Crystal Clear
J Ecris
Their relationship had come so far in the few weeks since Christmas, when Catherine had told Vincent everything she wanted from their relationship. She had been patient and loving with him as he had worked through his doubts and fears.
She hadn’t rushed him as he had begun to grow accustomed to their kisses and caresses. He had come to realize that he no longer needed to worry about hurting her. He’d lost control of himself a number of times already and nothing had happened that could be construed as even remotely bad, and in the end he did regain his control, to Catherine’s frustration.
His family Below had been very supportive, encouraging even, if one took into account the incident with the mistletoe and now the Valentine’s Day concert the children were planning. He wasn’t supposed to know that he and Catherine were the guests of honor. Father was still something of a problem, and Vincent had tried to avoid spending much time alone with him.
Catherine had convinced him on New Year’s Eve that he needn’t worry about keeping her from the life she was meant to have. Accompanying her to the masquerade ball at Jenny’s company was an experience he would treasure forever.
Altogether, the past weeks, apart from being the happiest and most pleasurable of his life, had also provided an enormous boost to his self-image. The fact that Catherine found joy in his every touch had not yet ceased to surprise him. He felt his confidence increasing, and remarkably, his love for Catherine growing. Her love had completely filled him before. He wouldn’t have thought it possible that it could increase, but it had expanded by acquiring an additional dimension.
Vincent marveled at how wonderful he felt as he walked Catherine home. It had always been so difficult to part from her, but goodbyes were easier now that joyful anticipation filled them both. They realized it was only a matter of time until their dreams came true.
“Catherine, I’d like to tell you something.” She smiled and squeezed his arm. “Knowing how you feel about me, that... you want me... fills me with joy.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “But more than that, for the first time in my life I feel...” He paused and spread his hands. “Special,” he finished shyly. “In a good way, I mean.”
Catherine was happy he felt this way, but also sad that someone as extraordinary as Vincent had never felt special before. “I’m glad you feel special, Vincent. You’re the most special person I have ever met, and I’m not referring to the obvious external differences. You’re so kind and caring and compassionate, so gentle and loving. You can’t know how rare that is.”
Vincent lowered his eyes, embarrassed, shaking his head.
“No, truly, Vincent, you’re a remarkable person. I feel honored to know you, and blessed that you love me.”
Vincent was speechless and feeling even more special. They walked in silence for a few moments, and then he asked, “Catherine, does... knowing I want you have the same effect on you?”
Catherine smiled, amused. “Well, yes, but Vincent I’ve known for quite a long time that you want me. The indicators were very subtle, but still noticeable.”
Vincent was surprised. “Catherine, I’m sorry. I only meant to give you subtle hints that I love you.”
“Vincent, with romantic love, love and want are one and the same.” Vincent looked troubled and she continued. “I knew what a struggle these feelings were for you, Vincent, so I didn’t mention it. I hoped for a long time that you would come to terms with your feelings on your own.”
“Catherine, when did you realize...?”
“That first night you came to visit me on my balcony.”
Vincent looked stricken. “Catherine, you must have been so frightened. Please forgive me.”
“I wasn’t frightened, Vincent. You had been nothing but kind to me. Why would I be afraid of you?”
“Repulsed then.”
Catherine sighed. “Vincent, you are not the first man to want me. Between my looks and my money, there have been any number of men who let me know in no uncertain terms that they wanted me. I got used to men wanting me a long time ago. I learned to accept it without thinking about whether I wanted them in return. And believe me, Vincent, there were many of them I would have been repulsed by if I’d let my thoughts stray in that direction.
“I didn’t consider then whether I was attracted you. But I came to realize soon enough that I did love you, that I did want you.”
He still looked as if he were inwardly chastising himself, and he did not meet her eyes. “Vincent, as I said, the indicators were subtle. If I weren’t used to so much male attention, I might not even have noticed,” she white-lied. “Well, not until our first anniversary anyway.”
Vincent looked at her, alarmed. “What did I do on our first anniversary?” he asked worriedly.
“You gave me my crystal.”
Vincent was mystified. He couldn’t remember anything amiss with the crystal. He reached out his fingers, pulling the chain from inside Catherine’s sweater to examine it, as he asked, “Was there something wrong with it, Catherine?”
“No, Vincent, it’s perfect,” she said as he turned it over slowly. “But someone as well read as you must be aware of the symbolic meaning of such a gift.”
He met her eyes in surprise and then looked back at the crystal for an instant before dropping it as if it were on fire. “I... I... I’m sorry, Catherine. I never meant to...”
