Chapter One

Vincent stepped down on Catherine's balcony. The sight of light inside relieved part of his anxiety. Approaching the window, he saw her, sitting on her couch. Still the bond was silent, as it had been all day, to his great anguish. There had been only the tiniest thread of their connection left to tell him that Catherine was alive, but all her feelings and emotions, the warm continuous current he had come to take as much for granted as his own heartbeat, had been lost to him, leaving him in a cold, empty loneliness he could not bear. Worse, still, he knew Catherine was responsible for it. She had closed the bond, shut herself away from him. She had done it before, when she had been abducted by Paracelsus, but he knew this was different.

He recalled the events of the previous night.

He had come to see her, as he did almost every night lately. He didn't seem to be able to stay away from her, and he knew she enjoyed those visits. They had talked, and read to each other for a while, sitting on the balcony floor, Catherine's head nestled on his shoulder. It had been a warm, sweet moment, and he didn't want it to end, but, knowing she needed her rest, he finally closed the book and said it was time for him to leave. That was not unusual for him, neither were Catherine's quickly suppressed feelings of loss and disappointment. But last night those feelings had been particularly acute, as if she had neither the strength nor the will to suppress them completely. She enticed him to stay in a pleading voice, which he gently declined, and when they came together for their parting hug, she clung to him with unusual strength, threatening to shatter the invisible barriers he had carefully set between them. Her hand rose to cup his cheek, pulling his face down to hers. Realizing she intended to kiss him, he panicked. This was a boundary he had long ago decided was not to be crossed, for Catherine's safety. He had to be strong for both of them. Resisting the siren call of her love and desire washing unrestricted over him, he gently pulled away from her, taking her hand from his face to keep it in his own. "Catherine…"

She didn't answer. He felt her dismay, and then to his surprise, her anger, an anger soon building into exasperation. She opened her mouth as if to say something, something he strongly suspected would not be nice to hear, but she only shook her head, her anger suddenly giving way to discouragement and weariness. She turned her back on him and went inside, shutting the door and pulling the curtain. He started after her, but checked himself, he couldn't very well run after her after pushing her away one more time, could he? Still, seeing her walk away gave him a terrible feeling of loss, as if this time a door had slammed shut between them. You're losing her, you fool! What are you waiting for? Break that window, kiss her, make love to her, that's what she wants, that's what you both want!

Vincent came back to the present, his eyes on Catherine's tense and immobile silhouette, and he sighed. Maybe he should have listened to that voice and gone to her. Instead, he had chosen to listen to the voice of reason, to the voice of fear. With a heavy heart, he had gone back to the tunnels. Most of the night he had felt her turmoil, pain, anger and despair whirling in her soul. She had finally drifted into an exhausted, restless sleep, and he must have dozed off, too, to awaken in the cold emptiness of Catherine's absence. Only lifelong, deeply ingrained safety reflexes had prevented him from running to her in the daylight, and then just barely. He had spent the day roaming the corridors, pacing in his anguish and impatience, afraid he had lost her for good, by his own fault, and, while the voice of reason told him maybe this was for the better, it had quickly been silenced by another, stronger, voice: This cannot be! I won't lose her! She's mine! Mine!

As soon as it had been dark enough, he had hurried to her balcony, and now that he was there, he just stood, looking at her, uncertain of what to do next. Though only a few steps and a glass pane separated them, she seemed terribly far away, almost unreachable. He considered tapping on the window to attract her attention, but a subtle stiffening in her posture told him she was already aware of his presence, and chose not to acknowledge it. Tears welled into Vincent's eyes. Catherine! His beloved Catherine, who always ran to her balcony to welcome him, joy filling her heart! Now she was ignoring him, and it hurt so much he could not stand it. He almost gave up, then, almost turned away and left her, if that was what she wanted, but at the thought he felt a strong, rebellious current rise from deep inside him. NO! This is not what Catherine wants! You very well know what she wants!

As if by it's own will, his hand rose to the door-handle. The door opened easily - See! She didn't lock you out! - and he stepped into Catherine's apartment, stopping just inside the door. "Catherine!" he called urgently.

"Vincent." If she was surprised, or glad, that he'd just crossed one of his self-imposed boundaries, there was no evidence of it. The Bond didn't even stir, and she didn't turn toward him. She only acknowledged his presence in a calm, bland voice.

Vincent felt himself sink into a whirling pit of dark, cold dread. Too late! It was too late! Catherine didn't love him any more! From the bottom of his despair, a snarling denial rose. NO! This can't be!

He ran to Catherine and knelt down in front of her.

"Catherine!" he pleaded.

She looked away and he took her hands, trying to catch her elusive gaze.

"Catherine please don't!"

She granted him a brief look.

"Don't what, Vincent?"

"Don't shut yourself away from me! I can't bear it!"

She finally looked at him, without a trace of sympathy. "Oh, you can't bear it? But you shut yourself away from me all the time, and you expect me to bear it!"

Her words startled him. "It's not the same…" he began, but she silenced him with a hard look, and he lowered his eyes. Yes, it was the same thing, and however good his reasons were, his actions had hurt her deeply, day after day, until she could not stand it any more…See what you've done, you blind fool! And you claim you love her!

"Catherine, I'm sorry!" he pleaded "I never wanted to hurt you so." She didn't move, didn't even acknowledge his apology. Vincent felt a howl of despair rise from deep inside him. Too late… No! It couldn't be, he wouldn't let it! In an impulse, he circled Catherine's waist with his arms, holding her tight, and laid his head on her lap. "Oh, Catherine, can you forgive me? I know I don't deserve your forgiveness…I don't deserve your love, but I could not bear to lose it! Please don't leave me! You are my life!…." Come on, say it! Now! "…Catherine…I love you!" The voice deep inside him growled its approval, as the words he'd withheld for so long were finally torn out of him by the fear of losing her.

He felt Catherine's startled reaction at his unexpected move, and his words caused her to moan, as if in pain. There was a stirring in the bond, first he could faintly feel waves of emotion fighting the walls she had built, until the walls crumbled and fell, and the full strength of her emotional turmoil washed over him with a shock. Lingering anger, shy hope and wary joy caused by his words, along with awe and a hint of disbelief, drowned in overwhelming sorrow flowed through him as she clung to his shoulders, burying her face in his hair.

"Oh, Vincent, I'm sorry! I tried…I thought it would be better if I closed the bond. I can't stand it any more, it hurts so much when you push me away…I could not hide it any more…. I was afraid you would leave me… I tried…but I can't, I can't. It's too hard! I love you too much!" Her incoherent words blurred into sobs as grief overwhelmed her.

Vincent didn't try to answer. Words were not what she needed in her present emotional state, and he doubted his own turmoil would allow him to be articulate. He rose, lifting Catherine, and sat on the couch with her on his lap, warm and secure, allowing them both the much needed comfort of each other's closeness.

As the tumult of Catherine's emotions slowly receded, leaving him free to gather his thoughts he knew he had important decisions to make, and he had to make them quickly.

Yet were they his to make any more, if they'd ever been? Did he have any choice left? Had he ever had any?

He recalled he'd once told Catherine that one either moved toward love, or away from it. That there was no other direction. Knowing that, he'd nevertheless fooled himself into thinking he could choose a third option, which was…not moving at all. He had managed to maintain that deception, but at what price! He realized now, with bitter shame, that it was Catherine who had willingly, courageously paid most of that price, hiding her pain, her frustration, her disappointment, to spare him. Until she could hold no more, and it almost destroyed her, almost destroyed them both.

Not moving at all was not an option any more, if it had ever been, and as to "moving away from love"…his whole being cringed at the thought. If once he had thought that parting from her might be a solution, now he knew with absolute certainty that it would kill them both…

That left only one direction:

Toward love.

The thought made him shiver with both fear and anticipation. In that direction lay his most cherished dreams, and his worse nightmares. Now he must find the courage to confront his fears, before the dream was lost for ever.

Catherine snuggled closer to him with a contented sigh. He could feel her peace, now, as she enjoyed the physical contact he so seldom allowed between them. He, too, reveled in her closeness. She seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms! He could feel her heart beating close to his, and breathed in deeply her familiar scent. She felt so good! He never wanted to let her go.

Why should you let her go? She doesn't want to go! You know what she wants! Kiss her!

He knew where that voice came from. It came from those dark, snarling depths he was so afraid to look into. It came from the same place as the bestial roars and the murderous violence that shamed him. And protected Catherine's life! the voice added with defiance. Reluctantly, he admitted that without that violent side of him, he could have lost her on many occasions.

But did that mean he could risk losing control of those emotions? He knew what else hid in those depths. The desire, the hunger. If he decided to move toward love, if he gave in to his passion for Catherine, wasn't there a risk that he might …Hurt her? the voice snarled. Why would you hurt her? Love her, hold her, keep her, yes! But hurt her? Hurt Catherine? Never! You think too much! the voice added with a snort. That hurts her!

Yes, Vincent reflected, he had hurt her. Deeply and more than once. By refusing to listen to that voice, and listening to his fears instead. Now the time had come to put those fears aside, and trust their love.

Carefully, but with determination, he lowered the barriers that locked away that part of himself. He felt the same surge of warmth and power as when violence engulfed him, and for a second he was scared. But there was no trace of that murderous rage rising to challenge his control. Why should there be? Catherine was not in danger, was she? She was here, safe in his arms, and he loved her. How he loved her! He loved her with all the strength, the confidence and the fierce possessiveness he now found in himself, as he accepted, embraced that stronger, wilder part of his emotions he used to call his "dark" side.

He felt a new awareness, both mental and physical, as if by forbidding that side of him to surface, he'd also given up part of his abilities. His senses seemed to be enhanced, as they were during his murderous rages, but this time it wasn't to help him fight more efficiently. Right now all his senses, in their new acuteness, were concentrated on savoring Catherine's presence. Her scent had never been so enticing to him, and the warmth of her scantily clad flesh burned his skin through his own multiple layers of clothing.

He felt his body respond to her, and, deep inside him, the demanding hunger grew, frightening him for an instant. But he was determined not to give in to his fears. Rather than shying away from his desire for Catherine, he faced it. A difficult thing to do, as it was contrary to almost all he had come to believe about himself. He had always thought that to desire a woman would never be right for him, that it could only lead to pain, as it had with Lisa. That his love for Catherine should remain pure, untainted by animal lust…A losing battle from the start. A stupid one! mocked the voice. She's your mate, she's always been yours, and you knew it!

Yes, and he had often felt Catherine's desire for him, as he now felt her growing arousal through the bond. She was the woman he loved, and she loved him. It was time for him to acknowledge the rightness of his own desires. This hunger in him was not the manifestation of his "inhuman" nature, but of his love for Catherine and he could control it, if he wanted. To get past his fears, he had no other solution than to trust himself, trust that the side of him that always protected Catherine would never hurt her.

Catherine had kept as quiet as possible, savoring Vincent's closeness, still half persuaded that it wasn't going to last. She tried not to think of how she'd feel when the step forward he seemed to have taken would inevitably be followed by three steps backwards, embarrassed apologies and a hurried departure. She stopped that unhappy train of thoughts, not wanting Vincent to feel it through the bond, and concentrated on the wonderful sensation of being on his lap, safely ensconced between his great arms. She knew how the manifestations of her desire disturbed him, and did her best to calm herself. Exhausted by her sleepless night and the strain of keeping the bond closed all day, she gradually drifted into a blissful drowsiness.

Suddenly a powerful wave invaded her soul, startling her back to full awareness. She knew it had to come from Vincent, and almost gasped with the force of it. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt from him. Unused to feeling his emotions, she tried to analyze the current flowing through her. It was…dark, yes, but not frighteningly so, wild, but not dangerous. Dark like a strong coffee or a rich wine, wild like the wind blowing through the grass. And it was so warm it made her whole body tingle in response. She wanted nothing more than to drown into that warmth, safely nestled in the strength of Vincent's love.

She became aware of the growing hardness against her thigh and tried to stifle her own surge of joy and desire. Still unsure of Vincent's reaction in spite of what she was feeling through the bond, she moved to shift her weight slightly. She feared the contact might embarrass him, and give him a reason to run away once more.

The reaction was immediate, and unexpected. With a muted growl, he tightened his arms around her to bring her even closer, and she distinctly felt the possessive thrust of his hips against her.

Her eyes snapped open and she threw her head back to look at him, unbelieving of what she saw, of what she felt. Raw desire stared at her through a darkened gaze, his mouth was open on shining white fangs, and his breath came in short hot pants, matching the short hot waves of desire that swept over her through the bond. She felt her body go soft like molten wax, around a tense, throbbing core.

When he spoke, his voice, too, was deeper, darker than usual, and his words surprised her.

"You're mine, Catherine!"

That he would claim her in so assertive a way was more than she had ever dared hope. Deprived of articulate speech, she could only nod her agreement. Her tongue stole out to moisten her suddenly very dry lips in an instinctive invitation.

Kiss her!

Vincent hardly needed the encouragement. He had stopped thinking coherently and relied entirely on instinct, trusting in their bond to keep Catherine safe. His lips came down on hers with a voracious abandon. How he had longed for her luscious, tempting mouth! So many times he had observed the movements of those full lips, when she talked, when she smiled, feeling his own mouth go very dry. Now her lips were under his, willingly, joyously offered, and he drank deeply. He had years of hopeless, desperate thirst to drench.

She tasted like heaven, and he thoroughly explored every corner of her mouth. Catherine was engaged in a similar discovery and on the way their tongues greeted and caressed each other. What was left of his conscious mind noted with pleasure that she didn't seem to be repulsed by his differences, laying another of his fears to rest. Your useless fears! snarled the voice. This is good! This is right! Feel how much she wants you!

