ALL THAT HEAVEN WILL ALLOW

"All That Heaven Will Allow - Part Two"
by Debbie Nockels

RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters are mine (I wish!). They belong to Ron Koslow, who created them, and I'm not sure who else at this point in time.
NOTES: The incomparable words at the end of the story are not mine. I only wish I could write such powerful poetry. It was written by Ron Koslow, for whichever episode followed TLBL. (I'll have to look it up.)
___________________________________________________________________________

�� Catherine's eyes widened with shock. "Vincent, no!" she gasped.

�� "I felt like a beast, Catherine. And you...." He stopped. His eyes burned blue fire through her mind. In the thick silence, Catherine heard the rapid beat of her heart. Her numb brain refused to work; she could find no words. What followed then stunned her even more.

�� Vincent lowered his head. To her complete confusion, his lips brushed against her breasts, then his mouth moved up her chest and neck, punctuating his words with soft, nibbling kisses.

�� "You...felt like...an animal...too...." His sharp fangs were nipping at her earlobe now, his breath hot against her skin. "Wild...and sleek...and ravenous...." His voice growled low in her ear, thick, rough, incredibly sensuous.

�� Catherine felt their bond open to her once more, and she was filled with the warm, sparkling, joyous glow that was Vincent's love. She went limp with relief, then stiffened in sudden outrage.

�� "Damn it, Vincent, how could you do that to me? You had me worried to death!" She glared into his face, further annoyed by the mischief she read in his sparkling eyes. Squirming, she tried to wiggle out from underneath him. Vincent promptly tightened his grip on her hands and increased the pressure of his body on hers, pressing her even more deeply into the accommodating mattress. Panting, she ceased her futile efforts, glaring up at him.

�� "I'm sorry, my love. Were you worried?" His contrite tone was belied by the unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, the telltale twitch of his lips. Again his mouth and tongue swept over her neck in a trail of light, breathtaking caresses while his free hand stroked along her cheek, moving into her hair and down the nape of her neck. His touch was whisper-soft and in spite of herself Catherine responded, moving into the caress. She heard Vincent chuckle. Belatedly, her own sense of humor returned.

�� "You beast!" she whispered sweetly into his ear, and felt the shaking of his silent laughter.

�� Slowly his hand moved from her neck, stroking down across her collarbone, stopping just above her breasts. His thumb moved sideways, caressing the outer fullness but not venturing inward. Restlessly, Catherine moved, wanting a more intimate touch.

�� "Am I forgiven, love?" His body moved in a slow, sinuous slither, warm, living velvet rubbing across her skin. Catherine arched closer against the titillating softness, groaning at the erotic sensation. She felt his mouth slide along her jaw, and parted her lips eagerly for his kiss.

�� At some unknown point, she became aware that he had released her hands, so she twined her fingers into his thick mane and pulled him closer, running her tongue along the fullness of his lower lip, gently biting. With a muffled groan, Vincent wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, kissing her with an intensity both passionate and tender.

�� When she could speak again: "Yes."

�� Vincent looked dazed. " 'Yes'?"

�� Catherine's upward glance was demure. "Yes, you are forgiven."

�� Vincent blinked, then chuckled. "Thank you."

�� To Catherine's amazement, he then slid off her and stood up beside the bed, extending one hand out to her. Wondering, she looked at him.

�� "Will you join me in the shower, Catherine?"

�� Eyes narrowed, Catherine considered this invitation. It was true, they were both in need of a shower, especially after last night...and very early this morning...and a couple of hours after that, and.... And there was a gleam in Vincent's eyes that made her knees go deliciously wobbly. She had to swallow before her tightened throat would allow her to reply.

�� "I would be happy to join you in a shower, my love." Taking Vincent's hand, she let him pull her out of the bed, but before he could turn away she grabbed him around the waist and held on tightly.

�� "I love you." Her voice was muffled in the downy warmth of his chest. His arms came around her and she felt a kiss drop on the top of her head.

�� "And I love you."