“It’s all right, Vincent. By then I had begun to want you too. “The meaning of my gift must have been clear to you as well.”
He stole a glance at her. “I... hoped.”
She smiled warmly. “And now you know.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, and feeling the need to explain himself, continued, “Catherine, I did not choose the crystal because of its shape, but... I didn’t reject it because of its shape either.” He looked a little sheepish.
“I love my crystal, Vincent. It’s beautiful,” she said sincerely. “You know,” she went on, trying to lighten his mood, “I’ve seen crystals for sale in shops, but rarely have I seen one as large as this one,” she said mischievously.
Vincent’s jaw dropped as his eyes widened, and he exclaimed, “Catherine!” as embarrassment washed over him.
Catherine chuckled. It was so wonderful to be able to tease him!
“I did not choose the crystal because of its size either, Catherine.”
“But you didn’t reject it because of its size either,” she teased.
He looked at her for a moment, smiling in surrender. “Perhaps we should change the subject, Catherine,” Vincent said as he took her arm and began to walk again.
She laughed again and acquiesced. Vincent was still a little flustered and did not say anything further. Catherine was enjoying his discomfort just a little too much, and finally she decided to steer the conversation back in a serious direction. “Vincent, I have something I’d like to tell you too.” He sought her eyes but said nothing.
“When I said before that I felt blessed that you love me, I truly meant it. You are an extraordinary judge of character, and that you love me... it means everything to me.”
Vincent shook his head, “Catherine, you could have virtually any man you wanted, and he would feel lucky to be yours.”
“Without meaning to sound arrogant, I won’t argue with that statement, but Vincent, don’t you see? All of those other men don’t want me for me. They don’t care about who I am. All they see is that I’m beautiful and I’m rich. You were the first man who’s ever wanted to get to know me just because I’m me, the first man who I could really be sure didn’t care at all about my money or my looks. To be loved for who I am....” She sighed. “Thank you, Vincent.”
“To be loved for who I am,” Vincent repeated in a whisper. “Thank you, Catherine.” He wrapped his arms about her, and they both savored the moment, lost in their love for one another.
“Catherine?” Vincent said at last. “Our love is so... pure... now. Do you think that will change after we... make love? What we have now is so perfect, I would hate to risk losing it.”
Catherine brought her hand to his face. “Well, I can’t know for certain, Vincent, but I know we’ll still be the same people we are now. I don’t see how our love could change for the worse.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Vincent, what we have now is...” She shook her head. “Incredible. Our love is so deep, so all-encompassing, so true. I have never felt so deeply connected to anyone in my life. Nothing else even comes close.” A shudder passed through her as she imagined how it would feel to at last complete their union. She knew Vincent could feel what she felt. No more words were needed.
***
Catherine met Vincent at the threshold a few days later. It was late, and she couldn’t stay long, but she wanted to see him. They shared a kiss of greeting, and Catherine mentally noted how superior a hello kiss was to a hello hug.
“I miss your visits to my balcony, Vincent.”
“I miss them too, Catherine, but...”
“You don’t trust yourself alone with me. I know, and I’m not trying to press you—I was just thinking out loud.”
Vincent held out an envelope. “Your invitation, Catherine.”
She smiled. An invitation to anything Below was always a treat. “A Valentine’s Day concert. Hmm. Vincent, did you have anything else in mind for Valentine’s Day?”
“Nothing specific.”
Darn! But she could perhaps change his mind about that later. “All right then. The concert it is. Tell the children I’ll be there.”
Vincent was inwardly relieved. He didn’t want to disappoint the children. “They’ll be thrilled. Catherine, it’s late. You should go.”
“I know,” she said, stepping into his embrace. “I look forward to a day when I can say good night and not leave you.” Vincent held her more tightly and kissed the top of her head. The matter of the good night kiss was nearly at hand, and he debated whether to kiss her the way his body wanted. He no longer worried that Catherine would reject him, but she was tired and he didn’t think it fair to kiss her in a way that might make it difficult to fall asleep. Putting Catherine first, he opted for a chaste kiss, noting with some small amount of satisfaction that she was disappointed.
***
Catherine had been spending most weekends Below since Christmas. Vincent had originally opposed this idea in his subtle way, but guessing that he found the isolated guest chamber to be too great a temptation, Catherine had suggested she ask to sleep over in Mary’s chamber or Rebecca’s. This had worked out wonderfully, and virtually all of the single tunnel women had offered to play hostess to Catherine for a weekend. While she naturally spent most of her time with Vincent, she also fell into the habit of having long conversations with her current roommate, hearing delightful stories about Vincent that he would never have mentioned himself.
