Hello all! Long time no update, I apologize for that! Things have finally slowed down enough that I could get this chapter out. But I hope that everyone had a nice Christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate! XD
First things first I would like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I can't thank you guys enough or express how much I appreciate the fact that you all take the time to leave a review. Thank you Thank you! And thank you to my readers in general, because without all of you reading and enjoying this fic, it wouldn't have been written.
Also a giant thank you to Marie Allen who beta read this chapter in record time!
And I would also like to apologize and say that I am apparently a liar, because I have discovered that though this was supposed to be my last chapter, that it ended up longer than expected and the end seemed like a good place to stop, so there will be one final chapter as well as an epilogue to look forward to.
And now...please enjoy!
Chapter 49
Raphael's eyes flashed open with fear as he leapt from the soft, heather-scented surface his body had been resting upon, tearing out an IV that had been placed in his arm, and stumbled back until his carapace struck a wall.
Heart hammering in confusion and panic, his breaths exiting his mouth in heaving gasps, his eyes swept the room he was currently occupying until his gaze fell upon a familiar, arrogant, and slightly battered cat statue that rested upon the nightstand.
Dragging a hand down his face, he tried to calm his frantically beating heart as he remembered what had happened…
…at least up until the point when Catherine had aimed a gun at his head.
"I can't believe she shot me," he growled, looking down at himself, checking for injuries and not finding any, came to the conclusion that he must have been shot with a tranque dart judging by the fact that he a) wasn't dead, b) his head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton balls and c) his tongue felt like a giant ball of wool.
He surveyed his surroundings and wondered where the hell he was, because the room he was currently occupying was completely unfamiliar to him.
It appeared to be a ski lodge or log cabin of some sort, with rounded, exposed timbers upon the walls and ceiling. There was a large, rustic, king-sized bed in the center of the room, along with matching nightstands on either side, and a matching dresser pushed against one wall. There was a door which led to an adjoining bathroom, and a chair sitting in the corner with numerous duffle bags strewn on and around it.
Slipping on his boots, conveniently placed on the floor by the bed, he strode towards the duffle bags, tearing open the zippers to discover his clothing, some possessions and his sais stuffed inside.
Frowning, he strode from the room and concentrated on his efforts of placing one foot in front of the other, feeling a little weak, but surprisingly better than he had when he had last been conscious.
Looking back over his shoulder at the bedroom where the cat statue sat, he stared at it a moment, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Catherine had kidnapped him and dragged him to…wherever he was now.
Grabbing the newel post, he listened intently, not hearing any sounds coming from anywhere from within the…
House? Cabin?
He wasn't sure, but wherever he was, it was so quiet and still that he suddenly felt as if he was suffocating.
Taking a steadying breath, he carefully made his way down the stairs. Using the banister for support he made his way down to the lower level, intent on confronting Catherine about whatever insanity she had enacted; because he refused to listen to the dark, tiny voice that whispered in the back of his mind, that Catherine was not there.
Stomping down on the faint trepidation that filled him, he stoked the embers of his anger at Catherine's actions, clinging to it like a security blanket as his eyes scanned the living room and kitchen area. Both were empty and did not appear to have been occupied or used and had not been updated since the '80s -which was not a good look.
He caught brief glimpses of a garden and grassy lawn through the windows and strode towards the door, believing that Catherine would be outside, somewhere close.
Striding towards the front door, he slowly turned the knob and eased it open, scanning the area that he could immediately see.
Opening the door wide, he stepped out onto the wooden porch and gaped at the view in front of him.
High mountains rose above the tree-line in the distance, while before him lay a vast, thick pine and birch forest. A deer grazing at the very edge of the brush raised its head and darted back into the trees, vanishing with a white flick of its tail. All the scenery needed was a hawk soaring high over his head and letting out a majestic cry to tie it all together.
"Holy shit," he breathed out in shock. He was in the middle of nowhere.
Literally.
As far as he could see, scenic mountain vistas stretched before him, and not another living soul was in sight, including Catherine.
Turning, he spotted an outbuilding and carefully made his way to the structure that looked to be an old garage of some sort.
Tramping towards the building in agitation, he was able to get a better look at the large two-story log cabin sporting large tinted windows he had just exited.
Shifting his attention back to the weathered grey building, he slid open one side of the huge double doors, the rollers slightly rusted and not allowing for easy movement. Finally able to slide the door halfway open, he peered inside.
He saw that the large space was empty of any human presence and, filled with odds and ends, abandoned junk and other unwanted refuse that Donatello would no doubt have a field day with.
