Nocturne

Helen Chavez

Winterfest.

Joy and laughter … light flickering from a thousand candles, shadows move in myriad moments, glimpses of faces in an ancient tapestry. Cloth of gold and crimson-jeweled, where beasts of myth and dragons fly, enchanting child and sire alike.

A gathering … a murmur of voices soft, welcome touch and circlet-bound in peace are they, and pledge undying love to each and all … and there … there a son in golden beauty lies calm within his father’s arms. His father. Golden too he is, with azure eyes a-glimmer in the amber light, strong and wise, sweet and gentle. A lion in repose. Her love. Her life.

To dance now is their wish, and music swells this great and noble hall where violins echo and cello sings. Their son now laughs with joy, high-held in his grandfather’s arms, and this man she loves takes her to his soul. She feels his body settle against hers as they slowly begin the timeless rhythm of their loving.

Stepping lightly, silken dress against linen shirt, velvet sleeve against ruffled satin, they dance, breast to breast, heart to loving heart. Soft shimmer of mane falls about her as his deft fingers touch her honey tresses, swirl in ribboned glory, and soon all is forgotten … candlelight dims, voices fade and music becomes all. Hand in hand, body to body, rhythmic, step by step shadows dance in harmony with these two lovers.

A voice whispers in her ear … a deep melody of words meant only for her.

"Catherine … come now. Come with me. I can wait no more …"

And taking her tiny hand in his, he smiles, head tilting in joyous demand as blue eyes smoulder with deepest desire. Her smile says all – no words has she. Clasping his great, clawed hand in loving answer she feels the rough velvet of his skin and sparks burst within her heart.

She is his, and answers to his call.

Their path is long, as he takes her deep within the welcoming earth. Running lightly through ancient halls where whispers flicker and sing eternal, through passages unknown except to him, the seeker of the deep unknown places of this world when the pain of life was too great even for his stalwart heart. But now … now he guides his love, his soul, this cherished woman who holds his love within her velvet breast.

Through caverns now they pass, vast and vaulted … a sweet, fresh wind from places unknown tugs at her hair and teases it from bejewelled ribbon. He stops and watches for long moments, his own golden tresses masking chiselled cheeks and noble brow … a warrior now, taking what is his by right as he catches her in a powerful grasp, sweeping her from her slippered feet to hold her safe within his arms.

And so he carries her, deep, deep into this unknown place, and all this time she rests her head against his breast, safe, cherished, honoured … loved.

For all eternity he would hold her. Passages dark they travel and river deep they pass, until they reach their goal. And her emerald gaze alights on glorious wonder.

A cavern small, beyond the nameless river lies … but such a place dreams could not have borne.

Jewelled, glittering beauty shines from living rock … each crystal, each fleck of opal deep shimmers in candle gleam. Before her crimson cushions lie, swept with gold and deepest blue, embroidered with creatures mythic and symbols lost to man. Crowns and stars, moons and glowing suns that speak of ancient lands, and beside them lies a quilt of carnelian blue, wrought with Persia’s glorious past. This was a gift to him, knowing his love of stories old. A brazier glows, coals red and warm, sending heat that sets their bodies aflame.

For love can now be unbound, unfettered … given and received, fulfilled and sated, and emerald gaze meets azure, knowing all is theirs at last.

Set upon her feet, she finds there is one more joy to set her world alight.

"Listen …" he says.

Music. A drift of soaring sound reaches them from some unknown place … an orchestral beauty that makes her eyes widen with wonder.

"Oh! Oh Vincent! So beautiful, my love …"

And standing close she reaches up to kiss him. Mouth on mouth tongues entwine, murmurs soft, hands caress.

"Catherine … my beloved Catherine …"

Claws gently ease silken cloth from her slender body, and his mouth whispers against her ivory skin. She is his to love … his to possess, his to take. The music softens, tender sounds grace the air as sleek shoulder and high breast are freed, and his breath falters at the perfection of this woman he loves.

Silk falls to the cushioned floor and she is bared to him … all of her, flank and hip and thigh … and her flawless beauty sings to him with urgent rhythm. Her fingers trail on swelling breast, and his heart lurches within his chest.

"Come to me," she sighs, her voice a joy to him. "Come, Vincent … I wish to see you as you see me …"

And wordless, he stands before her. His eyes close as he feels her touch upon him, laces loosened, buttons free. In moments his garments fall from his quivering frame, and his head falls back as her palm lies flat upon his chest, her fingertips trailing on muscled bone upwards … upwards to his vulnerable throat, and she sighs to see the pulse of life beneath his golden skin.

They are freed now, both of them, standing bared, desire upon them now in this distant, lonely place. But the cavern holds them close, this jewelled heaven lying far from curious eyes.

Hands outstretched they touch, a fleeting caress swiftly becoming bolder. Each touch is knowing, familiar, yet new, their love as always bringing wonder to them both. His hand tips her chin and he kisses her, his breath fast and hard in his desire.

