The Phantom of Valletta

by Vicki Hopkins

  Désirée gave back to him the same and drank in her first taste of the man she loved, not the lustful monster that had twice tried to take her for his sole satisfaction. He opened his heart, and Désirée knew that she held in her hands a precious gift.

  As they continued their tenderness together, his kisses deepened and intensified. The fire of desire ignited in her body until she ached for release. She felt Erik respond to the heated chemistry, and she threw all caution to the wind.

  She stood before him and began to unbutton his black velvet vest, but after the first button fell loose and slipped through the buttonhole, Erik grabbed her hand.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please.”

  Her blue eyes met his anxious gaze, and Erik relented, releasing her hand while he watched her proceed with each subsequent button. She slipped her hands underneath his suit coat and shoved both the vest and jacket off his shoulders until they slipped down his arms and fell to the floor.

  She eyed his white ruffled shirt, and then Désirée molded her lips to his mouth sensuously kissing him until he moaned in anticipation. Her fingers played with the buttons on his shirt. One by one, they released until she could feel his exposed flesh. She shoved the shirt over his shoulders and pulled it down his arms until he stood free of its restraint. When she saw the taut lines of his toned body, it sent shivers of desire coursing through her blood like fire.

  Désirée, unbeknown to Erik, had lost her virginity. Her former fiancé, who could not wait until their wedding night, had deflowered her long before the accident devoured her beauty. She feared once she exposed herself, that Erik would recoil from her in the same way. At that moment, she knew when she gazed into his eyes with desire, they had to be on common ground.

  “Take your mask and hairpiece off,” she begged. “I shall not allow you to look upon my scars and make love to me unless I can look upon your deformity.” She lifted her hand to the corner of his mask, and he quickly grasped her wrist.

  “Are you sure, Désirée?”

  “I love you, Erik. All of you. I only wish the same in return, but I cannot give you my body wholly in love unless you give your body to me.”

  Erik released her hand, and she slowly removed his mask and hairpiece revealing the true man underneath. His half-face appeared no worse than her half-body. She placed his mask and hair on the table and then returned to embrace him. “Make love to me, Erik,” she said with a commanding tone.

  He scooped her up in his arms, carried her into his bedchamber with long determined strides, and set her upright before him. Her passionate desire pulled him against her breasts, and Désirée led Erik on the journey she knew he had dreamed of his entire life.

  * * *

  Erik’s denial ended. He had waited for what seemed like an eternity to feel the thrust of his body enter a woman. He would not turn back now. There remained no doubt in his mind that Désirée had captured his desire in every way imaginable. She allowed him to bare himself before her to the deepest core, as long as he was willing to accept her on equal grounds. The choice, Erik discovered, had been an easy one.

  Désirée continued to play with his flesh, and he had no doubts she had already experienced the pleasures that awaited him. At that point, morality did not exist. He needed a proficient teacher and who better than his heart’s desire to take him toward the ultimate satisfaction and undiscovered place of sexual bliss. His hand upon his body and his imagination for release would not be needed. Now, he would taste it for real.

  In like manner, he began to unbutton the bodice of her dress while she fiddled with his trousers. They acted like two heated animals that couldn’t devour each other fast enough. It wasn’t long before he had pulled her dress over her shoulders and let it pool at her feet. With each breathless kiss they exchanged, Erik’s arousal increased tenfold.

  Finally, after their ceremonial uncloaking, Erik felt every inch of her flesh with his palms. The smoothness of her breasts and the toying of her nipples brought heated surges coursing through his veins. At first, he enjoyed the untouched and unscarred portions of her lovely curvaceous frame and curiously eyed everything that made her a woman.

  “You are so beautiful, Désirée. He wanted all of her to be beautiful, and he was determined to see her as such.