And she did! To his wonder, the ferocious hunger growing in Catherine matched his own, that he'd always thought of as "animal". In the dim recesses of his mind, he heard another of his certainties crash noisily to the ground. Understanding that she, too, had long months of frustration to make up for, he joyously promised himself he'd compensate her for every second of it.

Their kiss would have gone on for ever, but after a seemingly endless time, they finally had to come apart for a much needed breath. Panting, they stared at each other in wonder. A tumult of emotions, awe at the enormity of what had happened, elation that it finally had, and overwhelming love was flowing freely through the bond. Vincent was the first to recover enough breath to speak.

"I love you, Catherine! I've always loved you!"

Unable to answer with words yet, she smiled and sent a warm loving wave back to him, her green eyes brimming with tears of joy and relief. At last! At long, long last! She raised a hand to caress his face, and finally found her breath to return his words.

"And I love you, Vincent, I've always loved you!"

He pulled her tight against him, nuzzling her hair as he spoke huskily. "Catherine, will you ever forgive me? For so long I allowed my fears to keep us apart and though I knew it was causing you great pain, I couldn't find the courage to move forward because…of what I am."

She drew away slightly to look at him. "Vincent, I love everything that you are!" she firmly stated.

"As all that I am loves you, Catherine, I know that now. But my hesitations have been the cause of so much useless suffering!"

She put a gentle hand on his lips. "Shh, it's over, now, darling! And there's nothing to forgive. Things happen in their own time, when we're ready for them. You said yourself that we were on a path no one had taken before us."

He smiled a little sheepishly. "I also remember saying something about courage, and care…I did indeed go with care, but seemed to forget the courage somewhere on the way."

"That's not true!" she protested. A hint of mischief in her voice, she went on. "And now, Vincent, if you'll please stop apologizing, we've got much better to do!"

He cocked his head on the side to look at her with feigned innocence, a sparkle of humor in his blue eyes. "Oh, have we really? And what might that be?"

She giggled, delighted to find this light-heartedness in her once so solemn lover. "Hmm, let me see…well, you might kiss me again?"

A wave of heat answered her through the bond, the hunger back in his suddenly darkened eyes. He closed the distance between them, stopping just a breath away to speak against her lips, his voice like rough velvet. "To hear is to obey, my Catherine."

They took all their time to thoroughly explore and enjoy each other. It was all new to them, to both of them, as Catherine's previous experiences had faded to nothingness under Vincent's first touch, and they wanted to savor every moment of it. The gnawing hunger was still there, somewhere, but it could wait. For the moment, kissing was enough, and Vincent was fleetingly surprised to find that patience in a part of himself he'd always thought of as uncontrollable.

Emboldened by this discovery, he let his hands run on Catherine's lightly clad body, learning the curves and warmth of her, feeling her shiver under his touch as their kiss deepened.

With a moan, she snuggled tighter in his embrace, her weight adding pressure on his arousal, and his hips thrust reflexively in answer, seeking closer contact.

Catherine felt his need and moved to face him, shifting her leg to straddle his thighs, sharing his jolt of pleasure at that more intimate touch. She began to move against him, rubbing her hardened breasts on his chest, her tongue in Vincent's mouth matching the movements of her hips against his. More, she wanted more!

Needing to touch him, she deftly undid the lace at the top of his tunic and pulled it open to reveal a triangle of soft golden hair. Vincent's startled gasp ended in a whimper of rapture as he felt her first touch on his naked skin and her own pleasure overcame him, sweeping away any objection before it could even arise.

Catherine rubbed her face against him, enjoying the silky caress of his fur, and the warm, musky scent rising from his flesh. Her eager hands ventured under his tunic to claim more of him, while her hips sought his in an increased, deliciously tormenting pressure.

Enough…for now! Catherine needs to rest. Vincent was mildly shocked that this call to reason hadn't come from his "reasonable" self, that only the part of him most attuned to Catherine had felt her bone-deep fatigue under the burning arousal. He gently disengaged himself from her hold, sending a warm reassuring current to soothe the wave of panic rising in her, and met her wary eyes.

"Catherine, I want you! How I want you!" This was exactly what she needed to hear, and he felt her anguish ease down. "And there are no words to say what it does to me to know that you want me too," he went on, his voice deep and soft "but the moment is not right. You need your rest." She started to protest, and he gently silenced her with a light kiss. "I know you are afraid that I will change my mind, but believe me, I won't! You are mine."

She felt his determination through the bond and surrendered with a smile. "I know you won't. You're right, I am tired, and so are you. Neither of us got much sleep last night."

"Catherine, do you think I could…come and see you, tomorrow night?" he softly asked, amazed at his own boldness.

She smiled, delighted that he'd dared voice his desires so openly, then her smile abruptly turned into a dismayed frown.

"Catherine?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I'd forgotten about it, but I've got that trial starting tomorrow. A big case we've been working on for weeks. I'm afraid we won't be able to meet until it's over, as Joe and I will have to work every night. I won't be home until very late…"

"…And you will need your sleep. Catherine, don't worry, I understand." he gently reassured her, stifling his disappointment.

"It should be finished by Friday night, and I'll come Below for the week-end!" she promised. "Hey, I could even take a few days off!" She felt Vincent's pleasure and added. "A week! We'll have a whole week to spend together." She looked deep into his eyes. "Truly together!"

He didn't flinch. "Truly together, my Catherine. At last." He sealed his promise with a sweet, lingering kiss and rose, easing her off his lap.

"Please, don't go right now!" she asked with pleading eyes. "Stay a little more!"

He sighed and smiled indulgently. He did owe her that, after all the times he'd ignored her requests. "Catherine, I will stay. But only for a little while, and you must promise…"

"…I'll behave, don't worry!" she giggled. "What about some tea?"

"Yes, please." Eager now to know the place where his Catherine lived, he followed her into the kitchen, puzzled by the modern furniture and equipments that made it so different from William's huge kitchen Below. He watched her put on the electric kettle and admired the grace of her movements as she prepared the tea tray. He knew she was aware of his perusal, and was delighted to feel her blush.

"Vincent!" she protested.

"Catherine, you are so beautiful! I could spend my whole life just looking at you!"

She poured water on the tea leaves, and wicked eyes rose to meet his. " Just as long as I can do the same." She let her gaze run up and down his body, lingering on the naked portion of his chest. " I just love looking at you, too, and I suspect I'm going to love it more and more!"

It was Vincent's turn to blush. Catherine's expressed desire to see him, all of him, evoked both a deep, exciting thrill and a profound uneasiness. His body was so big and hairy! What if Catherine… Oh, enough with that! What she knows so far didn't make her run away, did it? Bet you she'll love what she'll see! A wave of dark pride enforced the idea as a new, different vision of his own body rose in his mind. Definitely human-shaped, only in better shape than many others he'd seen, he admitted, stronger, more agile and reliable. Nothing to be ashamed of! Definitely masculine, too, as his still swollen, painfully constricted flesh reminded him. And Catherine certainly doesn't mind that either, does she?

Not only she didn't mind, but added to it by letting her eyes trail on the revealing bulge.

"And I do hope we'll do a bit more than just look, Vincent!" she said with an impish grin.

"Catherine!" he gently reproached.

All right, all right, I promised to behave." she amended, handing him the tray.

Before sitting down near him she pushed the CD player's button, trying to remember what she'd listened to last, hoping it wasn't Bob Marley. The first notes reassured her. Bach, yes, just right!

They sat in comfortable silence, enjoying tea and music together, the bond shimmering with joy and tenderness. Catherine put her cup down and snuggled close to Vincent, resting her head on his shoulder. He knew he should go now, but allowed them a few more minutes of that blissful closeness they had so yearned for. It felt so good! From the depths of his chest, a low, rumbling sound rose, delighting Catherine.

"Vincent, you're purring! That's lovely, please don't stop!"

He realized that it hadn't happened to him for many years, not since he was a child, and he had repressed it because he knew Father was ill-at-ease with that manifestation of his difference. But Catherine loved it, and he let the soothing vibration run freely in his throat, enjoying the deep, primal well-being it evoked.

Soon he felt Catherine drift into a peaceful sleep and cautiously rose, lifting her in his arms to carry her to her bedroom. With gentle, loving gestures he laid her on her bed, pulling the covers over her. He stood for a long time near the bed to watch her sleep, mesmerized by her beauty, hardly able to believe that he'd finally dared claim this woman as his. But claim her he had, and it filled him with a visceral, possessive pride he wouldn't deny, as he now accepted that part of himself that roared and killed, but also loved to cuddle, and purr.

Finally he bent to lay a soft kiss on his beloved's lips, and reluctantly left her to return Below.

*********

Chapter 2

"Checkmate, Father!"

"What? It can't be, not again!"

Vincent grinned to his parent's incredulous face. "I'm afraid it is."

The older man looked at the chessboard and sighed. He'd talked his son into a game of chess, a somewhat rare treat lately, and one he knew he owed to Catherine's heavy work schedule, only to find himself beaten, crushed rather, three times running.

"Vincent, what was that attack? I didn't see it coming! It's not anything I taught you. That last game was brutal!"

Vincent only grinned wider, displaying all his teeth, which earned him a surprised look. "It was…efficient!" he countered.

"It certainly was", Father conceded, "but I would not call it a beautiful game. It lacked subtlety, and elegance. It was…uncivilized!"

To his parent's shock, Vincent threw his head back and laughed out loud, a deep, rumbling sound Jacob Wells didn't remember having ever heard. "Yes," Vincent admitted, a mischievous sparkle in his gaze "I suppose you could say that, Father."

Unsettled by his son's reaction, Father threw him a puzzled glance, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Jamie entered the study.

"Father, Mary sent me, she needs you in the hospital chamber. She says there's no emergency," she added, as Father and Vincent hastily rose "but she'd like to have your advice."

As they walked toward the hospital chamber, Father felt a little guilty. There had been a small epidemic of chicken-pox among the younger children. Nothing that really called for extended medical skill, but that wasn't a reason for leaving it almost all to Mary's care.

His guilt flared up as a somewhat disheveled and very tired-looking Mary welcomed them in a noisy chamber. A simple look from Father was enough to silence the children, except two-years-old Jonathan, who went on fussing in Mary's arms.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Father", she said "but I don't know what to do with him. He keeps scratching, he's too small to understand that he mustn't. And he won't sleep, so he keeps the others from sleeping, too. Is there anything you could give him?" She was visibly exhausted, and Vincent gently took the whining child from her.

"Why don't you go and rest, Mary? I'll take care of them for the night."

"Hey, careful, Vincent!, you'll catch chicken-pox, too!" one of the boys warned.

Vincent smiled. "I've had it already, when I was not much bigger than Jonathan."

"And did you scratch yourself?"

"If I had, I wouldn't have any face left." Vincent answered, displaying his claws. "But I gave Father a hard time!"

"How?"

"Tell us!"

Even Jonathan stopped crying to look at Vincent with rapt attention.

"If you all lie back in your beds and keep very quiet, I'll tell you the whole story." Vincent promised.

"I don't want to hear that!" Father announced. "Going through it once was painful enough! Mary, can I offer you a cup of tea?" Nodding, she took his offered arm.

An hour later, when Father came back to check on the children, he found them all sound asleep. Vincent was in Mary's rocking-chair, a peacefully sleeping Jonathan in his arms. His eyes were closed, his expression one of deep contentment and, to Father's shock, he was purring loudly. His eyes opened briefly and he acknowledged his father's presence with a smile before shutting them again.

Father went back to his chamber, his head full of disturbing thoughts.

**************

"Vincent?"

Vincent raised his eyes from his book to find his chamber full of children.

"What can I do for you?"

The children looked at each other. Finally Kipper stepped forward "Well, this afternoon, we were going to swim at the Mirror Pool…"

"Yes?"

"And usually it's Zach who comes with us, because Father doesn't want us to go on our own…"

"….but he can't come today, he's in the Pipe Chamber with Pascal!" Samantha went on.

"And Jamie can't come either, and we couldn't find anyone else!" Geoffrey added.

"Except you!" Eric said hopefully.

"So you want me to take you to the Mirror Pool?"

"Please, Vincent!" Samantha pleaded

Little Amanda grasped Vincent's hand. "Yes, come, Vincent! You'll take me in your arms to where it's deep, and teach me to swim like Zach does!"

Vincent saw the other children exchange uneasy looks. They were aware that he never swam with anyone, because he was reluctant to expose his body, but Amanda didn't know that and she insisted.

"Please, come, Vincent!"

Why not? This could be fun!

Vincent smiled to the young expectant faces. "Just give me five minutes."

***************

Catherine arrived near the hub. She knew Vincent wasn't there, but wherever he was, he was having tremendous fun. He was so absorbed that he wasn't aware of her presence Below yet, and she was suddenly excited at the idea of surprising him, for once. She tried to keep her side of the bond as silent as possible, not wanting to spoil his fun with the bad news she was bringing.

"Catherine! What a nice surprise, we were not expecting you until tonight!"

Mary, carrying a big basket, was coming from a side tunnel that led to the kitchen. Catherine greeted her warmly and grabbed the basket handle.

"Can I help you? This seems awfully heavy!"

Mary smiled. "Vincent took the children to the Mirror Pool for a swim. When William heard about it, he decided to prepare a 'little snack' for them, and I volunteered to take it there before I saw what he meant by 'little'."

Catherine chuckled. "I'll help you carry it, I was coming to see Vincent, anyway."