�� They stood for a moment, lovingly entwined, then Catherine pulled away. "If you'll give me a minute, I'll get things ready in the shower."

�� Vincent looked perplexed. He seemed about to speak, then stopped and smiled. "Thank you, Catherine. I'll join you in a minute." He watched her walk across the room, admiring her slender grace. The bathroom door closed behind her, and Vincent turned his attention to the bed. The sight of the rumpled bedding made him smile as he thought of the pleasure they had found there.

�� Inside the bathroom Catherine flushed the toilet with great relief. She hadn't realized how badly she needed to go until she got out of bed; then, the pull of gravity had made her uncomfortably aware of her immediate need. After looking to make sure there were plenty of bath towels within reach, she inspected the contents of the shower stall.

�� Bar of soap; check. Loofah; check. Bath-brush and washcloth; check, check. Shampoo and conditioner; yep. Turn on water and check temperature - too cold! Add more hot...ahh, just right. Adjust spray; don't want pulsing action...at least, not yet. A wicked little grin played over her lips. She heard the door open and turned as Vincent came in the room.

�� "All ready!" She smiled at him and stepped into the shower. Vincent hesitated, glancing curiously around the interior of the stall, then followed her inside. Catherine viewed his powerful body with satisfaction.

�� "It's lucky this is such a large shower; otherwise, we'd be squashed in here like sardines." She moved closer. "Of course, there's a lot to be said for sardines." Her hands moved over his chest, savoring the strong muscles beneath the wet fur.

�� Smiling, Vincent bent to kiss her, ignoring the water spraying his face. Raising his head, he shook the water out of his eyes and moved back slightly, out of target range, surveying the many items sitting around the shower. "I've never seen a shower such as this, Catherine. It's quite remarkable."

�� He looked at the shower head, noticed that it had a handle and apparently could be lifted out of the prongs holding it fast. A detachable shower? He diverted the stream of water with one hand and peered closely at the handle, blinking his eyes against the fine mist.

�� " 'Shower Massage'?" He looked at Catherine in puzzlement. "What does that mean?"

�� Catherine smothered a grin. "I'll show you later, okay?"

�� Vincent nodded, curious about her secret delight but willing to wait for her to share its cause with him. His thoughts were interrupted.

�� "Vincent, would you hand me the shampoo behind you, please? And you might as well get the conditioner, too."

�� Vincent looked behind him and retrieved the requested items from a built-in niche running the width of the wall. The haunting scent of almond blossoms reached him as she poured some shampoo into her open palm, and he inhaled with pleasure. Catherine smiled.

�� "I've always loved this fragrance, too." She handed the shampoo back to Vincent with a request to put it back on the ledge and proceeded to wash her hair, Vincent watching with interest. When she asked for the conditioner, instead of giving her the bottle he asked her to pour the proper amount in his hand and then gently worked it through her hair. "Like this, Catherine?"

�� "Mmmmm, yes, that feels wonderful," Catherine breathed. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his strong, deft hands massaging her scalp. "I'll give you about two hours to stop doing that." When he was finished, she opened her eyes with a reluctant sigh.

�� "I need to wait a few minutes before rinsing this out, Vincent. In the meantime...." With a decided gleam in her eye, Catherine reached for the bar of soap. Slowly she ran it across Vincent's broad, wet chest, down his arms, under his arms, over his back, hands kneading his powerful muscles, smoothing the soapy fur. When his upper body was foamy with lather, she replaced the soap in its dish and pulled him under the shower spray, joining him there to rinse the conditioner out of her hair.

�� As Catherine stepped out from under the spray, wringing excess water from her hair, she saw with an anticipatory thrill that Vincent now held the soap. Hurriedly she pushed the shower head over to one side so that the stream was directed away from her. She shivered as Vincent stroked the cool, slick bar over her skin, then dropped it into her hands before spreading the creamy film over her shoulders and arms. When his fingers glided over her breasts, Catherine sighed with pleasure and reached out again with the soap. She rubbed it gently across the long hair of his abdomen, then worked up a good lather in her hands. Putting the soap back in its holder, she turned to Vincent.

