Page 13 of Angel's Fall
Christine screwed her eyes shut and buried her face against the exposed skin of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “He was there. Raoul.”
It was like Erik turned to stone at the sound of his rival’s name, his arms tightening around Christine as his body went terrifyingly still.
“Why?” His tone made Christine shudder. She tried to stem her fear with the feel of Erik safe in her arms, but there was nothing safe about him in that moment.
“He was hiding in the dressing room last night when you came for me. He heard you. Erik, he heard me say your name! He knows who you are.”
“What?” Erik pulled back, holding Christine by the shoulders, and once again like there was no solid ground beneath her. “That coward was hiding? I will have his hide!”
“No!” Christine cried, grabbing Erik as if she could keep him in check with pure will. “I told him not to speak of it to anyone! I told him if he wanted to be safe, he’d keep it to himself and I’d explain!” Fresh tears burned at the corners of Christine’s eyes.
“How do you intend toexplainthis? He won’t rest now!” Erik countered. “He won’t give up until he’s saved the damsel from the hideous monster. From the manhe knows I am.”
Christine braced herself. She knew what had to be done if she wanted to keep her angel safe in the dark. Even if it was terrible. She would do it.
“So I’ll make him think he can save me.” Christine waited, watching Erik as her words settled in his mind. She waited for his fury or panic, but there was only devastation. “I’m going to meet him tomorrow. Outside the Opera. I’m going to lie to him as much as I have to. I’ll convince him of whatever he needs to believe and keep him in checkuntil he leaves.”
“What?” Erik asked. She could see moisture at the edges of his deep amber eyes now too.
“He’s going to the North Pole! He’ll be gone in a fortnight. Forever.”
“That’s a fortnight too long,” Erik protested, violently wringing his hands through his hair. “Anything could happen in that time. You could—”
Christine grabbed Erik’s wrists, forcing him to look at her, forcing him to remember that she was there and close. She placed her hand against his palm so he could see the ring. His ring.
“I swear I won’t do anything you’re dreading. I won’t take this off. I’ll still beyours.” The way Erik changed as he looked at the ring was like a curtain rising.
Christine seized on the vulnerability and kissed him. She didn’t know how to speak to this man, not really. Theirs had always been a connection beyond words, of flesh and music and tethered souls. There were no words that could calm him or keep him or convince him, only the truth that had been there since her first fumbling quests for ecstasy at the behest of a fallen angel.
“I’ll always be yours,” she murmured against his unmasked cheek.
“Show me.” The command in Erik’s voice was like nothing she had heard since he had been an unseen angel. There was power in it, unquestionable and undeniable, and it made Christine tremble. He knew she would give him anything. She would let him take it now.
She kissed him again and pressed herself against the growing hardness at his groin, stoking the fire. Erik’s hands swept up her body, possessive and powerful, caressing her breasts and then finding the neckline of her dress, undoing her buttons with a thief’s skill as Christine tried her best to aid him. They fumbled until just her chemise hid her breasts and Christine gasped as Erik tore the fabric apart, exposing her to the cold air and the starving attentions of his mouth.
He lifted her by the hips as he took one of her tight nipples into his mouth, sending Christine’s mind into a fog of lust. Soon she was on his bed and he was tearing at her skirts and underthings, exposing the body that was his to claim. He drew back when she was bare, looming above her on his knees with the dark branches of his bed’s canopy spreading like wings behind him. Christine was breathless below him, thighs clasped loosely and her chest heaving.
“I said: show me,” Erik ordered and pushed her legs apart.
Christine groaned as heobservedher, and of their own accord, her hands moved to her slickened sex. “This is what you do to me. This is you.”
Erik pushed her hands away as he fell between her thighs and began to devour. He knew every way to touch her, which flick of his tongue or graze of a finger would send cascades of pleasure through her. Her hips rose and fell, chasing his mouth and begging for more.
She felt the climax rising inside her as he slid two fingers into her in perfect rhythm. The peak of pleasure began to tighten in her gut... Then Erik’s fingers and mouth were gone, and Christine cried out in shock at the denial.
Erik’s eyes were dark and deadly as she looked to him. He wiped her glistening wetness from his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned. “Not yet.”
Christine bit her lip. The feeling of being at his mercy, under his control like never before since unmasking him, made her dizzy. She nodded. “I won’t come until you allow it, I promise.”
“I think I’ll test that.” Erik’s voice resonated straight to her core. Suddenly, not coming at that very instant was a daunting task. Even more so when his mouth returned to her cunt, lapping languidly at the most sensitive parts of her. His fingers joined, gradually slipping inside her, making Christine feel every second of pleasure.
“Fuck,” Christine heard herself gasp, no other more civilized word coming to mind as he continued. The vibrations of his smug laughter against her sex sent another delicious wave of sensation through her. She reeled, clasping at the sheets and trying to control her ragged breath, anything to hold back and obey even as he hooked his finger inside of her and made her scream. Her hips rose off the bed, but she held back. For him, she held back. At last, he gave her mercy and drew away.
“Impressive,” Erik purred. Suddenly his mouth was on hers again, and she tasted herself on his lips, pungent and sweet. The kiss was dizzying, almost enough to make her forget that his body was between her splayed legs now. The feel of his cock at her entrance brought her back.
“Please,” she begged.
Her angel obliged, but not as she hoped. Erik entered with slow, agonizing precision, not faltering until he filled her completely, stretching her wide. Then, with the same steady, unbearably careful pace, he drew out as Christine choked on groans of agony and delight. Again, he slid into her, letting her feel every centimeter of him until she was sure she would burst, before retreating again. Again and again, meticulous and perfect and wonderful, but not enough to finish her. Not enough at all.
