The Man Behind the Mask: The Sequel to Gaston Leroux's the Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 56: The Passion of the Souls

  *MAJOR WARNING THIS IS A SEX SCENE*

                Celine shivered under her husband's kisses. Erik was attacking her neck with his lips as they staggered into the room.
Her loved her.  They were married. She was his wife. He was her husband. A married couple. Such was the only thoughts she had drifting through her head, she was just so overjoyed to be his on paper and in mind and heart.

   Of course, she thought now as a lustful smile slid across her lips just as his hands slid down her waist, clenching around her hips and bring her back to his front, being his in the body aspect wasn't a bad idea either.
It did scare her though, and she could not deny it. And it was not her fear of him hurting her or of her losing that part of her - she trusted him with her everything - but the fear of his rejection at her imperfection.

   His passionate kisses thrilled her and provided evidence to his constant reassurances.
Words saying he would always love her no matter what. She felt just as much love as she did last while he touched her, but she still was afraid.

   However, her thoughts quickly turned in a different direction when she found them falling onto the bed. He hovered over her, a dark shadow in his wedding attire, his over coat falling open and shielding her with darkness as his arms encircled her.   Erik was mad with want, he wanted her with every emotion, he loved her with everything he had, and he was shocked to know she was his, she wanted him too, and that he was hers.
Another thought occurred.

Their lips met for brief moment before Erik dragged himself away from Celine's wanting mouth, eyes curtained by lids heavy with lust now opened widely with surprise and curiosity as the tall dark haired love of her life sauntered around the room like an lion in his domain.
"I think it may be a little too..." he paused by a candle sitting on the nightstand and glanced back at her, gold eyes clashing with hazel as a single puff from his lips extinguished the flame "Bright."
His silky, warm voice made a cold shiver rush up Celine's arched back as her normally pale complexion flushed bright red.
Her embarrassment seemed to fuel his cocky seductiveness' and he paused feet away from her, his over coat sliding to the floor, next his cravat, and finally his waist coat, leaving his nimble fingers to work at his poet's shirt.

Celine, deciding she had had enough of his game, sat up slowly, letting her already loose wedding dress sag on her shoulders, exposing her pale collarbone and the end of a scar poke from her corset.
"I guess it's just too..." she trailed off, standing now. They were still only feet apart but the distance seemed so very easy to cross as a smirk tugged at the corners of her pink lips. "...hot.''

"Is that so...?" came Erik's soothing voice, uncertainty passing between them.
Celine lost her words and her gaze shifted to the floor, confidence once gained now seemed lost like her body's grip on her clothes.
Noticing the change in her expression, Erik's playfulness faded into tenderness as he closed the space between them and embraced her, his hands cupping her face, eyes now look like they were about to overflow.
"Celi, dearest, no tears..." he kissed her forehead, "no fear tonight my love." his fingers tilted her chin ever so slightly so her gaze would meet his.
Celine looked up, a bit of her old indignance resurfacing "I wasn't-" she started, but he cut her off with a kiss, teeth ever so slightly pulling at her bottom lip as her eyelashes brushed against his cheeks when she closed them in the intimacy of the moment.
His hands brushed her shoulders, finishing off the already slipping dress and it fell around his wife's feet in a pool of white silk and ribbon.
His own shirt fell behind them as well as they kept their eyes focused on each other, not daring to look down at their own bodies colliding with one another as steps  backwards took the two lovers to the bed.

In the heat of the moment, Celine could feel something poke her as Erik's kissed became more sloppy, the need and lust filling the air making the pair intoxicated.
"Celine, Celine, Celine" Erik's voice rumbled, his hands wandering downwards as his lips trailed her neck.
"E-Erik...?" uncertainty filling her voice, but her words fell in moans as she felt him rub against her, warmth pressing into her underthings and he pressed into her.
"trust me... dearest I would never hurt you." Erik whispers, lips dangerously close to her ear, he had heard the uncertainty in her voice and his pace slowed like magic then stopped all together to look at her.
Her eyes were still shut tightly but once she opened them her expression softened.
"You do trust me, don't you?"
Celine's face twisted, almost wickedly, "O-Of course, what kind of-"
"Good" Erik interrupted again, "and I trust you."
Celine's eyes closed once more as he kissed her lips one last time for the moment and trailed his lips down her neck.
Careful teeth, careful lips, careful Erik, so very careful not to mark what was already marked, not to shatter Celine as if she were glass. It drove her crazy.
Gently he kissed her neck to her collarbone, stopping at her first scar, sliding her slip off her shoulders as her fingers found their way to his hair, locking themselves in his dark brown strands as he slipped the undergarment off her body and to the floor.
"Beautiful" he murmured between kisses, each one lower than the last. "holy... sacred... angelic."
He stop right before he reached her heat, a rope in her stomach wounding as his hot breath collided with her cool skin, and part of her impatience kicked in. Her legs wounded about his bare back, drawing him near as his hot mouth grazed her thighs.
"Erik... MMmm Erik!"
His pants tented and felt more desire in this moment now than ever before but he contained it as he pulled one slender leg over his shoulder after the other, kissing one and biting the other, each time eating up distance to her heat as her hands tugged and pulled at his hair.
All at once his mouth groped her wet oyster, tongue pushed against her pulsing heat and a moan filled the room, thoughtless, mindless, yet lustful.
It was Celine's.
Erik's pace moved fast, his tongue lashing against her most sensitive part and making her arch her back as gracefully as a swan.