�� He felt her fingers work through the long, wavy hair of his groin. Slowly her hands moved down, inward, gently washing, lifting, seeking out all the hollows and crevices. His body tightened under the gentle, erotic onslaught and without thought Vincent slid his legs slightly apart, granting her easier access. Her hands moved slowly between his legs, soap-covered fingers gently stroking the delicate, downy flesh which lay cupped in her palms. Sweet fire shot through him and Vincent reached out blindly, pulling her against him, seeking her mouth. He held her with one arm, reaching down with the other.

�� Slippery with soap, his hand glided easily through her thatch of silky curls and slid into her soft, hidden flesh. Catherine's arms tightened around his neck and she broke off their kiss, gasping for air. She wrapped one leg around his muscular thigh, opening herself further to his caress. Slowly, gently, Vincent stroked her, feeling her tremble, sharing the tension beginning to spiral tightly within her.

�� "Vincent," she whispered, shivering. "Vincent, stop. Please."

�� Immediately he froze. "Catherine?"

�� Catherine clung to him, breathing hard. "It's all right, Vincent. It's just that...soap tends to become an irritant, after a while." She smiled wryly. "Believe me, I learned from bitter experience."

�� Vincent reached up to turn the shower head back in their direction, only to be stopped by Catherine.

�� Pulling on the handle, she twisted the unit out of its holder. Vincent watched as she did something to the outer rim of the head. To his surprise, the fine spray turned into fast, rhythmic jets of water. She made another adjustment, and the pulsations slowed down.

�� "This is more pleasant, don't you think?" Catherine turned the spray on him, and Vincent breathed in sharply as the soft pulsations beat gently on his sensitized flesh. When the soap was rinsed entirely off, he took the device from Catherine's hand and directed the spray at her.

�� Starting at her shoulders, he worked his way down, caressing with his hands to be sure no residue remained. Her skin was wet and soft under his palms, flushed from the heat of the water, and before he was through Vincent learned something of the interesting possibilities inherent in detachable shower heads.

�� "May I wash your hair?" Surprised, Vincent looked at Catherine. Her eyes, smoldering and sultry, were fixed on the long, damp strands she was running through her fingers.

�� "Now?" This was not what he had expected; he could feel the passion roiling within her, the racing of her heartbeat.

�� Catherine looked at him with a slight smile. "I think perhaps you could use a rest, Vincent." Her eyes dropped pointedly.

�� Ruefully, Vincent acknowledged the truth of her words. Despite the desire flowing freely between them, his body was not responding as it had earlier. Catherine, on the other hand.... Vincent dropped his eyes, veiling his gaze from her.

�� Catherine opened the shower door and grabbed a bath towel from the nearby rack. She folded it into a thick cushion then placed it on the floor of the shower. "Here, kneel on this." Then, as he stared at her in puzzlement, "My arms will get too tired reaching way up there; you need to come down to my level."

�� A faint smile crossed Vincent's face; slowly he knelt on the wet towel. Catherine grabbed the shower massage and reset the dial back to a regular stream, using it to thoroughly wet the long, tawny mane. She reached behind him for the shampoo bottle, and smiled as she felt his lips on the hollow between her breasts. Before beginning, she dropped a light kiss on his hair, cradling his head against her. His hands moved down her back, stopping to stroke the sensitive skin on the backs of her thighs lightly with his claws before moving inward.

�� Catherine caught her breath, not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed when the caress failed to become more intimate. Shampoo, Cathy!

�� She poured shampoo into her hand and began working it into the soft, incredibly heavy mass of his mane. Twice she added more shampoo before a respectable lather was achieved. As her hands moved across his head, Vincent sighed and rested his forehead against her chest. Catherine massaged his scalp with strong fingers for several minutes, working the shampoo down through the long strands of hair.

