Tremulous and Tender

BY : NataliaV
Category: M through R > Phantom of the Opera
Dragon prints: 7330
Disclaimer: I do not own The Phantom of the Opera movie(s), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Part: 10/? (or as I keep referring to it as... The Money Shot, haha!)
Summary, Disclaimer, Etc, can be found in chapter one.
Thanks: To Kelsey and Sarah for beta-ing.
Authors Note/Apology: This ISN’T the last chapter. There are about five more to go, I think. But I won’t be updating until I catch up on school work and complete my Spuffy Ficathon assignment. Sorry! I’m thinking the next part will be up around Valentine’s Day… a gift from me to you, yeah? ;)

“You belong to me,” Erik growled, still clutching Christine’s hair tightly.

“I do,” she whimpered. “Have I ever denied you?”

“You are not to see that boy again! Ever!”

“Erik,” she sobbed, trying to get him to release her hair with no avail. He was far stronger than she was, after all.

“You would disobey me, then?”

“You’re hurting me!”

“And I am not hurt?” He let go of her and paced the room. He was trying to control his anger, but he couldn’t. All he could see was the Vicomte de Chagny holding Christine and looking at her with love in his eyes… his perfect eyes and perfect face. “Did I not see your face light up at the sight of him, ‘Lotte’?”

“I have not seen Raoul in many years, Erik. Not since I was a child. So many years have passed.” Erik looked down at her tearstained face with a twinge of shame. “I love you, Erik. I could never love another as I do you.”

Erik softened at her words. He took the wrist that he’d so cruelly tugged on and kissed the faint bruising that formed already. He then lifted his hand and tentatively touched the skin exposed at the top of her dress, feeling the softness of her heaving chest.

“Prove yourself,” he whispered.

She shook physically, but answered with confidence. “I will do anything… anything.” She wiped her face free of tears.

He slid his hands around her back and began unbuttoning her dress. Madness, he was certain, was driving him to this course of action. He pushed the gown off her shoulders, watching it fall to the floor.

“It would do no one any good for you to faint now because you cannot breathe,” he tsked, noticing her breathing restricted by her tight corset. He moved around her, attempting to undo the laces before he lost his patience and ripped them.

He pulled her to his chest and kissed her neck lightly. She tasted of heaven. Tilting her head just so, he kissed her forcefully. The madness kept driving him.

Just as she started to turn in his arms to kiss him fully, he pulled away. The desire coursing through him was too much. He took a deep breath and willed his body to calm. He didn’t want to take her roughly.

Her eyes were glazed over and she brought a hand to her swollen lips. Erik sat on the edge of her bed. Her eyes widened at that.

“Come, Christine,” his voice thick with lust, “you swore to do anything to prove your love for me.”

“I did.” She nodded, moving to the bed. She stood in front of him, her hands shaking as she unbuttoned his coat and took it off. She threw it down atop her dress. She hesitated a moment after, then proceeded to unbutton his white shirt.

She pulled it from the waistband of his pants, but didn’t remove it. She looked at him nervously. “Erik, I…” she raised her hand to his face… to his mask.

His head jerked back. “Christine…” he said in a low, warning tone.

“If I am to be bare before you, it is only fair you are bare as well.” She gently pried the mask from his face, tossing it disdainfully to the ground. She looked back at him, smiling. “There.”

She caressed the ruined side of his face before taking his shirt off and tossing that as well. She ghosted her hands over his chest. She knelt down in front of him to remove his shoes, then sat back, too nervous to remove the final piece of clothing.

Erik motioned for her to stand. She did so, trembling. “Remove those.”

Christine’s eyes never left his as she stood to remove the few remaining pieces of clothing from her delicate frame. Fear was heavily present on her face as was the gentle quivering of her lips, but she remained calm otherwise.

Tears filled Erik’s eyes and a sense of wonder washed over him as she stood exposed before him. She was beauty defined. She was so close, all he had to do was stretch his arm and he could grip her soft, untouched flesh.

“I love you,” she shyly whispered.

He nodded, unable to respond verbally or tear his eyes from her glorious body. He was unsure of what to do now that they were so glaringly past the point of no return. His arousal burned at him. He’d never felt such exquisite pain. He’d been aroused and had exploded with blessed relief, but nothing, nothing compared to this feeling coursing its way through his body.

