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He stepped into the room with confidence as he looked down upon a sleeping form.

His lips went into a smile, for his luck was finally changing. A woman had

purchased his opera house. His powers with men were only via fear and

blackmail. With a woman the possibilities were endless.



He was a master of seduction; he had almost had Christine... He thought of her

with a broken heart. He would not cry. She had all but denounced him in a

local paper. Her words had ripped his broken heart in many pieces.



He trembled remembering the words he had read.

"I am saddened by the loss of life that the opera claimed, but there was a

demon, a masterful one, and his words were poison. Luckily the truth is known.

I am glad it’s over and the Angel of Music is laid to rest with the

destruction of its playground.”



He was contemplating sending her a letter because he knew where she had fled.

He had thought better of it and did not. As he was thinking on her words, a

soft moan came from his left. His thoughts ceased as he realized he was not

alone.



She laid there wrapped in her small blanket, and he could see the outline of her

body with the light of a small candle that seemed to make her glow. Her bosom

was large and it moved while she took slow breaths. He took a deep breath and

leaned in closer to see her face. Her face was sweet and gentle. Her hair was

red and wild, and slightly tangled. Her eyes held long lashes and he longed to

see them open. Her cheeks had been dimpled, he noticed, as her lips formed a

smile in her sleep. The lips of this woman were undeniably made to be kissed.

His eyes traveled down to her bosom. Her breasts were large and round but firm.

She had a tiny waist but her hips were large. Her legs made up half her length,

and she was tall for a woman. Her light pink skin was intoxicating under the

light, and she bore slightly visible freckles across her shoulders.



Oh what a pleasure it would be to have this woman obey his wishes. He smiled at

her once more and thought to himself, Do I dare touch her? She shifted

slightly in her sleep and was upon her back. He put his gloved hand to his

mouth and gently bit the fingertips pulling the glove off. He reached for her

hair and moved it to rest away from her face. His massive hand lowered to her

cheek, and he hesitated for a second, before he put it upon the soft pink skin.

Touching her skin sent waves of a long awaited need through him.



He then traced her lips with his fingertip, and she let out a small moan of

pleasure. He stopped his touch and looked into her face; she was still asleep.

His mind was racing and his heart was pounding. Her response to his touch

almost drove him mad. He was half tempted to take her. He then cursed himself

as his hand slowly lowered to her chest and he stroked the top part of her

breasts. She moaned again. It was music to his ears. He imagined playing her

body and what music she could make should his fingers search out the hidden

areas of her person.



He stood before he wouldn't be able to remove himself. His need of a woman was

at its peek and he knew he could wait no longer if he remained by her side. If

he could cause such pleasure while she slept, he was sure of the pleasure he

could bring her while she was awake. He stepped to the mirror and pressed the

secret mechanism. It slid open and he disappeared in the darkness.