Father came out of his study as they were passing the entrance.

"Catherine! We didn't expect you so early!" he said, but unlike Mary, he didn't mention a nice surprise… He threw a questioning look at the basket they were carrying, and Mary explained they were taking it to the Mirror Pool.

"I think I'll come with you!" he said. "A little walk will do me good." Catherine couldn't help a suspicious thought, but smiled graciously.

"Of course, Father! Let's go, then!"

She and Mary had to slow their pace a little to allow for Father's more laborious steps, and Catherine was becoming impatient to know what Vincent was doing. She could sense his joyful excitement, and wild feeling of freedom. As they neared the Mirror Pool, Father's head suddenly perked up, and he exchanged a puzzled look with Mary. They quickened the pace when the blurred noises became unmistakable roars and growls, mixed with screams.

Catherine suddenly realized how worried they were and tried to reassure them.

"Father, Mary, it's not what you think! They're just having fun!"

Mary looked at her and slowed down a little with a relieved look, but Father just rushed ahead as if he'd not heard, and they hurried after him. Catching up, Catherine saw terror in his eyes. God, what was he imagining? That Vincent was tearing the kids apart for his own afternoon snack? "Father!" she tried again. "It's all right, they're just playing!"

He didn't even grant her a look, and almost ran the last few yards. At the entrance of the Mirror Pool cavern, he stopped short, eyes wide open in shock. Catherine and Mary carried their basket to a rock near the pool bank, smiling at the scene in front of them.

Vincent, wearing only a bathing suit, was squatting on a rocky boulder, in the shallow part of the pool, his lips pulled back in a menacing snarl, his claws tearing the air. The children, led by Kipper, were running toward him.

"Catch him, catch the lion!" screamed the boy. But just as they were close, Vincent, with a powerful roar, leapt over their heads to land on another rock and growled at them again, eliciting shrieks of delighted terror. Even four year old Amanda took part in the "lion chase" running and shouting with the others in the shallow water, her hand tightly held in Samantha's, but Catherine didn't really look at the children, fascinated by Vincent's almost nudity. The water darkened his fur, making it cling to the hard muscles of a perfectly shaped body. She admired the long, strong legs and powerful thighs, the narrow waist and flat, hard stomach, the width of his shoulders. He took another leap, landing with her back to her, which granted her a sight of rippling dorsal muscles, and wet trunks clinging to rounded, tight buttocks. He was perfect, just gorgeous, and she felt her hands tingle with the need to touch him.

A wave of heat, with a hint of pride, washed over her. She understood Vincent was well aware of her presence, and suspected that last leap had been for her benefit, which he confirmed by looking at her over his shoulder. Then, to her surprise, he distinctly winked.

Catherine giggled, noticing Mary's amused wonder, and Father's still total shock. She sympathized, almost amazed herself at the ease with which Vincent now displayed his differences. To her it was a sure sign that he'd come to accept and trust himself. All of himself.

Vincent decided to end the chase, by granting the victory to his pursuers. He "missed" the next leap and fell on the sandy beach. "Catch him, catch him, don't let him escape!" Kipper screamed, throwing himself down on him. The others all followed, and the "lion" succumbed to the number, his decreasing roars smothered under a joyful tangle of wet squirming bodies.

Catherine laughed out loud, elated at the wonderful freedom she felt in Vincent as he released that playful side usually kept in check under his quiet, solemn demeanor.

Mary laughed along with her, but one look at Father's stern face sobered them up instantly. To say that he was displeased with his son's unusual behavior would have been putting it mildly. He looked positively outraged. He started toward the group, obviously intending to put an end to that offending display.

"Ouch! Hey, watch your nails!" Samantha sat up, angrily rubbing her arm, and the game abruptly ended.

"Let me have a look!" Father examined the long scratch, from which blood had begun to ooze, and, instantly jumping to what seemed to him the obvious conclusion, threw his son a stern look. "Vincent, what came over you? You should know better! See what you've done!"

Catherine physically felt the impact of those harsh words on Vincent, like an icy wind freezing everything on its passage. Suddenly all was cold, still, and gray in his heart. She could almost see the high walls rebuilding themselves to lock away the freedom and laughter. She could feel fear, guilt and self-loathing rushing back, as he lowered his head like a chastised child under his parent's reproachful stare.

"I'm sorry, Samantha!" he mumbled, and before anyone could say anything he got up, picked up his cloak and boots and walked briskly away.

Chapter 3

"Vincent!" Catherine started after him, picking up the rest of his clothes and his towel on the way. His only answer was to walk faster, and she felt the bond shrink to a mere trickle. He was trying to shut her away!

A deadly silence followed Vincent's reaction, soon broken by Samantha's vehement protest. "But, Father, it's not Vincent who scratched me! It's Geoffrey! Vincent's careful! And now he's upset, and it's all your fault!"

Catherine didn't look back to see how Father reacted to that. She hoped Vincent was going to stop, if only to put his boots on, and she could catch up with him. He had not succeeded in shutting the bond completely, and what she felt from him frightened her. He was in such despair! If she let him go now, he might never come back! Her heart sank at that thought.

To her relief, she soon felt him stop. She followed her sense of him to what appeared to her as a dead end, until she saw the entrance of a low, narrow gallery half hidden by a rock. Yes, there!

She had to go down on her knees to enter, helping her progression with her free hand, oblivious of the uneven rocky floor. After ten feet or so the tunnel took a sharp turn and she emerged in a cavern she'd never seen.

Vincent was there, in the darkest corner, He was sitting on his cloak, his arms around his folded knees, rolled into a tight ball of wretched misery.

"Please, Catherine go away! I need to be alone!"

Ignoring his words, she walked straight to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Vincent…"

He shrugged her hand off and turned away from her. "Leave me, please!"

She sat down close to him without touching him again. "I won't leave you. My place is with you, and if you leave me I'll die!" she said in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone. "I love you, Vincent!"

He moaned as if her words caused him unbearable pain.

"Catherine, it was a dream. I dared to dream and forgot what I am! You've seen for yourself that releasing…that part of myself was a mistake! Father was right. I am dangerous even to those I love. Our beautiful dream must end here, for I would die if I ever hurt you, Catherine!"

"You could never hurt me. I know it, and you know it, too! Father is wrong, Vincent! He was wrong in accusing you. You didn't hurt Samantha, Geoffrey did!"

That earned her a quick look, before he turned his face away again. "I could have!" he grimly replied.

"Certainly not! I was watching you, remember? While all the children were piling up on top of you, I saw you extend your arms on the side and bury your nails in the sand." He turned a puzzled, incredulous frown to her. "Vincent, I promise you I saw it! You didn't do it consciously, maybe, but you made sure you wouldn't hurt the children!"

She knew she had made a point as she sensed a tiny ray of hope work its way through his battered soul, but he wasn't convinced. “I will not take such risks anymore!" He shook his head stubbornly, his wet hair projecting droplets around. Catherine decided not to insist, for the moment. She rose to retrieve the towel she'd brought and came back to him.

"I brought your clothes, but first you should dry yourself a little." She came to kneel behind him, and gently rubbed his damp hair with the towel."

"Catherine!" he protested, trying to evade her hands.

"Sshh, it's all right, darling! Please let me do this for you!"

Aware of her determination under the gentle, soothing tone, he sighed his surrender. Still convinced that their beautiful dream had to end, he felt unable to refuse her, and himself, that small comfort. The future, whatever way he looked at it, seemed to hold only unbearable pain for both of them, and he allowed himself to enjoy the present moment while it lasted, even relaxing slightly under Catherine's hands.

Sensing Vincent's acceptance, Catherine relaxed, too, and set to the task of drying his hair, trying to keep her touch light and tender, one of comfort rather than sensuality. That, she hoped, might come later, but for now her only wish was to relieve some of the pain Father's words had caused Vincent and coax him out of that prison of despair he'd locked himself in again.

Satisfied that his hair was as dry as she could make it, she pushed it aside to rub the towel on his powerful shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shudder under her hands. She massaged them with a gentle, caring insistence until she sensed the tension ease away. She continued down his back, patiently rubbing his fur dry. It looked temptingly soft, but she dared not touch him with her bare hands. Not yet. When she got close to the waistline of his shorts, a sudden tightening warned her not to go any further. She sent a warm, reassuring current through the bond and felt a timid, grateful answer.

Moving to his right side, she took his forearm and lifted it from his folded leg, gently pulling to extend his arm. His hand was closed into a tight fist, and she softly coaxed it open. Tears came into her eyes when she saw beads of blood where the nails had dug into his palm. Oh, my love, why do you do that to yourself? She met his tortured gaze and swiftly brought the hand to her mouth to kiss the wounded palm. "My hand!" she whispered, looking straight into his eyes before they evaded hers again.

She was aware of the fight in Vincent, as a part of him that had tasted freedom rebelled against the re-established boundaries. She kept a firm hold on her own arousal to convey only calm, loving waves to him through the bond as she moved the towel along his arm, drying him as thoroughly as she could, until she knew he was quietly enjoying her touch.

Then she did the same for his other arm, but this time, she ran her fingers into the thick fur covering his forearm, and allowed some of the pleasure she found in touching him to seep through the bond. She had wanted this for so long!

A surge of warmth answered her, from behind the weakening walls that held Vincent's sensuality in now precarious check. Edging closer, Catherine ran the towel up the powerful biceps to his collarbone, then down to the wide, heaving chest. The silky fur there was almost dry already, and while one of her hands wielded the now useless towel, she let the other one run freely in the warm softness, enjoying the contrast with the hard, quivering pectorals underneath. She stifled a moan of delight, resisting the need to bury her face close to his wildly beating heart, and bask in the feel of him. She felt Vincent's halting breath on her burning cheeks, and the tumult of his conflicting emotions roared through the bond.

Vincent tried to hold on to his slipping control, but how could he do that when half of himself was fighting on Catherine's side? When every touch, every sensation brought him back closer to the belief that this was right between them? Her hands on his naked skin were the sweetest, most exhilarating feeling he'd ever experienced, and he knew she was getting great pleasure from it as well. How could such joy be wrong?

Yet when he felt Catherine's fingers slip down his abdomen, when he knew she'd soon discover the throbbing erection that distended the light fabric of his bathing trunks, shame and fear surged back up in a desperate counterattack. Seizing her wrist, he stopped her movement and eased her off him, turning his face away. From deep inside him rose a frustrated, despising snarl. You chicken!

Catherine didn't let that momentary setback deter her. She was aware of Vincent's highly aroused state, and decided to take things a bit more slowly for a while. Only for a while.

With a smile, she knelt in front of him and retrieving her towel, began to work on one of Vincent's big, furry feet. His head turned back abruptly to look at her, wonder filling his darkened eyes.

She beamed to his surprised face, and quietly went on drying his leg, working her way up to his knee, and beyond, with a tantalizing slowness. She progressed up his hard, muscular thigh, seemingly very absorbed in toweling already dry fur, while the only thing she could think of was what waited only a few inches away. She tried hard not to look at it, though the sizable bulge was difficult to ignore. She edged slowly closer, progressively releasing her control on the bond to let Vincent share her arousal, and felt him stiffen, not in fear, she realized joyously, but in expectation.

Abruptly, she withdrew and went back to his other foot, as if she intended to dry it, too.

She felt it happen, right then, as she had hoped. The acute frustration caused by her sudden retreat was strong enough to overcome the remaining fears. The walls came tumbling down and the now familiar warm wildness surged through the bond. Her Vincent was back, all of him!

"Gotcha!" she thought triumphally as a strong arm reached for her to pull her close. Then she stopped thinking when a greedy mouth came down on hers, taking her into a whirl of pure sensation.

They clung together with a desperate strength. They had come so close to losing each other again! Yes, so close! Vincent thought, unconsciously tightening his hold on Catherine. Hearing his fears and doubts expressed by the one voice he'd trusted all his life had given them a new strength, and he'd almost let them engulf him again. But Catherine had saved him. The gentle, loving magic she'd patiently woven around him had once more driven the fears away, and brought him back to where he truly belonged. Back to the wonderful warmth of her love.

He pulled himself away from her mouth to look at her. Her lips were swollen by his kisses, her flushed cheeks and dark emerald gaze spoke of her desire, for him. Him! His heart almost bursting with love, he cupped her face in his palm.

"Thank you, Catherine!" he said with emotion.

She smiled almost mischievously.

"You're very welcome!"

"Oh, Catherine, can you forgive me? I listened to my fears again, I forgot to have faith in our love. I almost lost you!"

She turned her face slightly to lay a kiss on his hand. " Never, my love! You could never lose me! And I won't let you get lost again!" She looked straight into his eyes, her soul in her gaze. "You’ll never be alone any more, Vincent!" she promised.

He felt the total, irrevocable commitment behind her words, and knowing deep inside that it could be no other way, he simply nodded his acceptance, offering his own soul, his own life in return. "And I will be with you, Catherine, always, if you will have me."

She took his hand in hers to look at the red puncture marks made by his claws. Shaking her head, she tenderly kissed every one of them before raising her eyes to meet his again.

"Vincent, I want you to touch me." she said. In answer to his questioning look, she undid the first button of her blouse, and brought his hand to her naked skin, before releasing it. "Please!" she softly insisted.

Vincent's breath stopped for a second. What she was asking of him… is only what you both need, so what are you still waiting for? The contact of Catherine's warm flesh shattered his doubts, as he allowed the most instinctive part of himself free rein. His other hand rose to work on the buttons, and soon the blouse opened on a sight that made him swallow hard. A mere wisp of satiny lace, revealing rather than hiding, enclosed small, but perfectly shaped breasts. As he was fascinatedly filling his eyes with the vision, he saw the pointed tips harden under the fabric that covered them just barely, calling for his touch. His hands answered the call of their own will, rising to cup the warm twin mounds, while his thumbs tentatively brushed the sensitive nipples, causing them to harden further.

