“Anyway,” he hooked his thumbs into his jeans and slid them down his thighs. “I’m going to ask you to stay tomorrow. And I’m giving you a head’s up on that because I want you to really think about it.”

He was hard already, a spectacular specimen in the soft glow of Christmas lights.

He crawled up the foot of the bed toward her. Cat felt her breath catch in her throat at the beautiful man who loved her, covering her body with his. He pressed her into the mattress with his weight.

“Tonight, I’m either going to convince you to stay or give you a memory that will stay with you forever.”

“And ruin me for other men,” Cat guessed.

“That too,” Noah said, cupping her chin in his hand.

“I love you, Catalina King. I didn’t mean to, and I’m not sure how it happened. But I’d be a fool if I just let you walk away.”

His mouth finally shut the hell up and got to work brushing soft kisses over her mouth, her nose, her eyelids. Together, they wrestled her shirt free and then her pants. He stroked her, every inch of her massaged, oiled body, igniting wants so terrifying that Cat wished she could forget them.

Her bra seemed to disintegrate, her underwear evaporated, and then it was just skin against skin. He kissed her from forehead to toes and back again, unhurried despite her begging him for more, despite how his hard-on throbbed against her. He tickled and teased her with his tongue, stroking between those slick lips at the apex of her thighs until she trembled over the edge into a breathtakingly beautiful orgasm. It was like having the sun rise in her body, bit by bit, flooding her with light.

When she moved to take control, to touch him back, Noah cuffed her hands over her head. “Just take.”

It was an order she’d obey this time. Every cell in her body tingled, primed for more pleasure.

He settled himself between her legs, lazily rolling on a condom, pausing to lap at both breasts until she was writhing again. Helpless, vulnerable, deprived, she opened for him, tempting him with rolls of her hips.

When she felt like she’d die if he didn’t slide home into her body, she begged him tearfully to fill her. And he did. One languorous push, and he was sheathed inside her. Whole. Full. Joined. Her body recognized his as part of itself.

And the glow began to build all over again.

Slowly, languidly he circled his hips. This wasn’t the fast, reckless sex she’d preferred in a past life. This was love in physical form. Worshipping each other. Carrying each other to an unexplored heaven.