A Birthday Gift

by Donna Lynne Howard


    Catherine looked deeply into Vincent’s eyes.  She was lying relaxed in his arms, replete after another long bout of lovemaking.  It had taken her months to persuade him to make love to her.  Now, however, he acknowledged that she truly did desire him.  With their bond growing ever stronger by the day, it would have been difficult for him to deny her sincerity.  Sometimes the feelings were overwhelming.  She felt slightly dissatisfied, however.  Vincent was everything she had known he would be - gentle, considerate, a patient lover who would happily spend hours lavishing her with caresses and tender kisses.  Somehow, he was almost a little too careful, too gentle.  Catherine found herself dreaming sometimes of the hours she had spent in the cave with him, when the black storm of despair had overwhelmed him and he had lost control of his darker side.  The memory still troubled him, and he had a hard time accepting that he could have been so wild.  She had a hard time sometimes, too, remembering that Vincent really had been that way.  The memory was not at all unpleasant, though.

    She finally decided that it was time she try to make some of her dreams reality.  Her birthday was only a few weeks after that decision.  Her closest friends threw a party for her, and she enjoyed spending time with everyone again.  Splitting her time between her family below and her demanding career above left her little time to socialize.  Vincent gave her a beautiful poem which he had written for her.  Her friends Below, with little money to spend, gave her a truly inspired gift.  Since she was so busy, they said, she and Vincent did not have enough time together.  They would keep Jacob for the next several days.  She and Vincent could disappear, and no one would look for them.  They suggested she take Vincent back to her apartment, where no one would disturb them except in the direst emergency, and enjoy some quiet time together.

    It was the opportunity which Catherine had been waiting for.  They happily went above, and ensconced themselves for the duration.  As much as Catherine loved the tunnels, she was always very conscious of the open doorways and the lack of true privacy.  Now that they were truly alone, she could try to talk to Vincent about her dreams and fantasies.

    When they reached her apartment, he drew her into his arms.  As he bent to kiss her, she rose to meet him.  She was eager, having thought of this moment since they had left the party.  He had sensed her rising desire through their bond, and responded to it.  Her anticipation, mixed with excitement, was clear.  After all these months, Catherine could sense his feelings nearly as well he could sense her own, and she felt clearly his desire and eagerness to please her.  She kissed him passionately, opening her mouth and enticing his tongue into it.  He kissed her back, as passionate as she.  After several long moments, he broke away to start kissing his way down her body. 

    “I plan to kiss every inch of you tonight, Catherine.  Every inch of your body deserves to be celebrated with birthday kisses.” 

    Vincent’s low voice rumbled in her ear, sending shivers of excitement down her spine. Listening to him read her birthday poem had aroused her, but these low, whispered promises were making her feel wild.

    He was as good as his word, spending over an hour kissing her breasts, gently suckling her nipples until she thought she would scream with need.  She tried to return the favor, but he evaded her easily as he pressed his face against her groin.  “Happy birthday, Catherine,” he whispered against her curls.  The vibrations shot through her mound, the overload of sensation crashing through her and making her climax. 

    “Vincent,” she cried, as he kissed her clitoris, his slightly rough tongue stroking her slowly and thoroughly.  She quivered under his touch, coming again and again.  After what seemed like hours Vincent entered her, his huge swollen penis making her moan with ecstasy. 

    He stroked slowly and carefully, as she tried to urge him to move faster and deeper.  He was painstaking, methodical, and so very careful.  She couldn’t get enough of him.  He kept up his steady rhythm until she climaxed again, the surge of pleasure through their bond and the sensation of her clenching around him sending him over the edge.  He thrust more deeply as he came, and Catherine relished both the feeling of him so deeply inside of her, and his pleasure echoing through their bond. 

    They dozed briefly, then woke to kiss and stroke each other again.   They made love again, and this time Vincent allowed her to kiss and caress him as she so dearly wished to.  She spent nearly as much time as he had, exploring Vincent’s body with loving thoroughness.  Much later, they listened to each’s other’s heartbeat and enjoyed the peace.

    As they lay tangled in the wide bed, she wondered whether to speak.  In the end, she decided to try.  “Vincent, thank you again for the wonderful poem.  I knew you could do anything you put your mind to, but it’s so beautiful...  I have never had such a special present before, except for Jacob, of course,” she added teasingly.   “Although, sometimes I have to wonder if he was a gift or a curse.  He can have the worst timing!”

    Vincent chuckled.  “He must take after you, sweetheart.  After all, Father always said that I was an angel.”

