Chapter 12

As the convulsions of their passion lessened and smoothed, his head came to rest on the hollow of her belly between her hip and the curls of her pubic mound. He lay there for a moment, recovering, and the first thing that came to his consciousness was that scent, that seductive scent of her. How he loved it! How he had longed to be here, breathing her scent, touching her in this intimate way. His love for her surged in him, and he raised his body up to take her in his arms.

For a moment they simply clung together, Vincent whispering to her of his love and his joy in her, and she pressing his hair back from his face so she could kiss it more thoroughly.

When she was able to think, instead of just feeling the overwhelming love and satisfaction of lovemaking with him, she said, "Oh, Vincent, that was…I don’t know what adjective could tell you how wonderful it was."

He smiled at her a little shyly. "For me also. I…did you know that I, too…" He was unable to say it.

"Oh yes! I knew; how could I miss it? I felt it when your body…exploded, and the look on your face was…indescribable."

"Was it…are you all right?" His arms cradled her tenderly.

She turned to face him, sliding a leg between his thighs, and put her arms around his neck. "It was, and I am! Wow! All I can say is ‘wow’!" She smiled brilliantly at him. "You’re the most wonderful, the most accomplished lover! Are you sure, Vincent, that you haven’t done this before?" He shook his head, embarrassed. "If I didn’t know you for the truthful person that you are, I’d have a hard time believing that!"

This was too much; he bridled. "Although my experience is…well, nil, I’m not without theoretical knowledge. You may have noticed that I read."

She grinned. "Yes, I have noticed that. But does Father’s library include works that…would tend to increase your theoretical knowledge of this particular subject?"

He chuckled, a deep note that she could feel in his chest. "No, but I grew up with Devin. Believe me, his library made up for any lack in Father’s."

"I’ll bet it did!" Her grin exploded in a giggle as she pulled herself closer to his body. "Did…your sources…tell you that women are capable of repeating this act almost at once, usually more quickly than men?"

He stared at her for a moment, and she could see intensity replacing humor in his gaze. Then he rolled until he was on top of her, leaning on his elbows above her.

"Oh, Catherine, I want…I want to feel you enclosing me…I want to be inside you." His voice was throaty as he half-whispered the words. "Oh my love…I need to be…one with you. Take me inside you, make me complete…"

She brought her hands up to cradle his face, and looked into his eyes with love glowing in her gaze as she whispered in return, all thought of laughter lost in a moment. "Oh, yes! Make love to me, Vincent…oh, love me, take me…I am yours…"

Her legs came up around him, and he realized that his penis was nuzzling at the entrance to that place which had been for so long his ultimate desire. He looked down at her then with wonder in his face, and with apprehension. "…I’m afraid…afraid I’ll hurt you. You’re so little…so fragile."

She smiled. "You won’t hurt me, my body was made for this…I was made for this, to take you inside of me. Oh, please, love, take me…" Her hands still held his face, and she drew his mouth down to hers.

Passion flared again wildly. Her plea made him burn to plunge into her, but he held back, still apprehensive. When he raised his head long tremors were rolling over his body as his desire battled with his fear for her. Tears welled up as he whispered: "I want this so much…so much…but I must not hurt you, Catherine. How can I be sure…?"

"Only by trying. love." She smiled tremulously. "Trust me, it will be all right."

They exchanged a long look, as he searched her face, looking for some further assurance; but she had said it, there was no way to tell in advance. So, without further words, trusting her, Vincent began to ease into her, his penis surging powerfully. As he moved slowly into the warmth of her body, Catherine’s eyes closed, her mouth opened for the passage of her panting breath, and she moaned softly with each of those breaths. "…Oh yes, yes…yes…"

He stopped, again paralyzed with apprehension. Words fell from his lips with his own quick breath. "I want you so much…please, are you all right…oh please…please…"

Catherine could wait no longer. "Oh God, Vincent, yes!…now…now…all the way!"

With one plunge, he complied, and it was indeed all right. Both of them gasped as he was finally seated far into her warmth and softness.