Of Catherine, there was no sign, nor was there any indication that she had ever been there. In fact, the cabin had, from what he had quickly observed, appeared devoid of any secondary presence but his own.
Swallowing roughly, he felt the blood drain from his face as he realized that he had been kidnapped and stripped of everyone in his life that mattered to him.
Dark, heavy despair washed over him, even though he knew that this circumstance was a fate far better than he deserved.
His friends and his family would all finally be able to move on with their lives, content with the knowledge that Catherine had gotten him out of the way, and secure in the knowledge that he was no longer in any position to hurt anyone, including himself.
He had been exiled.
Bracing his hand against a wooden bean he closed his eyes, head bowed with what could only be described as bitter regret and helpless grief.
Catherine had offered him her heart- even after everything he had done to her- and he had decided to throw that precious gift back in her face.
And now it appeared that she had gratefully accepted that much coveted organ back; no doubt to be bestowed upon its rightful recipient: his more worthy older brother.
He hadn't known what to think when she had stood before him, fierce fire lighting her eyes a moment before she had raised the concealed gun at him, but for a single moment, he had stupidly felt hope bloom within him that she was still fighting for him.
But how could he expect her to still love him after he had spewed all of that vile vitriol upon her and pushed her out of his life the best way he knew how?
The answer was that he couldn't.
And whatever hell he had to endure from this moment forward, he would have to suffer. It was his price to pay for what he had done to his family and his friends.
It didn't matter that his breaths were now coming out in heaving gasps of panic; or that his skin was pulled taunt over muscles that were tense and ready for flight; or that his heart felt as if it was trying to escape the confines of his chest at the thought of the terrifying solitude that stretched before him, because-
The guttural rumble of an unfamiliar motorcycle engine sliced through his dark, despairing thoughts. His head snapped up and he stared at the gravel drive, his body tense with trepidation.
He knew there had to be a road at the end of the driveway, obscured by the dense trees that lined the drive, and so he waited one heartbeat and then another, holding his breath to determine whether the sound was travelling in his direction, or passing by.
Determining that the sound was fast approaching and feeling exposed, off balance and weak from his recent endeavours to protect the ones he held dear, he slipped into the shadows of the darkened interior of the barn, not knowing who it was that approached the cabin.
Peering out, the bike slowed before coming to a complete stop, the silhouette of the rider so familiar to him, he would know her anywhere. His heart, which had been thrumming with the faint traces of fear, now beat with nervous pleasure and relief at her presence.
Knowing that Catherine had not abandoned him -at least not yet- nearly caused him to sink to his knees with relief, until he realized that…she should have.
Eyes flashing open as he fanned the nearly extinguished coals of his depleted anger, he wrapped it around himself like a shield, hoping it contained enough strength to allow him to resist the temptation of pulling her close, and begging her never to leave him again.
Taking a deep breath, he growled Catherine's name in anger as he moved from the garage and out into the bright light of day.
Pulling off her full facial helmet, Catherine's hair cascaded down in a waterfall of obsidian and crimson locks, ones he knew that felt like the finest and richest of silks. Her alabaster face was bathed in warm sunlight, the scars that marred her face on full display as she looked over at him as if she was paying a social call as opposed to having just shot and kidnapped him.
"You're finally awake I see," she observed easily as she dismounted from the bike, placing her helmet upon the handlebars of the old Harley Davidson motorcycle that he took a moment to admire before shaking his head and turning his attention to the woman who he recognized as having become the bane of his existence.
"Where the hell were you?!" he snarled, as if this was the most pressing matter to be dealt with.
Tipping her head to the side in thought, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the seat of the bike. "You have been unconscious for the past three days. Apparently your body was taking time to recover after you had decided to deprive it of sleep, food and water. As I had not accounted for this, I needed to run into town for some supplies," she smoothly replied.
Taking a moment to digest this information, he clenched his hands together into angry fists.
"I thought-" he began and then cut himself off as he realized what he had been about to reveal.
"That I had just left you here, alone?" she observed finishing his unvoiced thought anyway.
He remained silent, despising the fact that his weakness was so obvious.
"But that's what you want, isn't it?" she questioned. "To be alone?"
Grinding his teeth in fury, he growled; the sound rumbling low in his chest at the words she so easily threw in his face.
He had always been a part of his small family, but he had dreamed of striking off on his own, a lone wolf roaming the streets of New York, unaffected by the solitude; welcoming of it even. Except then the Shredder had broken his mind along with his body and the prospect of being alone was not something he wanted. It terrified him. But for the sake of his family, it was something he was willing to do.
The only problem with this, was the woman who stood in front of him, gazing at him with a challenge in her eyes, daring him to agree with her statement, and he hated that she knew him so well to know that he couldn't.
