Page 47 of Angel’s Flight (The Phantom Saga #4)

“I’ll decide that, my love,” Christine sighed and pulled him close to her, her back against his chest, a comforting solid heat. “I do still love you. Even when I’m mad at the world or even you. Love doesn’t turn on and off like that.”

Erik shut his eyes on tears – hoping he could hide the weakness, but she knew. That thought comforted him into sleep.

It was the cold, perhaps, that woke him.

The cold of Christine being gone from the bed.

Erik lingered a while at the edge of sleep, letting the rocking of the boat soothe him.

Finally, he cracked his eyes open enough to see that it was night outside, but Christine had lit a candle in a glass and was seated in the wooden chair next to the small brazier they had for heat.

She was half undressed, stripped down to her underthings with a shawl around her shoulders, its red color a contrast to the alabaster of her skin.

The candles lent a golden glow to the place.

Christine was golden too, the light warming her cheeks and catching in her auburn hair.

So beautiful and warm. Erik stood out like a stain. A shadow on the sun.

“How are you so beautiful, even now?” he found himself asking aloud.

Christine looked up and smiled, though it was a tired sort of look. “Flatterer.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Christine ordered, and Erik bit his lip. “It stops meaning something when you say it all the time.”

“Even when I need to?” Erik asked back, rising stiffly from the bed. He felt marginally more alive now with some rest, though his mind was still clouded with sorrows.

“What awful thing are you thinking right now?” Christine asked, and Erik couldn’t tell if she was sad for him or sad she had to go through such a discussion again.

“The same as the last day or so,” Erik shrugged. “That I brought this on us and I’ll bring more sorrow and pain on you and your friends.”

“Our friends,” Christine corrected. “Mine and yours.”

“Even after what they saw?” Erik met her eyes, feeling the heat on his bare face and fighting the urge to hide its ugliness, even now.

“You know very well that more people than me have seen what you look like and still cared for you,” Christine argued gently, coming towards him.

“The monster they saw was more than my appearance,” Erik whispered back. He pulled Christine to him, selfishly and indulgently, burying his face in her chest and savoring the softness. “You saw it too.”

“I did. And I saw how you stopped when I told you to,” Christine countered. Erik recalled that moment: the clarity her voice had given him. The peace he had been able to find, being hers to command. It felt so distant now.

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Erik said. “I should have behaved.”

“Violence is a terribly hard way of life to unlearn,” Christine said, calm and gentle and simple, as if it wasn’t one of the more profound bits of wisdom she had ever shared.

Erik looked up at her, at the compassion in her face that had driven away the sadness and disappointment. Or maybe he had imagined them.

“It’s also hard to unlearn the idea that I will always be hated, in the end. Always left,” Erik murmured back.

“Not by me,” Christine replied. “I’d chase you down if you tried.”

Erik let out a long breath, tension leaving his body, at last, as he made himself believe her, at least for now.

He let his cheek fall against the soft skin of her breasts again.

She smelled of the rain and faded lavender perfume.

Erik nuzzled the yielding skin, his lips forming a kiss almost of their own volition.

It felt good – for the first time in days, something felt good.

He kissed her again, and again, his mouth exploring the mounds of flesh bound by her corset, and it made her sigh.

It made her happy because it felt good to her too.

“Get this off me,” Christine murmured, just as Erik began to undo the front fastenings of the garment. He’d become adept at this in recent months, enough so that he freed her in no time before impatiently pulling her left breast from her chemise.

The boat swayed and groaned as he took her hard nipple and then more into his mouth, devouring as much of her as he could. He licked and sucked, savoring the taste and sensation of her skin against his lips and tongue.

“That’s good, yes,” Christine whispered as she knit her hands into his hair. Then yanked, pulling him away. “Now the other.”

Erik obeyed, lavishing the same attention on her other breast, his mind spinning with adoration and hunger. This he knew how to do right, this he wanted to keep more than anything. Even though he didn’t deserve this pleasure.