  “Turn around,” he told her tenderly. She obeyed, but he felt the slight trembling of her body over the thought of what he was about to see. He examined the burn scars that weaved an ugly pattern of pain and sorrow across her torso. With his fingertips, he touched the edges. “Does it hurt?” he asked, afraid of what she would say.

  “No, Erik, there is no more pain. It only feels coarse and tight, not like my skin that is soft and supple.”

  “I’m so sorry, Désirée. So sorry.” He lowered his lips and began kissing her back. She flinched at first, and then softly sobbed in response while he accepted and loved every part of her body. “Don’t cry,” he begged. “You are still beautiful to me.”

  When he finished embracing her scars, he turned her around, lifted her up, and took her to the bed as she clung tightly around his neck, burying her head in his shoulder.

  Erik stood naked before her, unashamed for the first time in his entire life. No mask covered his face, no hairpiece covered the lack of strands, and no feeling of rejection came from her gaze. In response, she held out her arms lovingly.

  “Come to me, Erik, and let me love you.”

  He gently lowered himself on top of her body and their lips met. The sensation of warm flesh against his own surged through his body, fueling his desire. He readied himself to play music of love. Before Erik thought otherwise, he slid himself into the warmth of her body with a quick thrust and felt the glorious oneness with a woman.

  Désirée encouraged every rhythmic movement, and like a perfect musical score, they moved in heated unison and desire until at last, Erik released the grunts of a satisfied man. She responded in like manner, clutching his back tightly grazing her fingertips into his flesh with a satisfied cry of her own. He wondered what she felt to make her writhe with such a glorious response that was pure music to his ears.

  When they finished, Erik could not stop kissing the desire of his life and telling her repeatedly of his love. Finally, he had become a man accepted wholly by a woman. Nothing could take away the bliss he felt at that moment of his completion. He rolled to his side and cradled Désirée in his arms.

  “Did you enjoy it?” she asked, sheepishly.

  Erik smiled. “It’s difficult to put into words,” he admitted. He stumbled over his thoughts, trying to grasp the right phrase. “Immensely,” he finally breathed, leaning over to kiss her again. “For the first time in my life, Désirée, I feel whole. The monster has died.”

  She chuckled. “A perfect pair of half-bodies blended together to make one.”

  “That’s right,” he pondered. “All my life I’ve sought for beauty to compensate for my ugliness. But I never understood true beauty, Désirée, until you came into my life.”

  Her flesh pressed against his body, and he held the warmth closely, letting each pore encapsulate the essence of the woman in his arms.

  “I will never let you go now,” he warned her with a stern and determined voice. He had found a new obsession to replace the old; the obsession of expressing love through sexual means. Désirée had succeeded in drugging him with the most potent of aphrodisiacs, and he embraced the new addiction willingly, already contemplating the next time they might share flesh.

  “I don’t wish you to let me go, Erik.” Her arms tightened around his body, giving him the encouragement that she wished for the same. “I’m your captive woman in every way…forever.”

  “Good,” he told her, rolling her underneath him one more time to feel the rush of his body pressing against her. “I’m not ready to let you leave my bed, either” he added, a wicked grin curling his lips. Erik knew she looked back into his eyes, his ugliness greeting her in return. He had never felt such joy of total acceptance
as she clamped her arms around his neck and brought him forcefully back to her lips. This time, her tongue thrust into his mouth searching out the treasure, and he responded willingly in return. Erik did not care if he ever came up for air again, as he slipped his fingers into her wet body and fondled the treasure of her womanhood.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Désirée returned to her room to do as Erik commanded. She would no longer stay within the small four walls of one bedroom; she would live with him in his private quarters and no longer work or labor in the opera house. Her life belonged to him now, even though Erik made no mention of marriage. At that point, she did not care. She only knew that they had accepted each other with their flaws and had solidified their relationship with the most glorious intimacy she had ever known. His powerful thrusts into her body had consumed her, and she hungered to be taken by his powerful demeanor at his every whim.