She awoke late Sunday morning in Jamie’s chamber, having been up late talking to Jamie and then wakened in the middle of the night by Mouse, who insisted he needed Jamie’s help immediately on his current project. She thought that Jamie must be very fond of Mouse to indulge him so. She sleepily set out for the nearest bathing chamber, and once bathed and dressed, she dropped by Vincent’s chamber. No Vincent though. She went to the dining chamber for breakfast, and then again returned to Vincent’s chamber. But still, no Vincent.
Catherine was puzzled. He hadn’t mentioned anywhere he needed to go this morning. No one at breakfast had mentioned any emergencies that might have arisen during the night. She’d been missing him all through breakfast; surely he was aware of that. It was so unlike him to stay away.
She began to worry, and she wondered if the Bond could lead her to him as it always led Vincent to her. The Bond had been growing stronger these past weeks, due no doubt to their spending more time together and to their increasing intimacy. She didn’t quite know how to let the Bond lead her to Vincent, but she thought if she cleared her mind, concentrated on her feelings for him and then just started walking that she might wind up finding him. This, in fact, worked, although she skeptically thought that it might have just been luck that led her to the Chamber of the Falls.
She could tell by the posture of his body alone that something was wrong. She took a deep breath, wondering if he was confronting some new doubt or fear. Trying to fill herself with calm and love, she approached him slowly.
“I’m sorry, Catherine,” he said without looking up.
“What are you apologizing for, Vincent?” she asked soothingly.
He shook his head for a few moments in an agitated way, and then began to speak in a rush. “For everything. For not coming to you this morning when you were looking for me. For thinking I have any right to love you. For leading you to believe we have a future together. For sullying your beauty with my thoughts.”
Catherine sat down next to Vincent, taking care not to touch him while he was in such a highly charged emotional state. She’d learned her lesson Christmas Day. She sighed and considered what to say first. “Vincent, may I ask what brought on all of these thoughts? Everything was fine when we said good night last night. Better than fine.”
Vincent was silent for a long while, staring off into the distance. Finally, he said quietly, “I had a dream.”
“Tell me.”
“No! You must never be exposed to such thoughts!”
Now, in addition to being worried about him, her curiosity was piqued as well. “Vincent, what kind of a dream was it?” He didn’t answer and still looked away. “Was the dream about me?” He nodded, still not looking at her. “About us?” He nodded again. “An... erotic dream?” He was still for a moment and then bowed his head in what she took as an affirmative. “I have erotic dreams about us too, Vincent, it’s nothing to be ash—”
“You do not have dreams like this, Catherine!”
“You don’t know that. Tell me about the dream.”
“I am an animal!”
Catherine paused again, retaining her calm and attempting to broadcast her love through the Bond. “I don’t know of any animals who not only read Shakespeare but can also teach it to children.”
“I have animal appetites, and you must never be exposed to them!”
“Vincent, I have some animal appetites of my own.”
“No! You are good and kind, courageous and loving. My bestial desires must never touch you.”
Catherine thought he was in dangerous territory. She had to rid him of this notion, or their relationship would go nowhere. His passion was also beginning to leech through the Bond and she found herself aroused. “Vincent,” she said evenly, “I am a real woman with real desires. It sounds like you’ve put me on a pedestal, and as long as you keep me there, you’ll never find yourself worthy of me.” Catherine paused for a moment, calculating the risks of what she was about to do, and finally deciding to proceed. “Vincent, let me tell you about a fantasy of mine.
“I’m standing on the balcony, looking out over the city, missing you and wishing for your company.” She spoke slowly. “I’m wearing a red satin nightgown. I hear you arrive, and my body sighs in relief and anticipation, but I don’t turn to greet you. I wait for you to come to me.” She paused, settling into the image and the feelings it stirred in her, knowing Vincent would feel them too. “This you do, wrapping your arms around me and nestling close. I lean back into your embrace.
“Then you begin to kiss my neck, while your right hand cups my breast and your left hand wanders to my... nether regions.” Catherine took a deep breath, her eyes closed, losing herself in the fantasy.
“Oh, your touch feels so good.” She paused again, savoring the imagined sensations. “I love you, Vincent. I want you.” Your left hand stops its caresses and I whimper in protest, but then I feel that your hand has moved to unfasten your pants, and my body begins to scream, ‘Yes! Yes! Please, yes!’ Your left hand resumes its caresses as your right hand crosses to attend to my other breast. You press your body to mine, and I can feel you hard and warm against my back. My body is on fire! Then, without further preamble you bend me over the wall, lift my nightgown over my hips and penetrate me.” Catherine gasped and paused again, breathing rapidly.