He pulled back, guilt hitting him like a wave as the boat rocked and jostled them. He had to make himself breathe slowly, and bring himself back. He could do this.

“What do you need?” came Christine’s voice, cutting through the storm.

Erik looked up at her, lost, unable to articulate through his shame that he needed her to see or deny him or...

“I see,” Christine said, a glint in her eye that made Erik’s dizzying thoughts slow. “Lay down, my love.”

Erik obeyed, struggling to take his place on the cabin bed as Christine undressed fully before him. She approached with clear purpose and unbuttoned his shirt, kissing him gently as she did. Soon enough, she had him bare, his belt in her hands.

The sound of the sea faded when she bound his arms above his head. The world softened. His mind stilled.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered and he did. He was at her mercy now, naked and hardening as she stroked him, utterly exposed.

He whimpered when she stopped but received no blow or admonition. Her absence from his side was punishment enough. He kept his eyes closed, ears straining to make out her movements, trying to sense where she was. He heard a clink, then felt heat as she returned. Warmer than before...

Searing, slicing, beautiful pain spread from his chest and he cried out in shock and pleasure, eyes flying open against his will. He looked up to see his Christine smiling, holding the candle she had taken from its holder, poised to drip more hot wax onto his skin.

“Don’t make too much noise. We don’t want to alarm the other passengers,” Christine said with a smirk. “Or must I gag you?”

“No, please,” Erik panted. He hated the idea of being denied the taste of her lips or any other part of her in any way. “I’ll be good.”

“You will,” Christine whispered, and it made his cock throb.

With another glorious, devious smile, she tipped the candle, and a stream of hot wax fell on his stomach, burning for an incandescent moment before easing into simple warmth.

Erik bit his lips to not cry out from pleasure or pain and earned a nod of approval for his efforts.

Another smile from his love – his lady and mistress and torturer – and more wax dripped onto him, this time on his nipple. The heat was a beautiful agony that made him writhe in his binding before it dissipated into bliss.

“You’re quite lovely like this,” Christine purred, and Erik didn’t fully understand.

He did understand what he felt though, the delicious touch of her lips to his skin, close to where the wax now cooled, then the scratch of her nails down his side.

He only realized his eyes were closed when he opened them to see her straddle his legs, candle poised and ready above his stomach – or his groin.

He waited, breathless as the heavenly creature who chose to pleasure and punish him nuzzled his dripping cock with her cheek.

Was that her next target? He didn’t care.

He would submit to anything for her. She tipped the candle and darted out her tongue at the same time, licking him from root to tip as wax dripped onto the juncture of his hips.

It was a herculean effort not to scream at the combination of sensations, but he did it.

He was panting now, lost in the mix of desire and hurt, encompassed by heat and care.

His vision swam, his heart raced, and yet, he found himself almost floating when she did it again, holding back both his voice and his climax for her.

He failed the third time, letting out a long moan as she stroked him, and more wax splashed on his skin, but she only laughed.

She was beautiful above him. So beautiful in her compassion and cruelty as the instrument of Erik’s repentance flickered in her hand.

She held it steady even as she maneuvered her body and his cock and began to sink on him, taking him in gradually as wax dripped on him in a steady, slow stream.

The heat on his skin and the heat of her around him was pure heaven. He was utterly lost.

“Don’t come,” Christine commanded as his body began to tense. He nodded weakly, forcing himself to breathe as she raised the candle to her lips and blew it out. “I need you first,” she sighed in the darkness as she began to ride him, unrelenting and savage as she chased her pleasure.

“Use me,” Erik moaned back. “Use me and make me good.”

“You are,” Christine whimpered, and he felt her hand between them, where they were joined, adding to her pleasure with frantic speed.

“You did so well. You’re so beautiful when you give in and obey.

You make me feel so strong and so—” Her voice cracked, body shuddering above him. “Fuck. I... fuck .”

He watched her in the shadows above him, throwing back her head in ecstasy as the climax took her. He had no choice but to follow, shaking and shuddering with her, his mind flying and his heart utterly full.