  He seemed to have changed. His harshness disappeared and the anger dissipated. Forgiveness exchanged freely between them, and the bitter roots they had harbored died unfed. Whatever lay ahead, Désirée willingly accepted, as her heart wove its brokenness into his own, making them one on every level.

  She quickly emptied her room of her meager belongings and closed the panel behind her to stay with him. Like two crazed lovers, neither could keep their hands from one another, as they continued to explore each other in a new awareness and freedom.

  Désirée knew that once discovered missing and derelict in her housekeeping duties, inquiries would come knocking on his door. Erik did not attempt to tell Andrea or Richard about their arrangement, wishing to wait until they inquired. It did not take long, when the next morning Andrea stood outside asking for entrance.

  “Let me handle this,” he told her.

  He opened the door and greeted the concerned faces of Andrea and Richard, who pushed their way inside.

  “I assume you’re here about Désirée,” he stated, playing coy over the situation.

  “Yes, we are! Her room has been emptied, and she hasn’t…” Andrea’s words abruptly ended when she saw Désirée standing in Erik’s parlor seductively clad in a low-cut dress.

  “Désirée will be living with me in my quarters from now on,” he announced, signaling her to come to his side. In a surprising move that caused the jaws of Andrea and Richard to drop simultaneously, he slipped his arm around her waist affectionately. “We have made peace with each other,” he announced.

  Désirée responded by holding him close, her hand rested upon his chest over his heart.

  “We have,” she agreed, looking up with a girlish expression of love across her face.

  “I see,” replied Andrea, with her eyes as wide as saucers. “Might I ask—”

  Erik abruptly interrupted her. “No, you may not ask. This is our decision and both of you are kindly requested not to comment about our living arrangements. We’re both consenting adults.”

  Andrea huffed in disgust. Désirée knew she had displayed her disapproval for them to take note.

  “Now if you’ll excuse us,” he told them, tickling Désirée playfully causing a giggle to escape her lips, “we’d like to be alone.”

  “Come along, Andrea,” Richard suggested, tugging at her arm. They both left without further word, and Erik closed the panel door behind them.

  “There! Taken care of,” he announced, pulling Désirée to his lips. “Now,” he added with a wicked grin, “Where were we?” He cupped her breast with the palm of his hand.

  Désirée smiled.

  * * *

  “Oh, Richard, I can’t believe what’s happened!” Andrea raced back to her room with Richard in tow to expel her obvious abhorrence over the turn of events. “This cannot be good,” she declared, flinging the door open and stomping over to her settee where she flopped on the cushion. She grabbed a nearby program from Faust and began fanning herself to cool the heated blush bursting from her cheeks.

  “Did you see them?” she exclaimed. “Clinging to one another as if they had just…” Andrea felt as if she were on the verge of fainting. All these years, Erik hadn’t dared to touch a woman and now this!

  “The nerve of her!” She shook her finger at Richard. “Why, that hussy has drugged him again and has him in her clutches! We much save him, Richard!”

  Richard flashed a smile of amusement that angered Andrea. She knew a lecture would soon arrive, so she braced herself, sending him a glare of warning. He walked over, sat next to her, and gathered her up in his arms to soothe her incessant worry. She felt more than worry, but Andrea couldn’t put her finger upon the feelings churning in her soul.

  “Calm down, Andrea. They are consenting adults, as he said. We cannot judge them, and I for one am quite happy they have forgiven one another. What a monumental step for both of them, if you think about it rationally.”

  “Rationally,” she protested. “I cannot think rationally about this matter at all!” She stewed while Richard held her, thinking thoughts of impropriety between the two of them that sent shivers up her spine.

  “Did it ever occur to you that you might be jealous?”

  “What!” Andrea pulled away from Richard’s embrace and jumped to her feet in protest over the horrendous innuendo. “Why, Richard Mercier! How could you suggest such a thing?”

