NOTES: The lyrics below are from "Through The Eyes of Love" by Marvin Hamlisch and Carol Bayer Sager, the theme song from the movie Ice Castles, as sung by Melissa Manchester.
And now I do believe, that even in the storm
We'll find some light
Knowing you're beside me
I'm all right
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For a long moment they simply held each other, cherishing the piercing sweetness of once again being together. Catherine's heart sang, knowing that soon their bodies would be joined in love as their hearts had always been. The evening was soft and warm, the twilight not yet turned to full darkness, though a few stars twinkled faintly above the treetops.
A profound silence had fallen upon this realm, broken only by an occasional sleepy chirp from high above them and the lapping of waves nearby . . . the gentle whisper of leaves overhead. The tranquility sank deep into Vincent's soul. He felt the lingering remnants of his doubts melt away, knew at last with absolute clarity that this final step was right for them - had always been right.
He loosened his arms and gazed at Catherine as she lay back. "You are so beautiful." Slowly he touched one clawed finger to her face, tracing along her lips, trailing up across her jawline to the sensitive skin around her ears, stroking slowly down her neck. He sensed more than actually heard her soft sigh of delight. Catherine tilted her head back, baring her throat enticingly. Vincent had always loved the clean, graceful lines of her neck and throat, and he couldn't resist this offering.
Leaning over he pressed his lips below her ear. He nuzzled his way across her creamy skin, kissing, nibbling, feeling the rapid beat of her heart, the tiny shivers which shook her, the almost imperceptible arching of her hips. Slowly one hand moved down her side and worked beneath the hem of her blouse. Feeling the warm skin of her stomach under his fingers, Vincent hesitated briefly, then withdrew his hand.
Catherine opened her eyes. "Don't stop," she started to say, then caught back the words in a soft gasp when Vincent eased open the top button of her shirt and began working on the next. As each pearly button became undone he nuzzled a soft kiss onto the thin sliver of flesh thus revealed. His movements were slow and deliberate . . . and tantalizing in the extreme. Catherine's heart skipped a beat.
The last button was reached and unfastened, and still her blouse lay unopened upon her body, concealing all that lay beneath from Vincent's eyes. Catherine lay very still, waiting Vincent's next move. She was stunned and excited by the deliberate sensuousness of his action. She'd expected that she would be the seducer, enticing Vincent out of the morass of his insecurities and fears, leading him to the ultimate completion they both longed for. Never had she dreamed he would take control like this, with such powerful sensuality. Her hands were literally aching with her need to touch him, caress his naked skin, but with an effort she ignored the urge. She knew it was not yet time.
The outline of Catherine's breasts showed plainly through the thin blue silk, her nipples tiny, delicate points of allurement. The clinging fabric vibrated visibly with each pounding heartbeat. Vincent stroked his thumb caressingly across the silk-covered curves, lingering for a breathtaking moment on one soft tip. The wave of heat that suffused her body at his touch sent Catherine's mind soaring. She breathed out his name, her voice ragged.
Vincent raised his eyes to her flushed face, read the entreaty in her eyes. In one smooth motion he rose onto his knees and pulled her up as he knelt on the cloak, sitting back on his heels. Catherine's denim-clad legs straddled his thighs and her body was only scant inches away. She planted a soft yet passionate kiss on his mouth, flicking her tongue lightly against his unique lips while she stroked his face and neck with slow, tantalizing caresses.
"I love you, Catherine." Delving beneath the silky cover of her blouse, Vincent brought his hands up slowly from the curve of her waist, sliding upward along the smooth skin until he touched the soft undercurve of her breasts. Stroking gently along that swell he reached and caressed the tender velvet of her nipples, marveling as they tightened in immediate response to his touch. Slowly he drew apart the open edges of her blouse, pushing it back over her shoulders, and for the first time her small, full breasts were revealed to his eyes. He drank in their beauty, allowing his eyes to roam over the graceful curves, the rosy tips so taut and beckoning.
Catherine lowered her arms and the silken blouse slithered down to subside in a shimmering spill over Vincent's knees. She reveled in the knowledge that Vincent was finally looking upon her body, finding in the thought an excitement and a pleasure that made her tremble.
