Part V: The End Game

This occurs when the strength on both sides has been greatly reduced.  At this point the weakest element can influence the game, though the Queen, if wise, will ultimately prevail.

Friday, April 25

     Would he come to her tonight?  She knew it had to be soon, she was convinced he couldn't fight this much longer.  Today had been like Thursday, only worse.  Distance had not changed a thing; fleeting episodes throughout the day, the full sequence last night, and they both endured them, they had no choice.
    Never mind, it didn't matter; she would wait as long as it took.  She'd never give up on them.  She changed into a silky gown of the palest shade of dusky rose - she'd bought it hoping to wear it for Vincent... someday.  She slipped the matching robe on over it and stepped out onto the balcony.
     It was a beautiful night, it reminded her of her walk through the park last Sunday on her way to Vincent - the night everything had changed.  He was still shielding from her and she wondered at his strength.  She had given up on it - it took too much out of her.  Of course Vincent had much more practice at this than she did.  How long might he be able to do it?  Her sorrow was pervasive.  How she wished she could hold him, comfort him, ease him through this transition.  She knew how distressed he was; Bond or not, she knew him well.  Oh Vincent, my love, I'm here, I'll always be here for you...
     "Catherine."
     Once again it caught her by surprise, the sound of his voice calling her name.  He always hid his desire from her, attempting to deny its existence to them both, but it inevitably came out in his voice when he spoke her name.  He was here, and she'd never suspected it.
     She froze for a moment, staring out over the skyline, anticipating the sensation of her first view of him.  She took a deep breath and turned.  The hood of his cloak was up, shadowing his face, but the blue of his eyes couldn't be hidden, and a thick strand of hair escaped, glowing like flame in the moonlight.  The raised hood and the tension evident in his stance, tucked back in a dark corner, broke her heart.  She moved toward him slowly, comforting waves preceding her.  She didn't stop until her arms were about him and she was holding him tight, her face pressed against his chest.
     He stayed very still for a moment, then she felt a shuddering through his frame and his arms came up to surround her, grasping at her as if to a lifeline.
     "Oh Catherine, I love you so, I always have."
     "I know my love, I know.  And I love you, I always will."  Her words were significant to him, to his fears.
     She leaned back the slightest amount, enough for him to see her commitment and her contentment with it.  Finally she spoke.
     "I know how difficult this is for you Vincent.  But I need you to listen to what I have to say now."  She paused then for a moment, drawing her thoughts together.  "I don't know why our Bond has changed, why it's happening now, but I do know that this is our destiny.  I've known it for a long time now.  I know that you question that destiny, for my sake, and I've tried not to impose my beliefs on you, to let you come to that understanding in your own time.  I know you think you can change all this by leaving me, that I'll go and live some other life, find some other love if you do.  But you must know by now how impossible that is.  You can try to hold yourself from me, but I'll never leave you, never.  You are my life."
     Those words...  They were the same ones he'd heard in the D3 bathing pool.  His heart ached at the sound and memory as it washed over him.
 "And there's more Vincent, more than just my desire for you."  She paused then, struggling with the decision to disclose this last.  Would it help or only hurt their cause?  "This schism, the break you've struggled with this last year.  I know you think it's an inherent part of your dual nature, but I don't think it is.  This Bond between us, it's so strong, getting stronger.  I don't understand why it's there or how it works.  But I know this Vincent, your attempt to deny your feelings for me, to deny the Bond, this is at the heart of your problem.  I know you're afraid, Vincent.  Afraid that 'Other' side will be in control if we give in to passion."  She drew a deep breath then and went on resolutely.  "I know you're afraid you'll hurt me."
     A gasp was drawn from him at these words, but she went on relentlessly, sure now this was the right course, the only course.  "Don't you see, Vincent?  It's just not possible.  That Other side loves me too, protects me.  And I love you, all of you, including the side you would deny."
     He drew back from her in horror now, shaking his head in denial.  She gripped his shoulders tightly, her weaker strength somehow resisting his attempted withdrawal.   "Yes, Vincent, it's true.  It's always been true.  You've just never been ready to see it, to accept it.  Please, Vincent, believe me now.  I love you, all of you.  And I want you, all aspects of you.  You won't hurt me, I've always been sure of that, and even you must suspect that this is what the Bond is telling us now.  Please believe me, Vincent, please!"
