How Shall I Love Thee, Catherine??
By Barbara Hill ~ Part 8

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       Catherine pulled out a large container of chicken from the picnic basket and  placed it on  the blanket between them.  She glanced up to find Vincent watching  her intently, his blue eyes still ablaze with desire.  Pushing the bowl toward him,  she laughed softly.
      “Get that look off your face, Vincent.  I need nourishment.  Food!”  Once again reaching  into the basket, she pulled out a small wedge of cheese and held it up  for him.  “So do you if we’re planning on spending the night here.”  Her green eyes teased him gently.  “You’ll need to keep up your strength.”
      Vincent took the piece of cheese, his mouth engulfing the tips of her fingers    while his tongue licked across them sensually before removing it.  Leaning back he chewed slowly and pinned her with a look that made her toes curl.
      Vincent picked up a piece of chicken and began tearing it apart.  Holding her gaze unblinkingly, he held out a small piece to her.  Catherine’s eyes danced with  delight as she leaned forward to take it, then sat back patiently waiting for him to  offer her another bite.  He finished feeding her the chicken piece by piece then  reached for a napkin.
      Catherine grabbed his hand, pulling it to her mouth and began slowly licking the tips of his fingers.  Vincent tensed visibly as her actions sent a sensation of heat that centered in the very core of his manhood.  The look of longing in his eyes, almost a permanent part of him these past few days, flared instantly.
      Catherine took a deep breath to steady her own raging emotions and reached for a piece of chicken to feed him.  She watched with amazement as Vincent’s  mouth devoured the chicken along with her fingers.  His mouth lingered for a  long moment before releasing them and the tips of his sharp canines scraped  gently, teasingly the length of her fingers.  Every bite she fed him was eaten  slowly as he held her fingers captive a bit longer each time.  When the chicken  had been eaten, Vincent returned the favor and licked her fingers clean.
      Catherine watched him, trying desperately to keep her raging hormones in check since she was almost certain that giving in to her desire to tackle him and  have her own way with him would most likely serve only to shock him into  running like a scared rabbit.  It was too early in  this new-found relationship they  shared for that.  Her eyes could not tear themselves away from his, and she  suddenly found it getting very warm.  She coughed as her throat constricted  slightly and her mouth grew dry under Vincent’s intense scrutiny.
      Vincent poured a cup of water, handing it to her.  Catherine took a few sips and handed it back to him.  She watched in stunned silence as he turned the cup  around to deliberately drink from the same side she had.  Swallowing the lump  that filled her throat, she tried talking only to discover that it was almost  impossible.
      “William sent . . .”  Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat and tried again.  “William sent some of his delicious pasta salad.  Would you like to try some?”  Feeding the salad to him with her fingers might prove to be somewhat  messy, but Catherine was more than willing to give it a try.  Especially since it  would afford him an excuse to once more ‘clean’ her fingers.  Her body shivered  with expectation at the thought.   Vincent placed the canteen and the cup in the  basket and slid it to one corner of the blanket.  Taking her hand in his, he pulled  her across his lap, cradling her head in the crook of his arm.
      “Perhaps later, Catherine.  I’m suddenly not hungry anymore . . . at least not for food.”
      His mouth claimed hers passionately as she entangled her hands through the thick tawny tresses she loved so much.  She felt a slight twinge of  disappointment that she was unable to play with the soft downy curls that had  been such a source of delight.  Tonight her hands had to be content with the silky  waves that framed Vincent’s face instead, and as wonderful as it was, it was no match for the combination of curls and warm skin his bare chest offered.
      Vincent lowered her slowly to the ground, stretching out beside her.  He buried his face in the open neck of her pajamas.  Catherine giggled lightly.
      “That tickles, Vincent.”
      Vincent leaned up to gaze down at her, his eyes filled with curiosity.
      “What tickles, Catherine?”
      Her fingers trailed slowly down the length of his broad nose, across the top part of his mouth, down to the narrow chin and back up to his nose.  She so loved the feel of him.
      “This tickles.”  She rubbed her fingers against his chin.  “But don’t worry.  It’s a nice tickle.  I like it.”
      A bright gleam sparkled in his eyes as Vincent lowered his head to tease her  beautiful face with the tip of his nose.  Starting at the top of her forehead he made  a complete circle around her face, pausing to give special attention to the scar  just beneath her left ear before continuing a   path down the bridge of her nose to  her mouth.  Catherine kissed his nose as it lingered above her  mouth a moment  before sliding down to her chin.  She giggled again as Vincent playfully nuzzled  her there before continuing his journey.