Catherine did not notice the reaction Vincent was having. He was both appalled and deeply flattered, torn between insisting she stop and begging her to continue. It was a standoff, and he found himself incapable of any words at all.
“You thrust inside me, your hands gently rubbing my back and dipping forward to touch my breasts again. All the while, you make the most delicious sounds.” She moaned. “As we become further enflamed, your hands move to my waist to hold me closer, and I press back against you. You grasp my hips, pulling me to you with every thrust until we simultaneously explode in passionate rapture.”
Catherine’s eyes were still closed, her breathing rapid, and it took her a few moments to come back from fantasyland. She finally opened her eyes to find Vincent staring at her wide-eyed, mouth agape. He was clearly shocked and just as clearly aroused, and he was no longer avoiding her eyes.
“Am I down from that pedestal now, Vincent?” He stared at her blankly for a few moments before nodding dazedly. “Would you call that an animal appetite?” He stared at her for a moment and nodded again. “Are you disappointed in me?” Again he stared for a moment and then very slightly shook his head. Catherine breathed a sigh of relief. “Would you like me to leave you alone to think?” Again a pause and a nod. “I’ll wait in your chamber.” She stood, but before leaving she gently rubbed his arm and said, “Vincent, we love each other. We can make our relationship work.”
Vincent sat, considering all she’d said, for a long time. Actually, if he were honest with himself, he was reliving Catherine’s fantasy over and over. When he finally came around to examining his feelings, the first word that came to mind was flabbergasted. And then thrilled. And then lucky. And then he thought for what had to be the thousandth time how remarkable his Catherine was.
He felt an overwhelming need to have her in his arms and he rose abruptly and hurried to his chamber, where he apologized profusely, professed his love, and held her tightly. They spent the afternoon reading and visited with Father in the early evening.
***
The visit with Father was... somewhat odd. He kept making remarks that very subtly indicated his disapproval of their new intimacy. He apparently thought something disastrous would happen to them. When he wasn’t directly trying to discourage their relationship, he spent time asking detailed questions about Catherine’s life Above. Vincent was inclined to become very angry with Father; Catherine sensed this and headed it off by making small gestures across the room when Father wasn’t looking. Once she winked. Another time she raised her eyebrows suggestively. Then she blew him a kiss. And she mouthed, ‘I love you’ a number of times.
Finally they left Father. Catherine packed her things, and Vincent escorted her back to the threshold. They shared a long, wonderful good night kiss. Afterward, Catherine clung to Vincent, waiting until she got sufficient control of her body to climb the ladder.
“Vincent, Valentine’s Day is only a few days away.”
“Yes.”
“Valentine’s Day is a day for lovers.”
He smiled. “Yes.”
She looked into his eyes, seeing an affirmative there too. A wave of anticipatory pleasure passed through her body, and she leaned more closely against him.
***
Catherine was beginning to have serious difficulty concentrating at work. Keeping thoughts of Vincent out of her mind was becoming nearly impossible. She’d asked for a few days off after Valentine’s Day. If that last conversation she’d had with him meant what she thought it did, they would need time alone together. She’d considered taking off the remaining days before Valentine’s Day too, but at work at least she had distractions. No, she’d keep coming to work and trying her best to concentrate.
Late in the evening of February 12, Catherine and Vincent shared another brief interlude at the threshold. Catherine was finding it difficult to keep her promise of not rushing him. Between her anticipation, her years of celibacy, and Vincent’s increasingly bold and passionate kisses and caresses, it was all she could do to keep herself from begging him to make love to her. In spoken words, that is. She could not suppress her body’s reaction to him, nor could she mask her feelings from the Bond. She did allow herself to say, “I want you,” as there was no possible way he could avoid knowing that anyway.
As he held her pressed closely to his body, she was delighted to realize that he was as aroused as she and that he wasn’t afraid to let her feel it. She groaned with pleasure. Vincent grew bolder still and unbuttoned several buttons of Catherine’s blouse. Her body was screaming, ‘Yes, yes,’ just as it did in her fantasies, but Vincent did not touch her breasts, as she’d expected. Instead he bared one shoulder and gripped it in his teeth. Her insides were doing somersaults and she couldn’t think any more as she clung to him to keep her knees from collapsing under her. Vincent scraped his teeth gently across her skin and then kissed her shoulder and neck exuberantly as he pressed her body to the wall with his own, his arms keeping her away from the cold stone wall. He ground his hips against hers, and she gasped in pleasure, involuntary moans escaping her.
