focus around him as searing pain filled his head.
“Easy now! You’re hurt!”
Raoul fell back onto his bed and squinted at Sabine. Why was it sobright? “Dear God, what time is it?” he groaned. It had been past midnight when...when he had seen her with a monster! “Christine! Where is—”
“I knew she had something to do with this!” Sabine crowed. She was seated by his bed and diffuse sunlight was coming in the windows.
“How did I get here?” Raoul demanded, trying once again to rise. “I have to go. I have to find her! She’s in danger!”
“Call the Comte,” Sabine said to a waiting servant as she rushed to her brother. “Raoul, it’s past noon. The doctor said to let you sleep. And we don’t—” His sister stifled a sob, covering her mouth. “We don’t knowhowyou got home! Someone rang at three in the morning and we found you on the steps! You were covered in mud and bleeding! And those bruises!”
Raoul reached for his throat as Sabine began to weep. It was tender from where the man in the mask had choked him. But before that, Raoul was sure he had worn a different mask.
“Oh thank heaven you’re awake!” Philippe exclaimed as he burst into the room. “You certainly gave us a fright! What on earth happened? I should like to call the police!”
“They won’t be able to do anything,” Raoul muttered, thinking back to the night before. “How could they apprehend a ghost?”
“A what?” Sabine asked through her tears.
“How hard did you hit your head?” Philippe asked at the same time.
“It was the Opera Ghost,” Raoul said, remaining calm as his siblings stared at him. “I know it sounds insane. But I swear to you last night I went to see if that letter was right, hoping I could find Christine.” Raoul swallowed. He did not need to give them the whole tale. He would sound even more divorced from his senses if he were to confess to hearing the voices of angels wafting through the night. The man’s voice had been exactly the one he had heard in Christine’s dressing room. Then he’d found them and saved Christine from a monster about to claim her lips.