Catherine's jolt of pleasure went through him as an electric shock, and he took a few seconds to enjoy the moment. He looked at his hands, his heavily furred, deadly-nailed hands, on Catherine's fair skin and delicate lingerie, both awed at the sight and elated at how well they fit there, reveling in the deep certainty that at last his hands had found where they belonged. He let Catherine's pleasure at his touch mingle with his own delight, savoring their shared excitement. Deep inside him the hunger grew. He had to taste this tender flesh!

Catherine's hand rose between his to undo a hidden clasp. Vincent gently pushed the bra apart to reveal rosy, creamy treasures that made his mouth water, and his hungry eyes met Catherine's darkened gaze. Her breath was coming in short pants, telling him of her impatience, of a need already inundating the bond.

He lowered his head to nuzzle the hollow of her throat, taking in the sweet, familiar scent that was his Catherine, mingled with a stronger, wilder note that spoke of her arousal. His tongue flicked out to taste her skin, causing her to moan in sweet pain. With an agonizing slowness, he kissed and tasted his way down, sharing every sensation with her through their wide open bond. His hands cupped the soft weight of Catherine's breasts as he buried his face between them, breathing heavily. His thumbs caressed the erect nipples, exploring their tight, puckered texture, and his mouth finally moved to enclose one of them, eliciting a small cry of pleasure.

In answer to both his need and Catherine's, he began to suckle greedily, assuaging a lifelong craving that went much further than mere sexual desire. It was the desperate longing of a child who'd never known a mother's breast, of a boy who'd hopelessly dreamed of a woman's touch, of a man who'd given up all hope that such happiness might ever be for him. And as he finally drenched his thirst at his beloved's breast, the sweet milk of her love and pleasure flowing into him through the bond, Vincent felt his bliss couldn't have been more complete.

Until he felt Catherine's hand move down his chest and his stomach, her aim clear. A last, faint current of fear rose, soon drowned by the surge of rapture that washed through him when her hand gently pushed his shorts down to get hold of his hardened flesh. He lifted his face from her breast to look at her, to make sure, and met a warm, tender smile as her certainty flowed on him. Her fingers began a slow stroking movement, while her other hand pulled his head back down to her. Vincent stopped thinking, all his awareness concentrated on both the incredible sensation of Catherine's touch on him, and her own waves of pleasure as he now gave his most tender attention to her other nipple. His palms were stroking, caressing her body, as her small, strong hand moved up and down his pulsing erection, every stroke bringing him closer to ecstasy. He let those sensations engulf him, caught into matching, accelerating rhythms, unable now to tell where his own pleasure ended and Catherine's began. As one they rode the waves of rapture that carried them higher and higher until they went over the edge together, moaning each other's name. Vincent arched against Catherine, feeling the contractions deep at her core and matched them with his tongue on her breast to heighten her pleasure as his seed erupted out between them.

Catherine came slowly back to earth, tightly held in Vincent's arms. She could hardly believe what they had just shared, and they hadn't even made love! His mouth still held her nipple, his tongue caressing her lovingly, and she tightened her own hold on his still rigid organ, marveling at his strength and size. He was so thick her fingers couldn't meet around him, and slick with the proof of the wonderful pleasure they had shared through he bond. She let out a blissful sigh, enjoying all those sensations for a few more seconds, before she'd allow the exigencies of her other world to claim her again.

Chapter 4

Finally she gently lifted his head from her breast. "Vincent!" she whispered.

Alarmed by the change in her feelings, he looked at her. "Catherine? What's wrong?"

She saw his eyes examine her naked skin, and felt the panic rise in him at the thought that he'd lost control with his hands and mouth on her. She hastened to reassure him with a gentle smile and a warm loving current. "It's all right, love! You felt what I felt, you know it was wonderful!"

"Catherine, it was…much more than that! It was…I have no words!"

She gently caressed his cheek. "No need for words, beloved, I was there too!". She sighed, there was no easy way to announce what she had to say. "I hate to, but right now I have to go!"

His head snapped up in surprise. "Catherine, why?"

"Vincent, surely you know I really don't want to go, not now, not after what we shared! Believe me, there's nothing I could want more than to stay here, with you…and continue what we have started!" She emphasized her words with a lingering caress on his softening length, delighted to feel it stir again under her hand. "But I can't stay! That's what I was coming to tell you. A new witness has been found, and Joe and I have to go to Boston tonight to get her deposition tomorrow. It opens new aspects in the case, but the judge has only accepted a suspension until next Wednesday, and we'll have to work night and day if we want to be ready by then! I'm sorry, Vincent!"

"When do you think you will be back?"

"If that witness is what we hope her to be, it might be finished on Wednesday night, Thursday night at worst, and as soon as it's over, I'll hurry back to you. Believe me, I won't lose a second!"

He felt her sorrow and frustration, and stifled his own acute disappointment to comfort her. "Please don't be sorry, Catherine! Your work is important! We will find the time to…continue afterwards." he added with a sparkle in his eyes, gently thrusting in her hand.

She giggled and reluctantly let go of him with a sigh. "I must fly! I should already be Above by now! Joe's going to kill me, but I don't care, it was definitely worth it!" She kissed him lightly and stood up, her legs a bit unsteady.

"I'll walk you back." Vincent started to rise, too, but she stopped him.

"No, please, Vincent!" she felt his surprise and smiled down at him. "Stay just as you are! This is the memory I want to keep with me during the next five days…and nights!"

While readjusting her clothes, she took her time to thoroughly survey the whole length of him, filling her eyes with a sight so long denied. God, had he any idea of how gorgeous he looked? She consciously let her vision of him filter through the bond, so that he’d never again doubt how beautiful he was.

Vincent remained perfectly still under her admiring gaze. Not long ago, he couldn't even have imagined Catherine looking at his body this way, and now he lay open, vulnerable in front of her, in the aftermath of pleasure. He was aware of his disheveled state, aware of his reawakening arousal, of the dark sticky stains on his belly's fur, but none of it made him feel in the least self-conscious. It was as if he'd found his primal innocence again, freed from years of self-loathing and shame, reborn through Catherine's love. A lifetime's anguished interrogations about what he was, and the reasons for his existence, had finally found their only possible answer: he was the man Catherine loved, and he had been born to love her. That was all he needed to know, now and forever.

Fascinated, Catherine watched his manhood stir and harden under her eyes, until Vincent growled. "Catherine, if you really want to go, I think you had better go now!" The hunger was back, barely leashed, and, with a sigh, she agreed.

"Yes, if I stay a minute longer, I might not find the courage." She bent to kiss him briefly but thoroughly. "I love you, Vincent!"

"I love you, Catherine."

"I'll come back as soon as I can."

"I know, Beloved. I will be waiting. Take care!"

With a last longing look, she exited the cavern through the crawlway and walked briskly back to the hub, accompanied by the warm current of Vincent's love, enjoying the strength of it. She knew she'd soon have to partially close the bond in order to concentrate on her task, and savored their closeness while it lasted.

As she came near Father's study, she made a quick decision. Joe could wait a few more minutes. She had one or two words to say to a certain person!

"Catherine! Did you find Vincent? Where is he?" The anguished look in the old man's eyes softened her anger.

"Don't worry, Father, Vincent is well, he'll come back very soon!"

She saw the relief wash over him.

"Catherine, you and Vincent have every reason to be angry at me for jumping to false conclusions, but believe me, my reaction was only one of concern. Vincent's behavior was so…"

"Free, joyful, happy, self-assured…?" she prompted.

"Unlike him." he corrected , and only then did he realize what he was admitting.

She looked hard at him. "And it scared you, didn't it? It scared you because it escaped your control, and you're damn well persuaded you have to control everything, especially where Vincent is concerned! I felt what your words did to him, Father." She put her hand on her chest. "I felt it here, and I could have slapped you in the face for it! He had finally come to trust himself, and you broke his spirits, nearly destroyed him just to reassert your authority! If I hadn't managed to catch up with him, we might never have seen him again!" She tried to calm herself, knowing Vincent had felt her outburst through the bond, and sent a reassuring current to him.

Father regained his composure. "I know I deserve some harsh words, Catherine. None of the children has granted me so much as a look since we left the Mirror Pool. I have to apologize to Vincent, and I will…but.." he gave her a stern look "…I still think that Vincent's…er… unusual behavior might lead to danger, and that it was irresponsible of you to push him into it!"

She shook her head. "For God's sake, Father, when will you admit that your son is a grown man, big enough to make his own decisions without being 'pushed'! Vincent has come on his own to the conclusion that he has to accept himself, all of himself, simply because it's the only way for him…for us."

"Catherine, you don't know what you're talking about. That side of him…"

" Sorry, but I happen to know 'that side of him' quite well, now!" she cut in, hoping she didn't look as unbearably smug as she felt. " You don't know it! All you know is its violence, a violence you despise but tolerate, when it's useful for the tunnels' defense. That side of him may be wild, Father, but it's not evil! It's everything that Vincent is, only stronger, more primal. And it can be controlled, but there's no reason you should control it…Please, you've got to trust your son, not with your life, as I know you would, but with his own!"

She glanced at her watch and sighed. Joe was really going to kill her if she missed the plane, and she did need to shower and change her clothes!

"I must go, now, Father, but please try to trust me! You know I'd never do anything to hurt Vincent! He is my life! Our relationship is moving forward, nothing will change that now, and it would be much easier for everyone if you could refrain from…"

"Meddling?" he offered in a sarcastic tone.

"Interfering!" she amended with a smile. In an impulse she hugged him and kissed his cheek, before rushing out of the chamber.

Father remained standing there for a long time, staring at the empty entrance, before walking painfully back to his chair. He sat down wearily, Catherine's reproachful words still burning his ears. He remembered she worked as a prosecuting attorney, though he'd never had the occasion to see that side of her. Now he felt as if he was on the bench in front of her. Had he really done what she accused him of? Had his words really hurt Vincent so much? He replayed the Mirror Pool scene in his mind, and sighed. Yes, to both questions.

Unsettled by the recent modification of his son's behavior, he hadn't even tried to ask himself if it might not be for the better. He'd seen Vincent smile and play, he'd heard him purr and laugh, and instead of feeling happy for him, he'd felt threatened by the changes in his usually quiet and insecure son. And he'd seized the first opportunity to try and reestablish his control, even at the cost of Vincent's blossoming self-esteem. Guilty as charged, Counselor! he thought wryly.

"I happen to know that side of him quite well, now" Catherine had looked so smug when she'd said those words that there was no mistaking their significance. He hoped that she was right, that Vincent's dark side could be controlled , and "tamed", even if it was contrary to his own belief. He still feared things wouldn't be as easy for them as Catherine seemed to think, but there was at least one sizable obstacle he could remove from their way, and that was himself. He wouldn't meddle, or "interfere" any more.

"Father?" He opened his eyes to find Vincent's concerned face in front of him. "Father, are you well?"

He smiled to reassure his son. "Yes, I'm fine, don't worry, Vincent. I was…just thinking. But what about you?"

Vincent grinned widely. "I am well Father! If truth be told," he added with just the same smug look as Catherine's "I cannot remember having ever been so well!"

"Catherine was here a moment ago, on her way Above…."

Vincent nodded. "I know. I felt…her anger."

Father chuckled dryly. "And who could she be angry at, if not me? I more than deserved it, Vincent! What I did was inexcusable, and I must beg your forgiveness."

Vincent put his hand on his father's. "It's forgotten, Father. I know you were worried, and I'm the one to blame for it. Things have happened, lately, that I should have discussed with you, but I was afraid…"

"That it might lead to a confrontation? You were right. I would certainly have done all I could to prevent you from following that path, Vincent," he looked straight into his son's eyes. "and I would have been wrong! The nature of a relationship between two adults is only for them to decide. That's even more true for you, as the love you share with Catherine is something so special that only the two of you can truly understand it. I will be there for you every time you need me, but I won't stand in your way any more."

Vincent hugged his parent, sighing with relief. "Thank you for your understanding, Father!"

The older man smiled ruefully. "Better late than never! And now, my son, could you come with me to see the children? I'm afraid they'll refuse to speak to me until they have seen with their own eyes that you are well and have forgiven me."

Vincent laughed. "Give me half-an-hour to bathe and change my clothes, and we will go."

That caused Father to take a better look at his son, noticing the dry, but tousled hair, and the somewhat sandy clothes. There was a slightly feral sparkle in his eyes, and an aura of self-assured satisfaction surrounded him. Father's boy had definitely grown, and that might take some getting used to.

"Catherine will be back in five days," Vincent announced "and we will go away for some time. We need time together, alone."

Father only nodded, and Vincent left the chamber, sighing. Those five days were going to be the longest of his life.

**************

Chapter 5

From the back of the taxi, Catherine glared at the traffic light. Wouldn’t the damn thing ever turn to green? She tried to calm herself, knowing she needed to let out the trial stress. It had been a near thing. The man knew how to cover his tracks and his defense attorney was a sly old fox, skilled at dismissing evidence as well as manipulating witnesses and jury. But they had won! They had succeeded in removing yet another child molester from the streets! When the sentence had been announced, she had re-opened the bond fully, to let Vincent share her joy and pride, and felt his answering wave of love and praise wash over her, leaving her with an urgent need to be in his arms, at last. How she had missed him during those five days…and nights!

