My heart skipped two beats as my breathing stopped. Jean-Paul was not an active member, therefore not in good-standing, and he wouldn’t change that. My teeth clenched together to hide the emotions I didn’t want to show on my face. I swallowed hard and pretended that the situation was different. My face showed a smile while my heart nearly broke. “Then you support me Father?”
“I love you for your courage and for being who you are. What you have said has not made me happy. However, you have made up your mind. This old man is wise enough to know he cannot sway you from your stance, or love, or whatever is holding you firm.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“Did I help you daughter?”
“Oh you helped far more than you know. Would it be permissible for Jean-Paul to ask for my hand in marriage?”
“Oui, after he has the blessing from God’s Church.”
It was apparent that my father was not going to relent on the church issue. My hands began to shake so I stuffed them into my pockets. My eyes widened and my lips pressed firmly together. With all of the fortitude I could muster I responded, “Of course, Father. As you wish.”
After my walk with my father, my spirits were laden with worry. The depression and fear of the past few weeks was still with me, now with new concerns. How will I share this news with Jean-Paul? Perhaps he might love me enough to reconsider his position with the Church. I didn’t want to manipulate him. He had to love me and make his own choice if I were to have true love. If it were not his decision, then I didn’t want him.
If only he would change his view of the Church, he could propose before Andre left to return to law school and the matter could be finalized while Andre was in Paris.
After sending a letter out, I waited at the park each day at noon. Andre asked me several times why I insisted on taking Lou Lou to the park alone each day. He begged that he might join me and I explained that it would not make me happy.
Three days after I sent the letter, Jean-Paul met me at the park. “Did you receive my letter?”
“What letter?”
“I sent you a letter. How did you know to come here?”
“Because my dear, the last time we spoke you asked me to meet you in three days’ time. I recalled your request and I’m here.”
“Oh yes. Please forgive me. Thank you for remembering.”
“Have you spoken with your father?”
“Oui. My father delighted and surprised me. He said that I may get out of my commitment by making a new one.”
“What new commitment must you make?”
“A commitment of marriage.” Jean-Paul looked at me without understanding my meaning. I explained further, feeling a little embarrassed that I must tell the man I desire to ask for my hand. “If I’m engaged to another man, the first agreement will be broken. Of course it looks unpleasant to others, but that’s of no consequence to me because I value happiness over status.”
“So your Father suggested that you become engaged?”
“Oui.”
“So I may ask him for your hand in marriage?”
“Oui, after we receive a blessing from the Church.”
“The Catholic Church? Are you serious?”
“Oui.”
“Cherie, the priest of our congregation considers me a fallen soul. He knows my objection to the ways of the Church. It is not likely that he will give a blessing to our union.”
Jean-Paul and I sat quietly on the cold, stone bench. “Tell the priest that you have had a vision and a change of heart. Could you not convince him that you’re a reformed, obedient member of the congregation?”
“You mean be untruthful to what I believe? It’s one thing to tell a lie to a man that you do not respect who stands between you and your desires for a woman. It’s another thing to turn against your own values and principles.”
“You would not actually be abandoning what you believe, non?”
“Non, not abandoning what I believed, but I would be a hypocrite, like them; saying one thing with my lips while doing and believing something else. Playing their game will cost me my integrity. Then I’m acquiring you, but not worthy of you. There’s no greater disappointment.”
“Jean-Paul, if you love me you will compromise to be with me. If you believe in love you will do what it takes to have it.”
“I must be true to myself before I can be true to you.”
Light-headedness and nausea overcame me. I felt that I might fall off the bench.
“Jean-Paul? Hold me. There’s too much heaviness,” I said not knowing what I should do. Jean-Paul helped support my head on his shoulder as I leaned my body against his. “Jean-Paul, I need to rest. I am afraid. This stress is overwhelming. I need some privacy and reprieve from trying to satisfy everyone at once. I need to be in your arms.”
“Cherie…” he said with such love and tenderness.