"I fucking hate you," he snarled furiously, unable to control the words that tumbled unchecked from between his lips, incapable of reining in his temper because Catherine always had the ability to read him like an open book; to know his innermost thoughts, secrets and desires and use them to her advantage.
At his words, instead of hurt or anger crossing her features, a smile containing the bright light of the sun and a twinkle of mischief spread across her face as she let out a full throated laugh. "I know," she answered with an impish grin, and Raphael felt his thin veneer of anger suddenly stripped away, leaving him defenceless.
She pushed away from the motorcycle and Raphael felt his muscles tighten as his fight or flight instincts kicked in at her approach. He wanted to fight with her, but he couldn't –he never could- because she didn't obey the rules of an argument. It was so damn hard to fight when the person you were fighting with refused to engage and instead turned the whole situation on its head, leaving him speechless, confused and so very lost. At the same time, he couldn't run. There was nowhere to run and he had no choice but to stand firm in his resolve and not back down or away.
Stopping a few feet away, she spoke again, her words still containing a hint of amusement, though there was an underlining thread of sombreness to her tone. "But you don't hate me, Raphael; you hate how I make you feel."
"Yeah, pissed off," he bit out defensively managing to make his legs obey him and take a step back.
She managed a quick smile at his sally, but became serious. "It was a humbling experience, but I realized that every word you spoke during our last conversation -in an attempt to push me away- was absolutely true."
He felt his eyes widen in shock at her admission. The direction of their conversation had suddenly veered so off course that he was only able to stare at her, remembering his cruel, biting words, and knowing he had not meant a single one of them, but was too stunned to refute her claim.
"I can be condescending, arrogant, manipulative and I am most definitely icy," she began, "However, you were wrong about one point," she paused for a moment to make sure she had his undivided attention, and she did, "I don't need to 'fix' you to feel anything, I just need you," she insisted sincerely.
At her words he felt the air leave his lungs. Her earnestness was suffocating him and he was struggling to do the right thing, but it was a battle he was fast losing, and he needed to pull himself together and gather the strength he needed to resist the temptation she offered.
She took another step towards him, her face grave as she spoke again into the silence that lay thickly between them. "I know you don't believe that you need my help and that you don't want it-"
"I don't," he growled automatically as sparks of adrenalin skittered across his skin and his heart slammed against his ribcage like a bird seeking its freedom; her words reminding him of why he could never be with her, giving him enough strength to resurrect a spark of angry determination.
Catherine caught his gaze peering into the very depths of his soul with her seeking green eyes. Studying him for a moment, her shoulders drooped in weary defeat before she took a step away followed by another.
Believing that she was backing away to give him room to collect his thoughts and take a fresh breath of air that wasn't laden with her intoxicating scent, he breathed out a huff of relief, until he caught the bleak look in her eyes. And it was at that moment that he realized that she was physically distancing herself because she was finally pulling away from him.
There had been many times where he had thought he had managed to push her away -where he thought he had extricated her from his life permanently- but he had never succeeded. He could never truly banish her from his life because she did not wish it, and he was too weak to remain strong enough to hold true to his conviction. But as she took another step away from him, the silence stretching between them, he knew that he was losing her, this time for good.
She looked at him as if she was going to say something, but changed her mind, giving him a quick nod. "Okay," she said, taking her helmet from the handlebars of her motorcycle and staring at it for a moment before her gaze lifted to his. "I'll leave," she offered, mounting the motorcycle and settling upon the seat.
Raphael stared at her in shock, surprised at her easy capitulation and the knowledge that she was actually going to leave him alone in his exile.
Dread consumed him, tightening his throat and suffocating him with its heavy grip.
Even though he knew he should rejoice in his victory –finally able to keep her safe and get her out of his life- he felt as if he was being crushed by a black wave of grief and devastation that he knew would eventually destroy him.
"I'll leave you to your self-imposed isolation, Raphael because I can't make you let me help you and I can't make you fight for yourself, for me or for us," her green eyes suddenly flashed with icy determination and iron will, "but only on one condition."
Raphael held his breath as he waited for her to speak again, to claim her pound of flesh from him, because whatever her condition was, he had no choice but to agree to it.
Swallowing roughly, his throat dry, his tongue like sandpaper across the roof of his mouth, he tried to speak, tried to give a flippant, sarcastic, half-assed remark, but found that he couldn't. He felt caught, like a mouse trapped within the clutches of a wily fox or a predatory cat playing with its prey, riveted to the spot, his life -his future- hanging upon the next words that Catherine was to speak.
