Disclaimer: I don't own.

A/N: ...Yeah, you've all been waiting for this.

Lol, I didn't mean to leave the previous night vague--I think Sara, in chapter 47, says something about how he'd touched her, but she hadn't let him take off her pants, implying that they'd fooled around and he'd made her feel good, if not come (could be either?), over the pants. ...Hope this clears that up, toothchick. :)

Also, LittleSpooky, thanks for the advice on the links. I had thought I'd done it, and then realized I never changed them... so I had to go back and fix them, but I appreciated the help.

Chapter Forty Eight:

I couldn't stop them this time—the tears came and came and wouldn't stop and I was biting my bottom lip trying to stop them, hands clutching the sweat-dampened fabric at his shoulders. "No!" I sobbed, the honesty burning me, bringing all that guilt up to the surface. "…No. I… I wanted you. I… No, I would have… I wanted you." The sob slipped from my lips on the end of the last word and I felt so weak… in mind, in body, in spirit. I let him draw me into his arms, rock me gently, hold me close to his chest.

Juan returned, but waited for me to calm before approaching us and suggesting we get going… when we got back to Tambor Bay, he had missed his next tour. Gil insisted that he pay him the money he'd missed out on, waiting for us to have our moment, and tipped the man as well. He had been so kind. He shook hands with Gil, thanking him profusely, saying something to the effect of how much a blessing he was, 'the American bug-lover in the silly hat.'

I laughed, the first feeling other than complete disbelief mixed with a drained sense of uncertainty that I had felt since the waterfall. Juan hugged me, told me he hoped I was feeling better, calling me 'Senora Gree-som.' …God, I liked the sound of that.

Gil guided me gently back on board, slowly because I felt like the life had simply been sapped from my very bones, and we moved down to my room without conversation. As soon as the door closed, I had hugged him, just trying to gain strength from him… from his broad-shouldered, soft-smiled, ocean-eyed goodness and warmth. He pulled back from me, taking my eyes with his and the breath from my throat to boot. "…I love you, Sara."

His voice was gentle, coaxing, soft… it coated me in a feeling of certainty, lifted me up, filled me up. The life slipped back through me, seeping into my extremities, making me feel again—and oh, the things I felt. I felt the tears on my face, but I did not wipe them away again… and they did not hinder my ability to speak. "…I love you too. I know I shouldn't, but I do."

He kissed me, and though it caused a similar reaction between my thighs as the other times he'd kissed me… this also sent a shudder of rightness through me. It was so very much like the first kiss we'd ever shared… it was sweet and slow and left me week in the knees and before I could think of anything else, I had wrapped my arms around him, wrapping my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, and we were moving back towards the bed.

He bent me down gently, laying me on the bed, slipping me out of the shirt that I was sweating in. I thought briefly that we ought to shower before we did this, hoping that my deodorant was still working, but he had no such thoughts. He laid kisses from my jaw to bellybutton and back, unsnapping my bra and taking each of my breasts in his mouth like he was a starving man and I was the only thing that could sustain him.

I groaned at the waves he was sending through me, reaching for his shirt and feeling him gently bat my hands away. "Oh…" I moaned, my only way to voice my protest that he was not letting me touch him. God, I wanted to touch him. My shorts slid down my legs and off my feet, followed by shoes and socks that I had not had time to remove, and then his broad hands, palms soft and fingers calloused, slid back up them. I felt my body arching up to him unconsciously, my fingers gripping into the bed sheets, anticipation the very air I was breathing.

He kissed and nipped up my thighs, slowly pushing my legs further apart, a gentle hand falling on my stomach and pushing me down gently, back to the bed. He blew hot air over me and I shivered… cold and I gasped. His mouth was so close to me, less than an inch, each breath a taunt. I curled my toes, waiting, feeling myself getting wetter and wetter despite the fact that he had done nothing so far.

I did not expect the deep, guttural sound that broke its way from my throat when his tongue flicked over me, causing me to buck up against him, needing him to touch me the way I needed water. I was panting, shaking, eyelids fluttering… and then he moved closer, catching my clitoris between his lips and sucking hard, sending me arching off the bed again, this time a high-pitched keening sound sliding from my mouth. I felt him smile against me and his fingers slip inside.