“Please, Jean-Paul. I might die without being in your arms. I’m most sincere.”
“Very well, my cherished. We must be careful however. If others see us…”
“I don’t care! My life is too vulnerable to the eyes of others. I must live my life as I please. They may all die.”
Jean-Paul seemed to detect how distraught I felt. He gently put his arms over my shoulders and led me away from the park without a word. We walked unconcerned if others saw his touch upon me. Jean-Paul held me closely, making me feel loved. I knew right then that he put my welfare above the opinions and rules of society, so my heart let go and committed to Jean-Paul. Someone besides my father put my needs above anything else, which caused me to forever belong to him. My voice failed me, yet I wanted to say that my love could not be held by another as long as he existed. It felt as if something inside of Jean-Paul changed as well, as he led me away. Possibly I imagined the difference, yet it seemed to me that he claimed me in that moment, deciding that he was responsible for my wellbeing.
He held a key to the door and turned the lock and the door handle. He pushed the large door forward and waited for me to enter the flat. Crossing the threshold, I felt that I might collapse from the emotional burden. My head dropped, my eyes closed and my body immediately began to sink to the floor. Jean-Paul rushed forward, grabbing me under both arms to lend support. I managed to toss my head forward against his firm chest, but my legs would not support my full weight. Jean-Paul scooped me into his arms and brought me to the bedroom. He laid me down gently, and then pulled a soft comforter over my supine form.
“Rest here my sweet. I shall be in the next room.”
“Non! Please stay. I’m scared. Don’t leave me alone.”
“As you wish.” Jean-Paul climbed onto the bed beside me and lay close. I wiggled in next to him and placed my head on his left shoulder, closing my eyes and finding comfort in his loving touch. He wrapped his left arm around me. With his right hand he gently stroked my hair, running his fingers through my bangs and caressed my cheek…easing me into a deep rest. As sleep overcame me, I felt a sublime contentedness. I couldn’t know at that moment the future pain I would endure from knowing such bliss.
***
Chapter Five: New Explosions
Paris, Late March, 1899
“Cherie? Cherie? Wake up my darling. Cherie?”
A satisfying sigh released from my body. Stretching, I noticed my left arm wrapped over Jean-Paul’s chest as he gently wiggled my shoulder. “Mmmmm.”
“Hello darling. Did you enjoy your afternoon nap? It’s time for you to rise. You’re expected at home. We must get you back.”
Leaning on my right shoulder, I turned to face Jean-Paul and looked into his eyes. “Jean-Paul, I’m happiest here with you.”
“I enjoy being here with you. I would like to enjoy this every day of my life.” He looked deeply into my eyes with a kind and genuine smile.
“I would like that as well,” I said begging him with my eyes to kiss me. He stared at me intensely.
Silently he watched my eyes. He touched my cheek with the bac
k of his fingers, then he placed his palm behind my head, under my hair. I sensed it would happen before he moved. His face softened. His lips parted. I waited. I wanted. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine as his hand supported my head. Without a thought, our bodies turned towards each other. My heart beat alongside his. His chest pressed against mine. The pleasure overtook me completely. Embracing the moment, I surrendered, without a thought outside of my connection with Jean-Paul. All that I was aware of in that moment was wrapped in the space that our two bodies occupied. Everything that I felt came from the touch of his lips and the warmth of his body.
The scent of him surrounded me, relaxing every muscle. At the same time I pulsed with the desire to get closer to him. An overwhelming feeling made me want to crawl inside of him, be engulfed in his strength, his touch, his heat, his taste and his affection. His shirt was keeping me from feeling his skin with my hand. His shirt opened and I slid my palm across his firm back and then the side of his body from ribs to hip. Jean-Paul lifted himself on top of me, placing his hips above mine. Another sigh released. Gratitude spread through. I desired this closeness above anything else. His heart pounded his lips moved from my mouth to my cheek, down my neck, to my collar bone. Jean-Paul pulled at my lapel, exposing my shoulder and drenching it with warm kisses.