Finally, he stopped, holding her close and whispering her name over and over. It took Catherine some time to begin to get control of herself, and when she did she realized she was making whimpering noises. She put a stop to them, but slowing her breathing was rather more difficult.
“It’s late, Catherine. You should go,” Vincent said reluctantly. She nodded incoherently. “Shall we meet at 7:00 on Valentine’s Day? The concert is at 7:30.” Again, she nodded. It took several moments more until she was able to step out of his embrace.
“Good night, Vincent,” she whispered.
“Good night, Catherine.”
***
Vincent let habit lead him back to his chamber as he savored the sensations of touching her as well as the sensations he’d evoked in Catherine. In spite of the fantasy she had shared with him, he had still been afraid she would be repulsed by his bestial differences. The way he had touched her with his teeth had been an experiment, one he’d been terrified of trying. If she’d been frightened or repulsed..., but she wasn’t. She liked it. To say the least. He felt as if he could fly.
He found himself in his chamber and wondered what to do next. Sleep was out of the question, and he didn’t feel like writing in his journal. He seriously doubted he would be able to concentrate on reading. He needed to move. He left his chamber and let himself walk where his feet would take him. He began to think about the details of Valentine’s Day. How would it happen? Where? He let his mind run through several delicious scenarios until his body ached.
He stopped walking and leaned against the cold tunnel wall, trying to slow his breathing. The sensations of touching Catherine washed over him again and he groaned. How could he wait two whole days to touch her again? He spent several minutes trying to bring himself under some semblance of control, and after he was sufficiently calm that his brain could function in more or less normal capacity again, he took a deep breath and began walking back to his chamber. And then he stopped in his tracks as the realization hit him that there was really no good reason to wait until Valentine’s Day to be with her. He ran full out to Catherine’s threshold, where he stopped and forced himself back to a sufficiently calm state to use appropriate caution on the rest of the journey to her balcony.
Stepping onto the balcony felt like coming home. He hadn’t been here in six weeks, not since New Year’s Eve. He went to the door leading to Catherine’s bedroom. He could see she was in bed, although he knew she was not asleep. Old doubts resurfacing, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He tapped on the door before he could talk himself into leaving.
Catherine virtually leapt out of bed and ran to the French doors, not bothering with putting on a robe. She threw herself into his arms, putting her own arms around his waist under his cloak. “I missed you.”
Her words touched him. It couldn’t have been much more than an hour since she’d seen him. “Catherine, it’s cold. May I come in?” She gave him a look that was at once startled and hopeful, and she nodded, stepping backward into her bedroom. Vincent closed the doors, and Catherine looked at him expectantly, afraid to get her hopes too high.
“Catherine, I have something to ask you.” She nodded. “I believe you’ve been expecting that we will become lovers on Valentine’s Day.” She nodded again, afraid to think where he was going with this conversation. “How disappointed would you be if it didn’t happen then?”
She felt her hopes sinking. “Pretty disappointed,” she said sadly.
Vincent felt her feelings and interpreted them to mean she wanted to wait. “All right then. Good night, Catherine.” He went to the doors.
Catherine was confused. She was sure she’d missed something. “Wait! Vincent, why did you come here?” He turned to face her, and she moved to stand before him. The question summoned back the feelings he’d quelled before coming Above and he gazed at her with eyes full of love and desire. Catherine’s eyes grew wide, as she realized she had probably misunderstood the purpose of his question. “Vincent, were you trying to suggest we become lovers before Valentine’s Day?” He nodded, not taking his eyes away. She felt her body growing warmer. “When?”
He continued looking at her intently. He brought his arms around her waist and answered, “Now.” She moaned and collapsed against him. “I want you, Catherine. After tonight I could find no further reasons to be apart from you. I hoped you wouldn’t mind changing our plans.”
“Oh god, Vincent. I was afraid you wanted to postpone our plans. I want you too.”
“I am yours, Catherine.” She moaned and pressed close to him, and Vincent suddenly found himself feeling nervous and shy. Catherine turned her face toward his and when she didn’t get the kiss she was soliciting, she took his face in her hands to lower his mouth toward hers. He was still nervous, but his body had sufficient experience to respond to hers in spite of his self-doubt.
His rising feelings soon crowded out rationale thought, and his passion left no room for nervousness. He found himself bare chested with little realization of how it had come about. Next he found himself lifting Catherine’s nightgown over her head and glorying in her nudity, but his view was soon obstructed as she stepped closer and placed a hand against his erection. They both gasped at the same time.