     She caught herself suddenly, and the next words she spoke were quiet but intense.  "I need us to be together and so do you.  It is our destiny.  I can't live without you, Vincent, I can't.  Please don't make me.  Please."
     She was begging him, begging...  His beautiful Catherine.  He stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity, hope warring with disbelief in his face.  Could she be right?  Everything of significance in his life seemed to revolve around her now, could this be an extension of that?  He couldn't deny that his desire for her had grown stronger over the last year, harder and harder for him to contain, it was such a struggle to control those feelings...
     His eyes were staring deeply into hers but she suddenly had the sensation that he was seeing something entirely different, something internal.  She was his life, everything, without her there was nothing.  Could it be true?  Could this really be the same for her?  Impossible!  But what if it were true...?
     The direction that thought took him was devastating.  He could consign himself to that cold void if it meant protecting her, but he couldn't condemn her to that same torture.  Never!  A gasp broke through his lips and his gaze refocused on her.  One either moves toward Love or away.  There is no other direction...  What more was there then?  The struggle was finally over, hope won out and his weight sagged against her, the release from tension immense.
     They stayed that way a while longer, resting together, then Catherine slowly drew away from him until only their shaking hands touched.  She moved backward, taking him with her, and they passed through the balcony doors into her bedroom, the light from the moon their only illumination.  She led him to the tall Queen Anne wing back chair and gently pushed him down into it.  As she sank to her knees in front of him his mind raced to the memory of last Sunday, the images seen then were more vividly apparent now and he fought to control his breathing.  Her hands rested atop his thighs for a moment - the muscles trembled beneath her - before sliding down his legs to remove his boots and socks.  Then she stood and slipped the robe from her shoulders.  She stayed very still, letting him look to his heart's content, happiness radiating through her at the pleasure she was finally able to give him.
     He had always been careful to keep his eyes on her face when they'd had their rendezvous on her balcony, but now he freed them to wander over her entire body, filling his eyes and his heart with her beauty.  The gown was the most delicate, translucent shade he'd ever seen, rivaled only by the pale blush along her cheeks; he could plainly see the outline of her nipples beneath it.  He was entranced, mesmerized by her; he wanted to look at her forever, he wanted her in his arms immediately, urgently.
     The thought had barely formed in his mind when it entered the stream of their Bond and she responded, moving towards him.  He began to rise to meet her but her hands pushed him down again then slipped the leather pouch containing her rose over his head and moved to lay it on her bureau.  She walked back towards him slowly, her breasts swaying, and he found himself holding his breath, obsessed with the sight of her.  She stood in front of him for a moment then drew her gown up to her knees and straddled his thighs to sit atop his lap, the fragile folds dropping to pool across his belly.  His breath had fallen into the panting pattern that always overtook him in his protective rages, and recognizing it, a look of panic spread quickly over his face.
     "No!  No, Vincent!  It's all right."  She held his face between her hands, keeping eye contact, projecting assurance with every fiber of her being.  "There's nothing wrong with the way you're responding now, nothing.  You're telling me how I excite you, and I love knowing that.  Feel how you excite me."  Her voice was low and sultry as she drew his hand to the center of her chest so that he could feel the rapid beating of her heart.  "Don't be afraid, Vincent, please.  Everything will be all right, I promise you."
     Her heart fluttered beneath his hand and her words and emotions calmed him.  Then she slid his hand over to cover her left breast, pushing it against her firmly, her nipple tightening against his palm, exciting him beyond measure.  He couldn't control his breathing, he absolutely couldn't, and let it come in pants.  His erection grew rampant, pushing against the seam of his jeans and he was grateful for the cloak still pulled loosely about him.
     She leaned forward then, still holding his hand against her breast, and kissed him.  She lightly laid her lips against his, moving them softly and slowly upon him.  He stayed perfectly still, his eyes closed, experiencing this new sensation, the wonder of her silky softness there against his alien difference.  How did this feel to Catherine?  How could there be pleasure in it for her?  But it was a useless thought, for he could plainly feel her pleasure through the bond.  Then he felt the tip of her tongue across his lower lip, caressing him with her moistness.
