—Erik—

I had, without a doubt, just experienced the best moment of my miserable life.

All my dreams, all my hopes and fantasies paled in comparison as I replayed over and over in my mind what had transpired in the last hour, still trying to convince myself of every explicit detail's realness. How many times had I envisioned this moment—her beautiful, supple form snuggled up to my side as we basked in the aftermath of our love? It seemed unreal that all my hopes and fantasies were now somehow coming true, for all the trouble we'd both been through over the past few months. I never would've guessed yesterday that today we'd be together again. More than together, actually.

We became... lovers.

I shuddered with pleasure at the thought and its implications, almost choking as the back of my eyes began stinging and my vision became blurry. Through my hazy gaze I could still barely make out her sleeping form, her chest gently rising and falling with each delicate breath her body took in, and her face gently flushed pink from our love.

Could that really be a smile tugging on the corner of her mouth?

My heart couldn't help but swell with my undying love for her, and I became overcome with the urge to touch her. I extended my hand to her beautiful bare white shoulder, just barely peeking out from the coverlet and sparkling ever so slightly from the moonlight pouring in from the window and illuminating the flawless skin. My fingers tingled achingly as I drew nearer and nearer to her flesh, and suddenly, ever so hesitantly, I was touching it. Oh, how soft, how soft! How real!

She gave a soft sigh in her sleep and snuggled deeper into the coverlet, closer to me, as if drawn to my touch, and I couldn't help but reciprocate her action, my hand more sure and steady as I rubbed her shoulder soothingly. Her soft, creamy flesh was so delightful under my calloused fingers that I couldn't help but extend my caress to other parts of her body. My fingers brushed along her cheeks and her chin, even extending one hesitant finger to trace her parted lips, and I happily found the skin to be even softer than that on her arm. Her neck was small and delicate, the subtle curve enjoyable for a moment before I found play at the beautiful curvature of her collarbones, and I gently let my fingers trace that part of her body for a moment more before I suddenly stopped. My fingers ached to move farther down and gently peel down that unhappy black coverlet, but I wasn't sure if I should be allowed to expose her so entirely once more without her consent. I knew her intimately now, to be sure, but I was not her husband. I was not even her fiancé.

Her fiancé...

Oh, Christine, why do you play these games with me?

My hand shrank away from her form as I suddenly found her skin not so soft anymore. Though her supple body and all its secrets were mine now, her hand was not and never would be. No, no, she wasn't my Christine... she was his... she wore his ring, his promise of utter devotion and happiness. The promises she knew I could never give her.

Her wedding day... the reason she smiled in her sleep and what she was undoubtedly dreaming about... it was supposed to be tomorrow, and instead I had defiled her.

But did our act of love really change anything? What could it mean? Was she choosing me? Would she seriously choose her poor Erik over a handsome Vicomte? No, no—impossible! Impossible...

And yet it all seemed so different an hour ago, so clear...

Images of her body writhing under mine flashed through my head, and I felt my heart and lower body warm up again. She had to have felt something for me. Why else would she have come looking for me? And she certainly had given no indication that she had wanted me to stop when things had progressed.

Would she stop me now? I wondered errantly, eying the unhappy coverlet once again. Maybe she would, but what if she didn't? Would she scream at the monster on top of her, or would she willingly welcome him into her embrace? If she really did belong to me now, she would accept me, right? I was all too tempted to find out the answer to that question, and despite all the possible objections my mind conjured up to possibly stop my lecherous advances, my curiosity and desire far outshone all rational thoughts.

So, with my heart ablaze and my body trembling, my fingers knew no hesitation as I eagerly pulled down the bedsheets covering her form to expose her once more to my attentions. My heart pounded in my ears when I caught sight of her bare chest, the skin illuminated by the moon just as her shoulder had been. I cupped one breast's fullness in my hand, delighting in the warm supple skin with its fullness and relishing the nearly inaudible moan that escaped between her lips. I glanced at her face and found her still to be sleeping. Her eyes fluttered ever so slightly when I thumbed over her nipple, but still she slept.

Ever so gently, I kissed above her heart, feeling her steady and unaffected pulse as it beat against the skin of her upper chest. I let my lips drift lower with each kiss I bestowed on her until I was finally able to wrap my lips around the perky tip of her left breast. As I settled into a slow suckle, I distantly heard another soft moan somewhere above me, and then a gentle hand limply holding onto my head. I lifted my head to glance at her face expecting to meet golden eyes, but instead saw those closed ones again. Her breathing had quickened ever so slightly, but still was she unawake.