Eager to run to Vincent, she'd gently declined Joe's proposal to celebrate their victory over a drink, but hadn't found any excuse to refuse Jerry's offer to share a taxi. The kid had been tremendously helpful during the last few days.

He was the latest addition to the DA's office, fresh out of law school, and they'd taken him on the case in the hope he'd at least help with the research, but he'd done much more than that. He had a fast, sharply analytical mind and a keen eye to detect a useful detail in a dense page of legal jargon. His input had probably helped them make a difference. She thought that he would be the perfect person to replace her at investigation, for as soon as she came back, she would inform Joe that she would do no more of that. Take it or leave it.

She realized Jerry was talking to her. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I was saying my sister and I inherited that brownstone from an aunt, and that's where I live for the moment. It's well situated, and comfortable, but much too big for me, so I think I'll put it on sale. My sister lives in Illinois, four kids and a mortgaged house, she sure can use the money. And my share will buy me a nice apartment. I like that house, though. It's old-fashioned, but beautiful, with wooden floors and woodwork everywhere. Plenty of space, too, four storeys, and cellars that seem to go down to the center of the earth."

At those words, Catherine's ears perked up, just as the taxi came to a halt in a quiet residential street, in front of an imposing, handsome brownstone. She opened her window to take a better look at it, an idea taking shape at the bottom of her mind. On an impulse, she turned to Jerry. "I'll be away for a week or so, but when I come back I'd very much like to visit this house. I think I know someone who might be interested."

He grinned. "Of course, no problem! Better to sell it directly than through real estate vultures, anyway!"

She stopped his gesture toward his pocket. "No, please, the ride's on me. And I haven't thanked you yet, but you've done a great job! I don't think we could have made it without you!"

He blushed crimson, and got out of the taxi. "Thanks a lot! Bye Miss Chandler."

"Cathy. Goodbye Jerry!"

She tried to relax for the rest of the ride, sharing Vincent's joyful impatience. Soon, my love, soon!

An amazingly short amount of time later, having showered, changed and packed with a speed worthy of a Guinness record, she was descending the iron ladder to the world Below. She didn't need to look down to know that Vincent was there, waiting for her. Before she could reach the ground her bag was taken from her shoulder. She was seized by strong arms and turned around to be crushed against a wide, hard chest.

"Catherine! Oh, Catherine!" The husky words, carried on a warm, halting breath, told everything there was to say.

"Vincent, it's been so long!" she whispered against his throat.

One of his hands came to cup the back of her head, turning her face up, and a hard, demanding mouth descended on hers. She welcomed his hunger, meeting it with a greed of her own. Their tongues met and danced together as their mouths devoured each other in desperate craving.

Her body tightly held against Vincent's, Catherine's feet hadn't had a chance to touch the ground, and her legs went up to lock around his waist, bringing her core closer to the growing hardness she felt. He whimpered in response, and one of his hands came down to her lower back to pull her tighter, the instinctive answering thrust of his hips making her moan too. They began moving together, the close, rhythmic contact between them a source of tantalizing pleasure that only led to further, stronger longing.

They had forgotten where they were, lost in a whirl of shared erotic sensations. All they knew was that there were still too many obstacles between them. Vincent's eager hand insinuated into the waistline of Catherine's jeans to cup her warm bottom, as her own greedy fingers traveled down to work on the fastening of his trousers. So close, now!

A noise over their heads startled them, bringing them back to earth. Reluctantly, they pulled their mouths apart to look at each other, realizing what had nearly happened. Vincent released Catherine to pick up her bag on the ground, and quickly pulled her away through the threshold, to the safety of the tunnel world, where he stopped to face her. She felt the words in his mind before he could utter them, and put her hand on his mouth.

"Don't!" she said firmly. "Don't you dare apologize, Vincent! I'm just as responsible as you are for getting carried away. I want you so much!"

"And I you, Catherine! I was unable to stop…"

"Ssh, darling! We did stop, didn't we?"

"Yes," he reluctantly admitted, "but if there hadn't been that noise…"

"…we would have made love on the threshold between our worlds." she completed with a smile. "Highly symbolic, and not such a bad idea! On a later occasion, maybe…."

He shook his head in wonder. She spoke so easily of making love! He had to admit that in spite of all that had already occurred between them, the prospect of that ultimate physical joining still awed him some, even more as it was getting close…and at the same time he couldn't wait for it to happen!

Thinking too much again! Shouldn't you know better by now? Smiling, Vincent took Catherine's hand. "Come, Beloved!"

On the way they talked of the last five days. Catherine told Vincent about the trial, and he gave her the latest news of the Tunnel community. While listening to him, Catherine couldn't help a sigh. Much as she loved her Tunnel family she had not come down to see them, tonight. She only wanted to be alone with Vincent, and knew that it wouldn't be possible until much later that night, at best. Though privacy was just as important to the people Below as it was to topsiders, they didn't seem to extend the concept to Vincent, and walked in and out of his chamber without so much as announcing themselves. Of course they would grant Vincent and her privacy, if required, yet that would mean making a public statement about their new relationship. Most people there would be happy for them, she knew, but right now other people's attention, however benevolent, was not what they needed.

Suddenly she realized the tunnels around them were not familiar, this was not the usual way to the inhabited tunnels.

"Vincent, have the ways been changed again?" she asked, slowing her pace.

He stopped to face her.

"Catherine, would you mind not going to the main chambers? he asked with his best innocent look. "Maybe it is selfish of me, but I don't want to share you with my family, tonight."

The bond, and a sparkle in his eyes, told that he'd been very aware of her thoughts, and she came against him to hug him hard. "I don't want to share you either, I want you all to myself! I'm afraid I'm awfully selfish too, where you're concerned, but I don't care! We have earned the right to a little selfishness, haven't we?"

His free arm came around her in a possessive hold. "We have indeed, my Catherine!" he murmured in her hair.

Too many times they had allowed the demands of their respective worlds to keep them apart, impede their relationship, intrude on their time together! No more! Tonight they would allow nothing, nobody to come between them.

On that silent promise, Vincent set them in motion again. "Come!"

"Where are we going?"

"Please allow me to make it a surprise." he answered with a somewhat mysterious smile.

She felt his playful anticipation through the bond and grinned. "Mm, I love surprises, Vincent!"

Chapter 6

Soon they found themselves in a place she knew. They were not far from the Mirror Pool, in that tunnel where she'd followed him five days ago. She recognized the low, narrow entrance hidden behind a rocky boulder and raised questioning eyes to him.

He smiled "We'll have to crawl for a short time. I'm afraid there is no other way, Catherine."

She grinned back, happy that he'd decided to take her there. "It's all right, I don't mind, I know it's not long." Getting down on her knees, she entered the gallery, Vincent behind her.

It was dark. She hadn't noticed the first time how dark it was, too worried about Vincent to care about anything else. Only a faint light could be seen a few yards ahead and she progressed toward it on her hands and knees, lowering her head to avoid the irregularities of the ceiling. A stone rolled under her hand, causing her to almost lose her balance. She stopped abruptly and Vincent who followed her close, bumped into her from behind.

"Oh, sorry.." she started, but stopped with a gasp when a powerful wave of raw hunger washed over her. She heard a low growl and felt his body mold itself tight to hers, his arousal evident. Never had she felt the wildness in him so close to the surface, and her body immediately responded, attuned to his desire at the most primal level. She instinctively pushed backwards, taunting him, daring him to take her now in that dark crawlway, her knees suddenly weak with the need to feel him inside her. Now, oh, please, now!

Summoning a strength of will he'd never known he possessed, Vincent managed to get hold of himself, and resist their shared desire, promising himself this was the very last time he would do so. "Please, Catherine!" he panted, reluctantly releasing her to urge her the rest of the way. Heeding his demand with a soft frustrated moan, she hastily crawled the last few yards. She emerged in the cavern and straightened up, blinking as she looked around her. Last time she'd been there she'd been so focused on Vincent that she'd paid no attention to the place, but she was sure it hadn't looked that way.

It was about the same size as Vincent's chamber, with a somewhat lower ceiling, and a sandy floor now partly covered with threadbare carpets. There were candles everywhere in niches of the rocky walls, and on the stone boulders scattered around the cave, but only a big, long-lasting one was lit, in the corner where she'd found Vincent last time. There a large, thick mattress had been laid on the carpeted ground, covered with a quilt, a few cushions adding a cozy, welcoming touch. Their bed! She thought of the hard time Vincent must have had hauling all this through the crawlway and turned a delighted face to him.

"Oh, Vincent, it's perfect, just wonderful, thank you, my love!"

She felt his pleasure at her appreciation, but there was a touch of embarrassment in him, too, and she knew why. She came against him, locking her arms around his neck to hold him close, and nuzzled his throat.

"I would have loved that, Vincent!" she whispered in a suggestive voice.

He pulled away to stare at her in awe. The wide open bond left no place to doubt, and he knew that she truly meant it. Had he followed his wildest instinct in the dark crawlway, torn her clothes away to violently thrust into her as he'd felt the almost irresistible urge to, she would have welcomed it with a matching need, an equal savagery. What's so strange about that? the voice snorted derisively. She's your mate, the one meant for you! There's nothing you could want from her that she doesn't want too!

Elated, a wild feeling of freedom coursing through his whole being, he lifted her from the ground to swing her around, laughing to her surprised face. "Oh, Catherine, you will never cease to amaze me!"

As he finally put her back on her feet their gazes met and locked with sudden intensity. Slowly, he lowered his head to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. She molded her body to his solid strength, rubbing herself sensuously against him, until she couldn't stand any more. Parting her lips slightly from his, she whispered an urgent plea.

"Love me now, Vincent! Please don't make me wait any longer."

"I won't!" he growled against her mouth. "The waiting is over, Catherine!" he added, sweeping her up in his arms to walk to the bed. There he put her back on her feet and gently took her coat off, laying it on a stool nearby.

His eyes locked on hers, he started undressing her with slow, caressing gestures. With an impatient moan, she raised her hands to help him, but he pushed them off. "Please, let me." he husked, fumbling to find the clasp of her bra, the fleeting contact of his fingers on her naked skin making her moan again in sweet torture.

Soon she was bare to the waist and he couldn't help running his hands on her satiny skin, as if to make sure that she was real, that she was his.

"Vincent!" she pleaded.

Gently he urged her down to the bed and knelt in front of her to remove her shoes and socks. Making her lie down, he undid the fastening of her trousers to pull them off. As he was filling his eyes with the sight of his beloved's almost bare body, her scent rose to his nostrils, telling him of her arousal, of her urgent need. Swiftly he removed the last wisp of lace that covered her and stood up. For a few seconds he remained still, looking at his Catherine.

He was towering over her, still fully dressed, a living image of power as she in her turn lay naked and totally vulnerable in front of him. She could feel the strength of his desire through the bond, too, still under iron control, and knew he needed that short time to reassure himself before taking the final step. She relaxed under his searing gaze, letting him feel her complete trust and certainty. There was no ignoring the utter eroticism of the moment, though, and the strength of her own desire soon couldn't allow the waiting to last any longer.

"Vincent, please!" she could hardly recognize the mewling plea as her own voice, all she knew was that she'd surely go mad if he didn't come to her.

He knelt down near the bed and let his hand run down the length of her body in a both soothing and tantalizing caress. "Soon, Catherine!" he promised, and stood up again to undress quickly under her avid eyes. She watched his golden beauty reveal itself as the clothes disappeared one by one until he was bare to her sight. He stood one more second over her, naked and fully aroused, seeking a last reassurance from the Bond, before joining her at last. They clung to each other, moaning in delight at that first full skin contact.

Vincent felt as if he was going to die from sheer bliss. Nothing in his previous experience could have prepared him to the feeling of Catherine's bare flesh against his. Part of him wanted to make the moment last, savor this intimate contact and take time to thoroughly explore his beloved's body, inch by precious inch.

He would, later. Now was not the time. Now both his flesh and Catherine's were crying out for completion, now the Bond urgently demanded that their bodies be joined, as their souls had always been.

He came over her, carefully but leaving enough of his weight on her that she could feel it and she welcomed it with a moan, instantly wrapping her thighs around his waist to hold him tight. He could feel the wet warmth of her against his throbbing flesh, and it was almost more than he could stand.

"Catherine!" he groaned, before taking her mouth in a greedy kiss. He felt her small eager hand travel down and couldn't help a muffled growl when she got hold of him. He broke the kiss to meet her darkened eyes.

"Now, Vincent!" she breathed, guiding him to her wet, waiting core. The heat of her called out to him, she was so ready!

"Forever, Catherine." he husked as he entered her gently at first, conscious of his size, amazed that she could take him in at all. She was so small, and tight, but he felt her flesh yield to him, welcome him, and in a mighty thrust he sank blissfully into his Catherine.

"Forever." she answered, the end of the word lost in a gasp as she felt him inside her at last. She'd never had the smallest doubt about the possibility of it, to her it was something that just had to be, but the reality of him filling her was beyond her wildest dreams. Vincent was everywhere, on her, around her, inside her body and her soul. In this precious moment he was her whole universe, as she knew she was his, and nothing existed any more outside the boundaries of their bond.

As one, they began to move together, so attuned to each other that their sensations were no more separate, that their shared pleasures merged into a single, powerful wave of rapture. Sensual growls rose to fill the silent cavern, mingled with soft cries. Together they rode the crest of that wave higher and higher as they quickened the pace in a blind, instinctive race for completion. And very soon it was upon them. Vincent's growls built into a full roar and he arched against Catherine to lose himself in her convulsing depths, as they were carried over the edge together in a myriad of shooting stars.