    “An angel of mischief, maybe!  Devin has told me all about what you two used to get into, and whose idea it usually was!”

    “Rumors, lies and innuendos.  He is just jealous that I have you and he is not that lucky.”

    Catherine simply smiled in response.  She was pleased that Vincent was so happy - he had not been in this lighthearted a mood in months.  Perhaps he needed this break from the tunnels and his duties there as much as she had needed a break from work.  It boded well. “Anyway, Vincent, thank you. I cannot write anything that is not businesslike.  I can’t imagine how you do it.  I am going to have a friend who does calligraphy make a copy to hang on the wall here.”

    “I only wish I could give you everything you deserve, Catherine.  I understand now the poets, who wish to give their beloved the moon and the stars.  This is the closest I can manage.”

    “It was perfect.”  She paused for a moment.  “There is one other thing I would like for my birthday, though, something only you can give me,” she said tentatively.

    “What is it, Catherine?” he asked.  He looked rather surprised, but not offended or unwilling       Their bond echoed her anticipation and hope, mixed with a strong feeling of  trepidation.  “What could I possibly give you?  And why would it worry your so?”

    Catherine pulled back slightly, so she could look into his eyes.  She was focusing intently on him, hoping to gauge his reaction to her request.  She also concentrated on their bond, trying to show him her sincerity and need. “Vincent...” she said slowly, “I love our special times together.  I know you can sense just how blissful you make me feel.  We share each other’s pleasure, so you know just how much you excite and complete me.”  She paused, searching for the right words to continue.

    Vincent was flushing now.  Catherine’s eyes watched his discomfort, reading him clearly.  She could tell that he was not entirely comfortable with this frank discussion of sex.  He was still not fully reconciled to her desire, even though their bond no longer allowed him to ignore it.  While their lovemaking was mutually enjoyable, somehow he still obscurely felt that he was not fit to be with her.  Someday, she hoped to rid him of that idea for good.  Still, he was not attempting to evade the subject as he had in the past .  That was a hopeful sign. 

    “I have been having fantasies, which I was hoping you would help me fulfill.  I know, as well read as you are, that you have read about women who fantasize about being kissed intimately, or watching themselves in a mirror, or even making love outside!  I have to admit I’ve dreamed about us making love on a warm tropical beach.  That is not practical, of course, but I do have other fantasies we might explore.”

    Vincent was flushing even more deeply.  Catherine kept her eyes were fixed on his, silently demanding that he not look away.  She sent him through their bond her sincerity, her hope and anticipation, although she could not quite still that faint sense of trepidation.  Vincent still did not  speak but silently nodded, encouraging her to continue.

    “Vincent, you are the most considerate and gentle lover I have ever known or could imagine.  Sometimes, though, I fantasize about seeing your more forceful side.  I find myself dreaming of the time I spent in the cave with you.  I know you do not like to think of that time, but I found it incredibly exciting.  The memory alone makes me want you, badly.  Can’t you sense my excitement now, just from talking about it?”

    Catherine’s eyes had stayed locked on Vincent’s throughout her speech, demanding he acknowledge her truths.  “You can sense me through our bond, Vincent.  You know that I am telling the truth.”

    “I cannot deny your sincerity, Catherine, but I have a hard time believing it.”

    “I know you saw that book of women’s fantasies which I left in your chamber.  I also know you looked at it.  Vincent, I hope you can understand and accept that my fantasy is to be dominated by you.  I dream of you taking me forcefully, wild and strong as I know you can be.  I’ve had so many daydreams..... you as a pirate, taking me prisoner to serve your lusts; as a pasha, keeping me locked in your harem, bound to obey your every whim; even as a Petruchio, taming his reluctant Kate with his fiery sex...”
   
    Catherine was now blushing to match Vincent.  She could see he was shocked, struggling not to show it. “You’re upset,” she said dejectedly.  “I shouldn’t have spoken...  Please Vincent, don’t let me have spoiled everything.”  She allowed feelings of remorse (perhaps a little exaggerated) and embarrassment to flood outwards.  The negative, unhappy feelings shocked Vincent, as part of her had secretly hoped they would.  He leapt to reassure her.

    “No, Catherine!  No, we should be able to speak of anything with each other.  Somehow, I never imagined...” he trailed off, uncertain of what exactly to say. 
    “No, Vincent, forget I said anything.  I would not want you to be uncomfortable.  They were just fantasies.”

    “They were important enough for you to speak of to me.  I know you found it difficult.  I just don’t know what to say.”

    “Don’t say anything then, Vincent.  We can talk later.”  With that she kissed him deeply, encouraging him to replace conversation with something more immediately satisfying.  Soon, they were sleeping the sleep of the replete.

