The Point of No Return- COMPLETE

Chapter Three


Father Pierre hummed to himself softly as he lit the candles along the alter. His aging voice echoed in the church, giving him a sense of solitude. His robes swished around his feet as he walked. With each candle, he made the sign of the cross over his heart, as he whispered “Amen”. It was late and he would be retiring soon. Yet it didn’t stop him from offering a few kind words to the souls that had gone before him.

“Father.”

Father Pierre turned quickly at the voice. There was no one in the small dark church upon first glance. “Yes? Who is there?” The priest’s thick French accent echoed back to him as he continued to look.

“It is the fallen angel.”

“Erik?” Father Pierre asked in part surprise and part glee. He took a step down from the alter. “Where are you my son?” He began to walk down through the aisle.

Suddenly there was a whish of sound as Erik presented himself to the priest. As his eyes took in Father Pierre, a small smile crossed his lips. The priest was a small stature man with a balding head and flashing dark eyes. He wore the black robes of his faith. Just when he thought God had abandoned him, he sent Erik Father Pierre. Introduced by Madame Giry, the good priest was the one who directed him into a world of music. Father Pierre helped design a more comfortable mask after seeing Erik’s face by accident during a visit. Not judging the young man in front of him based on his appearance, Father Pierre instead took the troubled soul under his wing. The last time he saw the priest was just after he had laid eyes on Christine for the first time. “I am here.”

Father Pierre gave him a gentle smile as he saw Erik come forth. “It has been a long time.”

It was as if he were standing in front of a scolding parent. Erik smiled softly as he nodded. “It has. For that I apologize.”

“I trust you have kept busy?” There was amusement in Father Pierre’s voice.

“Oh but I have. My protégé has kept me very busy.” Erik answered with equal amusement.

“Protégé? Ah yes the young girl. I trust she is doing well at the Opera house?” Father Pierre asked as he moved closer to Erik.

“You have heard then?” Erik asked as he sighed heavily.

“Yes my son. It is the talk of the town. Tell me, are you safe where you are?” Father Pierre questioned.

Reaching the good priest, Erik smiled down at him. “We are safe.”

“We?”

“Christine and I are surviving.” Erik nodded. “We will return to my lair when it is safe.”

“You have taken her?” Father Pierre asked in shock. “But I have heard she is to marry the Vicompte de Chagny?”

“She is my soul mate.” Erik found himself whispering in the serene setting of the church. “She is mine, Father. Make no mistake.”

Father Pierre was taken back by the tone of possessiveness in Erik’s voice. He could see the love for the woman in Erik’s eyes. “Do you love her, my son?”

“More than anything.” Erik whispered. He wasn’t afraid to let his guard down around the aging priest. For it was Father Pierre that saw him for who he truly was. “She is not only my love but my muse.”

Father Pierre smiled as he clasped his hands together. “This is good, Erik. But it is dangerous keeping this young woman so close to you in these times. People will talk.”

“Let them talk!” Erik raised his voice. His fists clenched inside the black leather gloves he wore. “She is mine and I refuse to let her go.”

“Does she love you?” It was a question that Father Pierre knew he had to ask. The thought of Erik holding this woman against her will was more than he could comprehend, yet he had to ask.

A small, almost shy, smile passed over Erik’s face. “She calls me her Angel and her love.” There was a hint of excitement to his voice.

Father Pierre cackled as he patted Erik’s shoulder. “That is good my son, very good.” He gently squeezed Erik’s shoulder. “What about marriage my son?”

That question took Erik completely by surprise. He had always wanted Christine with him forever. However, would she marry him? Would her love for him be enough to agree to become his wife? He was just thankful he was not alone anymore. To think of the possibility that Christine could become his wife was too much to think about now. “I do not know Father.”

“You do plan on marrying her don’t you?” Father Pierre asked confused. “What about her honor?”

Erik let out the breath he had been holding. “If she will have me.” He knew the good father needed an answer.

“When you are ready, you come to me. I’ll marry you.” Father Pierre smiled gently.

