Chapter Five

Vincent's head snapped up and he stared into Catherine's eyes, more puzzled than really shocked as he found them twinkling with mirth, their connection suddenly alive with happy mischief.

"Catherine?" he asked in wonder.

The corners of her mouth curved up in an impish smile;

"Now, it's my turn!"

"Your turn?"

"Definitely!" she grinned to his bemused face, rubbing herself sensuously against his aroused body. "You loved me in a most wonderful way, Vincent, and then ran away without giving me a chance to do the same for you. I ask for reciprocity!"

He shook his head, a bit lost.

"Catherine, it was wonderful for me, too! You don't have to…"

Catherine's happy surprise bubbled over in the bond.

"Wonderful?" she asked, her eyes shining. Only then did Vincent realize he had not once evoked the pleasure they had shared, instead dwelling on blood, violence, and shame...

He gazed deep into Catherine's eyes. "Beyond all my dreams." he husked.

A wave of deep joy inundated the bond. "Beyond mine, too." she answered simply, and for a few seconds they just held each other, allowing the memories to flow back with full strength. The miraculous merging of both bodies and souls, the whirling sensations, the dizzying rapture as they moved together, and the glorious, shared release. Instinctively their bodies sought each other, craving their rightful, long denied and finally found oneness.

Vincent felt Catherine's frustration echo his as she reluctantly pulled away. "We're...digressing, my love." A touch of mischief came back as she went on. "You're not going to get away with it so easily, you know! Fair is fair, Vincent. You had your way with me, now it's my turn!"

Beneath the playful banter he could clearly discern a serious undertone. There was more to it than Catherine said. Somehow he felt this was important to her, and that settled it. "Do with me what you will, Catherine, I’m yours."

He was rewarded with a beaming smile and a wave of happy anticipation. Without warning she rolled him to his back and pushed the cloak apart, exposing them to the chilly air.

"You'll be cold, Catherine!" he objected, taken by surprise by her enthusiasm.

Her eyes traveled over his body in a possessive, intimate caress, from the tip of his toes up the length of his legs, again lingering for a while on his hard, yearning flesh until he moaned under the almost physical sensation her gaze caused him, then up along his torso and neck to meet his own eyes. "I don't think so." she finally answered in a low, sultry, slightly breathless voice.

She just knelt beside him for a while, not touching him except with her eyes, their connection humming with her love, her desire, and a silent, tantalizing promise. Vincent felt himself tremble, contradictory feelings fighting inside him.

He wanted her. Now. His deepest instincts were urging him to grab Catherine, roll her on her back and ram himself into her. He longed to possess her, feel her tight flesh enclosing him again and lose himself into her warm, welcoming body. A demanding hunger was snarling inside him, and his resolve to go slowly was getting weaker by the second, melting under that raging fire. Yet he didn't move, finding the control he needed in their connection, in Catherine's unspoken demand that he lie still, and wait. Her needs were more important to him than his own, and he finally relaxed, breathing deeply.

He was beginning to understand the reason for Catherine's choice, and saw the wisdom of it. For all his intellectual realization he needed that final reassurance, and she knew it. She was proving to him that he could surrender the lead, silence his primal tendency to dominance.

He hadn't expected to find it so easy, and not only so because the bond told him this was what Catherine wanted. He discovered with mild surprise that part of him wanted it, too, that there was a deep, thrilling pleasure to be found in lying there, totally submissive, waiting for her touch, and he was eager to find out what other wonders she had in store for him.

She leaned slowly toward him, approaching until her face almost touched his. "I love you, Vincent." she breathed against his lips, before taking them in a sweet, tender kiss. She lingered on his mouth for a long time, discovering it leisurely and most thoroughly with soft, light touches of her lips and tongue. She traced the smooth contours of his teeth and gently probed their sharp tip, explored the ridges of his palate, and tenderly caressed the raspy surface of his tongue. She sucked and nipped at his full lower lip before turning her attention to the intriguing cleft on his upper lip. When she slipped her tongue inside, Vincent gasped in sharp surprised pleasure, and his arms came around her to pull her closer.

Catherine disengaged herself gently and guided his arms back to his sides, making it clear that she wanted him to lie still. Then, after laying a last, lingering kiss on his lips, she let her mouth wander on his face, tracing his features with a loving insistence. Only when every inch had been duly kissed did she move to nuzzle his neck, edging slowly lower.

Vincent could hardly believe this wasn't a dream, and dared hardly breathe for fear it might go away. He fleetingly remembered the time when, while he was watching the sunrise in the park, a bird, lured by his perfect stillness, had landed on his shoulder, and he had remained long minutes without even breathing, mesmerized by the pretty, fragile creature, not wanting it to fly away…But Catherine was not going to fly away, he reminded himself. Her touch was soft and delicate, but there was no shyness in it, and Vincent relaxed, opening himself fully to all the sensations assailing him. Catherine's touch on him was pure bliss, the answer to a prayer, the assuaging of a lifelong craving, and he revelled in it. Yet even more wonderful to him was her own delighted pleasure, flowing freely through the bond as her hands and mouth started a slow exploration of his chest.