Vincent was overwhelmed with the sensation of being inside his love at last. He lay perfectly still, eyes closed, absorbing the moment, the subject of so many guilty dreams now brought to ecstatic reality.

It was Catherine who moved at last; she was unable to wait any longer to feel the lovely friction. She lifted her hips a little bit, and Vincent gasped and began to move, just slightly, in and out of her body.

Then his eyes opened in astonishment and he spoke, his voice slurred and hoarse, "Oh Catherine, your body….your body caresses me…inside..." And it was true, with every slight movement he made, her body’s interior muscles clenched to hold him close. It was more than he had ever dreamed; tears rose to his eyes. "You love me with all of you…" His head dropped to nestle into her neck and she felt his tears on her skin.

"Because all of me loves you so much, Vincent…all of me…" She scattered kisses on the parts of his face and neck she could reach. Then he began to move in her again, and there was no more talk; both were immediately beyond speech.

Catherine began to moan softly with each breath, and Vincent found that small sound added to his excitement, and his increased heartbeat and gasping breath made Catherine’s excitement swell in turn. His strokes grew longer and deeper, and he began a soft growl.

In a moment he was pumping in and out of that rich warmth to the full extent of his penis, all the way out until he felt only the touch of her on the very tip, then plunging in until his testicles rested gratefully against her. Catherine moved with him, her head tipped back, her eyes closed, and the little gasping moan never stopping. As he looked down at her, he knew beyond any doubt that her ecstasy equaled his. "My love…my love…" His breathless words were so low as to be almost unintelligible, forced from him unaware by the bottomless depth of his adoration.

The level of sensation became so intense that Vincent was drawn out of himself. If ever he had worried about losing control, this was the time, but his gentleness and care for Catherine didn’t desert him. While he plunged into her with abandon, still his nails were turned away from her, and although his open mouth moved hungrily over her face and neck, taking in the scent and taste of her, his teeth slid over her skin without leaving any mark.

He began to move more quickly, his body caressing hers as he moved, so that she felt the heavy thatch of hair on his chest sliding over her breasts, making the sensations that were so intense at the place where they joined, spread over her entire body. Everywhere he touched her electricity seemed to spring between them as she felt her oncoming climax. "A-a-h…Vincent…it’s coming…A-h-h…"

When he heard her involuntary exclamation of excitement, his testicles pulled themselves up close to his body as sweat sprang out all over him. "Oh God…Catherine…"

The exquisite tension burst at last into a mutual orgasm. Catherine’s soft wailing cry blended with Vincent’s growl as their bodies convulsed in a profound ecstasy, which went on and on before it began to subside into a long descending spiral of sensation, leaving them both limp and semi-conscious.

As he returned to himself, Vincent rolled himself over, bringing Catherine with him, until she lay on top of him. She woke then from her daze, and looked down at him with all of her love in her eyes. "Oh, Vincent…Oh, my love…"

He lay looking up at her, with tears running from the corners of his eyes. "I adore you. I am your slave…I am your willing slave…"

She smiled, blinking back her own tears. "And I am yours…."

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Epilogue

Catherine watched Vincent with a deeply felt delight as he stretched, relaxing profoundly in the big chair, and put his feet up on the footstool.

It was the right choice, it really has worked! she thought. It had been several months of effort, refitting the tired old brownstone into a home where they could be together, but the time and money had been well spent.

Her effort was rewarded now by the contented wellbeing that Vincent showed in every tranquil line of his body. In the firelight his mane glowed, surrounding his features with a nimbus of soft golden light. His shirt was open to the waist and his feet were bare, reminders of their lovemaking just past. As she watched, those furry toes wiggled and he sighed deeply.

"This place is wonderful. Better than I ever thought it could be. I feel very comfortable here."

"I love to hear you say that." She smiled at him from the other chair. "I wanted you to feel at home so much."