He collapsed on her shoulder, instinctively shifting his weight slightly on the side, still buried deep inside her. They remained silent for a long time, clinging to each other as they floated languorously back down to earth, reluctant to let go of the wonderful oneness they shared and become two separate beings again, even if they knew their connection was now stronger than it had ever been.

Chapter 7

Home. Safe. Those were the first coherent thoughts that came to Vincent's mind as he slowly emerged from a realm of pure sensation. The storms that had ravaged his soul all his life had subsided, and he had finally reached the safe shores of Catherine's love. This was where he belonged, and he knew that she felt the same, that they now had a world of their own, where they could be truly together, forever.

He lifted his head from her shoulder to look at her and met a starry, deep green gaze and a wide, dreamy smile. She was so beautiful! And she was his, now.

"Oh, Catherine, I love you!" he groaned. How weak those words sounded, compared with the strength of the feelings pulsing through their bond, but he needed to say them, he always would, and so would she.

"I love you, Vincent." she answered, pulling him down to kiss him.

The kiss, tender and leisurely at first, grew more and more sensuous and demanding as they clung to each other with renewed desire. Vincent felt a fleeting twinge of uneasiness at wanting Catherine again, so soon, but her own urgent need flowed through the bond to reassure him, and he flexed his hips strongly to sink deeper into her, enjoying her jolt of pleasure even more than his own.

She arched against him with a moan, locking her thighs tight around his waist, taunting him, but he stilled her with a light, slow caress on her side. Their first time had been fast, completely instinctive, and he understood it couldn't have been otherwise, but now he needed to take his time. He wanted to savor every second of it.

Catherine instantly complied and relaxed in his arms, letting him set the pace of their lovemaking, explore the world of physical love in his own way. She felt a grateful loving wave and he smothered her with tender kisses, nuzzling her hair and neck, finding sensitive places to nip and lick while he began to move inside her in a slow, leisurely rhythm.

The sensation of her hot, tight flesh enclosing him, drawing him in was wonderful, but her own rapture flowing over him through the bond was what felt the most incredible to Vincent. The realization that his body, that for so long he'd thought unfit to touch her, could bring such pleasure to his Catherine evoked a stunned disbelief, mingled with deep, proud joy. He wanted the moment to last and kept his own need under tight control to savor her every reaction. He grasped her thigh and pulled it high, opening her to him as he changed the angle and depth of his thrusts to give her more pleasure. He brought her close to the edge several times, only to slow down to a quieter pace, not wanting it to end too soon.

Catherine writhed under Vincent, moaning his name, and deep inside he marveled that he could keep his control while fully sharing her wild sensations. Soon, though, he knew that he couldn't delay it much longer. Catherine's need for completion was too compelling to be ignored, and her flesh clung at his greedily as she arched against him, begging for release.

"Now, oh please now, Vincent!" she groaned in his neck.

He pulled away slightly to look at her. "Yes, now, my Catherine." he promised. His eyes locked on hers, he began to move deeply, setting a hard, fast rhythm that sent her reeling. Soon he felt her begin to peak and clung to his control, wanting to share it fully with her. But when he felt her sheath contract around him and her orgasm engulfed him, there was no resisting the strength of their connection. In a last, powerful thrust, he gave himself completely to Catherine, and joined her in that wonderful place where they were truly one.

Catherine dreamily caressed Vincent's hair as they cuddled together, exhausted. She had always suspected that he'd be a wonderful lover, but the reality of it went beyond her wildest imaginings. If she hadn't been absolutely certain that he'd had no previous experience, she might have found it hard to believe. He had loved her with such assertiveness and innate skill!

Her musings must have permeated the bond, for she felt him stir. "Tell me?" he enquired, his voice still somewhat breathless.

She chuckled. "I was just thinking that you're a very fast learner, my love!"

A warm wave of love, with a touch of smug pride washed over her as he caressed her breast tenderly. "Catherine, I feel what you're feeling. Your pain is my pain, and your pleasure…." he brushed her nipple with his thumb, causing her to whimper softly "…is my pleasure. How could it be otherwise? I should have known, but I was so sure that I could never be what you wanted me to be, that a body such as mine could never give you pleasure…"

She smiled mischievously. "Well, you know better, now, don't you?"

"Definitely." he solemnly admitted. "Though I still find it hard to believe. Oh, Catherine, forgive me for doubting!"

"There's nothing to forgive, my love" she said tenderly. "we're here now, and it's all that matters.

They snuggled together, enjoying blissful satisfaction, until Vincent's head suddenly jerked up. "Catherine, I believe you're hungry! How long has it been since you last ate?"

She giggled, a hand on her rumbling stomach. "Sorry, not very romantic, is it? We didn't have time for lunch."

"And maybe you didn't have much of a breakfast either!" he gently reproached, disengaging himself from her. "Let me prepare something."

She sat up, too. "Thank you. Food will be welcome, but before, is there a place where I could wash a little?"

He looked at her, disheveled, her hair damp with sweat. He, too, was feeling somewhat sticky.

"Of course. Please wait a moment." He stood up and walked to a corner of the chamber, disappearing into a side tunnel she hadn't seen yet. Looking around, she noticed that the chamber was now much darker than it had been when they'd arrived. It probably got some outer light, in the same mysterious way as the Mirror Pool, and night had fallen Above. It was warm here, too, she reflected, much warmer than in the rest of the Tunnels.

She understood why when Vincent came back a minute later and lifted her in his arms to carry her through a short passage into a much smaller cavern. Steamy water sprang out from one of the walls to fill a rounded natural pool. She saw Vincent had lit candles in niches of the rocky walls, and laid out towels, soap and shampoo.

She beamed up to him. "A hot spring! How wonderful! I've always dreamed of sharing one of those with you, Vincent!" Smiling back, he lowered her carefully into the water before joining her.

"So have I, my Catherine!" he answered in a deep voice, pulling her close. "This is a secret place of mine, that only Devin knows about. We discovered it together shortly before he went away, and maybe it was selfish of me, but I never wanted to share it with anyone else. I needed a place where I could be alone, to think, and to dream." He drew back slightly to look into her eyes. "Later, when you came into my life, this is where I would come to dream of you. Dreams of things forbidden, that shamed me…but brought me so much joy, too, even though I knew they must remain forever unfulfilled. Oh, Catherine, you have made all my dreams come true!"

Her throat too tight to speak, she hugged him hard, silently promising him, with all the strength of her love, that his years of aloneness were over. He crushed her against him in an almost desperate embrace, needing to persuade himself that this time it wasn't a dream.

She felt his renewed arousal and pulled away slightly to look at him with mischievous eyes.

"Tell me, Vincent, what did I do in your dreams?" Her hand left his shoulder to travel sensuously down his muscled chest, reveling in his hard strength. She found a small, well hidden nipple on the way and teased it lightly, eliciting a whimper. "Did I touch you like this? Or…" Her fingers slid down his tight stomach to find his hard throbbing flesh and caress it tenderly. He moaned with rapture, leaning into her touch, and she laughed softly. "Yes, like this, rather."

"Catherine!" Suddenly shy, he nodded, hiding behind the curtain of his hair. How he had yearned for the touch of her hands on him! Alone, in the wet heat of this hidden chamber, he had dreamed of this, and of all that he knew he could never have. And on a few occasions, the call of his yearning flesh too insistent to be ignored, he'd let his own hands replace hers on his body and bring a momentary, frustrating release. A brief instant of dizzying pleasure soon smothered by shame and guilt for having soiled the purity of their love, allowed her revered image to mingle with the satisfaction of his animal needs.

"Vincent!" Her more intent touch brought his eyes back to her, to meet a sweet, understanding smile. "It's all right. I'm glad I could help you sometimes, if only in your dreams. You were not the only one, I dreamed too! Surely you must know it!"

He nodded again, this time with a smile. How could he have ignored it? For his sake, she'd kept her desires under tight control, but she had no power over her dreams, dreams that had grown more insistent and precise with time, often keeping him awake in sweet torment. Her dreams had been the cause of more than one late-night dive into the icy water of some subterranean pool, in a futile attempt to calm the fire in his blood. Sometimes he would even be caught in his own sleep, swept away into rapturous sensations and a glorious release, guilt and shame catching up with a vengeance as he awakened to face the torturing hopelessness of their situation.

Yes, he'd been well aware of Catherine needs, and of how much she was denying them for his sake. He knew that her love for him was the cause of her frustrations, depriving her of the physical love she deserved, but he could never give her, because of what he was. Yet he knew it would kill him if she sought that fulfillment from another…as if she ever would! For so long he'd refused to see there was only one way out of their tragic predicament!

All that was in their past, now, and the hopeless dreams had miraculously turned into blissful reality. His smile widened as his hand slowly trailed down Catherine's soft curves, teasing her nipple on the way in loving retaliation. He hardly brushed her stomach, feeling it flutter and tense as his hand continued down to finally cup her silky curls, his eyes locked on hers. She smiled back and opened her legs slightly to give him better access, her own hand still caressing him gently.

Eager to learn her secrets, Vincent insinuated a finger beyond the yielding barrier of hair to explore her soft folds. Wary of his sharp nails, he touched her very carefully at first, getting bolder as her sensations reassured him. He soon found her most sensitive place and was surprised by her jolt of sharp pleasure. He caressed her there for a moment, delighted to feel her tense and arch under his touch, before continuing his tender exploration.

He found her small opening and slid a cautious finger inside, making her whimper. Her flesh felt so delicate, so fragile! How had he not hurt her? Then her muscles contracted around his finger with surprising strength to remind him that her fragility was only apparent, that he could not, would not hurt her, because she was the one made for him.

The mere thought of how her tight sheath had clenched around his flesh was almost more than he could stand. He instinctively thrust in her hand, seeking friction, and his finger started a matching movement inside her, while his thumb sought her hidden nub..

Catherine moaned and leaned into his touch, drawing him deeper as she tightened her hold on his erection, loving his size and strength. She ground her pelvis in his hand, the tantalizing caress of his fingers not enough for her any more. She wanted him inside her. Now!

Her legs parted and came up around him. Answering her need with an urgency of his own, he seized her waist and lowered her gently on his shaft, savoring every second of this deliciously slow impalement until he was once more buried deep inside her. Yes! This was where he belonged. Tightly held in Catherine's body, warmly surrounded by her love, Vincent truly felt at home, and a wave of overwhelming joy swept over him.

"Oh, Catherine!" She drew away a little to look at him. He was literally beaming, all his teeth displayed in the widest smile she'd ever seen on him, the elation she felt through the bond radiating in his eyes.

She beamed back. "I know, love! I can hardly believe it too! It's so wonderful!" She moved slightly, tightening her muscles around his throbbing flesh, delighted to feel his jolt of pleasure through the bond. "Mmmmm!" she purred, rubbing her breasts on his chest. "I love to feel you inside me Vincent!"

His answering thrust took her breath away and she moaned softly, looking at him with widened, darkened eyes. He was still smiling, with a hint of virile pride that delighted her. He pulled her close to kiss her, his hands caressing her body as his hips flexed against her in a slow, steady rhythm.

They made love in a leisurely, playful way, small waves of warm water lapping gently around them as they moved. They kept smiling to each other between tender, lingering kisses, fully savoring, beyond the rapturous sensations, the simple joy of being at last together, truly together. They kept that quiet pace for as long as they could, until the need for completion became too imperious to be delayed. They were so close by then that a single powerful thrust was enough to send them both over the edge, clinging to each other inside and out as he erupted inside her.

Chapter 8

When the waves of rapture finally subsided, Vincent pulled away to look at Catherine. "Weren't we supposed to bathe?" he chuckled.

"Yes, but something better came up!" she answered with a leer, contracting her inner muscles around him.

He feigned shock "Catherine!" but his eyes were shining.

She giggled and poked playfully at his chest. "Vincent, it's possible that one day you and I can be together in a warm pool and think only of bathing, but I can't see that day coming anytime soon! Maybe when we're very old…"

The casual way she evoked their future made Vincent's mind reel, but she was right of course. Their love was forever. They would grow old together and love each other, want each other, always.

He smiled. "Extremely old, then!" He thrust gently against her. "Oh, Catherine, you feel so good! I never want to let you go!"

She sighed. "I know, I'd like to stay like this forever, too, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be very practical. Imagine walking back to the main chambers!"

He chuckled. "The look on Father's face would certainly be priceless!"

"And think what an entrance we'd make in the DA's office!" At the thought of Joe's expression, she couldn't help laughing. To her delight Vincent's deep rumbling laughter echoed hers. This was a sound she'd never heard before, and she decided she wanted to hear it every day of her life from then on.

Finally they slipped apart and Vincent put her back gently on her feet.

"Let's bathe, Catherine, then I'll see to our dinner."

The thought of food brought Catherine back to more mundane matters. She was indeed starving and grabbed the shampoo. "May I wash your hair? I've wanted to do it for so long!"

"Catherine!"

"Strictly business, honest! I'm too hungry to think of anything else."

Vincent chuckled and ducked under the water to wet his hair. They washed each other quickly, with tender, loving gestures, enjoying the intimacy without letting themselves get carried away. When they were finished, Vincent climbed out of the pool. "Stay a little longer, Catherine, while I tend to our meal."

She relaxed in the water to enjoy the sight of Vincent toweling himself dry, his body shining like dark gold in the flickering light, his taut, clearly delineated muscles moving smoothly under his skin as he rubbed his fur with energy. The thought of dinner began to recede from Catherine's mind…

Shaking his head with an indulgent smile, Vincent draped the towel around his waist with a flourish. "Food!" he said firmly, and exited the bathing chamber, followed by Catherine's laughter.