      He came to the hollow of her throat and Catherine threw her head back to allow him easier access.  Vincent’s eyes were drawn downward to the enticing cut of her top and the inviting sight of creamy bare skin exposed to his hungry  eyes.  His head lowered, drawn by her soft femininity.  With a sudden rush of will  power, he pulled himself away from the bewitching sight as her name was ripped  from his lips in a cry of anguish.
      “Catherine, I . . .”  His voice broke through her soaring passion and Catherine  clasped him to her, surprised at the emotional pain she felt engulfing him.
      “Vincent, what is it?  What’s wrong?”  Her hands stroked his back and shoulders encouraging him to open up to her even more.
      “Please, Vincent.  No more doubts.  This is right between us.  We both know it is.”
      “No, Catherine, it isn’t that.”  He pulled himself up to look at her.
      “Please believe me.  I have no doubts about the rightness of our love.  Not anymore.”
      Vincent’s gaze once again wandered lower to the satin smooth skin that seemed to almost call aloud to him, inviting his touch, demanding his attention.  Catherine shivered as she felt the soft fur of his nose brush against the hollow of  her breasts for a brief moment before he gazed  back up at her, his eyes pleading.
      “What, Vincent?  What is it you want?  What do you need?  Please tell me.  I need to know.”
      “You, Catherine.”  His voice was a mere whisper as his eyes wandered once  again to the object of his desire, this time drawing even closer to the twin  mounds of soft round flesh that poked provocatively through the silky material.
      “But I shouldn’t want . . .”
      Catherine realized suddenly what he meant.  Stroking his hair, she whispered,  “Please, Vincent.  Tell me what you want.”  She knew for certain what his answer  would be, but needed to hear him say the words aloud; needed to hear him allow  himself the right to his desires.
      “You have every right to want it, Vincent.  You deserve it.  You deserve  everything.”
     The familiar words had the desired effect.  With a deep sigh, Vincent gave his  thoughts freedom.  A hoarse whisper escaped his lips.
      “I want to touch you, Catherine.”  He buried his face in her neck.  “I need to touch you, but . . .”
      Catherine took his face in her hands, gazing deep into his eyes.  Her voice  was gentle, but filled with conviction.
      “No, Vincent.  What you’re feeling is not wrong.  You can touch me.  You have the right. I give you that right.”  She kissed him tenderly.  “I want you to touch me,  Vincent.  I need you to touch me.  Really touch me.”  Slowly she unbuttoned the  top of her pajamas.
      Vincent moved over her and Catherine took a deep breath, knowing it might well be her last for a while.  She waited anxiously for the touch of his hand on her  breast and was taken completely by surprise when she felt one hand creep under  her to support her back while the other one grasped her shoulder.  She wondered  vaguely how he was going to touch her with his hands holding her like this?
      Her mind reeled with delight as Vincent found his own unique manner of  ‘touching’ her.
     His nose nestled between the lapels of her pajama top and began nuzzling  with complete abandonment until the shirt fell open to reveal her firm breasts.
      Catherine gasped with pleasure and held him tighter as Vincent continued   nuzzling a part of her he’d dare only touch in his dreams.  The fur on his nose  tickled deliciously as he moved back and forth between her breasts.  Low  growling noises that sounded immensely satisfying rumbled from his chest and  served to fuel the fire already raging through her body.  She felt his swollen  manhood trapped between them and her body responded instantly, eagerly.
      “Oh, god!  Yes, Vincent!  Yes!”
      Just when she thought she had experienced pleasure beyond anything she  could possibly imagine, his furry nose found its way to the tip of her breast and  teased it gently.  Catherine screamed aloud with sheer ecstasy as his mouth captured the hardened nipple, suckling eagerly until her body trembled with a  force she’d never before experienced.  With his hands holding her perfectly still,  Vincent brought her to a climax that left Catherine shaking uncontrollably.
      His face continued its nuzzling and his mouth its gentle attack on her breasts  until she felt him tense with his own form of release and he once more collapsed  against her heavily.  His arms wrapped around her to hold her close as he  burrowed his face into the warm valley between her breasts and sighed  contentedly.
      The steady beating of their hearts echoing in the still chamber lulled them to sleep.  The sated lovers slept through the night wrapped in each other’s loving  embrace, their sleep filled with sweet erotic dreams of one another.