I gave her nipple one more brief kiss before lifting myself up again, my hands once again reaching for the coverlet that was now barely covering her hips. I sighed as I uncovered her bottom-half, my eyes roaming down her shapely legs and the dark patch of hair in-between, and I emphatically wished to be welcomed once more into the warm cradle of her thighs.

My manhood felt swelled and ready, and I was just about to spread her legs, when her eyes opened ever so slightly and I froze.

Her eyes widened when she noticed my uncompromising position, and she sat up ever so slightly to meet my petrified stare.

And she smiled!

I could've sworn I saw something akin to love in her eyes as she held my gaze, but in the next moment it was gone for her head had leaned back to rest against the pillows. A breathless sigh left her mouth and then from mine as well as she welcomed me between her legs of her own accord.

I tried to be gentle to make up for last night and to spare her from any resulting soreness, but the moment I felt her velvety, slick walls tighten around me, I couldn't hold back any longer and buried myself deep within her warm body.

I rocked into her with fierce desperation, begging for her to choose me, to say that she loved me, to say everything would be all right, but she said nothing. I rocked harder against her, trying to prompt her to say something—anything—but all I got was a helpless whimper. I buried myself even deeper, rolling my hips harder, but still nothing. I almost cried in a mix of desire and frustration when nothing seemed to work, and it wasn't long before I gave into her pleading groans and began to increase my tempo.

Her whimpers came louder and more frequent, tiny gasps tearing from her throat as our movements came more frantic, her hips rising to meet mine. Tiny hands clutched desperately at my arms and back, her nails digging into my skin and tracing old scars, holding me to her as if her life depended on it. And I wanted so badly to believe that she had chosen her poor Erik over her handsome Vicomte, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it.

Later, I found myself lying awake once again as she slept. As my languid and delirious body soon settled into a more stable and controlled state, I found it impossible to fall into sleep's welcoming embrace, and the longer I lay awake next to sweet, sleeping Christine, the more my thoughts began to wonder. I had been staring at my ceiling for a good two hours since our second round of passion that night, and despite how tired my body was, my mind had never been more awake. How could I sleep? How could she sleep? Was she not so horrified to have a monster in her bed?

I had not bothered to cover her up again after she fell asleep. And though her nude body was only inches from mine, uncovered by the unhappy coverlet this time, I could not bear to look upon her again. I was confused, terrified, guilty, lustful, and selfish, my mind not knowing which emotion to succumb to. Thoughts of her wedding with him floated through my mind at the same time images of our passionately rough joining flitted in front of my inner-eye, and I found myself completely and utterly confused.

She could not love me... she could not... no... not when she wore the Vicomte's engagement ring only three short weeks ago. Not when she had declared her love for him that night on the roof...

Moisture leaked unbidden from my eyes as I recalled that night in its every hauntingly real detail. No matter what she did with me, she would always belong to him. This night... what would it change? What would it prove? I'd expressed my love for her multiple times tonight, but never once had she promised her devotion back...

Oh, Christine... why? Why must you torture your poor Erik?

You fooled me once. Why wouldn't you fool me again?

Perhaps, this game of make-believe must end—once and for all.

Ironic, how this story was to end.

I stoically removed myself from the blackly-fitted bed. My feet felt like lead and my steps sounded quite clamorous as I treaded across the room. I reached for my pants and my shirt that lay strewn across the floor, and as I stoically put them on, I was careful to not let my eyes stray to Christine's form, for I was positive that if I did, all my resolve would fly out the window.

My hand wrapped around the doorknob of the bedroom door, about to turn it, when my heart suddenly pounded quite painfully against my thin chest.

I couldn't leave like this, not yet.

I listened: her deep breathing indicated that she was still asleep, and I stood there in the middle of the room for a good minute as I gathered my wits. With my heart in my throat, I slowly returned to the bedside where she slept peacefully. The moonlight had shifted and no longer shone on her brilliantly pale skin. Regardless, my well-trained eyes had no problem discerning every nuance of her form, and my heart skipped as I laid my eyes on her for possibly the last time.

Bending down so I was only mere inches from her form, "Goodbye, my love," was all I whispered before pressing a light kiss to her forehead.