After a few minutes she got out of the pool and dried herself thoroughly. She tied her wet hair in a towel, wrapped another one around her body and carefully put out the candles before joining Vincent in the other chamber, now alight with dozens of candles, where delicious smells welcomed her, making her mouth water.

Vincent, wearing only his trousers, was busying himself over a small stove in a corner. Feeling her approach he turned to her and smiled. "Dinner will be ready in a minute, Catherine."

She headed for her bag, intending to take the gown she'd brought, but thought better and picked up Vincent's shirt instead. It went down to the middle of her thighs, and she had to roll the sleeves four times, but it was soft and it smelled so good! She quickly combed her still damp hair and, drawn by the aroma of food, crossed the chamber to circle Vincent's waist from behind.

"Mmm! I know that heavenly smell! It's William's stew, isn't it?"

Vincent stirred the steaming pot and carried it to a small table. "I asked him for practical, easy-to-carry food, which he gave me, but he insisted that tonight at least, we should have a "real" dinner."

Catherine smiled. She knew William was one of her most solid allies in the tunnels. Before the previous winter, wanting to be sure her family Below would never lack the basic necessities, she'd made quiet financial arrangements with a few helpers to provide the community with sufficient food and other useful supplies. Though Vincent had probably guessed, he'd never alluded to it, and she was quite sure Father didn't suspect anything, but William knew better! He treated her with warm affection, and never missed an opportunity to stuff her with food.

"How thoughtful of him! I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!"

Vincent gestured her to one of the two cushions on either side of the low table. "To my knowledge, there is none in this stew. Unless, of course, this is William's famous secret ingredient…"

She giggled. The stew was the tunnel cook's pride, and its recipe his most jealously guarded secret. Remembering something, she rose to go and fumble in her bag, coming back with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. "I thought this might be nice."

"It is indeed. Very thoughtful of you, Catherine."

Carefully, he opened the bottle and poured the fragrant liquid. Taking her glass, she raised it, looking tenderly at him. "To a dream fulfilled!"

"To Love!" he answered in a deep, throaty voice. They drank, lost in each other, the bond shimmering with the blissful certainty of their love.

Finally Vincent broke the spell, remembering Catherine was hungry. "William would never forgive us for letting his stew get cold!"

"A capital sin, indeed!" she agreed, feeling her mouth water as he filled her plate. She dug into it heartily. Two weeks of scant, irregular meals plus a few hours of intensive lovemaking had made her ravenous, and it was not until her plate was empty that she lifted her gaze to meet Vincent's amused eyes. He was not even halfway through his own portion.

"Would you like some more, Catherine?" he asked with just a hint of a chuckle.

She found herself blushing. "Not very ladylike, is it?" and he hasted to reassure her.

"Catherine, I felt how hungry you were. You must take better care of yourself, even when you are working, and I intend to see to that, from now on." he said, serving her a generous second portion.

Under the loving concern, she felt a current of imperious determination that both amused and intrigued her. Vincent's newly found virile assurance didn't show only in bed, and that might lead to a few interesting adjustments in their relationship…She put that thought aside for the moment and went through her second helping more leisurely, enjoying wine and quiet conversation.

Vincent told Catherine about his discussion with Father, and she was relieved to learn that her arguments had finally reached her lover's over-protective parent. She laughed when she heard of the "silence" punishment the children had inflicted on the community leader until he'd made amends to his son in their presence. It always warmed her heart to see how much the tunnel dwellers loved Vincent, and to know that love and care were extended to her, too. Vincent said he'd had to tell a few of his friends about the planned escapade, and they had happily contributed, Rebecca for the candles, William for the food, Mary for the bedding…without any further inquiry or other comment than a warm smile.

He reached behind him and put a cloth-wrapped dish on the table. "William even baked a special dessert for us."

It was William's famous apple and raisins pie which he knew was Catherine's favorite, and they smiled when they saw the pastry crust was decorated with a heart.

"How nice of William, and so romantic! I'll have to go and thank him." Catherine said, deeply moved by the tunnel cook's attention.

By the time they finished their dessert her hunger had left place to a warm feeling of well-being and a slight, wine-induced euphoria. She looked at Vincent, bare-chested and golden in front of her, a sight she'd so long been denied, and let out a blissful sigh. He was magnificent, and he was hers!

He sensed the change in her mood and softly enquired: "Are you still hungry, Catherine?"

She caught the innuendo and let her eyes travel up and down his torso before looking at him with an impish grin. "Not for food!"

He nodded, a sparkle in his blue eyes. "I thought as much. I'm no longer hungry either…for food, I mean."

She rose. "Then let's put all this away."

He smiled at her eagerness. This woman was apparently insatiable! Insatiable…for him, and he felt his own body stir in inevitable response. He was insatiable, too, for her.

Chapter 9

They cleared the table quickly, their minds not really on the task as a warm current of desire began pulsing in their bond. Soon they were through and faced each other, smiling, savoring the moment before giving in to the powerful force that was drawing them together.

Catherine's hands rose to her neck to untie the lace of the shirt she was wearing. She let it slip down her body and stepped out of it, laying it on a cushion. Desire raced through the bond as Vincent's gaze ran on her naked body. She took his hand. "Come, my love."

She led him gently to the bed and turned to face him, burying her face in the hollow of his throat to kiss the tender skin there, and the underside of his powerful jaw. His arms came up to embrace her, but she stopped him with a gentle touch of her hands, letting him know that she wanted him to stand still. He complied, though she could feel him a little intrigued. She began a slow, sensuous travel down his wide chest, taking her time to thoroughly explore every inch, nuzzling in the silky softness of his fur to find the quivery skin underneath. On her way she sought and found his nipples, caressing each of them with a loving tongue, delighted by the sensations it evoked in Vincent, before continuing her way down to the hard, tense muscles of his stomach.

Vincent found it more and more difficult to remain still. His hands were clenched into fists, aching with the need to hold her, and his arousal, tightly constricted by his jeans, was becoming painful. God, did she know what she was doing to him? Of course, she knew! He could share her own delight and growing arousal through the bond and he concentrated on her sensations, smugly happy that his body could evoke such feelings in his Catherine.

Yet when she sank down to kneel on the bed in front of him, nuzzling and kissing her way down his abdomen to the waistline of his jeans, he felt a twinge of uncertainty. She rubbed her cheek sensuously on his still-clad erection, causing him to moan, and looked up at him with a tender smile as her deft fingers began to work on the fastenings of his trousers.

Her intention was clear, and his uncertainty turned into deep unease at the sight of his Catherine in such a submissive attitude at his feet. She couldn't want to…Oh yes, she wants it! Feel how much she wants it? And you want it too, don't you? So why don't you just relax and enjoy?

Relax and enjoy! For a second, Vincent's inner conflict surged again. Part of him accepted Catherine's attentions almost as a due, while the other still felt unworthy of such…worship. Only for a second, though, for then Catherine's hands freed his aching flesh from his jeans, making him sigh with relief. He felt her happy excitement at the sight of him, her eager anticipation of what was to come, and let go of his qualms. It was all right. Right for Catherine to want to give him pleasure. Right for him to accept, and enjoy.

Catherine was not overly surprised by Vincent's hesitation. Despite all that had happened between them, part of him was not quite sure yet that he deserved everything she longed to give him, and she firmly intended to wipe out all his remaining doubts.

Gently, she lowered his jeans down his legs so he could step out of them, and kissed her way up his powerful thighs. Locking her hands on his firm, muscled buttocks, she buried her face in his groin, eliciting a moan. She took her time to thoroughly savor him with all her senses, nuzzling through the soft pubic hair to reach the tender skin, basking in the earthy, spicy scent of his most secret flesh. She rubbed her cheek in the silky fur covering his testes, feeling them quiver and tense under her touch, and kissed the base of his erect penis, loving the smooth hardness under her lips.

Vincent managed to hold still under that sweet torture. What she was doing to him…He felt a strong primal urge to roll her on her back and thrust into her, but in the same time he wanted this to never stop. He could share Catherine's joy at that intimate discovery of him, and the pleasure it gave him went well beyond the physical.

He looked down at her, gloriously naked at his feet, adoring his body with loving delight, and there was not the slightest trace of shame or embarrassment left in him. Only bliss, and a burning arousal that soon couldn't be kept in check any longer. More, he wanted more!

Catherine felt a blazing wave through the bond, as Vincent's soft moans turned to throaty growls, and smiled up to him. The time for teasing was over. Slowly, she kissed and licked her way up the warm column of flesh until she reached the swollen head. Her tongue flicked out to capture the drop of moisture already oozing, and this first taste of him left them both craving for more. Without waiting she took him deep into her mouth, his sharp cry echoed by a sharp surge of pleasure. One of her hands came to circle the base of his erection, and the other caressed and kneaded his testes as her mouth began to move up and down on him. Guiding herself on Vincent's sensations, she increased the rhythm and strength of her strokes, so attuned to his pleasure flowing through the bond that her own wet core was tightening in answer. So close, now…

Vincent's hand came down on her head, his fingers grasping her hair to pull her closer, make her take more of him. He flexed his hips to thrust in her mouth and she deepened her caress on his testes, feeling them gather and tense in preparation. Yes, now, my love!

She sensed rhythmic contractions begin under her hands and managed to look up at Vincent, wanting to see it happen to him. He threw his head back, eyes closed, and tightened his hold on her to thrust one last time. This time no growl or roar could be heard as he reached his climax, just her name, carried on a long, hissing sigh of ecstasy.

"CATHERINE!"

Wave after wave of overwhelming, dizzying rapture engulfed her, while his essence filled her mouth. She drank him in greedily, loving the bittersweet, musky taste of him. She went on caressing Vincent to enhance and prolong his pleasure, sharing every nuance of it until the waves subsided and she finally released her hold to look up at him tenderly.

"I love you." she said quietly.

Vincent stared down at her with still darkened eyes, trying to find his breath. He didn't know how he'd managed to stand through it all, for his legs were weak and trembling, and he collapsed on his knees in front of Catherine, pulling her in a fierce embrace.

"Oh, Catherine!" he moaned in her hair. His lips trailed down her temple and cheek to finally capture her mouth in a deep kiss, finding a new, yet not unfamiliar taste that he realized was his own. That made her even more totally his, and Vincent suddenly felt eager for her own taste in his mouth.

He gently urged her down on the bed until she lay on her back. "My turn, now!" he husked.

Catherine nodded with a smile, her happy anticipation flowing through the bond, and he took his time to admire her body, enjoying her beauty and the signs of her arousal. Her chest was heaving with short, panting breaths, her hardened nipples calling for his attention, and a crimson flush had risen to her breast and throat. Her hips were contracting rhythmically, unconsciously mimicking the movements of lovemaking, and from her slightly parted legs rose a tantalizing scent.

Vincent resisted the strong urge to bury his face between those silky thighs and lose himself in her fragrance. Later. First he intended to discover and cherish his beloved's body. Every single inch of it.

Catherine was getting impatient for Vincent's touch and was a little surprised when he grasped her shoulder to turn her over on her stomach. A jolt of sharp pleasure went through her at the fleeting thought that he might take her that way, but the bond told her that wasn't what he had in mind…at least for now.

She tried to arch her head back to look at Vincent, but he gently urged her down to the pillow, and she relaxed, letting him have his way. It was his turn, and she eagerly awaited his first touch.

It came at last, unexpected and feathery soft on her right ankle, a sensation that might have been ticklish had she not been so aroused. Light as it was, it sent delicious shivers up her spine, and when she felt the warm caress of Vincent's hands on her lower calf, followed by the soft contact of his lips, she realized it was his hair she had felt first. She let her delight flow freely through the bond, silently urging him to go on, feeling his love and tenderness in return.

Vincent took his time to explore, kissing and nuzzling his way up one shapely calf, then moved to give the same attention to the other one. He had always loved Catherine's legs, even when he knew that it was wrong of him to harbor such thoughts, and though he did his best not to look at them, the tantalizing glimpses he hadn't been able to avoid had been the cause of more than one fevered dream. Now he was at last able to pay his homage, and he did it most thoroughly, discovering with delight the tender, sensitive place at the back of her knees. He lingered on each one for a few seconds, enjoying Catherine's sharp sensations, before continuing his way up.

He savored the different textures of her skin, taut over sleek muscle on the outside of her thighs, so fine and velvety soft on the inner face. More sensitive, too, quivery and responsive to his slightest touch. He progressed steadily, shifting from one thigh to the other, Catherine's scent more and more compelling as he drew closer to its hidden source.

His lips found moisture on her skin and the salty, tangy flavor invaded him, making him moan with surprised delight. This was his Catherine's most intimate essence, the taste of her pleasure, of her desire. To him it tasted sweeter than the sweetest nectar and he avidly licked her skin, craving for more.

Catherine moaned and writhed under Vincent's mouth, spreading her legs to give him better access. He felt her burning arousal through the bond and it matched his own fierce need, but he resisted that siren call. Much as he wanted to drown himself in her fragrant depths, he was not finished with his exploration, yet. Reluctant, but determined, he left her thighs to progress further up, soothing her frustrated whimper with a tender caress on her firm, softly rounded bottom.

He found a lovely dimple in the curve of her lower back and covered it with adoring kisses, while his warm hands traced the harmonious outer curve of her hips to the wonderful, fragile slimness of her waist.

He went on, kissing his way up a delicate spine, reveling in the shivers that went through Catherine's body at every touch of his mouth and hands, conveying a warm, soothing wave through their connection. Patience, Beloved!