Catherine attended to opening Vincent’s pants, and in a haze of passion, Vincent found himself touching Catherine’s breasts. As pleasurable as this was, it also had the effect of impeding her progress with his pants. Finally she made him stop, moving his hands instead to the pants which kept them apart. He undid them quickly, and assisted Catherine when he realized she wanted them pulled down. They wouldn’t go further than his knees because of his boots.
Catherine urged him to the floor, pushing him back and climbing on top of him. “Vincent, I want you,” she said before kissing him. Vincent wrapped his arms tightly around her and raised his hips to hers, eager to join with her. She moaned into his mouth, broke the kiss, sat upright, and made short work of joining their bodies. They both groaned when this was accomplished and they fell into an urgent, seeking rhythm which soon found what it sought: the ecstasy of simultaneous release. It had happened quickly, and they clung to one another almost in disbelief of what had happened.
Their passion quieted, they shared tender kisses and whispered words of love to one another. Finally, Catherine’s conscience got the better of her, and she said, “Vincent, I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry about, Catherine?” Vincent asked, concerned.
“Your first time should have been....”
“It was wonderful, Catherine. Beyond imagining.”
She moaned in spite of herself as passion surged through her again. “It was wonderful, Vincent, but I should have—”
“Catherine, it was beautiful. I would not wish to change it.”
“Please, Vincent, let me say this.” She brought her fingers to his lips to silence him. “You deserved to have a more tender experience your first time, one that wasn’t so rushed. But I wanted you so badly, I couldn’t wait any more. I’m sorry.”
“Catherine, I wanted you just as urgently, and I thank you for not prolonging the wait.”
Conceding that point, Catherine was still not ready to let herself off the hook. “But I didn’t even let you take off your boots. It can’t be very romantic making love with your boots on.”
Vincent smiled patiently. “Truly, Catherine. I would change nothing. Or rather...” She looked at him contritely. “Catherine, the only thing I would change are these remorseful feelings on your part. Please stop diminishing our joy with unnecessary regret.”
“I’m sorry. I mean...”
Vincent chuckled. “I love you, Catherine.”
“Oh, Vincent, I love you.” She melted back into his embrace.
“Catherine, would it be presumptuous of me to assume there will be a ‘next time’?”
“Well, if it’s presumptuous of you, it’s presumptuous of me too.”
Vincent smiled. “Catherine, I will grant you all the next times you may ever want.”
“Me too.” She smiled warmly.
“Then there will be time not to rush.”
“Yes.” She was touched that this conversation had been for the purpose of easing her conscience. “I love you.” He kissed her sweetly. “Let’s move to the bed, Vincent,” she said, moving to sit on her heels beside him. He agreed, sitting up. “May I take your boots off?” Tilting his head to one side, he smiled and nodded.
***
They cuddled and talked for a long time, both being too excited to sleep, before they made love again. Catherine made sure this time to give him the slow, tender experience he deserved, putting him in the dominant position this time. Afterward, their mutual tiredness won out and they both fell asleep.
Catherine awoke to Vincent stroking her hair. “I’m sorry to wake you, Catherine. It will be morning soon.” He paused, gazing lovingly at her face. “I don’t wish to leave you.”
“Must you?”
Vincent was surprised, as staying was an idea he hadn’t contemplated. “Don’t you... need to go to work?”
She shook her head. “I asked for a few days off after Valentine’s Day. I’ll just call and say I decided to start my vacation early. Can you stay?”
He cupped her face with his hand, acquiescing without even thinking about it. Reason did get the better of him though, and he said, “Father will worry if he finds me missing.” He stroked Catherine’s cheek with the back of a finger, and Catherine was pleased that he was making no effort to leave. “Perhaps... Catherine, would you mind if I leave briefly and return? If I leave a note, he won’t worry.”
She nestled closer. “If you think that’s best, Vincent.”
“I would prefer not to leave you, Catherine, but the pain of a short separation pales in comparison to facing Father’s wrath.”
Catherine laughed and agreed. “You’d better get going then. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back.” Vincent rose and went into the bathroom. It didn’t make rational sense to Catherine that sharing her bathroom with him would feel intimate, but it made her happy anyway. Vincent returned and dressed and kissed Catherine goodbye, promising a swift return.