"Lie with me …"

And as one they fall on cushioned bliss, a billowing tasselled bed amid this magical place. But one thing he has left until now. Reaching out he loosens her ribboned, sun-kissed hair, spreading it about her, flame and gold upon midnight blue, each lock of burnished hazel shimmering, drifting out until it frames her smiling face, eyes lidded now in want for him.

His kisses rain on silken, flawless skin and she arches to him, hands now smoothing the breadth of massive shoulder, ever downwards, feeling lines of rib and hollowed back to the fullness below. Long, sleek-haired thighs press against her hips, and even now she feels the rhythm of his need.

The music soars, rich and sweeping from its unknown place, and he kisses her once more, hard and wanting.

"If music be the food of love, my Catherine … what shall it be?" His voice rumbles softly, yet she knows the desire roars in his blood as she holds him close.

Smiling, she moves him to that place which is his alone, feeling him nudge against her, hard and ready.

"Pianissimo, I think," is her reply, and at that moment he takes her – but gently he moves, sheathing himself in heated smoothness, reaching to her very womb. Resting for a moment he gazes at her face as she lies beneath him, seeing her eyes widen at his welcome invasion.

"Pianissimo … very softly, Catherine. As you wish."

And softly he moves, thrusting sweetly, slowly, a feather-light touch within her that sends such exquisite joy through her slender body that she holds him tight, legs around him, rhythmic movement rocking her in this sumptuous bed.

But soon it is not enough. Her gasps come quickly now, and she buries her face in his muscled chest.

"Accelerando … please … faster …"

He hearkens to her call and holds her still beneath him, piercing her willing body with his maleness time and time again, faster now, deeper than before, and Catherine sees the jewelled cavern blur and glitter as tears of joy glisten in her eyes. He groans sweetly but holds himself in check. It is not time … he wishes more for her. Her breasts move against his chest and her thighs stroke his hips, holding him to her. He is helpless in her grasp, but he wishes her pleasure more than life itself.

"Not yet, Catherine … oh God, not yet …"

And she cries out as he slows his thrusts.

"Vincent, please … more!"

"Yes, my love … more … but slower. Adagio, perhaps …"

Catherine moves beneath him as his body sings to hers, their movements slow … measured. At that moment she feels every inch of him, all of him, reaching to her fullest depths as he explores with full and ready manhood her honeyed depths.

"Just there, perhaps … or there … yes, there …" He growls and watches her with sapphire gaze, each movement bringing gasping joy from her, her hair in wild, haloed beauty about her. Soft cries echo from her perfect throat and he kisses her, tracing her elegant shoulder with love.

But soon he needs more, surrendering to the feel of her around him, tight and snug, slick and wanting, and his voice is harsh with need.

"Ardente, my love …" and his thrusts hasten now, feeling himself swell within her, readying, ardent, his need making itself known as he fills her with his hardness.

Cries fill this distant, unknown place, and two bodies move as one on silken glory. Ancient eyes of mythic beasts watch as Vincent plays his Catherine’s body, a measured, rhythmic barcarolle of pleasure, steady, timeless, until a mounting need for more takes over.

All becomes lost.

Her thighs widen further to take him unto her body, deeper than ever before. Hands clutch, kisses bruise sultry lips, and groans fill the air with want. Glistening bodies entwine in timeless love, plunging, seeking, belly to belly they dance, an arpeggio of movement and pleasure, arching, thrusting, wanting …

"Vincent … Vincent … oh God … now … it has to be now …"

He heeds her cry and groaning, he bends to his task willingly.

"Oh, my Catherine … I need … I need to …"

And azure gaze seeks out emerald depths, loving, lusty, knowing what this moment is and what it will mean.

Crescendo.

A roar fills this ancient place, Vincent’s powerful frame arching over his woman, Catherine crying out her completion as pulsing, throbbing, uncontrolled, they strain together. Deep within her she feels his pleasure, jetting, liquid, heat and hardness mingle to send her joy spiralling ever upwards into the jewelled night.

She is his now, as she has always been. He stills, shuddering, hips tight to hers, buried within her welcoming depths. He gives her all he has, his seed, his life … his soul. And she welcomes him with all she is, knowing his lust is slaked with loving joy, knowing that perhaps new life will come from this timeless moment.

Long moments pass. A heartbeat, a lifetime perhaps … but slowly they sink down upon their cushioned bed, still joined, echoes of pleasure thrilling through their sated bodies. Small thrusts still move them, even as they lie in sprawled abandon.

They are quiet now, their passion stilled. She holds him close, soothing his tawny brow as he lies upon her, her gentle hands tracing the fall of his breast and hip. Reaching out she pulls the quilt upon their supine forms, warm and comforting. They will not move now. Long will they lie, her thighs cradling him, his head resting on the smoothness of her shoulder. He is still within her, soft now, but needing the feel of her muscled sheath.

Warm she lies, glowing deep within, knowing his seed lies within her womb. For now is their time, and she smiles. Above them glitter opals fine and crystals rare, and music drifts quietly to silence. All is still.

"A nocturne," she says, content. "Music of the night."

Upon her breast Vincent smiles in turn.

"Yes, my Catherine. But remember, my love – the night has only just begun …"