"Catherine." Vincent looked up, speaking her name in a voice she
had never heard from him - deep, hoarse, commandingly sexual. She thrilled to
the sound of it. She was breathing rapidly now, her heart racing out of control.
Vincent leaned forward and brushed his face against her warmth, then kissed the soft, flushed curves. The touch of his warm lips on her breasts, his tongue, rough yet gloriously soft, gliding gently over and around the sensitive tips, sent a jolt through Catherine. She gasped out loud.
Catherine twined her shaking hands into Vincent's thick, tawny mane, and fought to control the passions raging within her. She had known physical love before, primarily with Stephen Bass but also with a few other men in her life, and had always considered it to be enjoyable, if not the mind-shattering experience depicted in the movies and romance novels. Never had Catherine known that desire could be so consuming, sweeping away all conscious thought and action before its torrential force.
Vincent's warm, rough hands were in constant motion, stroking lightly, carefully, with his claws along her back, gliding over her thighs, moving upward to cup her breasts. Already deeply aroused, so intense were Catherine's sensations that she was very close to climaxing right then and there.
Then his lips enclosed her, and Catherine moaned as she felt the gentle tug and pressure of her breast being drawn into Vincent's warm mouth. His fangs pressed against her skin, their sharpness tantalizing, arousing. The sensations evoked by his suckling coursed hotly through her, seemingly drawn from the most secret recesses of her body, and suddenly Catherine was shaken by convulsive waves as she found her shuddering release.
With an incoherent cry she arched her back, her taut fingers clutching handfuls of Vincent's mane, until the last spasm had subsided. Through the pounding of blood in her ears Catherine was vaguely aware of Vincent's groans, of his arms circling tightly around her waist. Still gasping, she sank down into his strong arms, leaned weakly against his chest.
Vincent stroked her hair, and Catherine turned her head to nuzzle the soft skin of his neck. After a few minutes she sat up again and gazed at him with eyes that were lambent with pleasure.
"God, Vincent, that's never happened before, not like that!" She was still catching her breath, still caught in the lingering pulsations of her climax. All at once she realized that Vincent too was breathing hard, almost panting. She could feel his body quivering every so slightly as he held her.
"You felt it too?" Wondering, Catherine ran her fingers through the soft tumble of his mane as his eyes opened, dazed and disbelieving. She smiled warmly. "I'm glad."
"Catherine, that was - I don't - is it always like that?" Vincent breathed deeply, striving to calm his racing heart, savoring the languorous warmth now stealing through his limbs.
Catherine laughed quietly at his incoherence. Pulling his head toward her she kissed him with the utmost tenderness. She caressed the nape of his neck with slow, delicate touches of her fingernails and felt the tremors that ran through him. Immediately she deepened their kiss. Slow fire consumed her as their tongues met; she pulled back, wanting to prolong the sensation. "My love," she promised softly, "you ain't seen nothing yet."
She settled down on Vincent's lap, feeling his erection throbbing even through the double layer of their clothing. Pressing more firmly against him, she moved with a gentle, sensuous motion, watching his face the while. It was with a thrill that she saw his eyes begin to darken, heard his shivering intake of breath. She reached for his shirt.
For a wonder, Vincent was wearing only one layer of clothing tonight instead of his usual vest-over-shirt-and/or-sweater combination. Catherine began loosening the leather ties of his soft woolen shirt, gazing with sensual delight at the wedge of soft amber fur becoming visible through the gradually opening vee. She placed her hand against the exposed area, ran her fingers through the sleek hair, savoring the feel of warm fur and skin.
"I remember how wonderful it felt to touch you that night, Vincent - like velvet and silk." She untied the last of the laces until the shirt lay open to his waist. Slowly she pulled the shirt free from the confinement of his waistband and slipped her hands beneath its loose folds, exploring with her palms and fingers the heat and softness of his skin with its fine covering of velvety fur.
Or was it hair? Catherine had beguiled many a long, weary hour during her imprisonment debating that question, playing back over and over again her memories of that all too brief encounter with his nakedness. Even now she couldn't quite decide. It seemed to be a blend of both, possessing the silky quality but not the density she associated with animal fur. In this, as in everything about him, Vincent was gloriously unique.
