Chapter 21: Yearning

Yearning is the desire you feel for the one you love.
Longing is the lust you feel when you lie to yourself and call it love.

A Fool's Book of Wisdom

"This feels so delightfully wicked, Erik! Are you quite certain that this is a method of teaching voice? Or, are you trying to seduce me, Monsieur?"

While the words slipped haughtily from her lips, the mischievous light in her glistening eyes belied her tone of mock horror. She arched an eyebrow at him as she awaited his response. The man, who hovered above her body with his hands controlling her movements, froze. For a brief instant, he lost his cocky certainty as he raised his serious eyes to Christine. However, after reading the playful air and her seductive mien, his demeanor relaxed and he swiftly regained his confident manner. Matching the impish light shining in the young woman's eyes, a sly smile stole across his lips and a husky chuckle rolled from his mouth.

"Do I really need to seduce you, Mademoiselle? I do not seem to remember you requiring any coaxing from me and that you came quite willingly to this position beneath me. Perhaps, we are both the wicked ones here."

As a whisper-soft moan escaped unknowingly from him, he pressed the length of his growing hardness, which provided the evidence of his wickedness, against the side of her thigh and she released a sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan. Spurred on by the musical noises emanating from his beloved, his hips rocked forward. His body instinctively acting. Her body reacting. Her back arched, thrusting upwards against the firm body of the man, as her body immediately sought the part of him she needed buried tightly inside her. Their actions unknowing proof of Newton's Third Law of Motion that forces always come in pairs. He moved nearer to her, she responded. Their passion swept all cognizant thought from both of their minds leaving only a firestorm of desire. Two pairs of feverish lips crashed desperately against each other, ravenous to sate the longing, which overwhelmed both of them. Hands glided over soft, yielding mounds and other hands slid along a thick, rigid shaft. As the writhing movements of the pair became ever more frenetic, so too did the sound of the impending storm outside.

Christine tore her mouth away from Erik's and stared at him with wild eyes.

"Prenez-moi, Erik! Maintenant¹!" She gasped raggedly.

A blinding bolt of lightning struck a tree just outside, the severed branch cracking and splintering noisily as it fell to the ground. The brief silence, which followed ended with booming thunder that shook the cottage.

"Oh, Christine!"

He cleared his throat and raised his eyes beseechingly to the heavens. A shudder ran through his body and he allowed his head to roll from side-to-side along his back before he lifted his head, returning his gaze to the panting brunette. His eyes filled with desperate longing, as they pierced into her soul before he turned away and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He sighed and rolled off of her.

"Really, Christine! Tu êtes ma petite verrou de foudre²! I desire nothing more than to lay with you, swath your lips and breasts with kisses, then cover your body with mine and take you, but we both know what the result of that action would be. I want you, Christine. And, I wish to live long enough to make you mine in every way, but only if that is what you truly desire. I love you and if you were willing, I would ask you to be my wife, to bear my children, to spend the rest of your life with me. I desire all of these things, but I cannot ask anything of you until we tame the storm you carry within your soul. So, please do not tempt me. I am in love with you and cannot withstand the lure of your charms when you offer them to me so freely. I feared that our attraction would interfere with our lessons and that is the reason why I put you off for the last week. I cannot do this alone. We must resist temptation together. We must stand firm in our resolve to wait until you are ready. So, I ask you, Christine, can you allow me to teach you without tormenting me? Can you do this, ma chéri?"

The smirk on the young woman's face faded and she pursed her lips. She sat up and ran her hands over her skirts to smooth them then turned her longing eyes to the man.

"Oh, Erik! The last thing I intended to do was to tease you. In fact, I am most serious about my feelings for you. Please believe me when I tell you that I want you as much as you want me. And, I would love to accept your proposal and make a life with you. But, we both know that I am not ready to do that ... not yet. I do not wish for anything to happen to you because of this damnable power that seems to control my life. I ... I am sorry. It is just that when you touch me, I do not wish to control myself. My entire life has been that of me controlling my wants and desires. Ever since the death of my papa, I held back from those around me, remaining both untouched and unloved. I listened and watched as everyone lived around me. I have hidden behind a mask, pretending that I did not want the same things other women wanted, but I do want them. Actually, I want you, Erik! My body aches with its need of you. When you place your hands on me, I burn deep inside. You are not the only one that feels tormented, mon amour. I may be untouched, but I am not wholly innocent. I am aware of the things that men and women do. One cannot live on an estate the size of the de Mornay's without witnessing several assignations. I realize that I must learn control or I could hurt someone, perhaps, even kill someone. If one good thing can come of Helen's mistake, it is to show me what comes from not being properly prepared. I want you, but I promise to behave. Please, continue with the lesson. I promise that I shall conduct myself in a manner appropriate for a young, unmarried lady. Truly! I promise!"

The panting couple collapsed against one another as they slowly gained control and their ragged breaths calmed. Erik pressed a single kiss to Christine's forehead then looked deeply into her eyes.

"I need you always to remember that I love you. Can you do that for me, ma chéri? Please?" He murmured huskily.

Returning his stare with wide, unblinking eyes, Christine nodded as she lay back down. She smiled gently and allowed her love for Erik to speak to him through her shining eyes.

The young man sighed once more, bowed his head and turned away. Removing his mask, he wiped the sweat from his face then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it across the inside of his mask. He quickly returned the mask to his face and the handkerchief to his pocket. Then, he took a deep breath and released it; he opened his eyes, turned to her and began again.

"Very well. Listen to my words, Christine. I wish for you to listen and think about the action I describe. Do not move! Perform the action within your mind. I shall move your body for you. Listen to the sound of my voice and feel yourself becoming relaxed. Your muscles are loose. There is no tension in your body. Every part of you is limp and free. Breathing is the only action I require of you. Breathe deep. Allow your lungs to take in just as much air as you need. Listen to my voice and relax."