     Oh Catherine... yes...  He'd never imagined such an exquisite pleasure.  The sensations in the dream had felt so real, but now he realized their memory was a pale imitation compared to the vividness of this act, less intimate though it was.  How could he stand the rest?!  That sudden thought almost had him frantic, then the motion of her tongue on him changed and his attention was caught completely.  She slid it across his upper lip and into the cleft there.  He reeled at the intensity of the feeling, gasping for breath and groaning deep in his throat.  She was spreading the fold open and moving deeper to the most sensitive apex of that fleshy spot, nipping at him with her lips to taste the lushness of him there.  Oh God!  A growl rose from his chest and he couldn't stop it.  He thought he might faint.  Never would he have imagined that this could be such an erogenous zone for him.
     Catherine leaned away from him then to watch his face.  Vincent was the picture of wanton sensuality; his head thrown back, eyes closed, the lines of his face taut with passion.  His mouth was open and his canines glittered dangerously, compellingly.  She felt the dream image then, of those teeth against her throat and a shudder swept through her at the overwhelmingly erotic sensation that memory inspired.  A strangely sensual panting and growling noise came from his throat; it seemed to call to a wildness in her and she felt her own breathing pattern begin to alter and match it.
     He opened his eyes to look at her and they were hazy and deep, drawing her into their depths, demanding her surrender.  The fear she had expected to see was not evident, he had given himself over to her and the moment.  He pulled her back to him and their lips met in a kiss that burned through them with excruciating heat.  He was ahead of her now, building on what she had given him in that first erotic encounter of her mouth against his.  He tasted the outline of her lips, so full and sensuous, then traced the sensitive flesh inside with his tongue.  She met him then with her own, and they twisted together in a mad, passionate dance of desire.  They pulled apart finally, gasping for breath.
     "Oh, Catherine, Catherine!"  His eyes were wild in the moonlight, his chest heaving, his arms shaking about her, hands gripping her shoulders.  "How did I ever live without this?  I cannot... Catherine, I cannot live without this anymore if we continue.  Tell me now, stop me now if you have any doubts; a few minutes more and I don't think I'll be able to stop.  Tell me Catherine, quickly, what you want me to do."  His eyes suddenly held the flicker of fear and uncertainty that she had expected earlier and been so surprised to find missing.
 She stared at him, silenced for a moment by the very magnificence of him.  He was an otherworldly presence, virility incarnate, beyond beautiful.  If he stopped now she would die, she was sure of it; her very heart and breath were tied to him, seemingly controlled by his own internal rhythms.
     "I want you to touch me, Vincent, to love me.  It's what we both want, what we need!  Oh, Vincent, can't you feel it in me?  This is what was meant to be; believe me my love, trust me."
     Their eyes stayed locked as Catherine's hands rose to his chest and untied the laces on his vest, slipping it over his shoulders, taking the cloak along with it.  She ran her hands down his chest then, stopping for a moment to feel the thudding of his heart, feeling her own heart fall into that same cadence.  Her hands moved further down and tugged at his sweater and thermal shirt, pulling them loose from the waist of his jeans and his growls intensified at that friction against his skin.  She slid them up his chest and over his head, his arms raised to assist her.  When his arms were finally free, he wrapped them loosely about her, at her hips, leaving his torso open to her touch, inviting it, craving it.  The look on his face was open and vulnerable, trusting her to accept him and all he was.
     Catherine let her hands come to rest on his shoulders, feeling the warm smoothness of him.  The hair here was short and fine and so regular in its pattern it looked almost as if it were an integral part of his skin.  She stroked outward and down to his powerful biceps, feeling the muscles tighten and expand as her fingers gripped him there.  She was mesmerized by his chest; the broad width of it rising and falling deeply with each breath.  She brought her hands back up to his shoulders then down from there to rest over that massive expanse.  This hair was longer, the whorls more random, but growing thicker towards the center in a patterned line down his belly.  Her eager fingers moved through the dense silkiness and found his tender nipples.  She drew gentle circles around him moving ever closer to the sensitive peaks.
     "Oh, Catherine, please don't stop, don't ever stop," he moaned, as if in anguish.  He couldn't believe she was actually touching him in this tender, intimate way.  The fear that had always controlled him was still there, but it was far overwhelmed by the eroticism of the moment.  For despite his fears Vincent was an innately sensual being and he could not help but respond to Catherine now; he was incapable of turning from her, the Bond drew him inexorably on in its unstoppable urge to complete itself.