He took a shuddering breath before he pulled her to lie on the bed. She shifted nervously as he looked his fill of her. She turned her head, embarrassed. Erik smiled, taking her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

“You are truly perfect, Christine.” Her cheeks were red and there were unshed tears in her eyes. He pressed several kisses to her forehead, cheeks; to her nose and mouth.

He forced her mouth open under his insistent lips. Her breath was cool and sweet, mingling with his hot one. He tentatively slid his tongue out of his mouth and into hers, never having dared to kiss her so boldly in the past few days.

As their tongues danced in a delicious tango, he lifted his hands, softly running them over her creamy skin. He ran them over her neck, down her shoulders, skimming along the sides of her breasts, down her taut belly, across the soft curve of her hips and down her thighs to her knees and back up again.

She gasped a sweet sound when he kissed the hollow of her throat. He kissed back up her jaw and captured her lips. She wrapped her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. They both shuddered as his body pressed hers into the mattress, the only thing between them his trousers.

He feared he’d disappoint her as she began to ease and grow warm under his touch. He was as innocent as she in this. Well, that was not entirely true. He’d read of relations between men and women. He’d seen couplings many a time during his wanderings in the opera house.

He broke the kiss, surprised at her expression of anxious desire when he looked down at her. Cautiously he let his hands roam her body again, but slower. He was in awe as she arched into his touch.

He gently caressed her breasts. “Erik,” she whimpered as he rolled her nipples in his fingers. “You torture me.”

“That was not my intent.” He lowered his head, kissing the rosy peaks and laving his tongue over them.

She sighed heavily, holding his head as he suckled at her. Her heart beat furiously against her chest. He could feel the palpitations under his hands and mouth.

He slid his body over hers, settling himself between her thighs. Through his trousers he could feel the wetness of her core.

He lowered a shaking hand from her breast to unfasten his last bit of clothing. Christine released his hair and her hands careened down his back, tugging the waistband down his hips. He had to move from her to remove them completely.

She gasped, taking in his naked form with widely innocent eyes.

Guilt battled with Erik’s lust for her. She was offering herself to him. Yet, in a way he had forced her to this point. How could he do this? How could he fill her angelic body with his demon one; with his demon seed?

She laid there, flushed, arms open for him to rejoin her. Her skin glistened in the candlelight; a slight sheen of sweet coated her skin.

He shook his head. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He turned away from her, sitting once again on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands. He felt the bed shift behind him. Christine wrapped her arms around him and she pressed her cheek to his scarred back.

How could she bare touching him? He didn’t even like touching himself. He looked at himself but rarely, and yet she looked at him as though he were the handsomest creature, not the most hideous.

“What’s wrong?” He could hear confusion and rejection in her voice.

“Go,” he sighed. “Go to your boy. Leave me, Christine. Never return.”

Her tears scorched his back as they fell. “Are you mad? I love you. I give myself to you: heart, soul, mind,” she embraced him tighter, “and body. I would cease to live without you.”

“You deserve better than this… this loathsome carcass…”

“I would give anything to be able to go back in time and shelter you from all that you have suffered.” She pressed her lips to his shoulder. “But I cannot. All I can do now is love you. Let me, Erik. Please let me show you that you are not alone. Not anymore.”

She leaned across him to kiss the defect that was the right side of his face. “Love me, Erik. Love me…”

He drew her around, holding her in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, burying his face in the soft curls of her hair.


He wanted to learn every inch of her body. He wanted to feel the softness of her skin with his hands and lips; taste her with his tongue. He wanted to take her to heights of pleasure she’d never dreamt could exist.

Unfortunately all he could think of was the blinding need to join his flesh with hers. Dear, sweet, wonderful thing his beloved was, she seemed to understand that.

She lay under him, her arms around his shoulders and her legs on either side of his body. She would whimper and thrust herself against him every time his hard length came into contact with her sex.

Her nails bit into the skin of his back as his hand brushed against her wet opening. He idly wondered if that would scar. They’d certainly be the only welcome scars on his body!