***
He kept his promise. Seeing a light from the kitchen, he tapped on the glass of the door to the living room. Catherine’s joy filled him as she ran to open the door. Vincent closed the door behind him and Catherine embraced him. “Vincent, you really don’t need to knock any more. The doors aren’t locked. I figure any thief who would go to the trouble of arriving by the balcony wouldn’t let a lock stop him anyway.
“Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”
***
They spent the next two days and a night enjoying and growing accustomed to their new intimacy. They talked and laughed and ate. Catherine learned that Vincent loved pizza and rarely had the opportunity to have it. She surprised him with a heart shaped pizza for lunch on Valentine’s Day. They cuddled and showered together, and not least of all, they made love. A lot, in every room and in every position Catherine had ever imagined and several she hadn’t. Vincent’s confidence was growing by leaps and bounds, and with it came a remarkable creativity which he explained was a result of many years spent alone with no practical knowledge of what worked and what didn’t. Their lovemaking nearly always ended in mutual orgasm, due undoubtedly to their miraculous Bond.
As they lay together in the waning afternoon of Valentine’s Day, Catherine began to regret she’d accepted the invitation to the concert, and she asked Vincent how disappointed he thought the children would be if they didn’t come.
“Quite disappointed, Catherine. The concert is for us.”
“What? You didn’t mention that before.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise, but I can’t keep secrets from you any more, Catherine. I’m not supposed to know either. The program is composed entirely of romantic musical selections, to entice us to... proceed with our relationship.”
Catherine chuckled. “What a sweet gesture. Did they choose the music themselves?”
“No, they’ve had considerable help with that. I’ve overheard a number of conversations debating the relative merits of this or that piece of music. It’s a bit embarrassing, but I’m glad they approve of our relationship.”
“Me too. I wish Father would come around though. Do you suppose he told anyone you’re here?”
Vincent paused. “He doesn’t know, Catherine. The note I left only said that I was going away, that the time of my return was undecided, but that I would certainly be back for the concert. If I told him I was here, he would undoubtedly realize why, and considering the mood he was in the last time we spoke with him, I did not want to risk him coming here to lecture us.”
Catherine laughed. “You do plan to tell him eventually, don’t you?”
“If necessary, but Catherine, I suspect everyone will know without our telling them. You are looking more radiant than I have ever seen you, and I doubt I will be able to keep from touching you this evening.”
“I see your point. You’re looking happier and more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you too. And the way you look at me...” She sighed. “You’re right, I think most of them will know.”
“Do you mind them knowing, Catherine?” he asked, concerned, a bit of his old doubts resurfacing.
“Are you kidding, Vincent?! I want to shout it to the world!”
***
They deliberately arrived at Father’s chamber a few minutes late, hoping to postpone the inevitable until after the concert. Most of the audience was already seated, and of course, the children hadn’t started without them. They were escorted to the places that had been reserved for them on the same couch where they’d sat at the Christmas Eve play. This location did not have a prime view of the concert, but instead had been thoughtfully placed in a somewhat isolated, dimly lit corner. Catherine silently thanked whoever it was who’d arranged that.
Vincent had been right about the music. It ranged from sweetly, tenderly romantic to passionate and fiery, and it had the intended effect on them. They longed to be alone together again, but it would be rude to leave in the middle of the concert.
They had eyes only for each other, and at one point Catherine found Vincent gazing intently at her chest. She suddenly realized she’d been absently stroking her crystal, and she remembered their conversation of several days ago. She could feel Vincent’s reaction through the Bond as well as see it in his face, and she wanted more of it.
She grasped the top of the crystal in one hand to anchor it while she stroked it with the thumb and forefinger of her opposite hand. Vincent inhaled sharply, and she guessed he had not yet realized her actions were now deliberate. She began to tip the bottom of the crystal slowly forward until it finally faced up. He had caught on during this procedure, and he glanced back and forth between the crystal and her face. She made her strokes more insistent and she watched his eyes widen. She stopped the stroking and brought the crystal to her mouth. She breathed on it and then rubbed it slowly back and forth across her lips. Vincent’s mouth dropped open.
Oral sex was not something they’d tried yet. Vincent hadn’t broached the subject and she hadn’t wanted to inhibit his increasingly adventurous ideas by making suggestions of her own. Perhaps that had been a mistake, one which she would have to remedy at the first opportunity. In the meantime, she continued her seduction by opening her mouth and dragging the crystal vertically down her bottom lip, wetting it slightly in the process. Vincent moaned softly. She repeated this action several times, letting her tongue come forward to caress the tip. He still watched intently. She closed her mouth over the crystal and sucked on it, and Vincent closed his eyes and threw his head back. Catherine smiled and waited for his gaze to return, then kissed the crystal gently and closed her hand around it possessively.