�� She said softly, "Tilt your head back and close your eyes." Holding the shower in one hand and supporting Vincent's head in the other, she carefully rinsed until the water ran clear. The released shower head swayed at the end of its hose as, frowning, she surveyed the unruly wet mop before her. "Vincent, is your hair always this tangled after you wash it?"

�� "Yes," Vincent answered apologetically. "Mary makes a rinse which I use; that helps a little. But I don't have it with me."

�� Catherine said, "I'd like to try my conditioner. Do you mind?"

�� Vincent wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and nuzzling her beguiling curves. "No," was all he said, his mouth being otherwise occupied.

�� Catherine replaced the shampoo and took down the bottle of conditioner, resisting Vincent's playful attempts to divert her attention. Laughing, she pushed him away.

�� "Vincent! At least wait until I finish your hair!" She poured out a generous amount into her palm and began working it in, adding more as needed. To her satisfaction, the snarled mats of hair began to smooth out and she was able to work her fingers through the worst of them, though she noted with dismay the considerably decreased level of conditioner left in the bottle. Making a mental note to see if it was available by the gallon, she replaced the bottle in the niche.

�� "Now, we wait a couple of minutes to let it work in all the way, then rinse it out."

�� Vincent rose to his feet and pulled Catherine against him. "And in the meantime...."

�� He found her mouth and kissed her, holding her closely. Catherine melted against his wet body, twining her arms around his neck, and gave herself up entirely to the kiss. Their lips parted and Vincent sighed as she welcomed him into the warmth of her mouth. His tongue touched hers, lightly at first then more strongly, stroking, savoring her softness. Her tongue swept over his lips, up to the cleft in his upper lip, and lingered there, delicately licking the sensitive groove. Slow heat crawled through his veins, and he trembled.

�� Vincent groaned and deepened the kiss, running his hands down her back and over the swell of her hips. He cupped his hands around her buttocks, squeezing, stroking the firm, soft cheeks. Catherine gasped for air.

�� He lowered his head and ran his tongue along the smooth column of her neck, licking away the beads of moisture he found there. Water still dripped from her wet hair and Vincent followed with his tongue one narrow, glistening stream as it trickled over the top of her breast and down the fullness below. He knelt again on the sodden towel, stopping while Catherine reached over and grabbed the shower massage before continuing with his attentions.

�� The warm water began streaming through his hair, tiny rivulets finding their way over his face as he kissed her smooth, wet stomach. Her skin was like satin to his lips. He found her navel and heard her shivering sigh as his tongue caressed the shallow indentation. Her hand clenched once in his hair then resumed stroking the thick, heavy mass. Vincent sat back on his heels and pulled Catherine toward him.

�� Catherine felt her legs quivering as Vincent's mouth trailed soft nibbles down her torso. She moved the shower spray over his hair, mechanically rinsing even as her body responded to his sensuous caresses. Her breath caught when his tongue dipped into her navel then began trailing a lazy, spiraling path downward. His breath on her wet curls sent a tremor through her, and Catherine closed her eyes, feeling her knees grow weak. He pulled her closer.

�� With an achingly slow, sinuous motion, his tongue penetrated the still-swollen folds protecting her soft woman's flesh - and the shower massage dropped from her nerveless hand. How she loved the touch of his tongue, firm yet soft, with the feel of deep, thick velvet. Weakly, Catherine grasped Vincent's shoulders, fighting to stay on her feet, his name an almost voiceless whisper on her lips. "Vincent!" In a daze, she felt him lift one of her legs until it rested on his shoulder, opening her further to his mouth's exploration.

�� The deeply-textured softness leisurely searched and found, delicately surrounded and devoured; warm, living velvet stroking, pressing, infusing every throbbing nerve-end with devastating pleasure. Catherine's hands clenched unknowingly around handfuls of Vincent's mane as she arched closer to the intoxicating rapture. Her head swam. Vaguely she felt movement and then the coolness of the wall tiles against her back, keeping her upright as her supporting leg buckled. Then all thought vanished and she cried out in explosive release while slow, hot flames consumed her, her only awareness of mindless, soaring ecstasy.