Apparently sensing that he was not going to answer, her eyes boring into his own, she levelled her caveat upon him in a crisp clear cadence. "I will walk away if you can look me in the eyes and tell me that I don't mean anything to you and that at this moment, your heart isn't breaking and shattering into so many tiny fragments, that you can't believe that it still manages to beat in your chest." His heart constricted at her words, but he licked his lips to do just that; the lie poised like poison upon his tongue, ready to destroy any and all happiness he could ever hope to attain out of his miserable existence. But in the midst of attempting to put on a false bravado to cut her down and rip her heart from her chest as he had in the lair, she took a step towards him, speaking before he could.
In a voice edged with steel, her voice rang out like a command, "Tell me that you don't love me, Raphael, and mean it, and I will stop fighting," she finished, her voice wavering with emotion yet as strong and sharp as the finest blade.
His mouth snapped shut and he stared at her as he realized that she had never intended to give him a choice. She knew he could never do what she asked of him. He could growl, yell and lie through his teeth to her, but she would never believe him, because she was always able to tell when he lied, even when he did so straight to her face.
A heartbeat later, his voice rough with defeat and emotion, he wondered, "Why?" And realizing his question was not specific enough, he clarified. "Why me?" It was something that had plagued him since her admission that she love him the other night.
It was no mystery as to how she had managed to slip unwanted and unnoticed into his heart so long ago. He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since before he had even met her, but when he had, he found that she had the ability to strip him bare of all of his shields, walls and defences without him even being aware of it and in those moments, he was the truest version of himself. She had seen all of the dark ugliness that festered within the deepest regions of his broken soul and accepted it all. And for the first time in over four years, with her, he felt at peace.
But what he couldn't understand was: why she had chosen him, above all others? Of all of the people she had ever met, of all of his brothers –especially Leonardo- what made him so special? He could not see what it was that she saw in him that made her believe he was worthy of her and caused her fight so ferociously for him and to not give up on him, even when he had given up on himself.
Taking a step towards him, eyes softening she searched his gaze before answering, "I suppose I could say that I like that you can surprise me, that you make me laugh, and that I like the way you smile and look at me as if I am the most amazing creature you have ever met. Or maybe I could tell you that you are incredibly caring and kind and that I like the way your eyes darken with desire when I get near and that I look forward to our conversations because they are never boring. I could say the reason is because you accept me for who I am and even though you challenge me, you don't try to change me. I could tell you that you showed me that what I had always believed to be the very worst of myself -when I was with you- was somehow the very best of myself." She paused a moment, her words sinking in and causing his breath to catch and his heart to constrict even as disbelief coursed through him. "But the simplest truth would be that you are the only one who has ever made me feel," she finished softly, her voice tinged with something akin to awe coupled with a desperate, raw sort of agony.
"I was content living my life with emotions being something that happened to other people. I had always believed there was something deeply wrong with me, and I was okay with that, but then I met you and it was as if I had, up until that point, been living in a dream. Suddenly, the vibrancy of life, of emotion, of sensation was thrust upon me and my well ordered world was thrown into chaos," she insisted. "One tiny moment at a time, you broke down every barrier I had ever built to keep myself safe from ever letting anyone in, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore what I felt for you, to be content with what I had known before, I couldn't. My thoughts were filled with nothing but you. My heart ached and I felt restless when you were not around, and I hoped that the feeling would go away, but it didn't, and it terrified me that you meant so much to me." She paused for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts before she continued. "But when I had thought I might be too late -that I might lose you forever- any previous fear I had felt held nothing to the prospect of facing a life without you in it." Her eyes gazed at him, filled with so much honesty, that he could barely continue to look into those captivating green depths. "You are my world, Raphael, and I know this because when I am with you, I am home."
Raphael felt his legs give way beneath him and he fell to his hands and knees.
Tears stinging his eyes, he blinked them away. "You're fucking insane," he whispered, his voice not containing any heat or malice, but rather, just a statement of truth.
A peal of laughter filled the air and Raphael saw her boots enter into his line of vision, but he dared not look up at her.
She crouched down and he felt her fingers rest just beneath his chin, forcing him to look up into her eyes anyway. "I know," she answered with a chuckle. "But that's okay, because you like my kind of crazy," she quipped with a wide grin and he stared at her helplessly.
Her smile had trapped him, her laughter had brought him to his knees, her words struck the final blow, and now he had no choice...
He surrendered.
They had warred and battled and sometimes he would gain the upper hand, sometimes she would. But in the end, he had been fighting a losing battle, because he could never win against her.
