The following Friday afternoon, Catherine managed to leave work early. She sat curled up on her couch sipping a cup of coffee while mentally going over everything she had done to assure a perfect evening. Vincent had suggested he visit her Above instead of having her come Below again. She could scarcely believe it. He was going to enter her apartment knowing full well what would probably happen.
Catherine smiled to herself when she thought of the purchase she had made on her lunch break the day before. No pajamas this time. Tonight was the night! Tonight, if she had any say in the matter at all, they would make love for real.
Catherine shivered with delicious memories. They had spent several hours together Wednesday night in their special place and once more, when visions of making love to her invaded his dreams, she had helped Vincent achieve a physical release. Catherine was pleased that he had not been nearly so upset afterward.
When he walked her to their threshold to say goodnight, once more using his cloak to hide the evidence of his passion, Catherine was extremely pleased when he suggested he visit her on Friday evening. Barely able to contain her excitement, she had suggested a late dinner and Vincent had readily agreed. The next two days were then spent making preparations for what she hoped would be a very special night.
Catherine took another long look around the apartment. Everything seemed ready. Dinner would be simple. Broiled steaks, baked potatoes, salad and for desert a scrumptious cheese cake from her favorite deli.
The apartment was spotless. It should be. She had cleaned it from top to bottom. Twice! The bedroom was filled with candles just waiting to be lit and a slinky blue silk nightgown hung in the closet just waiting to entice. Tonight she would be more than friend and lover. Tonight, Catherine planned on being a seductress.
She heard a light familiar tapping at her terrace door and Catherine flew into Vincent’s waiting arms. His kiss was passionate, but she forced herself to withdraw from his embrace. They had all night and Catherine wanted to go slow and easy, hoping she would not shock him too badly when she pulled her surprise on him later.
“You’re just in time, Vincent. Dinner is almost ready. Please come in.” She tugged firmly on his hand and was delighted that he showed no hesitation before stepping into her livingroom and following her into the kitchen.
They sat across from one another at the kitchen table making small talk and pretending to eat. Catherine reached out every few minutes to touch him as though assuring herself that he was really there. She was almost afraid she’d awaken any moment to discover it was all a dream like so many times before. Reaching across the table, Vincent gave her small hand a squeeze.
“This isn’t a dream, Catherine.” He gave her a tiny, knowing smile. “Not this time.” He squeezed her hand again. “This time it’s real.” Catherine smiled happily.
They finished their meal quickly, both suddenly hungry
and eager to get this part of the evening over with. As they were
washing dishes, Vincent found himself bombarded with emotions he had never
before felt in her. He knew what she was hoping for tonight - a true
consummation of their love.
Though still a little doubtful, Vincent was willing to wait and see where this night would take them. If it was going to happen, he would not avoid it. In fact, he thought it might just be time to take the final step in fulfilling their destiny; a destiny he once thought had begun that cool April night he found her in the park, but which Vincent was now certain had begun long before either of them had taken their first breath.
Catherine dried her hands on a towel as she watched him put away the last of the dishes. Vincent could feel her eyes on him and turned to smile at her. He’d been smiling a lot lately, she thought. And he had such a beautiful smile. The kind of smile that reached his eyes making them shine with a bright mysterious sparkle.
Catherine’s breath caught in her throat as she realized with sudden clarity that Vincent knew there was something different about this night. He knew it and he accepted it. He loved her and trusted her, but even more important, he trusted himself with her. Her voice was soft and husky with emotion.
“Excuse me for a minute, Vincent. I won’t be long.”
Vincent gazed around her livingroom, his eyes taking in all the personal items that belonged to the woman he loved. There were so many things - expensive things from people and places he would never know. They were like her; simple, elegant and beautiful. He sensed her presence as she joined him in the room, but did not turn to look at her.
“You have so many lovely things, Catherine.”
Catherine understood the words left unspoken. She had so much and he thought he could give her so little. She made a mental note to show him the collection of mementoes she kept hidden, but which meant more to her than all the expensive things he saw - the keepsakes he had given her during their three-year courtship.
“The only thing of beauty that matters to me in this room, Vincent, is you.”
Vincent turned and found himself gazing upon a sight that
made his heart pound. Catherine stood before him dressed in a pale blue
gown
that hugged her every curve. The snug bodice molded
her firm breasts and his eyes were drawn longingly to the crystal nestled
warm
and safe between them.
“Catherine. You’re . . .” His eyes devoured
her as she walked slowly toward him and wrapped her arms around him.
“Catherine, I . . .” He swallowed hard, as words
failed him.
“It’s all right, Vincent. You don’t have to say anything.” She cuddled against him, her face nuzzling softly against his chest. “The look in your eyes says everything.” Gazing back up at him, she whispered softly, “Come with me.”
Taking his hand, she led him into the bedroom. Vincent glanced around the room almost in awe. The bedroom was ablaze with candlelight. Fresh-cut roses filled several vases and their scent gently invaded the room and his senses. The bed was already turned down in shameless invitation.