     "Never Vincent, never!  I never want to stop touching you.  I've waited so long; to hear you and see you like this, to touch you, to taste you..."
 She leaned forward then and flicked her tongue against one tip.  Beneath her hands his muscles bucked convulsively and he groaned loudly.  She sucked tenderly at one peak and then the other, loving the contrast of that smooth skin and the surrounding fur.  His hands gripped her hips suddenly, kneading the soft skin there, pulling her closer until she could feel his erection against her belly.  She held herself to him tightly, absorbing the feel of him along her torso, the muscled strength of his thighs and hips between her kneeling legs.
     "Oh, Vincent!  The feel of you against me...  It's more than I ever imagined; so warm, so silky, so strong.  How could you have been afraid to show yourself to me?  You are everything that is beautiful, everything!  Oh my love, my love...  I need my skin against yours."
     She pulled away from him suddenly, rose up on her knees and stripped her gown off over her head.  The speed and unexpectedness of that motion caught Vincent by surprise and he sat breathless, absorbing the sight of her naked body, only inches away from his own.  The growling that came from his throat seemed to be originating deep in his chest now; it was lower and louder and, like the 'dream', almost continuous.  Her female scent came to him in strong, pulsing waves and he inhaled deeply, seeking to know the very essence of her through this intimate, erotic sensation.
     A strong, musky odor called her to him and she felt her body yearning towards his as they sank deeper into the sensual spell gripping them both.  They stayed still for a few minutes, watching each other, feeling the Bond tighten between them until the tension was an agony that had to be lessened.  She wrapped her arms around him again and pulled herself tightly to him.
     The feel of their naked torsos pressed together was unbelievably arousing.  It was as if the dream sensations of the last few days were combining with the experiences of tonight to form ever larger and expanding waves of desire.  They moved through them both meeting somewhere in the bond where they were multiplied before reemerging to encompass them again in a flood of orgiastic ecstasy.
     Suddenly Vincent couldn't stand the restraining jeans a moment longer.  He needed to feel her against him entirely.  He needed to indulge his senses completely; see her, touch her, taste her, absorb the scent of her through his very pores.  He clasped her tightly to him and pushed himself out of the chair.  Catherine moaned low in her chest and wrapped her legs more securely about his waist as he swayed slightly, standing in place.  For a brief second fear flashed through her that he would put her away from him and leave her.
     "No!"  Vincent felt her fear and spoke urgently to assure her.  "Never again Catherine, I swear.  I need you my love, as you need me, and I will not leave you".  The husky tone of his voice sent a frisson of excited expectation through her which immediately communicated itself to him.  He quickly sought her mouth again with his own to seal his pledge.
     He strode the few steps to the side of her bed and quickly stripped the quilt back.  He paused then, for the briefest second, not wanting to move her from his body, not yet.  He stepped around to the foot of the bed and then knelt upon it, moving them to the center and resting on his haunches with Catherine still straddling him.  Oh, God!  The feel of her against him like this was heaven!  But he was also acutely uncomfortable; his flesh swollen and aching to be set free.  He laid her back on the bed, leaning over her, still held tightly by her arms and legs.  Then he gently pulled her arms from around his neck and sat back.
     She lay before him, a voluptuous image burning in his eyes.  Her arms were flung back over her head, her legs still tightly hugging the curve of his thighs and hips; her pose decadently wanton, completely open to him, inviting his touch.  The swell of her breasts and darkening blush of her turgid nipples drew his hands and he watched as if from a distance as his fingers moved over those soft curves and rigid peaks; tantalizing and torturing in the ecstasy they inspired but did not relieve.  A flush spread rapidly over her chest and up her neck and the curious mewling sounds he had heard in the dream were drawn from her again; not quite moans, not quite sighs, but something altogether different.  The sounds called to him and his low growls answered in return.
     Vincent froze suddenly, a silent, inward-looking expression on his face.  His hands released her breasts and slid down over her abdomen and belly to her thighs, stroking from there to the knees locked at his waist.  He hooked his fingers into the tender flesh behind each, pushed gently outward and her legs fell away from his body to rest on either side of him.