My head naturally turned to expose the area and give him access. His kisses fell like large drops of rain onto the thirsty soil of my skin. My blouse limited his direct contact. He seemed to want more places to taste and caress with his lips. Gently he unbuttoned the top button of my blouse. Waves of excitement pushed through my body. He pulled my blouse off my shoulder, exposing more area to be devoured with lips and tongue. The kisses pleased my whole body. Desiring more, I moaned with pleasure and sighed.
Jean-Paul’s lips found mine again. His passion intensified, pressing hard against my mouth, clasping his hands in mine, interlocking our fingers and stretching my arms above my head. His hip then pressed forward against mine. My body responded by pressing back and squeezing his hands with mine. My head tilted back, as I felt my hips open to receive him.
Suddenly, Jean-Paul stopped. He withdrew his lips and pulled his chest from mine. Looking into my confused eyes he said, “I’m quite sorry Cherie. Rest assured, I meant you no disrespect. My intention was only to kiss you before returning you to your home. It was not my intention to be swept away in the moment. Please forgive me.”
“Jean-Paul, forgiveness is not possible, unless…unless…”
“Unless what my dear? Please tell.”
“Unless you finish ravishing me, I shall never forgive you. If you stop now and leave me in this state of desiring you above air and water, I shall not forget it. Do not return me to the doom that I’m to face at home, without the satisfaction of knowing that I’m completely irresistible to you. Otherwise I shall hold the rejection against you.”
“Are you certain that this is what you want?”
“Oui, most certain.” I assured him.
“Your happiness I desire above my own,” Jean-Paul answered.
“Then take me. Allow me to surrender my body and will to your desires. Nothing shall bring me more joy.”
Jean-Paul stared long and deep into my eyes. His next kiss fell with certainty and determination. He took control of our movements. His hips began to move in a slow rhythm. He kissed my ears, cheeks and neck, then moved down to my chest. He unbuttoned my blouse to the waist and removed it gently. He kissed the top of my breasts, which protruded from beneath my corset. His lips returned to mine with purpose and focus.
He rolled me onto my side and unhooked my corset without looking. He lifted it from me and pulled it back to view my breasts. He looked at me and I felt beautiful. Jean-Paul brought his hands to my breasts and held them, squeezing and molding them into the shape of his grasp. His eyes watched as my nipples protruded between his fingers.
His gaze found mine. He looked to see my pleasure and approval. Smiling, I closed my eyes in satisfaction. He looked again at his hands massaging the softest place on my body. Slowly he lowered his mouth to my right breast. His tongue outlined my nipple before his lips closed in, enveloping the areola and sending fast rolling waves of tingling delight rippling from nipple to loins. The physical pleasure of his lips far exceeded any gratification I’d ever known. Each lick was euphoric, bursting with bliss and a desire for more.
Instinctively I lifted his shirt, pulling it up over his head and sending it flying across the room. The skin of his chest and stomach met mine. His warm skin against me gave me as much pleasure as his kisses.
My labia tingled with rapid sparks darting about. An insatiable hunger for his complete acceptance of my body gnawed at me. My hips thrust in rhythm with his while my hands pressed against his buttocks, pushing him closer, desiring more. I pulled at his trousers, indicating that I wanted them removed. Jean-Paul must have had the same thought, for he immediately removed my skirt and his trousers with ease. Undergarments shed quickly and we were skin to skin, bare against one another, exposed, vulnerable. Submitting fully, I silently begged for him to penetrate me as deeply and completely as possible.
Jean-Paul kissed me meaningfully, then he pulled back to see my eyes. He read my face; he saw my wanting and my approval of it. He kissed me again and allowed himself to penetrate my virgin labia. My back arched. My womb opened and received my lover, my love, my friend. Jean-Paul’s hand held my buttocks and lifted my hips closer to his. Many wonderful sensations attacked me at once. Pleasure spread everywhere; my lips, breasts, loins, and buttocks. His hands caressed my ribs, hips and curves in such a way that it was obvious he enjoyed my body; which made me feel more beautiful.
