“Good. So good.” Christine opened her eyes at the words, looking up at the lover above her, spurred on by his praise. His gold eyes were dark with lust, his hair a mess, and his pale, scarred skin shining with sweat. She wrapped her legs around his narrow hips and swallowed.
“More. Give me more,” she begged. “Let me show you how good I can be.”
“As you wish,” Erik replied, voice ragged. Finally, blessedly, he began to fuck into her with fierce power that made her keen anew.
“Yes, oh God! Give me everything,” Christine cried, holding on for dear life with each brutal thrust, her whole body shaking with the effort of caging her pleasure.
Erik twined his fingers in her hair and pulled, sending new shocks to her core. Christine reached up to the headboard, frantically bracing herself as her ruthless lover continued to pound into her, unrelenting and unquestionable. She felt that telltale tightening again and bit down on the only thing close, the shoulder of the man driving her mad with need. The man who she needed to trust her.
“Almost. Almost, my love, just a few moments longer,” Erik rasped in her ear.
Christine whimpered, because the love and trust in his voice was perfect. She needed to give him this, but she was soclose. She was going to die if she didn’t find release soon.
“Please, please,” she babbled, her body as tight as a violin string ready to snap. “Please. Erik... God... Please. I need to come.”
“Who do you belong to?” His rhythm grew erratic, his muscles tight. He was close too.
“You. I belong to you,” Christine nearly wept. “I loveyou.”
“Now,” Erik cried, convulsing as he came, and Christine followed with a ragged gasp. The climax tossed her like a bird in a storm, cascading through her with bolts of lightning that blinded her as Erik poured out his seed, groaning with the same pleasure.
He panted as he collapsed on the bed beside her, spent. Christine was entirely unable to move, the pinnacle still close and comforting, like the warmth of a fire.
“I love you,” Erik said softly.
Christine turned to see him staring at her through the shadows. She pulled him close, resting her head against his heart. The beat of it was always a comfort, and she would not lose it.
––––––––
“You can’t hide in hereforever.”
Shaya rose from the prayer mat to see Darius at his door. Only a year younger than Shaya, he had always had a softer face and manner. His jaw was rounded while Shaya’s was sharp, and his eyes were always soft and kind, despite the darkness he’d seen. Which was what made it all the more concerning to see him looking angry.
“I’m not hiding,” Shaya lied.
“What happened last night? Did you see Daaé? Is she safe?” Darius asked, proving his kindness once again with his concern for Erik’s whore.
“She’s more than safe. She’shis. Body and soul,” Shaya replied darkly. “He loves her.”
“I don’t like how pleased you seem about a revelation you should have already guessed.” Darius stood aside as Shaya strode from his room back into the humble parlor of their flat.
“Don’t you see? That’s what’s going to kill him. This love will destroy him.”
“Like Ramin?” Shaya’s heart collapsed at the sound of his brother’s name. The brother who had died because Erik had corrupted him, like everything else he touched. “And then you’ll have your justice?”
“Yes, exactly. That’s always been the goal. Why are you acting so concerned now?”
“Because for a few hours last night, I was worried you were dead, and I didn’t like it.”
“We’ve always known the risks of this endeavor, but we do it because it’s righteous,” Shaya protested, suddenly uncomfortable under Darius’s implacable gaze.
“Youdo it, and I support you because it is the only thing keeping you alive and sane,” Darius replied. “If Erik loves her, he will kill to keep her – you know that.”
“I won’t be the one who takes her,” Shaya protested. “I’ll only guide the one who will.”
“The Vicomte who’s done with her? What if she’s loyal to Erik? What if she loves him in return like—”
“No one could ever love that monster, not if they’ve seen what he is!” Shaya roared. He pushed the memory of Daaé dancing with Red Death from his mind, as well as her words of pity and dewy eyes. “She’s a fool who’s been ensnared and blinded by ambition.”