His wide palms covered her shoulder-blades, sending a warm current of well-being throughout her body, until she gradually relaxed under the comforting contact.

Only then did his hands move to trace down her arms, while his lips sought the nape of her neck, his hot breath and light kisses eliciting new shivers. He moved up to nuzzle around her ear, then back down her neck to the curve where her shoulder began.

Catherine could sense Vincent's growing arousal, as he lingered there for a long time, licking and kissing. A low, sensual growl came from him and she felt the fleeting contact of his teeth. This part of her body seemed to draw a primal response from him, and though her conscious mind couldn't understand why, something just as deep within her knew and answered in kind.

Vincent's mouth left her abruptly, his hands gripped her shoulders, and she found herself on her back again, staring in darkened eyes.

"Vincent!" she pleaded. She wanted him so much it almost hurt.

He kissed her in answer, long, hard and deep, before leaving her mouth to trail down her throat. Catherine felt his impatience and knew she wouldn't have much longer to wait.

Vincent did stop at her breasts and lingered there long enough to pay each of them due tribute but, delicious as they were, he couldn't take his mind off what lay just a few inches lower. That's where he wanted to be now, and he knew Catherine wanted it just as much.

Drawn to her fragrance like a butterfly, he kissed his way down her silky abdomen, lovingly teasing her navel with his tongue before finally reaching her soft brown curls. Her scent assailed him, numbing his conscious thought, and he fought to keep control.

Lifting his head from Catherine's body, he gently coaxed her thighs open. He wanted to see her. She complied, though he could feel her urgent need for his touch, and he silently thanked her for her understanding, before looking down at her.

He stared for a long time, unable to take his eyes off the sight of his Catherine's most secret flesh.

Catherine lay open under his gaze, hopelessly aroused. She felt a warm wave of love through the bond as a wide smile appeared on Vincent's face.

"Vincent?" she enquired, intrigued by his mood.

"I know now," he said in a low, caressing voice, "why I have always loved roses so much."

Too moved to speak, she answered with a trembling smile, and he slowly bent his head to lay a reverent kiss on her dewy, rosy petals. He had meant his touch to be soft and light, but her scent was so enticing he just stayed there, breathing deeply. His tongue flicked out to meet her compelling, addictive taste, and he was lost.

Burying his face in Catherine's soft curls, Vincent feasted on her tender flesh. His tongue thoroughly explored every hidden corner, delving in her tight opening to savor the flowing proof of her arousal, seeking her hidden nub to send sharp waves of pleasure through her body.

Catherine arched against him, swept away by the rapturous sensations, so close to completion it would take very little to send her over the edge and Vincent softened his touch, not wishing it to end yet. Her moans changed into a soft keening, a tuneless song of pleasure that was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard, and he wanted to hear more of it. His differences had never allowed the music lover he was to learn to play any. One more impossible dream fulfilled now, he fleetingly thought, as his mouth and hands played on Catherine's body, attuned to every fine nuance of her sensations, the music he drew from her more wonderful to his ears than any concerto.

He brought her close to the brink several times with the caress of his tongue on her sensitive bud, taking her higher and higher only to calm her down again with soft, tender kisses on her swollen, yearning flesh, both proud and awed at the power he had over her, until the bond told him she wouldn't take any more.

He sought her nub with his tongue again to start a steady stroking, changing the rhythm and strength of his caress as he felt the tide build and grow inside her. Two of his fingers found her opening and slid inside in deep matching strokes.

Catherine abandoned herself completely to her pleasure, feeling wave after wave of rapture sweep through her, knowing that this time there would be no stopping them. She was too close. She concentrated on the sensations Vincent's loving mouth and hands evoked in her body, and felt herself soaring ever higher, until she went over the edge with a hoarse cry. She clung to Vincent's hair, sobbing his name as she climaxed for a seemingly endless time. He was with her all the time, his loving presence and the touch of his raspy tongue urging her on, enhancing every nuance of her pleasure, never leaving her until finally the tide slowly receded and she relaxed back, limp and spent.

Chapter 10

The only thing that had kept Vincent from following her in that cataclysmic orgasm was a deep, primal urge to hold back his own release until he was inside her. He needed it now with a desperate urgency. Catherine's scent, her taste, her pleasure, had driven him to a frenzy and even though he knew he must give her some time to recover he felt unable to wait any longer. He had to take her! At loss he lifted his head from her. "Catherine!" he managed to growl, amazed to be still able of any articulate speech.

Catherine's eyes snapped open as the force of Vincent's need reached her in her blissful limbo. She gasped at the sight of him as he towered over her, kneeling between her open thighs, his whole body tense with barely leashed sexual energy. He was a living image of aroused masculinity, his disheveled hair falling on his broad shoulders, his fangs showing as his mouth opened for shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes shone with the dark fire of an irrepressible desire and her own body instantly responded to his plea with a matching hunger, as if it hadn't known release only moments before.

She reached out to pull him down, but he stilled her with an imperious growl. Staring down at her with dark, haunted eyes, he let his hands trace their way down from her shoulders, his claws enough in evidence to leave a trail of fire without breaking the skin, making her whimper. As he reached her hips he gripped her flesh firmly, and with a last searing look, turned her swiftly over on her stomach.

All coherent thought had deserted Catherine. When he lifted her hips she eagerly complied and rose on her hands and knees, keenly aware of Vincent's powerful presence, of the heat emanating from his body as he loomed over her. She was only desire and aching emptiness, craving for the feel of him inside her.

"Vincent!" she pleaded, hardly recognizing her own voice. A soothing, growling sound answered as his warm palms caressed down her back to cup her buttocks, coaxing her thighs slightly apart. One of his hands left her and she gasped when she felt the tip of his swollen manhood nudge her waiting flesh. He grasped her hips and she braced herself with a whimper of impatience.

He filled her in a single, mighty thrust, his satisfied growl echoing her shrill cry of pleasure.

Again and again, Vincent plunged deep into Catherine's body. He held nothing back, aware at the most basic level that not only could she stand it, but nothing less would satisfy her fierce hunger. Sobbing his name, she met every thrust with a matching strength, her tight sheath releasing him reluctantly when he withdrew only to grip him with renewed avidity as he filled her again. She ground herself back against his body to feel him deeper still, demanding all he had to give.

And he gave her what she wanted. He thrust deeper, faster, glorying in his ability to fulfill his woman's needs. He felt her begin to soar and eagerly joined, becoming one with her as an irresistible tide carried them to unimagined heights. All his power unleashed, he increased the rhythm of his strokes to bring them higher still.

Catherine's sobs turned into moaning cries, and her core began to convulse around him, causing an inevitable response from his own aching flesh. Together they teetered on the brink for a few seconds of eternity, before being hurled into the velvety, starlit depths of timeless, almost unbearable ecstasy.

With a scream she arched her head back, offering the tender curve of her neck to his loving bite. He held her thus a long time while his essence poured into her in explosive, rapturous waves. Only when the last of it had been claimed by her greedy flesh did he release his imperious hold to throw his head back and roar his completion, wild tremors of pleasure still coursing through their bodies.

The storm finally quieted down, leaving them both drained and shaking. They fell to lie on their sides, still deeply joined, Catherine safely spooned in the curve of Vincent's body. He cuddled her close, his hands cupping her breasts as he nuzzled in her hair. His mouth found the spot where his teeth had held her, and he tenderly kissed and licked the slight soreness away, breathing in deeply the sweet scent of her. A contented purr arose from his throat, echoed by Catherine's soft moan of delight.

Everything was right in Vincent's world, and he knew it was the same for Catherine. He felt in both of them the same bone-deep satisfaction of body and soul, a fulfillment that went well beyond mere sexual release, even beyond what they'd experienced before. Their wild, unrestrained lovemaking had satisfied some basic, primal need in both of them…and suddenly he understood what that need was! He knew why Catherine's scent had been so irresistible, why he had felt driven to find his release inside her body. His very first reaction was a sharp burst of proud joy, soon smothered under shame and anguish. What had he done? His purr stopped abruptly and he jerked away from her.

Catherine gasped as the warmth of him left her and his dismay reached her through the bond. She turned to face him and met his tortured eyes.

"Vincent!" she cried. "What's wrong? Please, tell me!"

He first lowered his gaze, and she could feel overwhelming shame with something else buried deep underneath, then a spark of determination as he looked at her again, and finally spoke.

"Catherine…I have given you a child.

Her eyes widened. "But how can you…yes, you can, of course! Oh, Vincent, it's wonderful"!

The wild surge of joy almost stunned him, as he understood how much, and for how long, Catherine had hoped for this. One more longing she'd kept hidden to spare him, and he felt humbled by her care of him. There wasn't the smallest doubt or fear in her, just blissful happiness, and his misgivings melted away. Yes, this was meant to be, too. He crushed her against his chest and allowed his own joy to surface, finally admitting to himself that this had always been a secret wish of his, too, one he'd never thought he had even the right to dream of.

Somehow he was absolutely certain the child had been conceived during their last encounter, and not before. Only the lowering of his last barriers, giving his wild side complete command, had made it possible for it to happen. This realization brought him to another, obvious one, that shocked him, even as it evoked a new surge of fierce satisfaction deep within.

"Vincent, what's wrong?"

"The child…will look like me."

"I'm glad." she simply said, the plain truth of her words filling the bond. She would love this child and find it beautiful, as she found him beautiful. The strength of her joy, of her unrestricted acceptance washed over him, fighting the deeply ingrained certainty that he should never take the risk of condemning a child to share his wretched fate.

Wretched? Has the Destiny you so often cursed really been so harsh to you? Stop whining and count your blessings! Vincent paused to consider this. Did he really have so much to complain about? All his life, despite his differences, he had known love, and the warmth of a caring family, which was more than many 'normal' children ever got in the world Above. He had a home, a place where he belonged, and many friends.

And, beyond all, he'd been blessed with Love. Love of a rare, exceptional kind, demanding and sometimes source of unbearable pain but of so much joy too. Unconditional, all-encompassing, miraculously reciprocal love, strong enough to finally overcome all obstacles. No, he certainly wouldn't want to change a thing to a life that had led him to his present happiness!

With love, all things had been made possible, even those he'd always believed unreachable, and love, he vowed, was something their child would never lack.

Catherine held him close, knowing he was confronting one of his last and deepest fears. The idea of holding in her arms a tiny replica of the man she loved filled her with a blissful delight she tried to communicate to him through the bond, along with her trust that everything would be all right. She soon felt his turmoil recede, leaving place to a serene acceptance, a joy matching her own. He laid a possessive hand on her stomach, and from the deepest reaches of him rose a current of ferocious contentment.

"I am glad, too." he said quietly.

She brought her mouth to his for a long, deep kiss, then laid her head on his shoulder and caressed his chest tenderly. "You'll be a wonderful father, Vincent!"

A father, he was going to be a father! The idea of being to a little one what Father had been to him filled him with awe. And Catherine would be a mother. So many things would have to change in their lives. This child would tie Catherine to his world, and he felt a mixture of joy and guilt at the thought. "Catherine, your life Above…"

She patted his chest reassuringly. " We'll find a way, my love! We'll have all the time to think about that later." She thought of the beautiful brownstone with its cellars going "down to the center of the earth" and smiled happily, already imagining the trampling of little feet on its wooden floors." We'll work it out. Trust me."

He felt her happy certainty, along with a hint of playful anticipation, about which he decided not to enquire. She was right, they had time.

He disengaged himself gently from her and rose. "I will be right back."

She watched him move naked around the cave to put out all the candles but a long-lasting one in a corner, the golden fur on his body turning to a darker shade as the flickering lights disappeared one by one. He walked back to the bed, silhouetted against the remaining light that made his hair shine like a halo. He looked both like a dark pagan god and an angel, she mused, and he was her man. Her own, wonderful, unique man!

She opened the bed covers to slip underneath, holding them up so he could join her. With a sigh of pleasure, she snuggled against him, running eager, possessive hands on his body.

"Mmmm, you feel wonderful! I love to touch you." She giggled with delight when her questing fingers encountered his reawakening arousal. "Vincent, again?"

With a deep throaty chuckle, he gently brought her hand back to his chest.

"Catherine, please have mercy! I want you always. I will want you always. But we do have to rest sometimes. Now sleep, you're exhausted."

"Spoilsport!" she teased, but lifted her face to his kiss. "Good night, Vincent!"

"Sleep well, Beloved." he answered, cuddling her close.

She was indeed totally drained. She couldn't remember when she'd last had a normal night of sleep, and the last hours, blissful as they had been, had nevertheless added to her exhaustion. She nestled gratefully into Vincent's arms, and soon her breathing slowed.

Vincent felt her drift away and instinctively tightened his hold on her. Never had he felt so complete, at peace with everything that he was. Watching over his sated, sleeping mate in the dark cavern, he acknowledged the feral, possessive pride rising in him. This beautiful woman was his, and she would bear him a child. He knew he would keep them both safe at all cost, and quietly rejoiced that he had the strength and ferocity to do so if needed.

The warm, trusting contact of her body against his filled him with a fierce tenderness that he knew came from both sides of the now destroyed barriers within him. Searching his soul, he could find no trace of them left. As if they'd never existed. For the tender platonic lover which was all he'd allowed himself to be for so long, and the wild beast he'd so feared to become had always been the same man. The man who loved Catherine. The man Catherine loved.

At the border of consciousness, just before joining his beloved in a blissful sleep, Vincent heard the ironical voice rise one last time from inside him, before fading away for ever.

Told you so!

The End