She brushed her thumbs across his cheeks as her expression became serious. "I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that things are going to be easy and that everything will be okay. There will be good days and bad days; days when you believe that you will never be able to win against the terrors of what was done to you, but I will be here with you. I will fight for you when you feel as though you can't, and I will be here with you every step of the way." Her gaze pieced him through his heart, which trembled at her presence and her words, even as fear swept through him at the uncertain journey that stretched before him. "I love you, Raphael," she whispered softly as she leaned into him and he had no choice but to claim her lips in a searing kiss that left him trembling and panting for more.
Breaking away, he stared into her eyes, knowing he couldn't promise her anything; that he couldn't promise her that there weren't going to be days when he was going to rant and rail and snap at her and probably say things he could never take back, but he told her with his eyes that he was going to try. And this seemed to be good enough for her, because she brushed her thumbs against his cheeks again and placed a kiss upon his lips that was so gentle and feather-light that it was barely there, a whispered 'thank you,' exiting those honeysweet lips, and this coupled with the very brief, tempting brush of her mouth against his somehow inflamed the burning pool of lust that had been pent up and restrained for so long, that it overflowed its banks and filled him with heated desire.
Growling low, he plunged his fingers into the silk of her tresses, pulling her forward which unbalanced her, sending her falling into him, where he caught her and pulled her into a crushing embrace, his lips again finding hers.
His tongue darted out tentatively, scraping it across the entrance to her mouth, knowing that although he could not seek the proper amount of entrance, that he was going to try.
Her lips parted for him, her tongue scraping against his as their kiss deepened, becoming frantic, their breaths mixing together in a heated embrace that was fast becoming so much more.
Raphael's hands roamed across her heated flesh as he quickly divested her of the jacket and the t-shirt she wore.
He trailed hungry kisses down the gentle curve of her delicate throat, her heaving chest and white lace-covered breasts tempting his lips to move ever lower. Her back arched and the white lace that had obscured her breasts suddenly vanished as she threw the scrap of fabric away, claiming his mouth in a hungry kiss that sent fire burning through his veins, stretching him thin and pulling him taunt, his whole body vibrating with want and need.
Her hand was suddenly upon his cheek, her other twisted within the tails of his mask as he pulled her naked torso against his battered, t-shirt-covered plastron and she had no choice but to straddle him, his aching length pressing against the very center of her most intimate parts causing him to moan softly.
Fingers trailed down his neck and the back of his head, moving lower as her tongue slid across his own and he shuddered, letting out a groan as she pressed herself more fervently against him.
Sunk so deep within the depths of temptation and burning with the lust that was attempting to consume him from the inside out, he did not notice that Catherine's nimble fingers had been occupied. Slipping beneath his shirt, she quickly yanked the fabric up and he let her pull it from his body without a single thought until he remembered that this was not one of his dreams, the ones where his body was as it had been, undamaged and whole as opposed to the ruined mess it was now.
Heart hammering in fear, he broke away from their kiss staring at her, not wanting her to glimpse his body, but the only way he would be able to accomplish such a thing would be to dump her on the ground, scramble away, snatch up his shirt and use it like a shield, but it was too late. Her eyes were studying his plastron, what was left of it, and then he remembered that she had already seen the ruination.
Her eyes lifted and he sucked in a breath as she placed a hand upon his plastron, her fingers splayed over his heart, the most delicate and damaged part of his plastron, before she moved her hand so that her palm spanned the damaged keratin and the steel plate. He felt as if a blow had struck him and his heart was attempting to burst from his chest so that it could lie against the palm of her hand at what he saw in her eyes.
There was no disgust, pity or even regret, only heated desire that singed him with the intensity of her gaze and yet he still hesitated, a thousand thoughts and emotions bombarding him with conflicting thoughts and feeling; so many that he felt overwhelmed and almost panicked.
His eyes shifted around and he caught sight of the forest only yards away from where Catherine sat straddling him in the grass, and suddenly he was very cognizant of the fact that he had practically attacked her, like an animal in heat, unable to restrain himself enough to move somewhere that wasn't on the ground, out in the open, with the bright light of the sun shining down upon their half-naked forms.
He could not hide his very inhuman body from her and he was overwhelmed by nervous apprehension. He wished for nothing more than the concealing cloak of darkness to be draped over them, a soft mattress beneath them, a tangle of blankets to help him shield himself from her sight and perhaps allow her to close her eyes and believe that she was with a human male instead of a mutant turtle.
She had, however, made no attempt to halt his progress, his intent of apparently taking her right there upon the grass, seemingly not bothering her in any way, and he-
Catherine's breasts, nipples taunt with desire, brushed against his plastron, her hand snaking around his shoulders to drag him down with her as she kissed him with a fiery passion that inflamed his own while her other hand brushed across the crotch of his jeans and finding his painfully engorged length, stroked him.