In his dreams, he'd always been the one loving her, worshipping her body, he'd never assumed Catherine could do more than accept his own, out of love and despite his differences. Vincent understood how he had underestimated her…or maybe himself. Her feelings as she kissed his mouth, his face, had left no doubt that his differences were not in the least unpleasant to her. Focusing on their connection, he let Catherine's eyes, Catherine's touch, Catherine's pleasure lead him into a slow discovery of his own body.

The fur covering his chest, more abundant there than in any other place, had been a source of shame to him ever since puberty had changed the downy hair of his childhood into that thick mat. He now found out that it was soft and silky, as Catherine's hands ran delightedly through it, her fingers playing with the springy curls. She rubbed her face against him, inhaling the scent of his skin.

His scent…Vincent's sensitive nostrils had always told him it was different from those of the people around him, and he'd done his best to hide its musky wildness by bathing frequently and hiding himself under multiple layers of clothing, even though his fur was a good protection against the cold. One more difference that Catherine didn't find offensive. If truth be told she even seemed to find it…arousing! He could feel her mounting excitement as she nuzzled in his fur, breathing deeply. They both gasped with surprise when her questing fingers encountered a hidden nipple lost in the silky hair. She examined it for a while, teasing it lightly first with her finger, then with her tongue. Vincent sensed her delight to feel it harden under her touch, and when she covered it with her mouth and suckled hard, he moaned out loud, surprised by the sharp pleasure that radiated throughout his body, to finally center in his already aching groin. His desire flared anew, threatening to overwhelm them both. A soothing wave through the bond calmed his frustration as Catherine's mouth left him, and he took a few deep breaths, not wanting it to end too soon either.

Catherine's hands roamed over his torso and shoulders, measuring the width of them, assessing the hardness of his muscles, and Vincent couldn't help a touch of pride as he felt her openly covetous admiration through the bond. His strength was something he'd often had mixed feelings about, something he was both proud and wary of. A valuable asset in the tunnels, where sheer muscle power was frequently needed, it was appreciated Below, and much relied upon, but still was one more difference, one more thing that set him apart. Something he'd learned to control, and never display without necessity. His strength also allowed him to protect those he loved, and for that he was grateful, despite what it cost him. He'd never thought of it as attractive, though, and marveled at Catherine's growing arousal as she caressed and kneaded his muscles. When her hands slid over his biceps, he instinctively flexed them, for the smug pleasure of hearing her delighted whimper as they swelled and hardened beneath her palms, a bit surprised to find himself so pleased that Catherine loved his strength.

Vincent had always been aware, and even secretly proud, that his body was strong, agile and reliable. Now Catherine's every gesture, every feeling, enforced the belief that it was also beautiful and desirable, and he reveled in her eagerness as her hands, her mouth took possession of him, exploring his sides, his stomach, his legs with loving thoroughness. He didn't feel frustrated that she carefully avoided the place where he needed her touch most. He knew that would come, in its own time. For now Vincent felt utterly loved, and cherished, in total harmony with … Catherine's sudden surprise flashed through the bond, and her hands came back on his chest, the intrigued look on her face soon giving way to a beaming grin, her delight washing over him.

"You're purring, my love!" Only then did he become conscious of the low, rumbling vibration coming from his throat. One more thing he'd forbidden himself to do for many years, one more difference he'd tried to negate…No more!

Smiling back, Vincent purred louder, deeply enjoying the long-forgotten sensation. Catherine snuggled close to him, nestling her face in the curve of his neck, and he sensed her mounting arousal as the pleasurable, almost erotic vibration communicated itself to her body. He closed his arms around her, and for a short while they remained still, allowing the sensually tender pleasure to feed their mutual desire, until it flared with full intensity again.

Vincent's arms tightened around Catherine's body, and his mouth captured hers for a hungry, demanding kiss. He slipped one of his legs between hers and she moaned, rubbing herself on his thigh, as his hips thrust against her. Now, Catherine!

Catherine abruptly ended the kiss and pulled away from Vincent's arms, to loom over him again, wanton and wild, devouring him with darkened, almost predatory eyes. Vincent could hardly believe what he sensed in her. That raw hunger, that burning need, that feral, impatient possessiveness were feelings he knew all too well for having fought them so often. Feelings he had loathed and feared in himself, and it shook him to the core to find out that Catherine, too, could be....a Beast?

