Smoke grew in wispy strains from the depths of the dark lake. The water lapped gently at the wooden boat as it skimmed gently through. A glass lantern, stained from years of use, hung at the front of the boat, barely illuminating the thick velvety darkness that hung all around. A beautiful young maid sat at the stern of the boat, silent with passion and curiosity. Yet, in her heart of hearts, it was all very familiar to her.

The man behind her pushed the boat slowly onto the shore, got out, and lifted the maid by the waist out of the boat as well. She wrapped her slim arms around him, the ruffles from her costume brushing his exposed neck as she did so. Here in the darkness she could only see the whites of his eyes and the white of his mask. Everything else was shrouded in mystery. She lay her head upon his shoulder as he carried her bridal style into his lair.

They went past the candles flickering in the darkness. Their flames exposed and dancing passionately for only two to see; so only they could see. He carried her past the organ, his beloved instrument, and over the sheets and sheets of inky parchment—scores, all of them. With one final turn he brought her into a dark room. There was one large bed in the center of the room. Dark and dank maroon curtains hung from the bed creating a canopy effect. Near the bed was a mahogany nightstand with a candelabra burning brightly upon it. Christine, the young girl in the Phantom's arms, let her eyes grow round. This was his room; this was where he slept. It somehow seemed so…intimate.

The Phantom lowered her onto the bed. She sat upright, still in her peach and black costume from Don Juan Triumphant. Her little boots dangled from the edge of the bed as she swung a foot back and forth lazily. The phantom slowly removed his cloak and shed it aside. She had seen him like this before. He stood tall and proud in a suit of black and white perfectly pressed as always. The sapphire ring he usually wore around his pinkie was now upon her ring finger. She touched it softly and smiled; she should be mad, or afraid, but her happiness would not bay. The Phantom proceeded to sit down upon the bed beside her; he was unsure of what to do.

Christine, though a virgin herself, took his hand in hers. She placed her head on his broad shoulder and he began to stroke each one of her tender dark curls. Suddenly she sat up and whispered gently into his ear:

"What is your name Angel?"

He turned to her, the saddest expression fixed in his deep sapphire eyes. She closed her eyes languidly and waited for his touch. Despite his hands hovering inches from her neck and face, he did not touch her. How could he?

"My name…is Erik."

Christine hummed from somewhere in the back of her throat. It sounded deep and musical, but oddly sensual as well. Her head fell upon his chest and, as it touched him, his heart leapt with excitement.

"Erik, I love you," she said softly, not moving from her position on his chest.

"Sing for me, my angel of music," he commanded softly.

Christine sat up and gave a rueful smile. She gazed into his dark eyes quite deliberately and began her tune.

"Past the point of no return, no backward glances…"

Erik laid her flat upon the bed and undid each of the hooks on her boots one by one, very slowly and very methodically. After he did so he slid them off her feet and to the floor easily where they lay discarded and unneeded.

"Past all thought of if or when, no use resisting," she sang on.

Again Erik returned to her, this time reaching up her skirt. His hands were warm upon her and with every slight touch she trembled. Slowly he pulled down her stockings one after the other. A moan interrupted her melody momentarily, but Christine kept singing.

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold, what warm unspoken secrets will we learn?"

Erik discarded his shoes and stocks as well, letting them mingle with hers upon the floor. He crawled atop her not unlike a leopard over its prey. Christine glanced up and saw half of his face illuminated in the soft candlelight. He seemed to glow as angels often do. He leaned down towards her longingly his lips hesitating just above hers. She arched her neck and met his lips. Despite the malformations of the left side of his mouth it was still warm and soft. Erik felt her small soft lips against his. Despite the fact that she had stopped singing, he could hear an orchestration of music in his mind. Over and over he kissed her wonderful lips, tasting her innocence and her passion. He ran one hand through her soft curls and stroked her gently cheek.

Erik felt her arms go around his neck and begin to pry off his overcoat. He sat up at once to remove it, casting it aside with a grand flourish. With fervor he returned to kissing the loveliest little maid. He pecked and sucked at her neck, continuing to do so as she crooned and hummed with pleasure. She began undoing the little buttons of his cravat and, after she had done so, he cast it aside with due wantonness. Christine smiled up at him, her one love, and lay back longingly. With some fumbling he went at the buttons to her dress. After some time Chrsitine gave a light laugh then slid out from under him. She stood on the opposite side of the bed, gazing at him. With slim and lithe fingers she undid the rest of the buttons and hooks and let the dress drop to the floor. Her skirt and corset remained. With a bar of music she went to removing her underskirt as slowly as she could.