“I can set the alarm in case we fall asleep, so you can leave before daylight. Promise me you won’t leave without waking me, though.”
“I had no idea you were limiting my time here with you, Catherine.”
“Vincent, I didn’t mean . . .” His blue eyes blazed with dancing lights in the glow of the candles.
“I know, Catherine.” His mouth brushed hers in a soft almost kiss that made her tremble. His eyes smiled teasingly. “I was not planning to leave you tonight. I told Father not to expect me home until sometime tomorrow evening. I would like to spend the night with you, if you’ll have me.”
Catherine leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, her face beaming with happiness.
“I’ve waited a long time to wake up in my bed wrapped in your arms, Vincent. I’d very much love to have you stay with me all night.” Catherine began slowly untying the lacings of his outer vest. She saw the fleeting look of doubt that filled his eyes and hastened to calm him.
“I thought maybe you could get comfortable, Vincent.” She stroked his face, her voice calm and assuring. “Don’t worry, love. Nothing will happen unless you want it to. I promise.”
Vincent grasped her hands and brought them to his lips for a kiss before sweeping her up in his arms to lay her on the bed. He removed his boots and vest, then sat down next to her. He reached out to touch the crystal and Catherine shivered as the fur on the back of his hands brushed against her skin.
Catherine leaned up to kiss him lightly, whispering, “Please, Vincent. Take this off, too.” Her hands tugged at his shirt. “Let me touch you tonight.”
Vincent nodded in silent surrender. He could not deny her request when he felt her need so deeply and when he desperately needed to feel the touch of her soft hands against his naked flesh. He pulled the shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor.
Catherine reached up to smooth his tawny hair. Her hands slid along the thin leather strips of the pouch he always wore around his neck. She pressed the pouch between her palm and his chest gently before removing it and placing it on her bedside table. She then removed her crystal and laid it on top of his rose.
Turning back to him, she cuddled into his embrace, her head resting on his bare chest, content for the moment to just feel the warmth of his body and allow the steady beating of his heart to soothe her.
“You feel so good, Vincent. I could hold you like this forever.”
“And I you, Catherine. And I you.”
With a deep contented sigh, he buried his face in
the top of her hair as his powerful hands caressed her back. The
feel of her satin smooth skin, bare and inviting his touch, sent his senses
reeling. She felt so soft, smelled so good and was so very
willing and eager to give him his heart’s desire. His body ached
to possess her, to make her truly his, though he knew beyond any doubt
she could not possibly belong to him any more than she already did.
Yet still he was hesitant. Catherine sensed this and made every attempt
to
remain patient.
“It’s all right, Vincent. We can just hold
each other, if that’s what you’d like.” Her hands cupped his face.
“I just want to be with you
tonight. That’s all I need. Having you here
with me like this tonight is more than I ever dared dream would happen.”
She caressed his cheek with her fingertips. “I can be satisfied
with holding you and having you hold me . . . for now.”
Vincent slipped from beneath her to lean over her. His eyes were filled with love and gratitude as he gazed tenderly down at her. Her arms wrapped around his neck to massage the warm skin beneath his hair as she pulled his head down for a long tender kiss. He returned her kiss, then stretched his long frame out next to her snuggling his head on her chest. Catherine buried her face in his sweet-smelling hair and allowed her hands a luxury she’d long dreamed of as she stroked and petted his broad lightly-furred shoulders and back.
Catherine held him close as she wondered at all the things that made up her Vincent. So many contradictions. He was larger than life, yet so accepted by those he lived among that he was at times taken for granted. He was soft and hard, sunshine and shadows, a calm sea and a raging storm all in one. Indeed, Vincent’s very existence was a contradiction. His sensitive soul and generous heart filled her with more love than she had ever known. He was the man she loved beyond anything imaginable. Her fingers combed through the dense fur that covered his spine and a low growl escaped his throat.
“You like that, don’t you?” The growl deepened as she continued her sensitive stroking. Her nails scraped beneath the fur to gently massage his spine for a moment, then returned once again to the silky fur on his chest she found so fascinating.
“You’re so soft, Vincent. You feel so good. Just like . . .” Catherine laughed softly as a childhood memory returned unbidden. Vincent nuzzled closer, enjoying the way the sound of her laughter vibrated against his cheek.
“What makes you laugh, Catherine?”
“A memory. One from my childhood.” Catherine continued her stroking and petting as she told him her story. “I must have been about six I guess. Mom and dad used to give dinner parties quite frequently. Daddy was always entertaining clients or prospective clients. Some of the women who came to the parties wore fur coats - expensive ones. Mom hated them. She was ahead of her time when it came to protesting against fur coats and never showed any favoritism. All the coats ended up in the spare bedroom on the bed , no matter how expensive they were.” She smiled as she remembered some of the reactions that used to get out of a few of the more snooty guests.
“I woke up while the party was in full swing and sneaked into the bedroom. I remember climbing onto the bed and digging my way under the pile of coats. I laid there for the longest time just rubbing my hands back and forth on the fur and hugging them.” Her hands began reliving her memory.
