Chapter 1

one

?. . .?

Chrissy

I stand before the mirror, studying my reflection as I slip into the elegant white dress, the fabric shimmering under the warm glow of my bedroom lights. The bodice hugs my curves, the off-the-shoulder neckline exposing the creamy skin of my décolletage. I let out a soft exhale, my fingers trembling slightly as I smooth the skirt over my hips.

"You look stunning, Chrissy," my best friend Madison says from behind me, her voice laced with admiration. "That dress is perfect for Christine Daaé."

I meet her eyes in the mirror, a smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Thanks, Mads. I can't believe I'm actually doing this—going to a fancy costume party the night before starting my dream job."

Madison grins, stepping closer to adjust the delicate lace trim along the neckline of my dress. "You deserve to celebrate! Landing that marketing position at Zander Industries is huge. Besides, it's Halloween!"

I nod and grin, a flutter of excitement and nerves dancing in my stomach at the mention of my new job. Of course, Madison would say that. She's always looking for any excuse to drag me to a party. She's definitely the fun-loving one between us two best friends.

"I just hope I can live up to everyone's expectations. Zander Williams is known for being a brilliant but demanding boss," I say as I bite my lip, my nervousness taking back over.

"You've got this, girl! You're smart, talented, and you look hot as hell in that costume. Stop worrying about tomorrow! Tonight is all about letting loose and enjoying yourself before diving into the corporate world."

I take a deep breath, letting her words sink in as I turn back to my reflection. The dress fits like a second skin, the layered skirt cascading down my legs in a whisper of satin and lace. I reach for the delicate white mask resting on my vanity, my fingers caressing the smooth porcelain surface before lifting it to my face.

As I secure the mask in place, a thrill rushes through me, the nerves giving way to anticipation. I may be starting a new chapter in my life tomorrow, but tonight, I'm going to embrace the mystery and magic of being someone else entirely—even if only for a few hours.

"All right, let's do this," I say as I turn to face Madison with a grin.

***

The moment I step into the ballroom, I'm transported to another world. The space is transformed, draped in rich fabrics and bathed in the warm glow of countless candles. Masked figures swirl around me, their costumes a dazzling array of colors and textures. It's like something from another era, and I'm momentarily dumbstruck. The air is thick with anticipation, charged with a sense of mystery and barely restrained desire.

I pause for a moment, drinking it all in. The music wraps around me like an intimate caress. I've never been to a masquerade before, and the sheer romance of it all sends a shiver down my spine.

Madison appears at my elbow, her eyes sparkling behind her own intricately decorated mask. "Isn't this incredible?" she murmurs, her voice nearly lost in the swell of the music.

I nod, too entranced to speak. As I let my gaze wander over the room, a flicker of awareness prickles along my skin, and I turn slowly, my gaze drawn like a magnet to the far side of the room. There, amid the swirling dancers and flickering candlelight, stands a figure that seems to command attention without even trying. He's dressed as the Phantom, the stark white of his half-mask contrasting sharply with the elegant black of his tailored suit.

A little thrill runs through me. How perfect! A man dressed as a character that matches mine.

Our eyes meet, and the rest of the room falls away. It's as if we're the only two people in the world, connected by an invisible thread that tugs insistently at my core. I'm vaguely aware of Madison saying something, but her words are lost in the rush of blood in my ears.

The Phantom tilts his head, a silent invitation, and I find myself moving towards him as if in a dream. The crowds part before me, the chatter and laughter fading to a distant hum. As I draw closer, I see that his eyes are a striking blue, piercing even in the dim light. They seem to see straight into my soul, leaving me feeling exposed and exhilarated all at once.

"Good evening," he says, his voice a rich, velvety purr that sends a shiver cascading down my spine. "I don't believe we've met."

"No," I manage, my own voice sounding breathy and foreign to my ears. "I'm sure I would remember."

His lips quirk in a ghost of a smile. "Likewise. And who, may I ask, is the enchanting Christine to my Phantom tonight?"

I flush, suddenly grateful for the mask that conceals my heated cheeks. "Chrissy," I murmur, extending a hand that trembles slightly. "My name is Chrissy."

He takes my hand in his, his fingers warm and strong. Instead of shaking it, he raises it to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss across my knuckles. "A pleasure, Chrissy. You may call me...Erik."

I laugh softly, caught up in the playful spirit of the masquerade. "Just like the Phantom's real name. How fitting."

"Indeed," he agrees, his eyes glinting with mischief. "It seems we are perfectly matched this evening."