As it first sprang to his mind the word struck him as a blasphemy, yet he didn’t reject it. For, underlying the wildness, inseparable from it, he also felt her steadfast, all-encompassing love, and with love, all things were possible. For now, Catherine was his beloved Beast... and he was her Beauty, as her admiring, adoring looks had made clear. Love made it all right to be a Beast, sometimes...all right for Catherine, and...yes, all right for him, too, he finally admitted, because he no more doubted he was a man. Thrilled and eager, Vincent lay there, waiting, willing prey to his fierce, if tiny, predator.

Catherine nodded her approval, a smile uncovering the gleam of her teeth in the dancing light. Her gaze drifted down his torso to his swollen, throbbing flesh, and hunger flashed through the bond as her tongue stole out to lick her lips. Vincent gasped in answer and his erection lifted slightly from his body, straining toward her, calling out for her touch.

With a groan she buried her face against him. Vincent felt her deep, primal pleasure as she breathed in his scent, nuzzling for more. That, and the incredible feel of her cheek rubbing against his sensitive flesh, were almost his undoing. He fought for control, resisting the need to thrust against her, seek the friction that would bring the release he felt looming close. Not yet.

Catherine began to lay soft kisses on the smooth, tempting column. Soon her tongue flicked out to seek his taste, her teeth teasingly testing the hardness of him, and her hands joined in to caress and knead, searching for sensitive, hidden places.

Vincent could no longer stop the rumbling growls in his chest as his beloved's mouth and hands roamed over his flesh. When her lips opened to engulf him, and he felt himself enclosed in liquid warmth, caressed by the swirling movements of her tongue, he cried out loud. Even in his boldest dreams, he’d never dared imagine that Catherine would want to do such things to him. The utter eroticism of it added to the wild sensations shattered the remains of his control. With a snarling moan he flexed his hips to thrust in her mouth. His hand came to enclose the nape of her neck, to hold her still as he thrust again, and again, feeling the pleasure build up in his loins. So close, now...

Vincent growled in frustration when Catherine’s hands gently pressed against his hips, stilling his movement, and she lifted her head, leaving his wet, burning flesh exposed to the cold air.

"I'm sorry, Vincent,"

He looked up at her, suddenly anguished that, despite what he had sensed through their bond, he might have done something unacceptable.

Catherine’s husky, breathless words reassured him. "I can't wait any more. I want you now!"

"Don't." She stared at him, startled, and saw a hint of a smile on his tense face. "Don't…be sorry!"

With a giggling whimper she eagerly straddled him and raised herself on her knees. When she grasped his erection to guide it to her yearning center, when the heat of her caressed its throbbing, sensitive tip, Vincent lifted his head to stare at that incredible sight, and felt a fleeting uncertainty. He looked almost impossibly big in Catherine’s tiny hand! How could that iron-hard, thick, swollen shaft penetrate his beloved’s delicate body without hurting her?

Catherine had no such doubts. Slowly, but without hesitation, she lowered herself on him, and Vincent’s misgivings were swept away by a storm of rapturous sensations, both Catherine's and his, as he fascinatedly watched himself sink into her until he was entirely buried in her welcoming body.

Yes! This was where he wanted to be! This was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life. This was where he wanted to die! Catherine was everywhere, her flesh tight and hot around his, her love and pleasure filling their connection, her body, flushed pink with her arousal, undulating under his eyes, and Vincent pulled her down to merge his soul with hers in a long deep kiss.

Again they were one, and despite their burning need they lingered for a little while on that renewed miracle, their gazes locked on each other’s. Caresses and kisses were given and received in total sharing, words of love spoken in a single voice, carried on a single breath.

Catherine began rocking gently on Vincent, her movements gradually intensifying as their shared arousal flared again. His hands found her breasts, his fingers teasing the tightened tips, while hers slipped behind her back to caress the rounded softness of his testes, still enhancing their fast escalating pleasure.

There was no holding back now, they were too far gone. Vincent’s hips flexed strongly to meet Catherine’s movements, both welcoming the increased friction as they moved together in perfect harmony, the rapturous tension building up higher and higher. As the approach of completion made Catherine’s legs tremble, and their rhythm faltered, Vincent took over, grasping her hips to support her as his steady, powerful thrusts brought them fast to the brink of orgasm. They teetered on the edge, gazing into each other’s soul.

Now. Forever.

One last, deep stroke sent them soaring. The erotic sounds of the lovers' shared ecstasy filled the huge, silent cavern, reverberating on the dark water as their arched bodies shook with matched, rhythmic spasms. They clung together for a long time, swept up in a storm of wild sensations, until the last of Vincent’s seed had been claimed by Catherine’s eager body, and they finally relaxed, sated and utterly spent.

Much too happy for words, they snuggled blissfully in each other’s warmth, soon overcome by an irresistible drowsiness as the emotional and physical strain of the last hours caught up with them with a vengeance. Settling comfortably on Vincent’s wide chest, Catherine quickly drifted into sleep, and, before he joined her, his last semi-conscious gesture was to grasp the edges of the cloak and pull the heavy material over his beloved to protect her from the cold.

Together, they slept.