This scene occurs during 'Petals on the Wind,' after Cathy has met Julian and stayed out late with him. She comes home to an upset and worried

Christopher, who confronts her in her bedroom while she's changing.

His mouth was near to mine, so near. For a moment we hesitated, lingering, and then we were kissing, both drawn to each other. Christopher had been so upset when he'd shown up at my door, when he'd chastised me for being out late with Julian—when'd accused me of giving myself to just anyone—but now, here we were, melting into each other. Driven by passion. I couldn't stop kissing him, and he couldn't get enough of my mouth.

My hands were roaming, pushing his shirt off as he pulled me closer and his hands feasted over my curves, our movements urgent and frenzied.

When his mouth went to my neck, beginning to kiss me, my head fell back and my breath came hot. His hands were all over, pressing, touching. His words from earlier kept floating back to me, inflaming. When I felt what it was like to touch you, he had said, about our first time in the attic together. He'd said it as if he couldn't live without it.

Christopher pulled me closer to his body, lifting me as we kissed to put me on the bed. His body was so close to mine. I could feel him, between my legs, noticeably hard despite his jeans. Our kisses were passionate, thirsty. For one brief, tantalizing moment, he stopped, and looked into my eyes, reading me.

'Are you sure?' His voice was husky, breaking, but his look was intense.

I needed him. We had to do this. I wasn't about to back out.

'Yes,' I gasped, and then he was undoing his pants, his other hand slipping up the inside of my thigh past my nightgown to touch me and raise the fabric simultaneously. In another moment, he was there, against me, and my hand on his shoulder tightened as he pushed into me deliciously, and I moaned.

Christopher's head fell against my shoulder as he pressed himself in deep. I could tell he was in just as much ecstasy as I was. It was something we'd tried for so long to avoid, to not do—but it felt so blissfully right. He felt so good inside me. For a moment we locked eyes, and needed not say anything—all the love, the relief, the rightness, was there, and then he leant in to kiss me again.

His hands were moving again, to cup and caress my breasts through my nightgown, which I now wish I had taken off.

We were urgent, but didn't rush it. I could tell Christopher was holding himself back as he moved into me. The truth was, neither of us knew when—or if—this was ever going to happen again, so we had to savour it.

'Christopher,' I moaned into his ear, making his breath come harder. 'Oh, god Cathy, I love you,' he shuddered into my hair, kissing my neck. One of my breasts was exposed now, and he was touching my nipple, occasionally leaning over to kiss it.

I felt myself tighten around him, and he slipped his tongue into my mouth to kiss me tenderly as I began to have my orgasm. I could tell he was enjoying it, feeling me cum around him, and then he was moving into me faster, kissing me harder, and I knew he was close.

I put my hand into his hair, bringing his head over so I could kiss behind his ear and whisper, 'I love you, Christopher Doll,' right into it. It brought him to the edge, and he crushed my mouth in one last kiss, pushing himself in deep, a moan in the back of his throat.

After, we lay together. His body was warm against mine, and my head was on his chest. I felt safe and loved in the most complete way. For a while, I allowed myself to forget, and fall asleep in his arms.

Later, sometime late in the night, we woke and did it again. I climbed on top of him before he was fully awake and had him inside me. The look in his eyes—of love, worship, lust, adoration—made the ride the best in my memory. His hands kept at my hips, or at my hands—at one point he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. We did not speak, not until the end. Instead, we only looked at each other, deep into one another's eyes, and kissed a few times, gently, passionately.

When it was done, I pressed myself close to him. Christopher seemed perfectly content with the world, but I was beginning to realize the consequences of our actions.

'I wish we could stay like this forever,' Christopher said, his hand rubbing my back affectionately.

When he heard me sniff, he looked up, concerned.

'Cathy, what's wrong?'

'I can't stay here,' I said, beginning to cry. 'I've got to go. We need lives apart from each other.'

'What? Cathy, don't go,' he begged me, but I got up anyway and left him. It's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.