�� Vincent caught Catherine as she slid bonelessly into his arms. Still kneeling, he held her close, savoring the lingering flashes of pleasure quivering through her. Vincent was quivering a little himself. He had felt her climax as strongly as if it had been his own.

�� With an achingly slow, sinuous motion, his tongue penetrated the still-swollen folds protecting her soft woman's flesh - and the shower massage dropped from her nerveless hand. How she loved the touch of his tongue, firm yet soft, with the feel of deep, thick velvet. Weakly, Catherine grasped Vincent's shoulders, fighting to stay on her feet, his name an almost voiceless whisper on her lips. "Vincent!" In a daze, she felt him lift one of her legs until it rested on his shoulder, opening her further to his mouth's exploration.

�� The deeply-textured softness leisurely searched and found, delicately surrounded and devoured; warm, living velvet stroking, pressing, infusing every throbbing nerve-end with devastating pleasure. Catherine's hands clenched unknowingly around handfuls of Vincent's mane as she arched closer to the intoxicating rapture. Her head swam. Vaguely she felt movement and then the coolness of the wall tiles against her back, keeping her upright as her supporting leg buckled. Then all thought vanished and she cried out in explosive release while slow, hot flames consumed her, her only awareness of mindless, soaring ecstasy.

�� Vincent caught Catherine as she slid bonelessly into his arms. Still kneeling, he held her close, savoring the lingering flashes of pleasure quivering through her. Vincent was quivering a little himself. He had felt her climax as strongly as if it had been his own.

�� In truth, it *was* my release. We are one now in body as well as in soul. I marveled before at the strength of our bond, but now - as well as sharing her thoughts, at times I almost see through her eyes, hear with her ears.

�� Catherine shrieked. Vincent gasped and jerked as though shot. The warm spray from the loosely-dangling shower head had suddenly, without warning, turned ice-cold. Releasing Catherine, he grabbed at the swaying unit and scrambled to his feet. Vincent stared desperately at the controls, meanwhile holding the shower head gingerly away from them.

�� "Here, Vincent." Reaching past him, Catherine pushed in the elegantly faceted knob. The icy spray shut off immediately.

�� "I guess we used up all the hot water," Catherine said, haltingly. "At least I got your hair rinsed in time." She had not yet gotten her breath back, and her legs still displayed a dismaying tendency to tremble. She moved close to Vincent and wrapped her arms around his waist. For once, Catherine said nothing, content to let the bond convey her emotions.

�� They stood for a long moment, wrapped in a cocoon of love and tenderness. Then,

�� "Catherine, you should dry off; you're shivering." Vincent pushed open the shower door and reached a long arm for one of the towels close by. He shook it open and wrapped it around Catherine, rubbing gently.

�� "That's not why I'm shivering, Vincent," Catherine smiled wanly. She fastened the huge towel around herself, watching while Vincent retrieved another one, which she then took out of his hands. Carefully Catherine dried Vincent's fur, using a gentle, blotting pressure, as she was unsure whether the usual brisk rub might not cause him discomfort.

�� I know that cats hate to have their fur rubbed the wrong way - all animals do - and even though most of his body hair is so light and fine that I'm not sure it qualifies as fur, still the principle is probably the same.

�� Vincent cocked his head down at her. "Thank you, Catherine." She looked up sharply, and knew immediately from the look on his face that he had indeed picked up on her thoughts. She smiled wryly. Oh, well.

�� "Vincent, you need to comb out your hair while it's still wet, before new tangles form." Catherine stepped out of the shower and over to the vanity. She pulled open a drawer and stood back.

�� Vincent looked - and remained staring. "My hairbrush and comb? How did these get here?"

�� "I sent a message to Father yesterday. Zach smuggled up a bundle of your things before you got here. Your toothbrush is in this other drawer, here - " she showed him " - and some clothes are hanging up in the closet. Clean underclothes and socks are in the second drawer of my dresser."