His thrusts sent shooting euphoria rushing through me. I couldn’t imagine missing this or being anywhere else. All of the excitement made me want more; never to stop. Muscles contracted beyond my control. Moans escaped my lips without restraint. My hands tightened and my fingers pulled aggressively at the skin on Jean-Paul’s back. His thrusts became more rapid and firm. He grabbed my hands once again. Our fingers intertwined as he pinned my arms against the bed. He pressed himself deeper and deeper inside of me. My mind and body opened to the penetration, allowing him to fully probe my womb, my soul, my appetite. I hungered for all of it. My muscles tightened around Jean-Paul, holding him inside of me. The intensity climbed, higher and higher. My body wanted to explode from the force of it. Then something inside of me did explode, like a finale of fireworks. Jean-Paul’s muscles tightened, along with mine. A magical air encircled us, wrapping us together into one. We bonded, as if knowing this shared bliss could never be taken away. Then, we both let go and slumped into a relaxed heap of bare skin and tossed limbs.
Jean-Paul lay motionless on top of me, holding me, hugging me. The moment couldn’t be more perfect. Soft, gentle moans escaped from each of us. We laid still, recovering, resting in the bliss of it.
I could have stayed wet and naked beside him forever, never moving, and my life would have been complete. Alas, knowing he would send me home, I prepared my mind for the prying away. I didn’t move a single muscle, as if holding still would preserve the enchanted embrace. The inevitable did come. His words melted my doubt and fears. “My heart belongs to you forever ma Cherie. It’s with great pain that I give you back to your family and let you out of my arms until I may hold you again. Your scent shall satisfy my hunger and your beautiful nakedness shall never leave my mind.”
Every muscle in my face created a big smile. No words could improve upon what he’d said. I kissed his cheek and hugged him tightly. Then I stood, smiling, fully naked before him, and dressed while he watched me. I wanted him to remember my skin and my breasts and desire to find a way for us to be together.
"You’re truly beautiful my love."
"Mmmm," I murmured.
“Before we go darling, this is a most appropriate time to give you your gift."
"You have a gift for me?" I asked.
“Oui, it’
s a birthday gift, but I wanted to give it to you before your birthday dinner with your family. After making love to you, it feels like the perfect time to share the meaning of this present.”
“Wonderful, let me see it!” I said, bouncing up and down.
Jean-Paul took my hand and led me from the bedroom into the dining room. Across the room, against the wall was a large object, covered with a sheet. Immediately I realized that it was probably a painting. My heart jumped and tightened while my breathing quickened. I did not own any significant art. There’s no art that I would rather own than Jean-Paul’s. That he would think to give me such a special gift thrilled me.
“Close your eyes,” Jean-Paul instructed.
I obeyed. Jean-Paul let go of my hand and walked across the room to the covered object. He removed the cover and held the object above the dining room table. “You may open your eyes my love.”
Before me was a painting of an incredible sunrise, surreal and magnificent. “Oh…Jean-Paul….oh my…oh my!! Amazing. This is for me?”
“It’s exactly for you, and no one else. I wish no one else would ever see this piece.”
“Oh Jean-Paul, I love it! Thank you. It’s lovely.”
“Look closely my sweet. Do you recognize it?”
My eyes studied the painting. It did look familiar. “We shared that sunrise.”
“Yes, we did. Do you remember when?”
“Yes,” I said smiling. Of course he would paint our first magical sunrise.
“How did you paint it so precisely?” I asked. “It has been months since we saw that sky.”
“The morning and evening sky had become my study for months, in an effort to see the colors and patterns I remembered from that morning. The sky that dawn made a lasting impression. But it took months to paint what I remembered because I needed to see portions of the patterns and some of the colors again. My sweet, it’s amazing how different the sky can be from day to day. There are many different colors and the lighting is never quite the same.”
Painted with Love: Romance Eludes Time and Death Page 8