Vincent leaned over, reached for her hand and tugged, an invitation to come and sit on his lap, which she accepted with pleasure. When she was comfortably settled against him both sat for a moment staring into the fire.

He spoke softly then. "I am at home. Catherine, I feel…" He turned his head to look at her. "I feel…married."

Catherine smiled at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Oh, my dear, you couldn’t have said anything that I’d rather have heard." She kissed him softly. "And so do I. That’s what our house is…a place for married people to live! I’ve been looking forward to it, and wanting it so much, every since we…since our lovely afternoon in the storeroom."

His arms tightened around her. "I remember. I remember everything of that afternoon. It was the most…magical time I could ever have imagined."

"It was. And it’s just gotten better since then."

He chuckled. "Well, I’ve had more practice. Quite a lot more."

"You didn’t need any practice! You were wonderful. I was astonished, and a little bit nervous that you hadn’t told me everything. I couldn’t believe that a man who had never…had any practice…could be so…so expert!"

"That may have been a result of three years of thinking about it and dreaming about it." He paused and looked her slyly, from the corner of his eye.  "Not to speak of a partner whose willingness was only exceeded by her enthusiasm."

She flicked his cheek with a nail softly as she chuckled. "Well, I’d had three years to think about it too." She sighed deeply, and put her head down on his shoulder. "It’s so nice here. I’m so glad that you’re pleased with it. …You know, I don’t think you were ever at home in my apartment. I don’t know why exactly, do you?"

He thought for a moment, staring into the blaze in front of them.. "No. I don’t know why, but you’re right, I wasn’t comfortable there. It seemed…I don’t know…so…so aboveground. Does that sound foolish?"

She grinned. "Yes." Then she laughed aloud as he looked at her, surprised. "Well, you asked! The eighteenth floor is about as aboveground as you could get! ...But I do know what you mean. It wasn't very...tunnelish...was it?"

She looked around the big room, lit softly by the firelight and a few candles. "When I decorated this place, I had you in mind. And myself too, don’t think I did it all for you! It’s just…I’ve changed, my taste has changed since the tunnel people became my family, and the tunnels became my second home. So it followed that this room, the whole house would be…different. Let me see, in what ways is this house different from my apartment?"

Vincent thought for a moment. "Darker colors, softer light, oriental rugs, bigger furniture. That’s just the start of the catalogue, but they make a large difference." He snuggled down into the chair further, tightening his arms around her. "I feel…at home. Oh, and candlelight. That’s a large part of the difference. I’ve wondered about that. How did you manage to light this place with electricity, but make it feel like candlelight?"

She looked smug. "Just a little decorating magic…" Then she grinned. "Well, and a lot of candles, too."

He kissed her lightly and said, "Thank you, Catherine. Thank you for making this place for us to be together." Then he turned his head to the fire, so she wouldn’t see the smile on his face. "I don’t know how many more years I could have gotten to your balcony without killing myself in the attempt. I’m not getting any younger, you know. When I first came to see you, it seemed romantic, like Rapunzel in her tower, but I soon got over that. Especially in the winter." He sighed, his arms tightening around her. "This is much better. I’m in no danger of breaking a hip."

She struggled for a serious expression as she turned in his arms to look at him. "Yes, for an old man, this is much more appropriate. Aged bones become brittle."

"Aged? I’ll show you who’s aged!" This kiss was much more thorough, and his hands came into play to back up what his mouth and tongue were telling her. 

Her arms came up around his neck, threading through the golden mane, and she began to breathe faster as his hand took the opportunity of her lifted arm to slide softly around her breast. "M-m," she said, when he raised his head at last, "I believe you’re not quite over the hill yet!"

Vincent rose from his chair with her in his arms, and deposited her on the hearthrug. "Catherine, you were so clever to put a soft rug in front of the fire! It’ll be so much easier on your aged bones. You do remember that we’re nearly the same age?" He slid down beside her, and his voice dropped into that husky half-whisper that always made her blood run faster as he said, "Now! Now we’ll see. Now we’re going to find out whose bones will give out first!"

The End