She ran her palm caressingly across his powerful chest, saw his nipples tightening, felt the beat of his heart. Her pulse began to echo that thundering cadence. "You are so beautiful," she said with a catch in her voice. "I love you so much."
Vincent groaned, his senses reeling from the intoxication of her touch. He pulled her close and sought her mouth, kissing her deeply, passionately. His hunger for her increased; the gentle touch of her soul within his heart had become all-consuming in its intensity. His need was a white-hot fire in his blood. And yet -
With a strangled sound Vincent broke away from their kiss and captured her wandering hands in his own. Bringing them to his mouth, kissing each one, he held them, mutely protesting, against his chest and shook his head. Gasping for breath, he said, "Catherine. Please . . . stop."
Catherine stared at him, utterly confused. Though unable to share fully in their bond, here, in this otherworldly realm, she was able to sense his stronger emotions and thoughts. And his feelings had been very strong indeed - love and desire and a complete willingness to take the final step toward the unity they both longed for. She knew she hadn't misunderstood that. So why was he pulling back?
"Vincent, I love you," Catherine began, gently, pleading. "I want to make love with you. I thought you wanted it too?" Her voice trailed away uncertainly. Had she been too aggressive? Was Vincent once again shying away from too much intimacy? She felt close to tears at the thought.
Instantly Vincent released her hands and leaned forward, cupping her face between his palms. He kissed her with powerful sensuality. "I do," he said softly, "how can you doubt it?" He cast a wry and somewhat embarrassed glanced downward, where the bulge of his erection was plain to see.
He closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths. He was tantalized by her nearness, feeling the heat of her even through his jeans, and he knew that she wanted him as deeply as he wanted her, that if he took her, here and now as his body was urging, Catherine would join in with wild abandon.
"I love you, Catherine, and I wish to share that love with you. Fully. Completely." Sliding his hand up to the back of her neck, Vincent kissed her again, withholding nothing of what he was feeling. Catherine sighed deep in her throat and melted against him, snaking her arms over his shoulders and around his neck, twining her fingers in his hair. With a groan Vincent pulled away.
"But not here. Not now. Catherine - I want our first time together to be in our world. This world you have made here is beautiful, and I will cherish the memory of it always. But we have existed in the realm of dreams for far too long. Our loving needs to be rooted in our own world, yours and mine."
Catherine gazed for a long moment at Vincent, reading in his eyes how much this meant to him. He can't remember the time in the cave, when our child was conceived. Why did I never realize before that, for Vincent, this truly will be our first time? With a long, dramatic groan of disappointment that was only partly exaggerated, she leaned her forehead against his.
"All right, we'll wait." She ran one finger slowly along the fascinating curve of his upper lip. "But don't think this lets you off the hook," she warned him lightly. "I'm going to hold you to it." Though her words were teasing her gaze was wholly serious.
Vincent smiled, kissed her softly. "I promise," he whispered against her lips.
Catherine rested for a long moment in the warmth of his strong arms, then sat up and reluctantly slid off his lap. She reached for her discarded blouse and slipped it on, acutely aware of Vincent's eyes on her nudity. As she began to button it she was arrested by Vincent's hand reaching out to fasten on her own, stopping her motion.
"Wait," was all he said. Rising to his feet Vincent effortlessly pulled Catherine up to stand before him. He opened the leather bag hanging from his neck and shook out its contents. The carved rose she had given him for their first anniversary spilled out onto his palm, as did one other item.
"Vincent!" Catherine's eyes shone and she swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "My crystal!" she whispered. "I thought it was lost. I looked everywhere for it. Where did you find it?"
"On the floor of the cavern." There was no need, Vincent knew, to specify which cavern. Carefully straightening out a few kinks in the gold chain, Vincent placed it once more around Catherine's neck. The crystal pendant lay nestled between her breasts, gleaming faintly in the twilight.
"Finding it saved my life, I think," he continued. "I had gone there to try to remember, and to grieve, when suddenly I was confronted yet again with my dark side. He . . . taunted me with your death . . . with my aloneness." He gazed somberly at Catherine. Even after all the months that had passed he remembered with painful clarity the utter despair and rage which had seized him at the mocking words flung at him by the Other:
"Now there's only you - and me!"