All thoughts, worries and considerations were banished completely from his mind as he let out a strangled moan into her mouth; the feel of her hand, even through the fabric of his jeans, so intimate, so foreign, yet excruciatingly pleasurable, that he could only marvel at it.
Catherine's searching fingers vanished and for a moment he felt insecurity beat against him like the wings of a thousand butterflies, but a moment later, her deft fingers tore at the button of his jeans tearing them open.
He felt himself freeze, but Catherine only deepened their kiss, plundering his mouth, the sound of her panting breath filling his ears as she wiggled beneath him. He had no idea what the hell she was doing, but it was almost as if she was struggling beneath him.
Pulling away from her, she kicked something away with her feet and that was when he realized that she now lay beneath him completely naked.
The musky scent of her desire was no longer partially masked by her clothing and the primal need to claim the woman beneath him as his mate destroyed any and all doubts, apprehensions and any other thoughts that attempted to form into existence.
Letting out a growl, his lips kissed fiery trails across her inked skin, his tongue swirling and lathing taunt, hardened nipples as his hands dragged themselves down alabaster flesh that responded to his every touch, causing his body to shudder in need.
Numbly, in the back of his mind, he realized that he should be taking his time, worshipping her body, exploring every curve and facet of it, but the truth was he couldn't.
There was a reckless desperation to his movements as the primal beast within his mind took over his body currently drowning in want, need and possessive desire.
He rubbed his cheek across hers, marking her as his with his scent. His chest continued to rumble with a growl he could not seem to banish as he quickly pulled down the front of his underwear, releasing his hardened length before covering her body with his own, and pushing himself into the warm folds of her slick flesh.
In his fantasies, he had easily slid into her moist warm depths with no resistance, but dreams were not reality and he encountered the complication of a large object attempting to gain access into a space that was much too small to accommodate it.
Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth in agony, he bit back a cry of frustration at being denied the intimacy that his body, heart and soul craved. Though he was humanoid, he was not human enough to-
A strangled sound exited from between his lips as Catherine shifted beneath him, tilting her pelvis up while a lithe leg wrapped around the lower portion of his carapace, pulling him into her.
Teeth still clenched together, now in order to keep a cry of helpless pleasure from sounding, he dug his fingers into the soft grass, feeling as if he was holding on for dear life, because she was, at this very moment, unmaking him, one tiny, blissful inch at a time.
He felt the tight walls that had initially denied him entrance slowly mold around him, stretching to accommodate his girth until he was sheathed completely within her.
Shaking and panting with what felt like delirious exertion, he forced himself not to move, no matter how much he wished to. He was terrified that if he did he was going to hurt her, while at the same time, fearing that he was going to disgrace himself before anything had even begun.
Sheathed as he was within her slick, warm confines, tiny waves of molten pleasure were burning through his veins and he felt that if he moved, even the slightest bit, that he was not going to be able to stop from climaxing right there and then.
"Look at me," Catherine softly commanded, and Raphael opened his eyes, finally looking at her.
Obsidian locks streaked with crimson were fanned out upon the green turf, her gaze half- lidded, eyes so dark, they looked black.
With her nails digging into his shoulders, he stared down at the woman beneath him -the woman he loved- and drank in the sight of her bared flesh.
Her body was so small and delicate, even by human standards, and he had already brought her too much pain. He couldn't inflict anymore upon her, especially because of his selfish desire to claim her body with his own.
"I'm going to hurt you," he whispered in agony, positive that he was going to break her.
"You could," she acknowledged calmly, "but you won't," she promised as she loosened her grip upon his shoulders and placed her hand upon his cheek, bringing him down so that she could claim his lips in a hungry kiss.
Distracted for the moment, feeling the soft feel of her cupid's bow lips upon his own, he felt himself slowly rock his hips without thought and she sucked in a quick breath.
Pulling away he looked at her, searching her eyes, frightened that he had injured her.
"It's okay," she insisted as she rocked her hips, he too nervous to move, but feeling his eyes slide shut and his teeth grind together as a soft, sweet tingling of pleasure swept through his body, causing him to let out a soft noise of bliss.
"Raphael," she moaned softly and he found his eyes opening so that he could stare into her eyes, filled with love, lust, want and need.
Pulling his hand from where his fingers had dug furrows into the soil, he placed it upon her hip adjusting her slightly, acting on instinct alone as he slowly pulled from her, before gently pushing himself back in.
Catherine's body arched beneath him, but still she kept eye contact with him, her gaze holding absolute trust and reassurance, and that faith in him nearly broke him.
