Dreams of Thee

Chapter 10


Vincent watched the sky darken as the first grey fingers of night appeared in the evening sky.  Catherine slept in his arms. She would waken soon; he could feel her stirring, fighting to retain her beautiful dream.  His mind was amazed that Catherine dreamed so strongly, so clearly, of him and their life together.  He felt all too clearly the emotions which filled her dreams.

Her hands moved against his chest, her warm body stretching, and he knew she was awake.  “Did you sleep well, Catherine?”

“Yes. I was having such a beautiful dream, and I didn’t want to wake up.  I was loving you; there was no Mouse to interrupt us, no one demanding pieces of us, just us alone.”

“It was a beautiful dream; I felt it while you slept.”

“Has Peter gone?”

“Several hours ago; he had work to do.”

“I’veslept away our day together, haven’t I?”

“Only a small portion of our time; time spent in dreaming, I have discovered, is time well spent.”  He brought his hand to her face, tilted it upward, and slowly kissed her.  The passion, the love he felt as his lips touched hers was a shock to him. The kiss deepened until all his senses were filled with the need only Catherine could fulfill.

“What is it, Catherine?”  Vincent drew his lips away from her neck, raised his head and looked at her.

“Nothing. I just need to go to the bathroom before . . . .”

He lay there on the bed for a few moments, then rose and moved to the balcony door.  The sky was brilliant, the first stars just beginning to appear in the heavens.  He stood watching, in awe of the nightly wonders so few men even bothered to notice.  He was lost in the beauty of the sky when he realized Catherine had been gone for a very long time.

He moved toward the bathroom door, placed his ear against it, but could hear nothing. “Catherine, I don’t wish to invade your privacy, but are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I just decided to take a bath.”

Uttering an almost inaudible “Oh,” he turned and started back towards the balcony.

“Vincent,” she called softly, “are you still there?”

He quickly retraced his steps. “Yes, Catherine, I’m here.”

“Vincent, would you wash my back for me?”

He stood there unable to move, unable to speak.  His heart started pounding so loudly he felt it would surely leap from his chest.  He tried to speak but found he had no voice.  He tried again, but the voice he heard sounded nothing like his own. “Pardon me, Catherine, what did you say?”

“I said, would you wash my back for me?”

He continued to stand there; his legs refused to obey his commands. He felt the bottom of his stomach fall away, neither knowing nor understanding the complexities of the emotions washing over him.

“Vincent. Vincent?”

He could feel the panic beginning to rise in her through the closed door.  His hand slowly reached out to grasp the door handle and pushed the door open; on trembling legs he walked inside.

The tub was filled almost to the top and the room was filled with the scent which to him was always Catherine: a mixture of freshness, flowers and a hint of musk.  The scent was stronger as he tried to force his long muscular legs to the tub.  His keen eyes could discern a slight trace of oil floating on the surface of the water.  He could only stare at her as she lay back in the water.

He thought she looked like a goddess as the water gently lapped against her breasts.  He looked down at her, realizing anew how beautiful she was, how perfect was her body.

She is trying to make this easier for me, he thought. I have bathed her before, but never when she was so completely awake.  She could feel the uneasiness within him, mixed with a desire he could not submerge.  How complete is her trust.  But the Darker Vincent rose within him, telling him he was certainly not worthy of her trust, her love; that a creature—a hairy, clawed beast -could not possibly be beautiful.  Dark Vincent roared within his mind, calling forth every vile deed he had ever done.  The voice of Dark Vincent grew louder.

“Come to me, Vincent.  Believe only in my love for you. You are beautiful, and I desire you.  Come; walk into the sunlight with me. I love you—all that is you.”

Catherine’s voice rose, blocking the howls of Dark Vincent as he tried to gain control.  Vincent lifted his head, staring at Catherine; her eyes seemed to burn through him, searing his mind, soul, and heart as she fought to prevent him from fleeing into the gathering darkness.  Her struggle with his hidden fears, his self-imposed denial, his worthiness, and his right to love and to be loved advanced, out-flanking her enemy, as she marshaled her consuming love for Vincent.

Within their Bond her body rose from the water, stepping from the tub, allowing Vincent to view her body.  Softly, she walked toward him, placing her hips firmly against his and slipping her hands around the muscular contours of his buttocks; she pulled him closer, searing him with the fire of her love, her need to be joined to him.

His whole body was aflame with the burning heat of her love. He shook his head, trying to clear away the heat which took his very breath away.  The bond slowly retreated and when he looked, Catherine was still reclining in the water, an impish grin on her face.

Never had Vincent felt the power of their bond as strongly.  Catherine had traveled the distance to his very soul within the blink of an eye.  His faltering steps had only taken him two short steps into the room.  His legs finally obeyed his commands and he traveled the few remaining steps to the tub.  He slowly bent down until he was kneeling in front of the tub and, with far more care than was necessary, he rolled up the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing.

“Vincent,” her voice was like a caress to his skin, “perhaps you might wish to remove your shirt so it doesn’t become wet.”  Her hands reached out to him and, finding his broad chest within easy reach, she quickly searched for the buttons, unfastening several of them before his hands stopped her.  His hands tried and failed in several attempts before he was able to complete the task. He pulled the shirt off, setting it on the vanity.

When he looked back at her, her hands were covered with soap.  She moved her hand to her breasts, softly washing her skin.  His breathing was ragged; in fact, he was having difficulty remembering to breathe at all.  His dark blue eyes were alive with passion as they watched the lazy circle of soap Catherine’s fingers drew. “Vincent.”

