Page 44 of Angel's Fall

“I’ve never received a more welcome note,” Erik replied, halfway done with his work. “Then again I don’t get much mail.”

“I meant it,” Christine hummed as her corset fell to the ground in the close confines of the passage behind the mirror. “I want you in me. I’ve needed it since Act Two.”

Erik seized her, enveloping her in his dark embrace. She was breathless with that need as she kissed him and pulled off his mask so she could feel his cheeks. He spun her, so her ass was against his thighs and she could feel his hardening desire. He kissed ravenously along her neck and shoulders, pawing at her hips and belly through her chemise.

“Christine?” Raoul’s voice came accompanied by an insistent knock, and Erik paused with his hand on her breasts. “Are you in there?”

“For God’s sake,” Christine groaned softly. She had never been happier to have locked her dressing room door.

“Come back another night, Monsieur, Mademoiselle Daaé is busy,” Erik purred into her ear. Christine found herself grinning as he moved again, pulling down her chemise so that her tight nipples were exposed to the cool air before he took them between his fingers, twisting them gently so that Christine gasped.

“Not busy enough,” Christine exhaled, her head falling back against Erik’s chest.

“So impatient,” Erik responded, licking her ear and making her legs go wobbly. He knew exactly what he was doing and what it did to her, judging by how he snaked an arm around her waist to hold her up from collapsing. “Shall I—”

A horribly distinct sound came from the other side of the mirror: the lock rattling as a key was inserted. Erik froze, gripping Christine tight, and her eyes flew open in horror. They held their breaths as the door opened and Raoul stepped into the room. His curious face was illuminated by the gaslight as he tucked a large ring of keys into his waistcoat.

“Impertinent little swine,” Erik breathed against Christine’s ear. She shared the sentiment. How dare Raoul invade her room again. Had she not given him enough?

A distant voice chided Christine that Raoul was right not to trust her, but she wanted that persistent voice to leave her alone too. She didn’t want the reminder of her deceit and descent into the gutter. She wanted her rage and the heat still pulsing between her legs. She wanted defiance and freedom the only way she could find it.

Slowly, her eyes on Raoul on the other side of the mirror, she grasped Erik’s hand where he held it tight against her ribs and guided it downward. She felt him tense as his finger raked through her ruff, but he did not resist.

“Don’t stop,” Christine ordered in the softest whisper before biting back a gasp as Erik’s perfect fingers slipped inside her.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he commanded in turn, and Christine understood why. He wanted her to see – to look at the man on the other side of the glass who could not comprehend giving her pleasure and sin like this. Raoul turned towards the mirror, and Christine shuddered at the sight of his unfocused gaze while Erik’s fingers worked in and out of her, paying special attention to the sensitive nub that made her spasm and brace herself against the glass.

It was torture to stay silent as Erik touched her in every way he knew to drive her mad. She bit her lips hard as her body sang and hummed with pleasure while Raoul paced an arm’s length away, only separated from her by glass. She was so close, the wrongness of it all making each rub of her angel’s hand all the more delightful.

Then Erik’s hand was gone, and Christine nearly collapsed, stuttering forward silently as Erik took her by the hips and pushed her pantalettes down and off. She stifled an ecstatic sound and flattened her palms on the mirror to support herself as the lover behind her filled her with his cock.

“Where are you?” Raoul demanded as he stared into the mirror, and Christine could feel Erik looking right into his rival’s eyes in pure triumph.

I’m right here, he seemed to say, and who could tell if they were real words whispered in Christine’s ears or magic in her mind. She was too far gone to care, riding waves of pleasure as her angel fucked her fast and silent, her nipples grazing the cold glass as she arched to meet him.I’m here, Monsieur, her lover and her hope and her doom, and you will never know. I am hers as she is mine.

Christine looked up to see Erik’s hand entwine with hers and the ring she had been forced to remove for the performance slip into place. She wanted to scream her climax, but held it in, throwing back her head and closing her eyes at last so that finally, there was nothing but them. Nothing but this. Nothing but the feel of Erik coming with her, filling her with his warm seed as his hand dug into her hip hard enough to leave a mark.

She fell back against him, gasping for breath as he stroked her face. She wanted to keep her eyes closed forever. Only Erik’s embrace prevented her from falling. In fact, she was flying. Erik lifted her up with such ease, carrying her through the dark like a bride over the threshold.

“You don’t need to carry me,” Christine murmured against his shoulder.

“Nonsense.” The journey down always went so quickly when he was the guide, even with no light. Soon enough, they were at the lake, and she was wrapped in his cape as he poled the boat over the still waters. Was he Chiron or Hades? She wasn’t sure. She was his in the underworld either way.

––––––––

Shaya knew it was arisk going backstage, but he wanted not only to see what Daaé and Erik were up to, but the de Chagny boy as well. It was easy to slip in, not through the door de Chagny had been harassing, but around through the back. He kept out of the way as dancers and musicians prepared to go home after the performance – or parade themselves for the patrons in the Salon du Danse.Shaya placed himself in a secluded corner near Daaé’s dressing room and simply waited, and it did not take long for him to hear the distinctly disgruntled voice of Raoul.

“What do you mean she’s gone home?” the young man was fuming in the face of Daaé’s dresser.

“It was a very trying performance, Monsieur,” Bonet replied, tired and annoyed. “She left as soon as the curtain was down.”

“With no message for me?” Raoul asked back as Shaya peered around the corner. Bonet shrugged and shook her head. “For God’s sake, were you not watching her?”

“Watching her?” Bonet echoed. “I watched her leave and go home. I dressed her myself.”

Raoul did not look like he believed the woman, and Shaya was dubious as well. It was all too convenient for Christine to disappear again when Raoul was so eager to see her. “Are you—” Raoul began.

“Good night, Monsieur,” Bonet cut in and swept past him towards Shaya. He assumed she was on her way to harass the poor dancer she continued to corrupt. Raoul sighed powerfully just as Shaya stepped out to reveal himself.

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