Page 65 of Angel's Kiss
“It does tend to help when the newest diva is in excellent form,” Robert remarked warmly as they continued through the gaslit halls. “I’m glad you overcame whatever it was bringing you down earlier this week.”
Christine squirmed at the reminder. “No one said anything to me about it.”
“Of course they didn’t, they’re too scared of you,” Robert laughed.
Christine turned to him in alarm. “What?”
“After what happened to Carlotta, no one would even dare look at you the wrong way, for fear of being cursed too,” Robert explained lightly, his stride not even faltering as they came to the stage door.
“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Christine muttered, wondering if Robert knew it was a lie. The way he raised an eyebrow in response wasn’t promising.
“Of course not. But even if that’s the truth, this is a theater, the truth doesn’t matter. Only what people think they know,” Robert said as he held open the stage door for her. “You have power, whether you’re a witch who’s ensnared a ghost or a normal whore like the rest of us.”
“I’m not—” Christine balked again then snapped her mouth closed. It would be another lie to deny both those things.
“I’m not judging, my darling,” Robert countered, and Christine believed him. “We all take whatever advantage we can to get where we want to be.”
“I like to think I earned my career,” Christine grumbled as they circled to the front of the Opera. They were bound for the most popular café among the singers,Entr’acte, located withinLe Grand Hôtel, acrossLe Place de L’Opéra. Christine liked how the dark wood of the rooms reminded her of Erik’s home.
“We all like to think that,” Robert went on. “But no one in the theater is here solely because we deserve it. The two of us are lucky, to have found lovers to uplift us who we also enjoy.”
Christine swallowed. It was strange to think of Erik as a lover. It was such a small and inadequate word for what he was to her, and at the same time, the idea made her blush.
“I don’t recall saying anything about...him,” Christine began as Robert led her into the café and they took a place in a secluded booth in the back. There were other singers and musicians there already and they all pretended not to stare at the couple. Robert chuckled at her shyness, a wonderful low rumble as only a true basso could produce.
“Indeed you haven’t,” Robert sighed. “Though I must admit, I am terribly curious about whoever the Gualtier Malde is to your Gilda. Or if your Faust has deflowered his Marguerite.”
Christine looked down at the dark wood of the table to hide her blush. Gilda was very much like Marguerite: a woman tricked into the bed of a man who wished to corrupt her. She didn’t think Erik was like the duke, rather he was much more like Robert’s own role, Rigoletto himself. A deformed man who hated the nobles he had to serve, who wanted to keep a woman locked safely away. But he failed.
“No one has deflowered me, Robert,” Christine whispered, scratching at a notch in the table.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that by the way you sing.” Christine looked up at Robert and he shrugged. “You sing with the passion of a woman who shall we say, knows the ways of the world. Or at least how nice it is to be fucked.”
“I – we—” Christine’s tongue was too big for her mouth all of a sudden, even more so when Robert chortled again. “He and I, we’ve donethings. But we haven’t—” God, where was one of Erik’s trap doors to disappear into when you needed one? “Never mind.”
“Well, if you’ve found yourself a man who’ll please you and not demand more, that’s a remarkable treasure indeed,” Robert said. “Though I do hope you are returning some of the favors he gives you in kind.”
Christine blanched as Robert smirked, just in time for a waiter to finally arrive to serve them. She was glad of the distraction. She had to admit in all of her time with Erik in the last few days, she had pondered more than once when he would take her fully. Perhaps he was waiting for permission of some kind, or for both of them to be ready. They were both virgins after all and neither of them knew what to expect from any of this.
“I hope you don’t mind that I ordered for you,” Robert was saying when Christine looked up. “You were lost in thought.”
“Well, I have the devil whispering in my ear, you can’t blame me,” Christine shot back and Robert grinned.
“Always happy to be of service. Now, in case your other devil asks something for you, I do have some experience there,” Robert went before he took a long sip of the wine that had appeared in front of them at some point. He pushed the other glass towards Christine. “It’s not so different from singing, in all truth, it’s all about relaxing your throat.”
Christine took a gulp of the wine, horrified and amazed as she listened.
––––––––
Erik was not entirelysure how they had made it to this place. Not solely in terms of how it was even possible that a woman like Christine would ever let him touch her, let alone kiss her and caress her. But physically he was not sure how they had come to be on the floor of the parlor, halfway under the piano, clothes strewn around them. It was certainly a better location thanonthe piano, where things had started.
He didn’t mind being down here with her. It was more than pleasant to fall back on the rug, sated and breathless, and look to find Christine in the same state. She smiled at him and immediately he remembered the lack of his mask. He knew there was no reason to hide from her, after she had seen him so many times, but even so, he ducked from her gaze and hid his face against her bare breast. It was as natural as anything to kiss her, right above her heart.
“Was that not enough?” Christine asked, gentle humor in her voice as she twined her fingers into his hair.
“Are you tired?”
“I know I should be, but no.” She hummed in encouragement as his mouth trailed along her chest and his tongue found her breast. She sighed, pulling him closer as he licked and sucked at her, savoring how her nipple grew taut and hard between his lips. Thankfully, what they had just done kept his cock from doing the same, for now.