There's a double meaning to his words, a subtle undercurrent that makes my pulse quicken. The air between us feels charged, electric with possibility. I wonder if he feels it too, this inexplicable connection.

My cheeks flush further. I've never been this intensely attracted to someone—someone I just met no less.

"So, Chrissy," he says, my name rolling off his tongue like a caress. "What brings a stunning creature like you to this den of mystery and intrigue tonight? Business or pleasure?"

I smile, emboldened by the mask and the magic of the moment. "Can't it be both? I do start a new job tomorrow, so I suppose this is my last hurrah, so to speak. A final night of freedom before the corporate world claims me."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "Ah, so we have a woman of ambition in our midst. I admire that. And your new employer is fortunate indeed to have secured your talents."

I laugh, shaking my head. "You're very smooth, Erik. But I think it's a bit early to be singing my praises. For all you know, I could be utterly incompetent."

"Nonsense," he scoffs, his gaze intense. "I have a feeling about you, Chrissy. Call it...intuition. I suspect you're going to take the corporate world by storm."

A haunting melody drifts through the air, the notes slow and seductive. The Phantom offers me his hand, his eyes gleaming behind his mask. "Dance with me," he murmurs, and it's not a question.

I place my hand in his, letting him draw me close. His other hand settles at the small of my back, the heat of his touch searing through the thin fabric of my dress. We begin to move, our bodies swaying in perfect synchronicity, as if we've been dancing together for years.

The world around us fades away, until there is only the music, the dance, and this man who has so thoroughly captivated me. I'm acutely aware of every place our bodies touch—the brush of his thigh against mine, the firmness of his chest pressed to my breasts, the whisper of his breath against my cheek.

As the song builds to a crescendo, Zander spins me out, then pulls me back in, my back now pressed firmly to his front. His lips graze the shell of my ear as he whispers, "You move like a dream, Chrissy. Like you were made to be in my arms."

I shiver, my body alight with sensation. I turn in his embrace, our faces now mere inches apart. "Maybe I was," I breathe, hardly recognizing my own voice, husky with desire.

His gaze drops to my lips, and I see the hunger in his eyes, a mirror of my own. "I want to kiss you," he says, his grip on my waist tightening. "I want to do a lot more than kiss you."

My breath catches, and my mind races. I never do anything impulsive. I'm always the responsible straight-laced one. Isn't tonight supposed to be about celebrating and finally letting lose?

His eyes smolder down at me, and I lick my lips. Fuck it. "Then what are you waiting for?" I finally whisper, throwing caution to the wind.

He emits a growl in the back of his throat, and then his mouth claims mine in a searing kiss, and holy moly, I'm lost. Lost in the feel of his lips moving over mine, in the slide of his tongue against my own, in the way his hands roam over my curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

We stumble off the dance floor, never breaking the kiss, until we find ourselves in a dimly lit corner, hidden from prying eyes. He presses me against the wall, his body a delicious weight against mine. "God, Chrissy," he groans as he kisses a path down my neck. "What is this madness? I can't get enough of you. I've never wanted anyone the way I want you."

"Same," I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to me.

He presses himself against, and I can feel his erection poking into my stomach.

My eyes widen. He's fucking huge! I might be a virgin, but I've read books before and sneaked a peak at some porn, and I know he's more than well endowed.

He growls again and takes my hand before leading me down a hallway and into a room that looks like an old-world library or study.

His hands find the zipper of my dress, lowering it slowly, torturously. "Let me worship you," he murmurs against my skin. "Let me show you pleasure like you've never known."

I nod, unable to form words, my body trembling with need. He slides the dress from my shoulders, letting it pool at my feet. I stand before him in nothing but my lacy white bra and panties, feeling exposed yet utterly desired under his heated gaze.

"Exquisite," he breathes, his hands skimming over my bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "An angel in the flesh."

Damn, he's playing this Phantom role good, and I'm so here for it.

He dips his head, trailing open-mouthed kisses along my collarbone, his fingers deftly unclasping my bra. It falls away, and he cups my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, coaxing them to hardened peaks. I arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

"So responsive," he murmurs appreciatively. "I can't wait to taste every inch of you."

He lowers me onto a plush velvet chaise, his body covering mine. His mouth finds my breast, suckling and nipping, while his hand traces the curve of my waist, my hip, before slipping between my thighs. He groans when he feels the damp heat there, evidence of my arousal.

"All this for me?" he asks, his fingers stroking me through the fabric of my panties.

"Yes," I hiss, my hips lifting to meet his touch. "Please, Erik...I need..."