“It was like being in a cave surrounded by all this warm softness. I was too young to understand what the coats represented. I just knew they felt so good. Sort of like this.” Her hands continued their movements as her mind once more focused on the present. “Only this is even better.” She sighed deeply and wiggled playfully against him as he held her fast. “Because this fur coat has arms to hug back.” Catherine felt him tense. She tugged on his chin, forcing him to look at her.
“What is it, Vincent?” She saw the look of doubt
that filled
his eyes. “Did my comparing you to
a fur coat bother you?”
“A little.” His smile was shy, almost apologetic. “I am glad that you find my fur to your liking, Catherine, but it only serves to remind me of my many differences.”
Catherine decided it was time to exorcize his demons once
and for all. She was determined to rid Vincent of all his doubts
regarding his
“different” appearance. There was no room
for them in their relationship anymore. She gently rolled him over
to lie on top of him,
brushed his hair away from his face and held his
gaze fast.
“Now you listen to me, Vincent. You’re right about
being different.” Her fingers toyed with several silky strands of
long hair. “Let’s see now. Your hair is pretty much the same as any
other man’s. There’s just more of it.” Her fingers tangled
themselves in the thick waves and tugged gently. “I suppose you could
cut it, but I really wish you wouldn’t.” Still holding his hair with
one hand, she began tracing the outline of his sculptured face with the
other, beginning with his eyebrows.
“Your eyebrows are thicker than most men’s, but that could also easily be taken care of. Women do it all the time. It’s called tweezing. I’m giving you fair warning, though, it can hurt like hell sometimes and it gets to be a big nuisance.” Her fingertips brushed his eyelids.
“Your eyes are almost normal, except maybe for the shape . . . and the color.” Her voice grew soft. “They’re like a piece of the sky. And no one should be able to look into another person’s heart and soul the way you can, Vincent, but that’s easily taken care of, too. You could just stop caring so much about the people around you. Starting with me of course.” Catherine felt his mood change as he allowed himself to be caught up in her light-hearted teasing.
“That could never happen, Catherine.” His eyes pinned her with a look that dared her to contradict him. “Never!”
“That’s nice to hear. Now, where were we? Oh, yes.” She began once more going over the list of his differences. “There’s your nose.” Her eyes fairly glowed with mischief. “Now that’s definitely different. You’re the first man I’ve ever met who had a fuzzy nose.” She leaned down to nuzzle it. “If memory serves me, we’ve already determined that your furry nose is no problem whatsoever.” She nuzzled it again. “I suppose you could shave it, though, if you wanted it to look normal.”
Vincent’s ‘different’ eyebrows arched sharply at that suggestion. Catherine ignored his reaction and turned her attention to his exotic mouth.
“Then there’s your mouth.” She brushed his mouth with her lips. “Your soft, warm, tasty mouth.” She kissed him deeply, letting her tongue finish her inventory of things ‘different.’
“Hmm . . . nice. I love your mouth, Vincent.” She reached for his hands.
“Your hands are probably the one thing that’s really different about your body.” She rubbed her hands across his chest. “At least from what I’ve seen of it so far.” Her smile turned wicked and Vincent was unable to control the trembling her touch caused.
“I’ve told you before that I think your hands are beautiful. They’re my hands.” She kissed him again. “So, unless you have some differences I’m not aware of, I don’t want to hear any more doubts from you. I love you, Vincent. I love your eyes, and I love your nose, and I love your mouth.” Catherine punctuated every ‘I love you’ with a kiss to each of his differences named.
“I love the way you purr when you’re contented and I love your fur. All these differences are what make you who you are and what you are - a very special, unique man. The man I love with all my heart.” She kissed him soundly and wiggled against him.
“While we’re on the subject, there is one very special difference you have that absolutely drives me wild.” A light blazed from the bottomless depth of his eyes and Vincent felt passion once more consume him.
“And what difference would that be, Catherine?”
Vincent did not wait for an answer. None was needed. The same blaze of passion flared in her eyes and reached out to engulf him. The soft fur on his chest caressed the swell of her breasts as he rolled on top of her and kissed her deeply. Catherine moaned loudly, her hands moving down to fumble with his belt buckle.
“Vincent, please take these off.” He tensed slightly and pulled back to look down at her as she continued her heartbeat plea. “We could both get undressed.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. “I want to feel all of you against me. I want to touch all of you.” Vincent’s eyes filled with the pain he felt at not being able to grant her request. Catherine nodded in understanding.
“It’s all right, love. It’s all right. We can take more time. I just . . .” She shook her head to drive back the threatened tears and held him tighter. “Love me then, Vincent. Love me as only you can.”
Once more his gentle caresses and tender kisses brought her a pleasure like none she had ever known. His loving was as special and unique as he, but still Catherine longed to experience a true joining between them. She desperately wanted him to experience the complete joy of being one with her. She wanted Vincent to know his own pleasure, not just that which he shared with her through their bond. His body weighed heavily upon hers, a weight Catherine gloried in as she held him to her, one silent thought going through her mind over and over.
‘Next time, Vincent. Next time.’