“I must get back to her. I left her alone and she must be frightened by now.” Erik turned to walk out.

“Erik, do not stay away so long this time.” Father Pierre gently chastised. “I have missed our talks.”

Erik smiled at the priest. “I shall not stay away this time. Goodnight Father.” He opened the church’s heavy wooden doors.

“Goodnight Erik. God be with you.” Father Pierre whispered. He watched as the young man walked silently out of the church. Sighing heavily, he folded his hands and prayed for the tortured soul of the man known as the Phantom of the Opera.

* * * * * *

Christine stood in front of the full-length mirror she had uncovered. It was dusty from its years of non-service and the glass was scratched in some places. She stared into the mirror at her reflection. She didn’t know if it was just her or the mirror but she felt older all of a sudden, more mature. Reaching for hairpins, she ran her fingers through her dark curls as she pinned them up on her head. She ran her hands down over the robe she wore. Earlier she had discovered a trunk filled with old costumes. Going through it, she found several that would fit her. Right now, she wore a faded crimson silk robe that hung off her shoulders, with a dipping low bodice. The sleeves came down to sweep back from her arms. The skirt of the robe was slit so it gave a glimpse of her stocking covered thigh. The robe had gold designs on it that glimmered in the subtle light. Posing in front of the mirror, she imagined herself the diva of the opera. She smiled as she ran her fingers lightly over her throat and down her body. Then she slowly began to lose her smile. “There is no opera for me to be the diva of.” She whispered to herself.

“Have faith little one.” A soft voice whispered in her ear.

Christine’s eyes shot up to the mirror. Erik was standing there behind her. Brown met green as they locked eyes in the glass. There was something deep in his eyes. She didn’t know what it was only that it caused her to shiver. He had taken off his heavy cloak and gloves. Now he only wore the white linen shirt. She tried to breathe as her eyes took in the way the shirt made a large V, giving her a glimpse of the broad muscles underneath as it strained over his upper body, almost hugging it. He still wore the white mask, one eye staring out at her from behind its masquerade. She gasped as she felt him wrap his arms around her as he pulled her back against him. She let her head fall back as she whispered. “You have returned.”

Erik kept his eyes on her through the mirror as one hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. The other hand he moved down to take her’s. Their fingers intertwined as he raised her arm to wrap around his neck, pausing briefly to caress his cheek. Then he moved her arm up around his neck. He fought a moan as her fingers delved into the hairs at the nape of his neck. He slid his hand down her arm and around her front to brush over her breast. He nuzzled against her neck, his lips dragging over the soft skin in tiny kisses.

She moaned as she felt the soft wetness of the tip of his tongue circle around her pulse. Christine began to close her eyes when Erik’s grip tightened on her. “No my Christine. Open your eyes for me. I want you to see this…see us.” He whispered in her ear. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened up her eyes again. “Very good little one.”

Looking in the mirror Christine found herself blushing as Erik slid his hands into the neckline of her robe. Erik found himself biting back a moan as his rough hands encountered the soft bare flesh of her breasts. He had to touch her. She was beauty in his eyes. His fingers gently slid over her breasts to cup them in his hands. He smiled against her neck when he heard the moan that escaped her lips. His thumbs gently scraped over the hardened peaks that were her nipples. A bolt of pure pleasure washed over her as her knees nearly gave way.

Erik suckled on her earlobe as he reached down and slid his hand beneath the folds of her robe. He cupped between her legs in an effort to hold her against him. He found himself hissing when he discovered that she was nude under the crimson satin. He felt her clench her legs around his hand. Breathing in her ear, he whispered. “Open up for me Christine. Let me do this for you. Let me give you the pleasure of my love.” His breath was hot against the sensitive skin of her ear.