"You have brought me, to the moment where words run dry."

With only her corset and a thin slip of panties left, Christine crawled back to her lover and straddled him. She kissed him hotly on the mouth and, as he opened it, their tongues met in a fury of sparks. Erik felt himself grow harder beneath her; he panicked that she would be repulsed or unready so he picked her up again by the waist and took her off of his lap. She looked slightly startled, but bemused. She picked up her song once more, this time in a deeper more sultry voice.

"Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question: how long should we two wait, before we're one?"

Erik stood, more than aroused by her words and her voice, and removed his top as quickly as he could. His bare chest, though littered with old scars, was firm and shone in the low lighting of the room. The Phantom strode over to his one true angel and kissed her in the hollow of her throat, working the strings of her corset as he did so. When it too came loose, her top was finally free. Her tender and white breasts waited for his hands, how could he resist? His large hands reached for both of the breasts, cupping them gently. They were warm, soft, and supple. He could feel his manhood grow firmer and firmer against the strain of his pants. Erik craned his neck downward, careful not to scratch her delicate skin with his mask, and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it gently then licked at it. This seemed to please her and she let out a satisfied moan. Thinking quickly, or hardly at all, he took the other nipple in his hand and played with it gently before giving it a tender lick. Christine sang out a high note of pleasure and frustration. He kissed down her stomach, her perfectly curved stomach, to the silk panties she was wearing around her womanhood. The thought of her womanhood in his mouth excited him so much he almost came on the thought alone, but he restrained himself.

Using his teeth he pulled off the silken barrier. Christine gave a soft buck beneath him. He breathed, his breath hot and moist, against her womanhood; she trembled beneath him. He could play her like any of his instruments, but he enjoyed her so much more. Without too much restraint, as he was really running out, he took her womanhood in his mouth and began to suck. His warm saliva and her juices mingled together in a sensual dance of pleasure. Christine felt tears in her eyes, it felt so good. Erik licked her up and down over and over; she gave another involuntary buck from underneath him.

"Erik…Angel…please…don't tease me too much longer."

Hearing her ask for him was a dream come true. Ever ready to please his one true love he unbuttoned and let loose his pants. His manhood stood stiff before her. Erik felt his face heat up in embarrassment, but he had nothing to fear. Christine kneeled down before him and took the head in her mouth. This time it was his turn to sing out with delight.

"When will the blood begin to race?"

She went down on him further and further, sucking ever so gently as she did so. The feeling of her hands, of her soft mouth, upon him was almost too much to bear. As he sighed once more, she stood and returned to the bed, never letting go of their eye contact. Her soft brown eyes burned with passion in the candlelight.

They lay on the bed side by side. Christine took Erik's hand and pulled him atop of her slowly. He gazed down at her, marveling at how wonderful it could feel to have another person's skin upon your own. Christine reached up for his face; he closed his eyes, ready for her to touch his lips or the ends of his hair. She did not do so. Instead, she removed his mask. Erik's eyes snapped open and looked down upon her, but they quickly soften to lipid pools of blue. She cast the mask aside and looked at him with adoration, cradling all of his face in her hands.

"I love you Erik."

For the first time in his life, he felt loved. With slow purposefulness he kissed her on her ear, licking and humming into it at the same time. She sang out happily and spread her legs for him. He gazed into her eyes and she smiled and nodded eagerly. Slowly, as to not hurt her, he slid into her. Christine tightened her features at first, then relaxed as he slid gently in and out of her rhythmically. She sighed and looked back up at his face.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," she sang to him.

He grabbed her hips softly and began to speed up his pace. They were one now; he was making love with his one and only Christine. It felt every bit as good as he had imagined it would. Christine wrapped her legs around him and gave a low moan. He closed his eyes and gave her quick kisses to her cheeks and neck, speeding up even further. They made a crescendo until at last the music faded away. Once more, lying side by side, they sang together:

"Anywhere you go, let me go too; that's all I ask of you…"