“Oh, Catherine, I want you,” he whispered, before taking her mouth in a scorchingly passionate kiss accompanied by the urgent caresses of one breast. An outburst of applause alerted them that the concert had ended, and Vincent hurried Catherine to the nearest exit.
Alas, they were not to escape unscathed. Father blocked the doorway, looking as angry as Vincent had ever seen him. “May I speak to both of you in private?”
Vincent and Catherine exchanged a glance, and Vincent suggested, “My chamber?”
“Fine.”
Vincent filled the ensuing awkward silence on the way to his chamber by remarking how well the concert had gone. The annoyed glare from Father put a stop to any further such small talk however. When they arrived in Vincent’s chamber, Father began his tirade.
“What on earth are the two of you thinking?! I have never in all my life seen such a scandalous display! And you, young lady, you should be ashamed of yourself, tempting my son in such a way! Did it completely escape the attention of both of you that there were children present?! Not to mention other sensitive individuals who need never be privy to such a display? I can see now that I’ve been far too lenient with you! I should have intervened weeks ago. I know where this relationship is headed, and you must realize what a tragic mistake you would be making. You have no idea of the possible consequences, and to take such a risk would be reckless and foolhardy! No! It’s impossible, and... I forbid it.”
Vincent had been growing increasingly irritated at Father’s interference. Catherine, however, found the whole scene so preposterous that she was having difficulty even keeping a straight face. His last sentence was the last straw, and she had to drop her head to hide her smile, which soon grew into a silent laugh and finally into a noisy guffaw, which preempted Vincent’s reply to Father. She knew it was a mistake to be laughing in this situation, but she just couldn’t stop until the laugh had run its course. Finally getting herself under control, she looked up at Father to apologize, but the expression on his face set her off again. She was trying, truly trying not to laugh, and she was failing miserably. She leaned her forehead against Vincent’s shoulder, making another attempt to behave herself.
Vincent, meanwhile, had grasped the meaning of her humor. Not having his long history with Father, of course Catherine would view this situation from a different perspective. And she was right, he realized. He owed Father no explanations, no apologies. It struck him that Father was overreacting out of concern and love and he forgave him and enjoyed the sweet sound of Catherine’s laughter. He even began to feel sorry for Father as Catherine walked halfway across the room, apparently beginning to get herself under control and then bent over double, bursting out laughing again. She laughed so hard she had to sit down and cross her legs.
Catherine began to hope the laughing was almost at an end, for as much fun as it had been, it was starting to hurt. “I’m sorry, Father,” she said between breaths. She began to wipe her eyes. She decided not to make the mistake of looking at him again.
“Are you quite finished, young lady?” he asked sternly.
His words made her begin to giggle silently again, but she clamped her mouth shut and nodded, redoubling her efforts.
Father began his lecture anew, but Vincent interrupted him immediately. “Father, don’t you see what’s funny?”
“I see nothing funny! I see only disrespect!”
“I’m sorry, Father,” Catherine said again, realizing she’d hurt his feelings. She rose and approached him. “Truly I am. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I just lost control. I’m sorry.”
“Father, it’s the matter of my age that is amusing. I am not an irresponsible teenager. You have taught me well, Father, and for that I thank you. I can make my own decisions.”
Father began to look somewhat resigned.
“Your age is only half of what’s funny, Vincent.” She looked up at him mischievously, adding “assuming Father means what I think he means to forbid.” Vincent put his arm around her, kissing her forehead, and then looked back at Father.
“Oh, dear god,” Father muttered. He looked about to collapse, and Vincent put an arm around him and helped him to get to a chair and sit down. Catherine and Vincent both fussed over him, asking if he was all right, assuring him they were all right and that nothing ‘tragic’ had happened. Catherine apologized again for her outburst.
Seeing their concern for him, Father at last abandoned his anger with them and asked them to forgive a foolish old man. They did, while at the same time reassuring him he wasn’t foolish. Vincent thanked him again for his years of love and support, and they all returned to Father’s chamber.
Vincent thanked and congratulated the children in his sincere way, just as he had at Christmas, and Catherine looked forward to the day when they could start their own family. Vincent had indeed been right about everyone noticing their new intimacy, and just as they had after Vincent had kissed her under the mistletoe on Christmas morning, the members of the tunnel community hugged and congratulated them, and once again Catherine felt like a bride on her wedding day. This time she knew, though, that it was only a matter of time. They had found their way through the greatest obstacles to their love, and their future lay before them, as clear as crystal.