    Catherine sleepily opened her eyes in the crisp, clear dawn light.  She saw Vincent looking down at her, smiling tenderly.  He was leaning on one arm, propped over her.  He had obviously woken earlier than she and had been watching her sleep.  Love was clear in every line of his face.  She smiled up at him, then reached up to kiss him.

    “Good morning, love,” she whispered as she pulled him down to her. 

    Vincent kissed her back, gently at first, although the kiss quickly grew heated.  Finally they broke the kiss as their stomachs growled in unison. 

    “Breakfast,” laughed Vincent.  “We need sustenance if we want to keep this up!”

    “We had better put robes on, then, if you want me to keep my mind on food!”

    They breakfasted, and then cuddled in each other’s arms on the sofa, talking idly of the small detail of their lives. 

    Vincent’s face tensed as they spoke.  He looked uncertain, even perturbed.

    “What is it, Vincent?  What bothers you so?

    “Catherine, I was remembering when I lost control.  This morning as you slept, bits of it came back to me.  My memories of that time have never been clear.  I don’t think I really want to remember.  However, I could sense how violent and threatening I was.  How could I not have frightened and hurt you?  I don’t ever want to do that again.  You are the most important thing in my life.  I will not risk hurting you in any way.  You deserve everything to be perfect.”  His face reflected his inner struggle to understand and accept her desires.

    “That’s not realistic, Vincent.  Life is not perfect for anyone.  I am not angel, and I do not want to be put on a pedestal.  You did not hurt me when we were in the cave.  I was not really frightened, since I knew that you could never hurt me.  You didn’t.  I was right about that.  I may have been a bit...overwhelmed...”  Catherine’s lips curved in a smug, very satisfied smile as she remembered that night. 

    Vincent pulled back a little, rather shocked.  “Catherine!”  Her memories of wild excitement had sent emotion cascading through their bond, lust and exhilaration both.  Catherine could feel his arousal in turn as her emotions fed his.  

    “It was not just Jacob’s conception that makes that night so special to me, Vincent.  I have never felt so needed, so wanted.  The knowledge that you wanted me so badly that you lost control was very exciting.  I’ve never had such a spectacular experience before.  I know that you don’t want to lose control that badly again, and I would not want you to.  Perhaps, though, you could be a little more...forceful?  Even demanding?  Through our bond, Vincent, you can tell when I am truly uncomfortable, or scared, or in pain.  Unlike most people, you don’t have to guess.  Maybe we could try a little experimentation?  We can always stop if you are too uncomfortable.”

    Vincent rose from the sofa and stretched his hand to Catherine, intending to help her rise.  “I will try, Catherine.  I just don’t know if I can.”

    She looked up at him mischievously, and smiled as seductively as she knew how.  She did not take his hand, but she did shrug her shoulders, causing her robe to slide off.  She raised her legs onto the sofa and wrapped her arms around them, covering her breasts but also pushing them upwards, enhancing her cleavage. “I don’t know, Vincent.  I think you’re going to have to carry me if you want me on that bed!”

    She silently willed him to go along and enter the playful mood she was creating.  He was always  reluctant to display his strength, but that was one of the things she loved about him.  The movement of those powerful muscles under that soft coating of fur, the sheer power of his body and spirit were incredibly arousing.  The thought alone made her shiver and grow damp. 

    Vincent looked at her for a long moment.  He then dropped his own robe to the floor, revealing his already fully aroused body.

    Catherine nearly licked her lips at the sight.  His penis was right before her eyes.  She could see every detail, and she thought about reaching out and taking him into her mouth.  Somehow, the game seemed a little less important than satisfying the lust surging between them.  As she started to lean forward, her thoughts were interrupted.

    “Well, if that’s the way you want it!” Vincent said as he reached down and swept her up into his arms.

    Suddenly, she felt a spark of mischief from him as he unexpectedly lifted her higher and threw her over his shoulder.  He had never carried her this way before, not that could remember, at least.  One arm wrapped over her legs, holding her securely as he walked to the bed.  She had a wonderful view of Vincent’s bottom, muscles flexing as he walked.  She could feel his strength, the hardness and smooth movements of his muscles beneath her,  and the fur on his arm tickling her legs.  The contrast excited her, and the mixed anticipation and longing were making her dizzy.