     He backed off the bed then and stood at its foot, utterly absorbed in her luxuriant beauty.  The flush now seemed to cover her entire body and she was glowing a delicious pink tint; he could swear he felt waves of heat radiating off her.  She had left her legs as they had fallen open and lay spread before him.  His eyes were drawn irresistibly to the curls at the juncture of her thighs and the lush, glistening flesh that peeked through there; her womanly scent was calling him to that very spot.
     But Vincent's inflamed body was begging for his immediate attention now.  He fumbled at his waist undoing the tight buttons and stripping the jeans down his powerful legs to stand before Catherine, naked and vulnerable.  He stood quietly, letting her see all of him; giving her another chance to change her mind if she so chose, though he didn't know what he would do if she did.  At that moment, separate from her, he felt the old fears rise up in him again, attempting to gain ascension once more.  She was so small and fragile.  He was so much bigger and stronger; he could crush her in his passion, injure her unintentionally even if there was no dark side, no dark urges waiting to consume them unchecked.  The doubts welled up in him, filling him.
     "Vincent."  She called to him, drawing him from his destructive reverie.  He focused on her once again, and she was drawing him; urging him to her with her voice, her eyes, her beckoning body and the full force of their Bond.  "Vincent, come to me my love.  I need you so.  Please, Vincent, please..."
     He moved forward again to the edge of the bed as if in a trance and one hand reached down to stroke her ankle.  Her bones were so delicate, her skin so soft, almost translucent in its ivory paleness.  He leaned over then to kiss her where his hand had been.  The taste of her was so sweet; both salty and tangy on his tongue.  He dropped to the bed and slid his mouth up the line of her calf, his tongue against her, tasting her.  A shudder and groan seemed to vibrate through her entire body when he pushed her leg upward and out and began to explore the sensitive flesh at the back of her knee, sucking and licking her there.  Just when she thought she couldn't take a minute more of it, Vincent turned and traced that same path on her other leg.  He lay near the foot of the bed between her legs now, his hands clutching her knees, his mouth moving tortuously over her supple skin.
     "Catherine...  Catherine..."
     The words were barely audible, they rumbled in his chest to mix with the husky growls growing there and moved to settle into a vibration at the very core of her womanhood.  He was lost in her; in the sight and taste and feel of her.  Her scent drifted down over him, pulling him into the deepening vortex he had sensed in the dreams, calling him to its source.  He pushed her knees further apart and kissed upwards until he reached the tender flesh of her inner thighs.  So delicate, so soft, so delicious...  His kisses moved back and forth between each thigh, covering each delectable inch of her.  The skin was stretched taut here and each flick of his tongue and nip of his teeth set up a tremor along it that he could both see and feel.
     "Yes, Vincent, yes!" she cried.  "Don't stop, please don't stop."  She whimpered deep in her throat, the pleasure excruciating in its intensity; Oh yes, the feel of his teeth against her....
     Her words were slurring too, but it didn't matter; the thought reverberated through them, clearly heard by both.  She was writhing on the bed, the sounds and scent of her arousal affecting him powerfully.  He pressed his body against the mattress, desperate to control the pulsing urges of his desire.  He had never felt so engorged, so filled with passion.  The Bond was a silken cord between them, drawing ever tighter, pulling them inexorably together.
     Vincent groaned deeply, undone by the passion surrounding them, urging them on.  His hands gripped the tender skin of her thighs as he moved further up the bed to rest his head against the delicate curve of her belly.  He pressed his cheek against her strongly as he drew in her scent.  He moved to press his lips against her glossy curls, craving her with a desire that could not be denied.  Take her... take her now... the voice in his head called out to him, urging him to give in to that desire.
     No!  Not yet, not yet...  It took an iron will to restrain himself, but he was determined to experience all of her this first time, to savor every moment.  He nuzzled against her belly then as his hands left her thighs to cover her breasts again.  His kisses inflamed her but his hands and mouth and body held her firmly beneath him.
     "No!" She cried out to him, "Don't stop now, please Vincent.  I need you!"
     He pulled himself up over her luscious body and she squirmed and moaned as his silky fur slid against her smooth, sensitized skin.  He framed her face with his hands and looked deeply into her eyes, his own dark and heavy-lidded with passion.
     When had this occurred?  When had he changed from the shy, modest, fearful being into this sensual creature, so completely in control, so sure of himself and her?  She shuddered in anticipation, realizing suddenly that he would satisfy them both completely this night.