�� Vincent blinked. "How did Father get these things out of my chamber without my knowing it?"

�� "I don't know the details," Catherine shrugged, hiding a secret grin, "but in his note yesterday, Father said something to the effect that you might notice if a bomb went off under your chair, but he wouldn't want to put money on it."

�� She laughed out loud then at the look on Vincent's face, then reached over and hugged him. "Don't worry. Jenny said almost the same thing to me when she drove me home yesterday. We must have had a lot on our minds." She smiled, her eyes dancing.

�� Vincent returned the hug. "Obviously," he agreed.

�� Catherine laughed again then pulled away. "While you're finishing in here," she said, "I'll start breakfast. How do you like your eggs, scrambled or fried?" As she spoke, Catherine briskly toweled her own damp hair and ran a comb through it, then opened the bathroom door.

�� She took one step into the bedroom and stopped short, transfixed. There on the freshly smoothed bed lay two flowers tied together: roses, one red, one white, lying on a sheet of white paper. Even from that distance Catherine recognized the distinctive flowing script which covered it. Crossing over to the bed, she took up the vellum in her hand, gently tipping the flowers off onto the pale blue comforter.

There was a moment, when the way was still new
and I was afraid to hope.
You put your hand on mine.... Nothing ever felt
like that to me - like your touch.

I wanted to weep.

You turned and looked at me. Your eyes were
filled with dancing light, and I was bathed
in your warmth;
And I believed in that moment that, even for me,
all things were possible.

In that moment, in your light, I felt what it is
to be beautiful.

How many lives have been touched by you?
How many lives transformed by your courage to give,
and to love?
How many have become beautiful in your light?

We promised always to share the truth, always....

But, Catherine, there is a truth beyond anything,
beyond everything I have ever known, ever
dreamed....
It is the truth of all you have given, of all
you have sacrificed, for me.

The truth of your love humbled me, silenced me.

And the truth I could never share with you
was the truth of how deeply I love you.
I remember.
I remember every moment. Every word. Every look.
Every touch.

Our love will live forever. Nothing will destroy
it, not time nor circumstance
nor death itself.
It is eternal.

I love you, Catherine.

Always.

�� Catherine felt Vincent come up behind her. There was a touch on her shoulder - Vincent's lips - as his arms crept around her waist. She leaned against his solid warmth, not trusting her voice to speak, blinded by tears. Shakily she placed the parchment on the nightstand and picked up the roses. With one finger she touched them, first the red then the white, savoring the smoothness of the velvety petals.

�� Suddenly she froze, only that moment noticing what it was that bound the two stems together: a white ribbon, knotted around a gold filigree wedding band. Almost afraid to breathe, Catherine turned slowly around and looked at Vincent.

�� "Vincent?" Wide and still, her tear-drenched eyes searched his. Time ceased to exist while she awaited his reply, afraid even to begin to hope, unconsciously bracing herself for the crushing disappointment which surely lay ahead.

�� "It was Margaret's. I asked Father for it yesterday." Vincent hesitated, then brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, looking deeply in her eyes. "Catherine, I can offer you nothing which the world values; neither riches nor position nor a name. I have nothing to give you but myself and a heart overflowing with love. But all that I am, all I will ever be, is yours, always. Will you accept this from me?"

�� Catherine closed her eyes in a vain attempt to contain the surging joy which threatened to overwhelm her. She threw herself in Vincent's arms, trembling violently. "Yes! Oh, yes, Vincent! Yes!" She repeated the words over and over, a rapturous chant which stopped only when tears rendered speech impossible.

�� Feeling weak with his own joy, Vincent held Catherine close. His lips moved over her shining hair, down her cheek and found her mouth.

�� "My dearest love," he whispered. Their lips met.

<><><><><><><><><>

After we make love
I'll be lost in the
afterglow
You're all I'm dreaming of
I just can't let the feeling go

After we make love
There's no doubt in my mind I've been
touched by
All that heaven and earth will allow
All that matters is right here and now...

All that matters is right here and now.

THE END

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