*WARNING THIS IS A SEX SCENE WARNING!!!!!!!*

Erik's fingers caught on the silk of her wedding dress as they began their descent down her body. His lips gently caressed her neck, soft, and hot against her skin. The assault of affection was more than welcome and had her gasping in seconds.

The warmth of the front of his body seeped into her back, his arms forming a tender cage around her.

But she was not the only one affected and aroused. Just having her near had always done something to him, but now, knowing she was his and he was hers, that tonight the act would be proven as physically as it was on paper, Erik gave into his own desire. His passion flared, his need for her, his want for her body became more and more evident. This was a race to be run. He had her heart and love, all that was left was her temple.

Her skin glided softly against his as her bare arms drifted around his neck, her beautiful hand touching his destroyed face. He kissed her palm, down her arm, her shoulder, leaning downwards, moving to her collarbone until she gasped suddenly as his lips grazed the previously forbidden: the slight curve of her breasts peeking from above the neckline of her wedding dress.

"Erik," she whispered, turning in his arms to face him.

Their faces were inches apart, and sensing her hesitation, her husband smiled softly and placed a reassuring kiss on her lips.

"I love you," he said, one hand coming up her body to rest on her shoulder in preparation, and hint of what was to come.

"I love you too." Was her only reply.

She nodded softly to him. With one quick gesture that only he as the Phantom would know, her dress was on the floor, and her slip was the only barrier between her skin and the air.

    Her breathing was fast and heavy, his heart raced in chest in reaction. There was an ache, a burn deep inside him. He wanted to take her on the floor, not being able to wait for them to walk to the bed. He needed her. But at the same time, this was her. This was the stronger thought. He loved her.

   She half wanted him to pounce on her, and the other half longed for his silky fingers to lovingly caress her skin amd his sweet voice to echo across her ears, in soft moans of love.

     He began backing her slowly towards the bed again. He reached around her, dragging the covers further down before crossing to his side and waiting.

  When they both settled in, they stared awkwardly at each other.

   Celi brushed her fingers against his cheek. His perfect cheek. The ridged skin felt so right against her own.

    He moved closer until they were kissing, and slowly he was above her again.

   "Erik," she said as he moved lower down her body, long fingers looping around the straps of her slip to bring them off her shoulders.

   "Celi," he singsonged back. "Shh, my love." His hot breath raged on her skin, causing her to shudder. He liked her like that, shaking beneath him.

   He slowly pulled down the slip and her eyes shut tightly closed. She couldn't watch his rejection.

   As suddenly as the slip left her body, she froze, and his lips moistened her skin in fiery, accepting kisses. Her breasts, her stomach, her ribs, almost ever inch of skin on her torso was scarred and twisted in the most gruesome manner. White scars, red scars, pink scars, jagged lines forever cutting puzzles into her flesh. He kissed every one of them.

   Celine was gasping, her spine arched upwards, body craving his mouth.

   "Oh my god," she whispered.

   Erik could not get enough of her luscious skin and promptly decided her pale flesh needed a few... positive Mark's, courtesy of himself.

   He was not yet done with teasing her skin when she began pulling him up by digging her fingers into his hair, seeing as his shirt was long gone.

  His own body was muscular and well formed. His scars were thinner and while permanent, clearly faded, though that could be because he had nearly a decade and a half on her so he had more time to heal. She loved the feel of him against her.

     She moaned as his hands drifted down to her legs, stroked her thighs and hips as he gently part her limbs with his own leg, quickly settling in between them.

   Erik's pants went next, followed by the last of her undergarments. They kissed ferociously, unable to fulfill the great need they had for each other.

   She trembled beneath him as his hips moved against her, as he pressed against her. Celi wanted him so much.

    "Erik," she whispered. "I'm ready... please..." and that was all it took.

    He was inside her. She gasped, her delicate body writhing underneath him, pleasure and pain filling her alongside his hardness. She cried out his name as he turned to stone, afraid to move, needing to though. It was heaven, feeling her around him, feeling her heat enclosing him, her softness.

   Celia's hand grabbed his hair and tugged his head down to her neck. Her hips spun ina revolution, a sign to continue.

   In minutes they were deep within their own world, lost in each other, hearts pounding blood racing through their veins. With each thrust the hot need grew stronger. Again and again until at last they reached their highs.

    Erik fell beside Celine and brought her closer, locked in his arms as they both breathed heavily.

   "I love you."

  "I love you."

      Ten years later.....

   The Destlers were the owners of the finest theatres in Paris. They had three beautiful children, two girls, and one boy. They lived happily near the Seine, and every Sunday, Monsieur Destler took his wife out for a walk. He never wore a mask.

   Mrs. Destler's family often visited, and the children adored their grandparents, and uncles Guy and Rodger.

   All was well in the operatic world.