He gripped himself, shutting his eyes at the brief relief holding the hot, throbbing skin brought. He let instinct guide him as he moved to her center. Liquid seeped from her, dripping onto the finger he gently prodded her with.

Kissing her, he slid inside slowly. She was tense and so tiny to begin with, entrance was very difficult. There was so much resistance, Erik worried some. He knew men and women had been procreating for thousands of years, but she was so small. He hadn’t even begun to put his length in her, just the tip. How would he get it all in without hurting her?

Well, he knew it would hurt. There was no avoiding that. She was a virgin. Their first coupling would bring her pain and probably no pleasure. He’d read of the hymen and how painful it would be for the woman after it tore. But he had hoped to keep the pain to a minimum.

The soft, wet flesh of her insides gripped him tightly every agonizing inch he pushed into her. He broke their kiss to look down at her. Her eyes were wide and she was panting.

When he hit her barrier, she flinched. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his forehead to hers. “I… this will hurt.”

“I know… it will be fine.” She looked into his eyes bravely, pushing her hips up to slap against his, effectively ending her virginity in one quick thrust.

The pain made her whole body tense and her muscles clamped hard around him. She let out a sharp, startled cry. He groaned, falling against her. He dared not move, fearing it would bring her more hurt. And… the warmth that encompassed him shook him deeply. The fire that had started in his belly seemed to move throughout his blood, making him tingle with anticipation.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she struggled to adjust and relax. She moved under him, bringing him glorious pain, but still he would not move until she gave him leave to. He briefly considered hypnotizing her so she would forget the pain, but she would most likely be angry if she found out.

All the passion that had been in her eyes earlier was gone and she would not stop crying. Oh, what a beast he was! It must have hurt her terribly and all he could think of was his selfish need. He hadn’t even given her pleasure before hand.

“Forgive me.” His own ardor had cooled and he started to pull out of her, carefully making certain to not hurt her any further. He was nothing but a monster that brought pain and misery to those he cared for; his mother, the Daroga and now his little songbird.

“Don’t!” She cried, tentatively wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him back in. “Please, Erik. I was… shocked. I hardly knew what to expect. The pain is subsiding. Don’t leave.” She grabbed at his hair, drawing his head down to kiss him.

He allowed his body to press against hers again as he returned her kiss. He shut his eyes, relishing the feel of her hot, inner walls fluttering ever so slightly against him with each move she made. Her ankles were locked behind him, her little dancer’s feet pressing against his rear.

“Oh, Christine,” he groaned, moving his hips and pulling out before pressing back against her. Her eyes rounded as he rotated his groin against hers.

He laid his head in the crook of her neck as he slowly moved within her. He could tell he wasn’t going to last long. He could feel himself tighten with the most heavenly tension as her juices escaped from where they joined to dribble down their tights and onto the sheets.

She gripped him tightly as her voice began to rise from gasps of pain to heady, low moans of need. He grinned. His soprano could hit a lower range than he imagined after all!

Their voices mingled together, bouncing off the walls; his grunts and her cries of his name. He thrust faster and quicker in her, feeling his release would come soon… he only hoped to take her with him.

He thrust a handful of times more before he felt her clench and let out a long cry. He followed suddenly, his seed spilling into her. He continued to move shallowly as he emptied years of yearning into her before he collapsed atop her, spent.

He sighed, wanting to cry and laugh all at once. “I love you… Christine… I love you.”

Review Responses:

Alls well, yes? He could tell… but he’s very temperamental. Our boy needs to learn how to not jump to conclusions.

Sorry! It couldn’t be helped. Damn muses. But it’s all better now. :)

*winks* Yes! I did do that on purpose! Muwhahahahahaha…. But I promise Raoul won’t be much of a problem.

*does the dance of evil happiness* As I always say to my teachers… better late than never, right? So you get smut a chapter late. And I’m sorry, but Raoul won’t die. Someone else might, though… hehehehe.

I’m glad you like it! *Smiles* wouldn’t it have been nice if it had happened my way. Tehe. She won’t stay upset… but… he is the Opera Ghost and has a reputation to protect. Good thing Christine is very much blindly n love with him.

Yep. Smut now. Smut prolly in the next chapter. Once I get going with the smut… I’m hard pressed to stop. *gives the most angelic, innocent look*

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