by Heather Andrews
Catherine bent her head forward, allowing Vincent’s mouth to leave moist kisses on the side of her neck as he stood behind her, his arms holding her close. Slowly his hands slid upward until each hand cupped a breast already tipped by a hard nipple.
She shuddered and let out a shaky breath, her hands involuntarily flexing as they searched for something to grab. She leaned back into his solid warmth and went limp, trusting him to keep her upright.
Vincent responded by placing a lingering kiss on the nape of her neck. Pinching her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, he used the grip to pull her closer yet. His arms and body now surrounding her as much as possible in this upright position, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
Catherine woke from the steamy dream of Vincent’s hands cupping her breasts to a somewhat irritating reality. There was something tickling her face, and she swiped at it thoughtlessly, trying to immerse herself back in the dream.
The voice was accompanied by a firmer but still soft touch to her face.
She opened her eyes, recognizing her surroundings with a happy flutter of her heart. She was lying on her side, facing into Vincent’s chamber from her position on his bed. She felt the touch on her face again, and rolled her shoulders and head back just enough to be able to see Vincent’s beloved face hanging above her.
Catherine smiled sleepily at her love and reached up to grasp his hand. She pulled it forward, the backs of his knuckles sliding across her cheek and lips. She planted a sensuous kiss in his palm as soon as the smooth coolness of his nails passed over her lips.
"Is it morning already?" she wondered aloud in a hushed voice.
"Yes, but very early," he answered in an equally quiet voice.
Puzzled, she rolled a little further onto her back. Vincent was lying on his side behind her, head propped on one hand, just close enough that she couldn’t quite lie flat—her shoulder rested against his chest and she was conscious of his warmth next to her.
"Why did I wake you?"
He pulled his hand from her grasp and maneuvered himself a little closer to her, the movement rolling her back up onto her side.
Instead of answering, he returned his hand to her cheek, caressing it with the backs of his knuckles. He drew it down her neck and across her shoulder, then pulled it a bit away, only allowing the tips of his nails to drag tantalizingly down the side of her upper torso. Her body tensed.
"You were having a dream." It wasn’t a question.
At the unexpected words, her mind snapped back to the content of her dream, and she flushed.
"Yes," she confirmed.
"It was…about me?" His voice was tentative, unsure. This physically intimate facet of their relationship was still new, and he was uncertain about making assumptions relating to it.
"About us," she corrected, snuggling her back into his chest and sighing as he ran the palm of his hand down the slope of her shoulder and torso, down into the dip of her waist, then back up and over her hip. It felt so delicious to feel his hands on her, finally.
"And what were we doing in this dream of yours?" His voice came from right next to her ear, and the softly growling tone and warm burst of breath caused a shiver to make its way down her body.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her body after its convulsive shudder. "You were standing behind me, and—oh!"
He had trailed his nails down her side again, but this time he hadn’t stopped at her upper torso. Rather, he had continued down the same path he had followed earlier with his palm.
The firm pressure of earlier had made her want to purr in pleasure and snuggle closer. This delicate tracery, on the other hand, caused an involuntary tensing that arched her back away from Vincent and had the felicitous side effect of shifting her shoulders and hips closer to Vincent.
Her surprised gasp was quickly followed by a tandem moan as her bottom pressed into his groin. Neither of them had been prepared for that outcome.
Her breath hitched as she tried to recover from the stimulating sensation, and she relaxed the arch of her back. It had been extreme enough that holding it in that position was uncomfortable. Still, she experienced acute disappointment when the easing of her back muscles also eased her away from the intimate pressure of Vincent’s erection on her bottom.
Her distress was short-lived.
Vincent, delighted with this new discovery, again trailed his nail-tips down Catherine’s side.
Her gasp was accompanied by a strangled giggle and the reflexive bowing of her back. Again she eased the tension in her body by straightening out her back.
Vincent placed his palm on her shoulder and followed the path with his whole hand, soothing her. "I did not know you were that ticklish," he whispered in her ear.
She twisted her neck around so she could look at him. He had a small enchanted smile on his lips, and she just couldn’t resist it. "Neither did I," she replied, then lifted her head off the pillow and latched her lips on to his.
So it was that she didn’t see the mischievous glint in his eyes or expect the attack that followed.
He ran his nails down her side again, and the explosive gasp that exited her mouth caused their lips to disconnect. "Vincent!" she half-shrieked in disbelief.
He was having entirely too much fun with this. She made a quick decision, and this time she followed the relaxing of her back with a shift of her hips on the bed, toward Vincent but still not touching him.
When his nails made their fourth expedition down the roller-coaster flare of her waist and hip, she was ready for it. Taking advantage of the tensing of her body, she ground her backside into Vincent’s shaft.
She had expected his moan, but not the slight growl that accompanied it. Thoroughly satisfied with the result of her scheming, she allowed herself a small smile. Two could play at that game.
But Vincent wasn’t finished. They had only been intimate for a few weeks, and up until now it had been sensual and tender or hot and intense. This was the first time it had really gotten playful, and it was a delightful experience.
He grabbed Catherine’s hips and pulled them toward himself, reveling in her smooth flesh.
She groaned, the new pressure causing her body to shudder with pleasure. She was always so amazed at the intensity with which Vincent applied himself to any new endeavor.
His voice interrupted her musings. "Now, I believe you were telling me what we were doing in your dream…?"
"My d-dream?" Catherine could think of nothing except the reaction of her body to Vincent’s proximity. He was now grinding his groin into her backside, and the motion seemed to have a direct result inside her body. She felt herself growing wetter and wetter, until she pictured herself as a candle, only one that melts from the inside out…