    As he reached the bed, he threw her gently onto it.  She lay there, breathless with surprise and need.  She moved slowly against the sheets, silently enticing him.  She wanted him to come and take her - for months, years even she had dreamed it.  She watched him watching her, his eyes turning darker with the arousal she could sense through their bond.  The tension grew higher and higher, as the excitement and need bounced between them, feeding itself and growing ever stronger.   He seemed to grow larger, more dominant and powerful as he stood over her.  A surge of sheer lust moved through her.  Somehow, he had never looked so powerful, so masculine. 

    Catherine reached out to him.  “Please Vincent...I need you so much.  Can’t you see how much I want you?”

    He knelt on the side of the bed and reached his hands out, twining his fingers in hers.  Slowly, he bent to kiss her.

    No!  She had come so close.  She could feel the desire in him, stronger than ever.  Still,  she could tell that he was prepared to kiss her gently again.  She needed more, her whole body was demanding it.  Perhaps.... with a little help from her.  She quickly pulled her hands up and over her head.  They were still entwined with Vincent’s, but now he was nearly lying on her, her hands flat against the bed above her and trapped under his.  The vulnerability of her position, the feeling of helplessness, excited her.  She was Vincent’s, to do with as he pleased.

    “Take me, Vincent!  Now!”

    As Vincent froze in shock, she moved her hips sharply up, grinding her pelvis against his.  He was heavily aroused, and his hard penis slid and pressed against her curls as she moved.  If only she could get him a little lower...

    As she writhed against him, her breasts rubbed against his chest.  The feeling of her hard nipples scraping against the soft fur of his chest excited them both.  She was becoming more and more wildly aroused, feeling out of control herself.

    She pleaded with Vincent as she moved, “See how much I need you.  I feel like I will explode if I don’t have you.  I am yours.  I have always been yours, Vincent.  Please...please take me.”

    Catherine opened her legs wider, rocking against Vincent in a vain attempt to stroke herself against his hardness and ease her need.  She felt as if he were teasing her deliberately.  She could sense the wild excitement in him, but still he refused to move. Finally, after several long minutes, he bent to kiss her.

    His kiss was not gentle.  He ravaged her mouth, taking what he wanted and asking no quarter.   His tongue probed the depths of her mouth again and again.   It fulfilled her every dream of Vincent’s kiss.  It was dark, heady, wild.  

    He pulled back from her and looked down at her.  His eyes were nearly black with arousal.
    “I hope you meant what you said, Catherine.  I am no longer in the mood to be careful or gentle.”  His voice was deep, dark velvet with an edge it had never had before.  She could hear the iron she knew had always been beneath.

    The lust she felt at his blunt statement echoed through the bond.  She could feel him straining to stay in control.  Very slowly, he brought her hands together, and then anchored them in place with just one of his.  With his free hand, he slid down her body to her breasts.  There, he slowly scraped one erect nipple with his claw. 

    She gasped as a tide of excitement swept through her.  She wanted to hurry Vincent, to touch him so he would be as wild as she was.  She rocked against him, once again trying futilely to ease her aching clitoris. 

    “Please, Vincent!”

    “Quiet.  I don’t want to be distracted.  I don’t think you’re excited enough, Catherine.  If you want to play with fire...” He teased her nipple, then bent and sampled it with his tongue.  Her breasts were hot and swollen, the nipples hard and protruding.  She was no longer aware of anything but sensation.  After several minutes, he transferred his attentions to the other one, giving it the same attention until it was as red and swollen as the first.

    She had never gone this high, never felt this excited.  There was only the need, burning so strongly, traveling in tidal waves between them. She moved her hips against his penis, caressing him in the only way she could entice him, the only way he would allow her to touch him.

    He reached down and slid his fingers into her folds, exploring the dampness.  As his claw grazed her clitoris, she bucked and nearly came.  It was almost too much, she was frantic now.

    Her desperation was mirrored by Vincent as he spread her legs still wider.
With one hard thrust he buried himself in her. 

    She gasped with excitement.  He was so large, so hard.  She had craved this for so long....

    Vincent rode her hard, thrusting as deeply as he could, demanding that she take more and more.  She cried out with pleasure as she climaxed.  Catherine could sense the possessiveness in Vincent.  He was taking what part of him knew now was his by right.  She encouraged him, glorying in the sensations that cascaded through her.  He was the wild, demanding lover she had dreamed of.  At the end, he lost control entirely, pounding into her as hard as he could and making her come yet again. 

    As reason returned to his eyes, he looked down at Catherine uncertainly, worry clear on his face. “Catherine, are you all right?”

    Catherine smiled happily up at Vincent.  “Thank you, Vincent, for my very special birthday present.  I hope you won’t wait until my next birthday to do it again!”