"We fought. I felt myself growing weak, felt him overpowering me. Catherine, I had no real desire to continue struggling. Everything seemed hopeless. I had lost you, and the pain of that was greater than anything - anything - I had ever known. I felt myself sinking, when suddenly my hand touched the crystal. It was lying half-covered by dirt. Then, there came a brilliant light, and I heard your voice reminding me of our child. Catherine, I saw him - our son - silhouetted in that light, and I knew I must find him. At that moment the beast disappeared."
His eyes on hers were intent, luminous. "Always, you lead me out of the darkness, beloved."
He took one step forward and enfolded her in his arms. Catherine rubbed her face against his chest, savoring the softness of the long, wavy hair covering his powerful muscles, the smoky candle scent of his clothing that was so much a part of him. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, stroking his back, then suddenly hugged him hard.
Vincent tightened his arms and kissed the top of her head, and she shivered at the sensation of their naked torsos touching. He tilted her head up and slowly bent down and fastened his mouth on hers. Never had he kissed her with such confidence, such promise of delights yet to come. His tongue touched hers and Catherine felt her knees give way beneath her, while liquid fire scalded her veins. She staggered when the kiss ended, held onto him with hands grown weak.
"Vincent," she finally managed to say, "if you kiss me like that again I won't be responsible for my actions."
Vincent gazed at her with smoldering eyes and trailed one claw softly along her lips. "To remind you of my promise." His voice was low and rough, velvet over gravel. His hand left her face and briefly caressed her breasts before pulling the edges of her shirt together. Then, taking a deep breath he stepped back and fastened his own shirt, tucking it into his trousers as best he could without undoing them first. Catherine shakily followed suit. When both were done they stood for a moment in silence, gazing into each other's eyes.
"Well." Catherine cleared her throat. "I guess we'd better get back."
"Yes," agreed Vincent, then blinked, at a loss. "Have you any idea how to go about doing that?"
Catherine nodded solemnly. Vincent, waiting expectantly, failed to note the faint twinkle in her eye. She stepped forward and grasped his hands.
"Close your eyes," she instructed, then waited until Vincent had obeyed. "Now repeat after me. There's no place like home. There's no place - "
She was interrupted by a snort of surprised laughter. Opening his eyes Vincent attempted a reproachful look, but at the sight of her grinning face quickly gave up the unequal struggle and joined in her laughter.
"Seriously, Catherine," Vincent finally said, though the corners of his mouth still twitched.
Catherine sobered too and nodded. "Seriously, yes, I do know how to get us back. It's simple, really. I almost managed it a couple of times." She hesitated then, affecting a sudden, intense interest in a nearby bush and avoiding Vincent's eyes.
He cocked his head. "If it is so easy why haven't you come back before this?" he asked softly.
Catherine looked down. "Because I was a coward." Vincent had to strain to hear her. Suddenly she turned to him and he was astonished to see that her eyes were filled with shame.
"The only way to return is to pass through my memories, to relive them - and I didn't have the courage to do it alone. That's why I began trying to reach you, Vincent. I knew that if you were with me I would have the extra strength I needed. It was selfish of me, I know. I'm sorry."
She seemed on the verge of tears. Vincent gathered her into his arms. "Catherine, you need never apologize for asking my help. You must know that I would travel to the ends of the earth - to hell itself - for you." He stroked her tousled hair, felt a small sob quiver through her.
He went on. "You have always faced your fears. How can you blame yourself for not being able to stand up to them this once? Catherine, I can only guess at your suffering during those long months." He tilted her head back to look at her. "I would not willingly go through my own agony again. Do you think I could blame you for feeling the same way?"
He bent down to kiss away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes, then touched his mouth to hers in a delicate, infinitely tender, caress which held little of passion but all that was of love and comfort and understanding and healing.
Catherine sighed as the kiss ended and stood quietly in the warm comfort of his arms, allowing his love and acceptance to flow into the farthest reaches of her being. Then she stepped out of that loving circle. Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly and said, simply -
"Let's go."