     "Shhh, Catherine.  Be patient my love.  I know I have made you wait, made both of us suffer, but that is at an end now.  I need to know you completely, give myself to you completely.  Will you surrender yourself to me Catherine?  Will you?"
     She stared at him, stunned at his words; as much as his ability to form them as their content.  Would she?!  Had she ever wanted anything else?  He looked through her to her very soul and heard the thoughts through the Bond as if she'd spoken them, she could see that, feel that clearly.  But still he waited, needing her to say the words.
     "Yes, oh, yes."  The words came out a choked whimper, she was amazed she could speak at all.  "It's what I want more than anything.  I am yours, Vincent.  All of me, all I am, I give to you.  I'm empty, so empty without you, I need you to fill me, be with me, always.  Touch me, oh please touch me!"
     She lay beneath him, still now, absorbing the feel of him, his muscled weight holding her down felt liberating.  The muted copper of his hair fell in a wild curtain around her face, enclosing them in this frozen moment.  His burning erection pushed rhythmically against her inner thigh, hard and pulsing.  A shudder swept through her suddenly as she was overwhelmed with these sensations.  "Oh God, Vincent!"
     He took her mouth again, their kiss more deeply passionate than what had come before, indicative of what was yet to be.  His tongue thrust deeply into her, tasting all the textural variations there and she submitted to him completely, to his need to gain the most intimate access to her in every way.
     Then he was drawing her to him, catching her tongue with his own and urging her to make that same sensual journey through his mouth.  She was drowning in ecstasy, exploring him frantically; running her tongue along the smooth, cool, sharp tips of his teeth, tasting the moist, sleek flesh just inside his cheeks, the rougher, ridged surface at the roof of his mouth and the hot raspiness of his tongue, so capable of driving her to the edge of madness and beyond.
     He pulled away suddenly, gasping for breath, his eyes dazed and unfocused.  Then he was holding her tightly, his face buried in the curve of her neck, muttering against her, the words more felt than heard.
     "I need you so, I need you, need to touch you, taste you, be inside you."  Between each word he was moving his mouth over her skin; kissing, licking, nipping gently at her.  He moved across her collar bone and down her chest, his hands alternately caressing and squeezing her breasts roughly in his urgency.  The pleasure was unbearable to her.
     Catherine's crystal had slipped to one side, the chain looped about the crest of her right breast just under the nipple.  He seemed to be caught suddenly by that image, staring at her intently; his strong, fur-covered hand cupping the underside of that silken globe, long fingers tipped by deadly nails kneading the soft flesh, the straining peak and blushing aureole surrounded by the glinting gold chain and glittering stone.  The sight was irresistible and he moved quickly then to draw that yearning tip into his hot mouth, suckling strongly.
     "Vincent!"  She cried out, holding his head tightly to her.  She could feel the pull of his mouth down to her very womb, the contractions wracking her.  It felt as if her breast would give up milk at any moment and he sucked harder upon her as if questing for that elusive elixir, the firm press of his teeth against her flesh demanding she give up all to him.   His hand on her left breast held her firmly, but she needed his mouth there now, to quench the ache in that yearning peak.  Her hands guided him and he quickly sought her, loathe to end that glorious connection.  His hand covered her deserted right breast protectively, fingers alternately soothing and teasing the already excited nipple.
     He rested his full weight against her body and she gloried in the sensation of his hard silkiness.  She pulled her knees up high to wrap them around his waist and rubbed her hot, slick flesh against the silky fur on his abdomen, crying out as the ache there grew and she sought to assuage it.
     Vincent pulled away from her breast as a snarl was drawn from him.  He quickly moved his body up along hers until his rigid length lay against her wet warmth, then wrapped his arms about her, holding her tightly as he rubbed their succulent flesh together.
     He had wanted to wait, to draw it out, to touch and taste every part of her body before burying himself in her for that ultimate release, but it was not meant to be this time.  The explosive climax ripped through them in a tidal wave of red heat.  Catherine cried out and Vincent stifled a roar in her pillow as he thrust against her over and over again, the friction of their bodies holding his pulsating flesh tightly between them as his seed spurted out onto her belly.  He collapsed upon her as if unable to move and she held him tight, her limbs wrapped around him in an all encompassing embrace as they sank into oblivion.