  Richard burst out laughing hysterically over Andrea’s interpretation of his statement. “No, no,” he protested, trying to stifle his laugh. “I am quite aware you have never looked at Erik in that way, but you have in other ways.”

  “Such as what? What are you suggesting?” She took an angry stomp in his direction.

  “You’re almost a mother to the man, Andrea. You have sheltered and cared for him for years. Like a parent, you’ve watched over him, worried about his welfare, cared for him when no one else would. Now that he knows a woman in the Biblical sense, if you’ll forgive my analogy, he is doing what is most natural to him as a man.”

  Andrea softened her tone, trying to understand his word. “And what is that?”

  “He’s clinging to her and leaving you. Désirée is taking that intimate place you’ve held for years. She is now his confidant and much more. If they have shared a bed, they are more attached than ever.”

  Andrea did not want to think of Erik sharing a bed with anyone. She quivered at the thought, but as she pondered Richard’s words, they rang true and realized that she did harbor a jealousy toward Désirée. She pulled her eyes away from Richard in shame and breathed a sigh of defeat.

  “Am I correct?” he pressured.

  “Yes, as usual. I do wish him happiness though I think their morality is a bit distorted.”

  “I doubt Erik has any moral compass to pain him as it does us. After all, Andrea, he has murdered, so the lines for him are blurred. His conscience is seared.”

  “You are quite right,” she admitted with a twinge of remorse.

  “Speaking of morality,” he added, quickly changing the subject to her surprise. “Marry me.”

  Andrea gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. “Good God, Richard Mercier, have you lost your mind?”

  He inched his way forward and pulled her into his chest. “No, I have not. This is the perfect time to claim you. Erik is now in the hands of another, and you are in my hands. Marry me.”

  Her stoic face relaxed, and Andrea allowed her pent-up love for Richard to release unabashed. “All right,” she replied. “I will marry you.”

  “At last!” he shouted. Richard kissed her fervently and then pulled away. Andrea looked at him with utter joy, feeling as if the weight of the world had slipped from her shoulders. No longer did she need to feel responsible for Erik’s happiness, as it now belonged to another. She finally could find her own.

  * * *

  “Married?” Erik questioned, surprised at the news. “Well, I’m happy for you,” he frankly admitted. Of course, he had played matchmaker by bringing the two back together, so he had to show his smug approval over the outcome. “I wish you h
appiness. When is the day?”

  Andrea spoke for both of them. “We’re leaving for Rome in the morning, Erik, and will be back in two weeks, if that is all right with you. We shall marry there, honeymoon, and return.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’m sure I can handle things here.” He had seriously thought of becoming more involved in the day-to-day operations anyway. Everyone still wished to know the genius behind the Royal Opera House, and his relationship with Désirée infused in him a new boldness to step out from behind the shadows without fear.

  “Well, I’m sure Désirée wishes you happiness as well.”

  “Where is she, might I ask?” Andrea looked confused at her absence.

  “She’s gone to visit her mother. I’ve encouraged her to make amends for both our sakes.”

  “That’s good,” interjected Richard. “Perhaps she will recover from the insane bitterness that keeps her captive once she realizes the two of you have passed that point of forgiveness and restoration.”

  Erik nodded his head. “Yes, I hope so.” He sighed. “I feel partially responsible for her mental instability. She protected her daughter and suffered much because of my own insanity that I once exhibited.”

  “Are you happy?”

  Andrea shocked him by the question. His eyes sparkled, which he knew she had rarely witnessed in his life, as he confessed his joy.

  “She accepts me wholeheartedly, Andrea, my true man; deformity and all. We are much alike, she and I. Both filled with scars and pain, but both able to embrace each other for who we are.” Erik smiled in satisfaction. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  Richard approached Erik, moved with emotion, and patted him on the shoulder. “I’m happy to hear that, Erik. You have no idea.”

  “Take care of Andrea, good man, or you’ll have me to answer to!” Erik gave him a look, and Richard smiled in return.