He, who had been responsible for causing her so much pain, injury and grief, to be looked upon with the unequivocal certainty that she held in her eyes, humbled him so completely, that he felt his throat tighten and his eyes grow misty.
"Please, Raphael," she begged, not realizing he had ceased his movements within her, lovingly committing her tender expression to memory.
"I love you," he whispered, and at that moment, he swore to himself that he would never make her regret fighting for him, for staking her happiness upon him and for entrusting her heart into his, rough, calloused and clumsy hands.
His movements were slow, tentative at first, still cautious and so very careful, but her body willingly adjusted to him and he found himself thrusting within her, harder and deeper. But as his fingers tightened upon her hip and dug further into the soil, he realized that he was not going to last more than a few moments.
Physically being with a woman was a fantasy that he had never believed he would be able to attain -being the mutated creature that he was. But he recognized their coupling as so much more than just something purely sexual. The woman whose gaze he held, whose exhalations were in time with his own and whose soft moans of pleasure only spurred him on, was the woman he loved more than any other being in the world.
For some reason, Fate had decided to bestow upon him this rare gift, and he greedily took it.
All thought was swiftly wiped from his mind as he suddenly felt his whole body tense as his orgasm roared through him. He cried out her name as wave after wave of sublime ecstasy tore through him, shattering his consciousness into tiny fragments of sensation which shook him down to his very core. At that same moment her body arched below him, her muscles tightening around him, squeezing him and drinking up the warm seed he had thrust deep within her.
He stared at her, watching the intensity of her orgasm roll across her features; pleasure coupled with blissful contentment as she whispered his name with something akin to awe.
Tiny aftershocks washed over her body causing her muscles to contract, squeezing his shaft tightly, sending small tendrils of curling pleasure pooling within his loins.
He had been going soft, his body drunk and tingling with the faint echo of his orgasm and shaking with physical exertion and weakness caused by his stubborn refusal to accept help and by his apparently recent convalescence, but at this physical response from her body, his own responded in turn.
Closing his eyes he growled low in his chest, unsheathing himself and taking a steadying breath as he tucked himself back into his pants and did up his jeans before he opened his eyes, dragged Catherine into his arms and lifted her up off the ground.
She gave a tiny squeal at this sudden movement, but he was consumed with a single-minded intent to continue their carnal activities in a more comfortable location.
Striding as quickly as he was able, and ignoring her protest concerning her scattered clothing and supplies she had bought, he strode through the open cabin door, kicking it closed behind him before taking the steps two at a time to the second level.
Walking with determined steps towards the bedroom he had awoken in, he entered the room and gently lowered Catherine down upon the bed.
She watched him cautiously as he kicked off his boots and his hands went for the button on his pants.
Her hooded eyes watched him with a wary intensity, and he had no doubt that the look in her eyes was due to the perceived shift in his mood; gentle, tender, awkward, hesitancy changing to possessive, predatory hunger.
Hands still hovering over his jeans, he undid the button and slowly pulled open the fly. He was watching her carefully, knowing that he wouldn't be able to take the rejection if she recoiled in disgust, but accepting that she should know the entirety of the creature who she had allowed entrance into her body, no matter how much the prospect terrified him.
At this movement, her gaze sharpened, and though there was a hint of curiosity in the look that she gave him, it was the sudden and unrestrained lust that darkened her green eyes turning them nearly black, and the heavy scent of her musky desire pooling between her legs becoming thick in the air, that gave him the courage to continue.
His jeans and underwear pooled on the floor in one quick motion and she didn't even blink when confronted by the fact that he was not quite human, not quite turtle, but definitely all male.
Stalking towards the bed, he nearly pounced on her, pushing her roughly down onto the soft surface, lying between her splayed legs, and claiming her soft lips in a hungry, proprietary kiss that sent fiery desire streaming through his veins.
Mine, he thought as he thrust into her, his entrance this time much easier than it had been before. He cupped her cheek with his hand, pressing his forehead against hers as he plunged himself into her with abandon, there being nothing gentle, loving or restrained in the way he was taking her body with his own.
Aware that her body was more than willing to accommodate him, her entrance slick with the juices of her orgasm and desire mixed with his own, and knowing that she would make him aware if he was hurting her, he let go. He gave into the untamed beast that roared within him take his mate with hard, quick strokes that had her writhing and bucking beneath him.
"Mine," he thought again, though this time, he apparently said the sentiment aloud; his voice more a feral growl than speech.
