Temper

Erik crumpled the paper in his hands and tossed it across the room, cursing under his breath. Damn Christine and damn his temper! How the hell was he supposed to react when he comes in seeing his wife kissing another man? Of course he was going to lose his temper! And how dare she only blame him. If she had not been kissing Chagny he would not have lost his temper and hit both of them!

But he did regret hitting Christine. No matter what she had done she did not deserve to be hit like that. He had never hit a woman before and he swore to God that he was never going to do so again. It had been a mistake that he was not going to make twice. That he would apologize for to Christine when he saw her, but he refused to apologize for nearly beating Chagny senseless. The man had known very well that Christine already belonged to someone else and if Erik had him near he would finish what he had started.

And Anthony would pay for taking away his wife. That was an insult he did not take lightly. But at the moment he was stuck where he was because he was far to weak to make any long journeys. But when he saw Christine he would tell her what he had on his mind, some of which he was sure she was not going to like.His hands glided over bare skin glowing from the candlelight. Hard, solid muscle pressed against satin smooth curves. The only sounds that filled the room were soft moans and harsh breathing. Her breasts rose and fell with her labored breathing and her mouth was moist and swollen from his demanding kisses.

His teeth pulled her sweat dampened skin against his mouth, leaving a blooming red mark meant to brand her as his. She moaned and arched her back against him, wanting more. His hands held hers pinned to either side of her head as his mouth moved lower, sucking on the flesh of her collarbone. She wrapped one slender leg around his waist and slowly moved her foot up and down the back of his long leg.

A moan of pure tortured pleasure erupted from her mouth as he gently pulled one firm breast into his mouth. Her arms struggled to be let free and when he finally released her impatient hands went into his hair, tugging him closer against her quivering flesh.

Becoming impatient with his teasing she pushed against him, managing to push him onto his back so she could pin him down with her much smaller frame. He grinned up at her, his eyes holding a very mischievous glint. She smiled back and kissed him, her tongue starting an erotic tango with his own, causing him to groan.

Large hands reached up to cup her breasts, squeezing and kneading them until she moaned his name in pleasure...

"Erik..."

Christine woke up with a cry, her entire body quivering in desire. She looked down at the other side of the bed, half expecting Erik to be there. That dream had felt so real! But her room was empty and dark and she was the only one there.

With a loud sob she laid back down and buried her face in the pillow. What was wrong with her? She should despise Erik for treating her the way he had and yet this was the fourteenth dream she had had in two weeks , one every night about Erik. Some were extremely explicit, with them actually rolling about in the tangled sheets, his body buried deeply within hers as they made love. Other times it would be like this, erotic foreplay.

Surely she had to be sick to be thinking of him like this? But no matter how hard she tried to keep him off her mind he always managed to sneak back in and it was slowly driving her mad.

Her brother had done everything in his power to make her happy while she was with him, taking her all over Rome to see the many things she had always dreamed of seeing but her thoughts continued to roam to her masked husband.

Raoul had approached her only once, and that was to apologize for kissing her when it had not been his right. His face had been a mass of purple bruises and she had accepted his apology. He was not the one who should be sorry. She had been the one to kiss him, he had only reacted. It was her fault and she had been blaming Erik. It was her fault he had lost his temper, no one elses.

She had tried going to church and confessing her sins but she still felt guilty afterwards, no matter what the priest told her to the contrary. Christine did not even know if he was alright. What if his wound had become more serious because of his fight with Raoul and herself? What if he never woke up?

She knew she was exaggerating but she could not seem to help it. Everything Christine and Erik had done since the beginning of their marriage had been shoving them in the wrong direction. They had both made choices she knew they would regret and there was nothing they could do about them. The past was the past. Nothing was going to change that.

"So many tears, angel," a voice whispered. She gasped and looked wildly about the room; not having heard anyone come in.

"Who is there?" she cried softly, fresh tears falling from her eyes. Was it someone else who had been sent to kill her for being involved with Erik and whatever he had done to make this invisible enemy angry?

"You need someone who can protect you," the voice answered, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Please..." she whispered, frightened. She pressed her face back into the pillow, praying to God that whoever this was did not hurt her.

"Shhh, no more tears, spit-fire, the black knight is here," Erik murmured against the shell of her ear. Christine gasped and turned her face towards his, unable to see him in the darkness but able to feel him near. What was he doing there? How had he gotten in? And more importantly, what were his intentions?

She felt his elegant, strong fingers reach out and gently wipe the tears from her cheeks and she winced in pain when he touched her still tender bruise. He was being so tender to her she was not sure that she was not still dreaming.

"Erik-"

"Shhh, I know...no talking, Christine...just let me hold you," he pleaded softly. Christine stiffened only slightly when she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her and pull her close. This was all she needed, someone who would hold her, someone who would protect her. And that was why she allowed him to hold her after what he had done.