I strode out the bedroom door quickly to hold down the tears, not stopping until I reached the foyer. I was surprised to find that this time hurt just as much as the first time we parted, and I prayed to whatever god that was out there that this would truly be the last, for I doubted that I could handle another heartbreak.

I placed my hand on the knob with a heavy heart, preparing myself to turn it for the final time.

Then, a tiny voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Erik?" came her sweet voice, and I froze momentarily before turning around.

My sweet Christine clutched the black comforter tightly around her shoulders as she stood in the doorframe of my bedroom, her eyes full of questions. Her eyes flickered from my face to my hand on the doorknob, then back again.

"Erik, where are you going?" she whispered across the dark room, her sleepy voice tinging with apprehension as her eyes beseeched my saddened ones.

I swallowed hard, wiping my face clean of the burning emotions churning inside me. "I didn't know you were awake." I said evenly, my hands tightly winding together behind my back.

Her face gave a faint flush as her eyes genuflected to the floor, and I induced that her mind could see something that mine could not. Her lips moved ever so slightly. "I—I was cold."

"I'm sorry," was all I said.

"Don't be," she said. "It's silly, really." She gave a meager laugh, but the breathy sound held no humor.

"There are blankets in the cabinet."

That was not the answer she appeared to want to hear, and she gave a quiet sigh. "I'd rather have you than a blanket." Her fine eyes bashfully lifted to mine with a small smile, and I hated myself even more in that moment, if that was possible.

"I'm not warm." I said stoically.

"I don't care," she easily replied.

"I'm not made out of fine silk."

"That doesn't matter. Please Erik, come back to bed." Her voice pleaded with me to return and it took all of my pathetic strength remaining to not comply. My eyes fastened on a crack in the wall as I collected my thoughts. She seemed to notice my distress and her feet shifted. "Or, is it because of what we…"

"No!" I cut her off angrily and I immediately regretted it as hurt flashed across her pretty face. But I could not let the subject drop now that she had brought it up so suddenly. "Don't you dare think that I regret it!"

She apologized softly and unfolded her arms as she walked to stand before me, stopping a few feet away. Her dainty hands pulled the heavy blanket tighter over her small shoulders. She met my gaze shyly and my own eyes couldn't help but soften at the gentle innocence in hers. My resolve was quickly fading away.

"Come back," she bid again after a moment of silence. Her fingers unraveled from the large blanket to gently tug on the arm at my side.

I smiled wryly, the gesture not quite reaching my eyes. "You know not of what you ask."

She looked confused at my words. "I don't understand. Why are you up, Erik?"

My mouth turned up ruefully. "It's nothing, Christine. Please go back to bed now."

"Are you certain?"

I said nothing for a good minute as I studied the cracks in the wall, and she seemed to grow more distressed at my hesitation.

"Erik, please! Talk to me, tell me what's bothering you..."

"I told you it's nothing!" I said it a bit harsher than I meant for it be, and I hated myself instantly when I saw more hurt flash across her countenance.

"Okay," she finally conceded. "I believe you. But… please just come back soon." A faint blush colored her cheeks at her next words. "And... I miss having something to snuggle up to."

Oh Lord, why! The irony! I choked on the words in my throat as I watched her slowly turn around to head back to my room, the comforter cradling her in a cocoon of cotton.

I clenched my fists as I watched her climb into my bed from my spot by the door. She removed the coverlet from her shoulders first, fluffing it out on the bed, and I saw with a jolt that she still had not dressed.

Damn her! Damn it all to hell!

And I knew that I could still leave, knew that I could forget about her betrayals once and for all and let her get happily married, but as I watched her snuggle contentedly into my large, black bed something seemed to happen inside of me, and my feet were suddenly carrying me back into the bedroom instead of out the door.

She saw my entry, smiling that smile again, and I couldn't help but smile back. Her arms opened to welcome me back into the bed, our limbs tangling effortlessly as we found comfort in each other's arms, her warm mixing and blending with my cold.

And though she had given me her body twice in one night, and though she now allowed me to curl around her body as we settled into a sweet slumber, my heart still yearned to hear those words that would tie her to me forever.

"I love you, Christine..." I whispered against her hair. I listened intently for any sort of reply, but realized with a heavy heart that she had already fallen asleep, and I contended myself with listening to her soft snores.

I traced her bare shoulder one last time before falling asleep.