His words were hypnotizing as she began to loosen up. Christine began to open up her legs for him. All of a sudden, she felt his thumb brush against her, causing her to arch against his hand. Her body was on fire and Erik was providing the flame. With one hand on her breast and the other between her legs, she knew he was killing her softly with pleasure. “Erik…”

“Yes my love?” Erik whispered huskily as he slid a finger along her length. He found himself growing harder inside his trousers. He hardened immediately when he walked into the hidden chamber, seeing her in that robe. However now he was straining, almost painfully, against the wool of his trousers. Moving his finger just barely inside of her he found himself growling as he felt how wet she was against his hand. “Do you know how I love touching you?”

Christine moaned as she looked at him in the mirror. Suddenly something wasn’t right. She was here with Erik but then again she wasn’t. Reaching up she cupped the white mask he wore. Looking deep into his eyes through the mirror, she slowly peeled the mask from his face. Hearing Erik utter a small gasp behind her, Christine dropped the mask on the trunk. She then lifted her hand up and caressed his scars. “This is the man I fell in love with.” She whispered.

That was all Erik needed to hear. Growling low in his throat, he slid his fingers deep inside her. Christine cried out at the pleasurable intrusion. Erik waited a few moments for her body to adjust to his fingers. When her hips began to arch instinctively against his hand, he smiled. Moving his mouth on her neck, he began to move his fingers. Using her own wetness, he pumped them in and out as his thumb brushed against her. He nibbled on the gentle curve between her neck and her shoulder.

Christine never knew pleasure like this. She was trying to hold onto Erik but he was making it difficult with the pleasure he was giving her. Chewing on her lower lip, she felt something building deep within her body. The faster Erik moved his fingers, the more intense it grew. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could last.

Erik pulled his fingers out only to drive them back in harder, being careful not to hurt her. His thumb was now moving in slow circles around her clitoris. By now, she was so aroused that her eyes had closed again. “Christine, my sweet Christine open your eyes. I need you to watch what we are doing. You are close and I need you to watch.”

Obeying him, Christine opened up her eyes slowly. She could see the way his eyes had darkened with arousal. He stared at her with almost an animalistic intensity. Staring at her in the mirror, Erik spoke. His voice was deep and husky as he let the words flow from his lips. “Give yourself to me Christine. Let go my Angel. Let go.” The last two words were spoken on a whisper.

Before she could utter a single syllable, his fingers moved deeper inside her. It was then her body took over. Crying out softly Christine felt her body let go as her knees buckled. Pure pleasure raced over her touching every nerve in her body. Erik’s fingers only kept her up as they continued to move throughout her orgasm. She took his free hand and squeezed as she was caught in the throw of the pleasure he was giving her. Her body began to tremble but Erik was there for her. When it was all over, she slumped against Erik.

He let his fingers slide out of her as he wrapped both arms around her. She had closed her eyes and her chest was rising and falling with each breath. He smirked as he watched her in the mirror. He stroked her cheek as he kissed her cheek softly. “My sweet Angel.”

Christine slowly opened her eyes and looked at Erik in the mirror. A blush stained her cheeks. What had just happened? How could she have lost control like that? What must Erik think of her? “I am sorry.” She lowered her head.

Turning her around in his arms, Erik slid his fingers under her chin. He lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. “There is no reason to be sorry. Do not feel any shame.” He gave her a gentle smile as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

“What did you mean when you said have faith?” Christine asked as she slid her hands along his chest. She slid them up to wrap around his neck. Her eyes lifted to look into his. “Erik the Opera is ruined.”

His gentle laugh warmed her skin as he pulled her tighter against him. “Then we will fix it up. We shall make it grander than ever, my Christine.” He lowered his head and kissed her softly. “You will be the Lady of the Opera, Christine. You and only you will star in the operas I shall write.”

She looked up shocked at his words. “But the Opera is still owned by Monsieurs Andre and Firmin.” Christine was trying to make sense of what Erik was telling her.

“Not for long.” Erik’s lips twitched into a smirk.

“What do you mean?” Christine asked in shock.

“What I mean my love is that I shall own Opera Populaire soon. Then we will have our own kingdom of music with you as it’s Queen.”

“How?” Christine swallowed hard as she stared at him.

“I am going to buy the Opera from those two bumbling fools.”