He found the muscle between her shoulder and neck, her pulse pounding in her throat beneath his lips and he gave into the primal instinct to bite down with enough force to puncture skin. He marked her permanently as his own just as his orgasm rode him hard, leaving him shaking and breathless as he panted with the effort he had expelled, nearly collapsing on top of her.
With the faint hint of copper sitting upon his tongue, his eyes flashed open, attempting to rear back in horror at what he had done.
Before he was able to move, Catherine grabbed the tails of his mask, holding him in place as he stared in dismay at the teeth marks cut into her alabaster skin; already covered in too many scars caused by him.
She gently brushed her lips across his. "Don't worry," she murmured, "I paid you back in turn."
Eyes leaving hers to quickly ascertain what she was referring to, he saw little half moon marks where she had dug her nails into his shoulders, breaking the skin in places. He knew that the small marks in his skin were no recompense for what he had done, but he felt himself relaxing at the look of mirthful understanding that was dancing in her eyes, as if she found the situation more humorous than terrifying.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, tracing the scar he had given her as he studied her contented and loving features, before thoughts of his brother entered his mind, because he knew that he had just taken something infinitely precious, that hadn't been his to take.
It didn't matter that Catherine loved him, and he loved her in return, because it didn't change the fact that Catherine had been his brother's girlfriend, and that Raphael had done what he swore he wouldn't: take her from him.
Catherine had talked of moments -instances of time- when he had unintentionally stolen tiny pieces of her heart, and he wondered if it had been Leonardo who had pushed her up against the wall of the lair and kissed her breathless instead of himself, would her heart have remained secure with his brother?
"You can't steal something that does not want to be stolen, Raphael," Catherine observed softly and he wondered if he had spoken his inner thoughts out loud or if she could read him so well as to divine his inner thoughts.
"That supposed to make me feel better?" he growled defensively.
Catherine remained silent, not deigning to give a response. Letting out a huff of air through his nostrils, he shifted his gaze away, knowing that the words she had spoken regarding the theft of her heart sounded familiar, though he couldn't place them. Pushing this thought aside he felt his shoulders loosen as he brought his fingers down and began tracing the lines of the tattoo that had been inked just under her breasts.
"Leo loves you," he stated bluntly, feeling a deep well of guilt form within him.
Catherine let out a breath and reached out, tugged at one of his ties, causing him to look at her.
"I wrote in my letter to him, that he was in love with the idea of me; that he had fallen in love with the Fairy Queen, that delicate, helpless creature that was reliant upon everyone in her court for everything. But I am not the Fairy Queen. I can't be her for him," she insisted. "But I suppose that does not detract from the very real fact that you are right." Her voice became serious as he felt himself tense. "It doesn't matter that I know we would never work and that although I love him, I am not in love with him, because it doesn't make his feelings any less true or real," she stated. "Looking back on it, my words were condescending and ignorant and I can only hope that Donatello did not allow Leonardo to read the letter I left. I didn't want to hurt him. I only wanted to explain to him that although we made sense together, we were not good together."
He digested this for a moment. "And you think we will be?" he wondered instead of pursuing the earlier topic of his brother and his love of the woman Raphael was still sheathed within.
Catherine gave him a heated look. "I'm willing to find out," she answered in a low seductive voice.
A thought struck him then; one which shook him to his very core, and sent shivers of unease cascading across his skin.
He knew could never forgive himself for stealing Leonardo's girlfriend and he accepted the accompanying guilt he felt as well as the knowledge that his betrayal would result in Leonardo despising him for his actions. But the sudden worry that Catherine had been his brother's lover was a reality he was unsure he would be able to handle.
Searching her eyes, his tone serious yet hesitant, he wondered, "Did you and my brother… Did you and Leo ever…?" He let the question hang in the air as Catherine lifted an inquiring eyebrow at him.
"Are asking me if Leonardo… What were your words to me?" she paused in thought, "Oh yes, I remember, '…uptight, stuffy, boring, repressed Leo' actually initiated any sort of physically intimacy with me?" she inquired archly.
Gritting his teeth in irritation, he glared down at her. "That ain't an answer."
"I am pretty sure it is," she replied teasingly.
He narrowed his eyes in anger.
Tugging on the tail of his mask that she still held in her hand, she dragged him forward so that her nose and his beak were almost touching. "No," she answered simply. "We only ever kissed and by our third kiss, I had already kissed you just as many times." She pulled him a little closer, her lips almost touching his. "And that third kiss -the one where Leonardo admitted to me that he loved me, I realized…I was wishing that he was you."
With this declaration, she pulled him forward, devouring his mouth in a hungry kiss that wiped all thoughts of his brother and his guilty conscience completely from his mind.
I hope the chapter was worth the wait XD