He realized she was holding the sponge and soap out to him. With shaking hands, he slowly took the sponge and began to lather it.  His hand trembled as he carefully began to wash her back.  She reached up, lifting her hair out of his way and, as she did so, her breast brushed his hand which was resting on the side of the tub. The sponge went flying, sending a shower of water over him.  He grabbed for the sponge then dropped the soap and it floated momentarily then settled between her legs.

He jerked, his body throbbing as he fought for control. His voice was raw, filled with all his pent-up longing.  His arms reached into the water, pulling her upward, water soaking him as her body came to rest against his, her mouth seeking his.  One arm held her tightly against his chest while the other sought the pleasure of her curves. He kept returning to her mouth, drowning in the taste of her. “Catherine, please teach me, show me how to love you.”

Somehow he found a towel and, with infinite care and maddening slowness, he began to dry her body.  He picked her up and carried her toward the bed.  “Vincent,” she asked between kisses, “is there a moon tonight?”  He finally managed to take his eyes off her, and glanced toward the balcony. “Yes, there is a moon; why?”

“I always dreamed of making love to you in the moonlight.”

Still holding her in his arms, he walked toward the balcony and pulled back the drapes.  The moonlight, which had been partially hidden by the sheers, flooded the room with light as a soft groan escaped his lips.  “How beautiful you look in this light.”

As they approached the bed, Catherine stopped nibbling his neck. “Vincent, I want to undress you.”  She stood in front of him, slowly tracing the muscles of his chest; then, pulling him closer, she began to place light, feathery kisses upon his chest.  Her hips brushed against him repeatedly.

“Catherine....” He was panting as her hands slid over the front of his very tight jeans.  Her hands continued to caress him as they worked the jeans down and off his trembling legs.

The shock as their bodies finally touched was so electrical, so intense, sparks seemed to pass between them as his hard muscular body met her soft curves.  Catherine’s hands became her eyes, delighting in the feel of his body.  Feelings which Vincent had long buried and denied floated free under the relentless assault of Catherine’s hands and lips.  And in that freedom, Vincent truly became one with Catherine’s spirit, knowing the total joy that love and loving brought to him.

Buried within his innocence, Catherine found the smoldering core of his sexuality - the sexuality Vincent denied, but which was so much a part of him: the sexuality he was never aware he possessed as he surrendered his whole being unto her.  Catherine gently led the way, only to be delighted as each new caress was returned with more boldness, eagerness and a growing skill.

Vincent slowly explored Catherine’s body with his hands and mouth.  Even in his innocence, he knew his joy would be increased if Catherine’s pleasure came first.  His satisfaction was secondary only to pleasing her, giving her pleasure.  Nothing prepared him for the joy he felt in touching her so freely, or how his own body felt as she caressed him.

Their awareness of each other, the intuitiveness of their bond, heightened as their joy increased.  They knew without words how to give pleasure, the sensitive spots to touch, where kisses inflamed and delighted.  The past ceased to exist; the only reality was now as they moved together, seeking the destiny they both knew was theirs: the joining of their souls.  Their bodies blended, joined, moving to the rhythm of their souls intertwined in perfect harmony as their love culminated in a joyous blending of two souls.

Vincent continued to hold Catherine long after their breathing had returned to normal.  He felt no need to withdraw from the velvety sheath where he rested; he felt such peace resting within Catherine’s body.  His emotions were tumbling through him, each blending into the previous one, yet distinctly separate. Vincent knew he never wanted to withdraw from Catherine; he wanted always to remain a part of her body, to be joined to her forever.  Drawing her closer under his hips, his hands continued to fondle, caress her body.

Catherine’s arms encircled his neck, pulling his head to rest against her breasts. “I feel so deliciously replete, Vincent, here with you.”

He nuzzled her breast then was drawn again to kiss her. “My dreams, nothing, prepared me for this experience.  To be so joined with you, Catherine, surpasses any human experience I ever thought to have.  The oneness I feel ofspirit, soul and body is beyond all things - l felt myself floating free in some fiery heavenly place; then your soul joined mine, and we became one.”


They slept in each other’s arms, holding and cradling each other.  Vincent woke once during the night, feeling a tiny shock to his system as he realized he lay naked in Catherine arms.  A smile played at the corner of his mouth as he drifted into sleep again, the warmth of Catherine’s body and her love surrounding him.

This feels so right, so good, she thought as she grabbed a handful of golden hair and drew Vincent’s mouth to hers. She tried to concentrate solely upon his mouth, but the happiness within her welled up, causing her to giggle. Drawing away at first, Vincent did not understand her laughter, but her smile, the warmth of her laughter, touched him and he was drawn to the sound.  He kissed her lightly and trailed soft kisses down her throat.

She inhaled sharply as his mouth claimed her breast.  Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted.  Her body trembled as he gently licked and sucked at her nipple.  Puzzled, he raised his head but could detect no pain within her - but her reaction had been so strong, so definite. “Catherine, have I hurt you by kissing you so?”

The question was lost upon her at first, then she realized the loving innocence which had prompted it. “No, you haven’t caused pain; you cause such pleasure you simply take my breath away.  I very much enjoy feeling your mouth on my breasts just as I like it when your hands are touching me there. Different places are more sensitive and give more pleasure than others.  My breasts are sensitive to your touch; therefore, I find it very pleasurable to have you caress them.

“Is this pleasurable to you, Vincent?”  Her hands drew tiny circles across his stomach, each circle moving lower and lower until he was groaning with pleasure.


Chapter 11

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