"Shh, I know what you need, sweet Chrissy. Let me give it to you."

He strips away my panties and settles between my legs, his breath hot against my most intimate flesh. The first stroke of his tongue has me crying out, my hands fisting in his hair. He licks and suckles, worshipping me with his mouth, driving me to heights I've never known.

When he slips a finger inside me, I nearly come undone. "Please," I beg, not even sure what I'm pleading for.

He adds a second finger, stretching me, preparing me. "I want to be inside you," he rasps. "I want to claim you, make you mine."

"Yes," I breathe. "Yes, please."

He stands, shedding his clothes with impressive speed. And then he's back, the hard heat of him pressing against my entrance. He pauses, his eyes locking with mine. "You're sure?" he asks, and I can see the strain on his face, the effort it's taking to hold back.

"I've never been more sure of anything," I tell him, and it's the truth.

He surges forward, filling me in one swift thrust. I cry out at the sudden fullness, the slight pinch of pain. He stills, his eyes widening as realization dawns on him. "You're a virgin?"

I flush and bite my lip as I nod.

He makes a sound that's half tortured, half pleasure as he stays still, letting me adjust, and then he does something that causes takes my breath away with its sudden tenderness.

He peppers my face with gentle kisses. "Breathe, baby," he soothes. "Just breathe."

I do, focusing on the feel of him inside me, the

He begins to move, slowly at first, his strokes deep and measured. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure radiating through my body, and soon the discomfort fades, replaced by a building ecstasy. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, and he groans, his control slipping.

"God, Chrissy," he pants against my neck. "You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect."

His words inflame me further, and I arch against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. The room fills with the sounds of our passion—the slap of skin on skin, our mingled moans and gasps, the erotic whisper of the velvet beneath us.

"You're mine now," he growls, his thrusts becoming harder, more possessive. "Say it, Chrissy. Say you're mine."

A thrill runs through me at his commanding tone, at the raw need in his voice. "I'm yours," I breathe, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "All yours, Erik."

He makes a sound of pure male satisfaction and drives into me harder, hitting a spot deep inside that has me seeing stars. I rake my nails down his back, lost in the overwhelming sensations.

"I'll never let you go," he vows, his eyes burning into mine. "You belong to me now, body and soul. No other man will ever touch you. You're mine, forever and always."

His possessive words should scare me, but instead they fill me with a dark, forbidden excitement. The idea of belonging to this mysterious, powerful man is intoxicating.

"Yes," I moan, tightening my legs around him. "Yours, only yours."

He kisses me fiercely, his tongue plundering my mouth as he pounds into me, driving us both closer to the edge. I feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in my belly.

"Come for me, Chrissy," he commands, his voice rough with need. "Let me feel you come undone around me."

His words are my undoing. With a cry, I shatter, my body convulsing around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me. He follows me over the edge with a roar, spilling himself deep inside me.

We cling to each other as we come down from the high, our bodies trembling, our breath coming in ragged gasps. He presses tender kisses to my face, my neck, murmuring words of praise and adoration.

"That was...incredible," I manage, my voice hoarse. "I've never felt anything like that before."

He smiles, a slow, sensual curve of his lips. "And you never will, with anyone else. You're ruined for other men now, sweet Chrissy. You'll crave my touch, my kiss, the feel of me inside you. No one else will ever satisfy you." He growls, "No one else will ever touch you. I'll kill anyone who tries."

I shiver at his words, a thrill racing down my spine. His possessiveness, the intensity of his claim on me, it's intoxicating. A part of me knows this is crazy. But a larger part, the part that's still drunk on the pleasure he just gave me, wants to surrender completely.

"No one else," I agree breathlessly, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "I don't want anyone else. Just you."

His eyes blaze with satisfaction and something else, something deeper and more primal. He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Good girl," he murmurs. "My perfect, obedient angel."

He shifts, slipping out of me, and I whimper at the sudden emptiness. He chuckles, the sound dark and rich. "Don't worry, baby. We're far from done. I plan to keep you in this room until you can't walk straight. Until the only name you remember is mine."

Before I can even protest that I have to start my new job tomorrow, he's kissing me again, his mouth hot and demanding against mine. He presses me back into the plush velvet, his body covering mine, and all thoughts flee as I'm lost once more in a haze of pleasure.

He takes me again and again, until the candles burn low and the music from the ballroom fades to a distant hum. Each time is more intense than the last, his possession of me more complete. By the time he finally lets me go, I'm deliciously sore, my body humming with satisfaction.

He gets my phone number and makes me promise to see him the next day after work.

I already can't wait.