The Phantom's Shade

Chapter 8

[Warning: This chapter may or may not be mature, all depending on each reader's individual views.]

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He opened the door with his foot, and gently laid her down on his bed. The door closed by itself, and locked. It was Erik's turn to gaze at Celestine. Her curling, chocolate hair spread across the pillows, as her pale face nearly glowed. Anyone else would have seen a poor, young woman, malnourished and bone-tired. The Phantom saw the curve of her heart-shaped face, her pink, full lips, her eyelashes that trembled when she breathed. His fingers jerked forward and touched the side of her cheek. He was shaking; she was angelic to him. Even her name, Celestine, evoked a stirring in his heart.

At as his touch, she awoke, gasping. Celestine's first sight was his mask. Then his eyes. His alluring gaze roamed her face, and she grasped his hand.

"Erik... Please... No more of these spells." Her face was a deathly white, and she, previously like her eyelashes, was trembling. He looked down at their intertwined hands, then at her pleading expression. Erik took her hand, and lightly pressed his lips upon it. She smiled; he would agree, no?

"My dear, it is my nature." He dropped her hand and sat next to her on the side of the bed. His face was eerie, as the atmosphere matched. Erik's fingers were winding in her hair as she felt...It was indescribable. She was torn in half yet again. Wanting more, but also terrified. His fingers brushed the side of her cheek, sending a shudder through her. She took his wrist gently.

"Erik...I-" Celestine felt as if, as if she was on her dying breath. She wanted to live, experience all of life's wonders, and she uttered two words that would help her start. "Don't stop." His eyes widened as he dropped his hand. She chuckled. "The Phantom is surprised, I see."

Erik saw her as he did the first time; smart, satirical, cunning. It was all of his own qualities. For once, The Phantom of the Opera was staring at his better half. She got up slowly, seeming to float along the floor with grace. Celestine wanted Erik, she wanted the Phantom, she wanted the Angel of Music. She wanted his zest for music, his gentle feelings, but his crazed and powerful ones as well. His monstrous rage, yet delicate articulation. She wanted everything good, and bad about him. Just then, he did what he always wanted to do, simply to kiss a woman's lips. His mother always turned away from his hideous face, and Christine Daaé, O Christine, she was too fragile, too light, too pure. She did things if she was told, and out of fear. But here he was, alone with Celestine, who wasn't afraid of him. Celestine, who didn't draw back. Celestine, who was his. 

Erik was burning with passion and love. Her hands were on his collarbone, her head on his shoulder. He took off his suit, his shirt, undershirt, wanting their skins to meet. His roaming eyes stared at her a bit unnervingly as she slowly unraveled her dress with its long, silk ribbons. She caught his eye and playfully covered her near bare chest, only covered with a bit of lace, pink coloring in her cheeks. He moved closer and slowly pulled the silk from her grip, letting it slowly drop to the floor. They grabbed each other at the same time, falling back onto the bed. Celestine felt his arms, his strong, protective arms wrap around her. She was facing away from him, her back against his chest and stomach, as his lips started from just below her ear to the bottom of her neck. His hands slipped down her body, his fingers molding perfectly to the shape of her waist. She shivered, and he pulled away, fearful of hurting her. Celestine shook her head.

"Erik... Don't stop. Don't." Those four words rang around his head as he pressed his mouth on her skin again, making her gasp a little. She held tight to those arms around her.

I'm never letting go...

He was caressing her gently, his fingers playing with her hair, his mere presence redding her cheeks and skin even more. She stared at him, forever lost in his gaze, as she allowed their lips to touch again. Before Celestine could fully move in, Erik pressed closer, their mouths fitting together. Her fingers moved to his hair, feeling every strand, every lock. He took her shoulders and pressed even closer, making her lips part with his. Erik's mouth covered hers as they kissed, hard. Their limbs were tangled together, the bareness of their bodies feeling each other through the soft, thin sheets. She wasn't ashamed at all, revealing herself to him, and vice versa. That was all they wanted, in fact. Just to show themselves to each other with no covers to hide anything. The only sounds were the rustling of the blankets and an occasional slip of a moan. The heat was intensifying, leaving a tingling sensation on their exposed skin. There were fierce, hungry, moments where they exchanged nothing but pure emotions. Their hands were always on each other's skin, sometimes in a tight grip, sometimes just touching. It was suffocating, but beautiful. It was torture, but lovely. At once, they both pulled back, gasping, when the rising feeling from his chest burst out. Erik wanted more. He jumped up, suddenly, and started to redress again, shoving on his pants only. 

"Hurry, my dear Shade, hurry!" Startled, she barely had time to slip on her petticoat before he fit her hand into his as they raced down the steps together, like small children.