You Alone

DISCLAIMER: See chapter 1.


A/N: I am so, so, so sorry that it has taken me this long to update. I have been really busy with my job and studies - I should be writing an essay even now. Try to forgive me...

Since English is not my native language and I am really not that skilled in it, it is practically impossible for me to find all the errors and typos in my texts. That is pretty much, why I have finally decided to find myself a new beta both for my Phantom related and for my X-Files related stories. Volunteers?

The shorter version of this chapter will be posted on fanfiction.net and DBCA. If you want to read the full, more graphic version, PM or mail me or go to read it at adult-fanfiction.org and Notes (www.unending-night.com/fiction).

Last but not least, thank you all for the reviews. :) You guys rock!


CHAPTER 5 - Our Passion Play


She was not sure how she had ended up in the music room in the middle of the night. She was not sure why she was there. Yet, she was completely sure that there was something different in this night, something different from all the other nights she had spent in this room, listening to her Angel.
"Erik?"
She hated her voice, how weak it sounded. She was not afraid - or was she? Her eyes fixed on the flickering flame of a candle. Where was he?


Suddenly, his voice filled the room. "I hope you did not wait for me too long, mon ange."
She jumped slightly at its sound. There was something different in his voice, too. It was almost as if Erik would have been in the room, too. She quickly turned around but saw nothing out of ordinary.
"No, I did not," she answered.
He did not miss the way in which her voice trembled ever so slightly.
"Are you nervous?" he asked, not even trying to hide his amusement.
"I - I don't know," she answered, truthfully. "Maybe a bit," she added soon.
"You have no reason to be, Christine."


She could once again feel all the resistance leave her mind at the sound of him. His voice was both gentle and powerful - dominating and succumbing at the same time. She closed her eyes and heard a soft sigh escape her lips.
"What is it, Angel?"
There was a hint of worry in his voice. She wanted him to be there so desperately that she could almost feel his warm breath caress the back her neck as if he would have been standing right behind her. She knew better than to open her eyes and check if he was there. He never was there - physically. This way she could at least imagine that he was standing there.
"I want you to be here, Erik," her voice was barely above whisper.
"Did I not tell you that I shall be wherever you want me to be?"
Why did he tease her?
"Yes, you did," she finally answered, "but you still are not here."
His chuckle sent shivers down her back.
"What makes you think so, mon ange?" He did not wait for her answer before continuing, "Can you not feel my breath on your neck? Can you not feel my hands on your shoulders? Can you not feel my poor heart in your hands?"


Now that he mentioned it, she actually could feel him - his warm breath tingling the sensitive skin on the back of her neck, his gloved hands running up and down her arms. In addition, she had always known that she had his heart in her hands. She stubbornly refused to open her eyes, even though her rational mind tried to force her to turn around and see if he really is there. He had played his tricks on her mind before - why would he not do it now?


"Do you know, mon ange, that our son knows that your husband is not his father?"
"No, I did not," she answered truthfully, "but it does not surprise me. Philippe is as intelligent as you are, Erik."
"And as beautiful as his mother."
She could feel his lips now, pressing gently against the side of her neck, planting some kisses there.
"It kills me to be away from you and him," he admitted, pain and agony clear in his voice. "I would have never wanted to leave you with the boy."
"Raoul has been kind to-"
"Do not say his name," he cut her off, his mouth never leaving her neck. "Unless..."
"'Unless' what?"
"Unless you want to be with him rather than with me."
She blindly reached her hand up and touched his unmasked cheek gently.
"Never," was the only word to escape her lips before she realized something.


She was touching him.


She could feel him.


He was there.


Her eyes opened and she turned around as quickly as she humanly could. She was right. There he was - as tall and dark as always. There were some grey locks in his hair and perhaps a few more wrinkles on his face but otherwise, he had not changed a bit since that night when Philippe was born. She drank in the sight in front of her and watched a smile slowly curve his lips.
"Erik," she whispered.
"Christine," he answered as softly.
Then, his lips were on hers, hard and demanding. She had no choice but to answer the kiss - not that she would not have wanted to. Erik's kisses were so different from Raoul's - darker, more dangerous. Kissing Erik was almost similar to listening to his music. If you did not give all you have, you would be completely lost.


His hands were now in her hair and hers were around his neck. She was so close to him that she could feel his heart beat in time with hers. When he led her to the sofa and gently laid her down there, she did not resist. When he slowly undressed her, she did not object. When she finally felt his lips on her naked skin, she could not suppress a moan. She could feel his lips curve into a smile before he kissed his way down, past her breasts and past her stomach, stopping right before touching the place where she wanted him the most.


She opened her eyes, not realizing until then that she had closed them.
"Why did you stop?"
Was that her voice? Since when had it been so husky?
"Do you know how absolutely divine you are, Christine?" he asked with his most seducing voice. His hands found their ways to her breasts and began to caress her already hard nipples. "Do you know how beautiful the colour of your skin is?"
She moaned as an answer and reached up starting to struggle with his clothes. She wanted him, too, naked. He did nothing to help her - quite on the contrary. He lowered his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth. It took her a moment to realize that he was once again using his skills as a ventriloquolist, as his voice continued its verbal caresses, which were almost as effective as his mouth on her breast. His other hand began sneaking its way down, following the very same path his mouth had but moments earlier.


She did not even try to suppress her moan as his hand finally found the very center of her. She was already so ready for him. His lips curved into a smile once again as he moved upwards and claimed her mouth once again in a passionate kiss. His other hand joined hers, which were desperately trying to free him from his clothes, as one of his long fingers plunged within her and begin to move rather quickly. Soon he added another finger.


Within a few seconds, he was as naked as she was and she was at the brink of ecstasy.
"Erik, please," she asked with a voice which was somewhere between a moan and a sigh.
"Please what?" he asked, meeting her eyes now.
"I do not want to wait anymore. Please."
She could see something in his eyes - something that should not have been there - almost devilish glint.
"Are you sure? Do you know what you are asking for?"
His voice was as seductive as ever, yet she could not understand what he meant. Of course, she wanted him. Of course, she knew what she was asking for. She was asking for the father of her child to prove his love to her. She was asking him to make her his again. She could love no-one as she loved him. She could love him alone.
"You alone, Erik," she managed.


He smiled once again and removed his fingers from her.
"As you wish, mon ange," he murmured into her ear before pushing into her with a groan.
He stayed very still for a few seconds, before starting to move ever so slowly. She met his every stroke, trying to will him to move faster. She was already quite sure that she would lose her mind unless he started to speed up. She managed to get on top of him - which caused them to fall on the ground with a soft thump. He chuckled softly at her but quickly his laughter turned into moans as she began to ride him fast. It did not take long before she orgasmed and he followed her over the edge after a few quick pushes.


As they later lay on the floor, her head on his naked chest, she could hear him hum a lullaby. The last coherent thought crossing her mind before falling asleep was that they were now, indeed, well past the point of no return.


She woke up in her own bed a few hours later, her husband on her side. This time, though, she was sure that she had not dreamt and it did not really surprise her when she a couple of weeks later realized that she was pregnant. Her husband was - of course - excited. She knew that he wanted another son. A son who would not be as obsessed with music as Philippe was. She was not completely sure of the father's identity, yet somehow she knew that Raoul should not wait for a blond haired child.