I tightened around them instantly, my body desperate for him, my back permanently stretched into an arc, unable to get enough of him. He started moving, his mouth not touching me now, his breath becoming the ever-present tease again as I moved against his hand, thinking that the only thing that could be better would be to have him inside me. God, he'd been big when I'd touched him. …I wasn't even sure I could handle him, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to see him lose control the way he had last night, and the night before, and this time know that it wasn't simply because he was being stimulated, but because he was with me. Sex was more personal… face to face… the connection of two souls. I wanted to feel that close to him.

My thoughts had driven me into a frenzy—I was rocking against his fingers faster than he could move them, desperate, begging him through gasps to come take me, make me his, fill me up, love me… and when his mouth descended again, I flew over the edge in a blinding flash, my head slamming back into the pillows, my screams probably comical in their extremity, but I couldn't help it.

Despite the earth-shattering nature of the orgasm, I wanted more. I did not feel satisfied. I collapsed on the bed, panting and gasping, and when he kissed his way back up to me, I was already pulling at his clothes. "I have to feel you…"

He helped me then, kicking off his shoes while I unbuttoning and unzipped his shorts. He pulled them down and bicycled his legs to remove them while I dragged his shirt over his head, and for the first time, we were naked, together, pressed together. That knowledge had me gasping for breath again, the contact of his skin both cool against my heated flesh and scorching, because I could not help but react. He was smooth and yet firm, soft but strong. The way he felt against me, between my legs, had me writhing beneath him before he even started moving.

I reached down to touch him, to stroke him, but he gently pulled my hand away, kissing my lips. "…You want me to last, don't you?" He chided, and the sultry nature of his voice had my eyes rolling back in my head.

"Yess," I hissed. Yes, I wanted him to last. Forever, if he could. And suddenly, that was an important point. I forced my eyes open, catching him, trying to impress upon him with simply the force of my gaze the significance of my words. "…I love you."

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, looking like his whole world had come together in that moment, despite me having said it once before. "I love you too. Sara… Can I have you, please? All of you?"

I know he's asking more than to slip inside me, and this slow-down, this conversation… gives me a second to think. I hesitate, only a moment. "…The baby." I don't ask it as a question, but I know that he knows. He kisses me and then dips down, laying a gentle kiss over my abdomen, his amazing hands caressing the tiny bump there that hints at what's inside.

"…I will love him or her as much as I love you. I would give my life to protect this baby… as if it were my own."

Tears sprung into my eyes, again, and I was no longer confused. Not even a little bit. "…You already have all of me."

He pushed inside me, the moment imprinted in my mind forever, the gasps that fell from each of our lips mingling together as we bent closer, pressing our lips together, taking a long moment just to relish the finality of it all. It did feel final… Like coming home. There was a definitiveness that I had never felt before, and I realized with some surprise that I now knew how people could believe that sex could be holy. This moment was holy. This man and I, together… were holy. I had never known anything more certainly in my life.

He moved within, slowly, and yet each stroke was powerful and sent shock waves through me. We met to kiss between each, until it became too heated, our breaths coming faster than his movements, my head rolling on the pillow beneath me, my fingers flexing over his shoulder blades, digging in deeper and then releasing when he slid back. I could feel every muscle in his body tense and relax, smell the scents of both our sweat and arousal, mixing together and filling up the room. I could taste the salt from his skin and the sound of his breathing and soft moans and grunts had me going higher and higher, despite his steady rhythm. His chest moved against mine, my feet slid up his calves, knees hooking around his thighs, his hands moving from the bed to grip around, under my shoulders, putting us even closer.

But the thing I will remember until the day I die was the way his blue eyes stayed on mine the whole time, whether I had to close mine at the intensity of the pleasure or not—every time I looked at him, he was watching me with an intensity that defied anything I had ever known. They positively glowed when my legs tightened and I arched up against him, release gripping me and throwing me into bliss. He followed me, eyes wide open, taking in my every expression, my every sound, and the reality of this—the knowledge that he was watching me come and coming with me, the act of watching me enough to take him over without increased speed or stimulation—it sent me on another, my eyes slamming shut, my entire body swept up in it.

He tried to pull from me, long before I was ready, and I tightened my sore legs again, keeping him deep inside me, despite his rapidly softening erection. "No… I don't ever want to stop feeling you. …I want to be close to you, just like this, forever…"

And he sighed happily, laying himself down onto me and tucking his head into the crook of my neck, his chest still rising and falling heavily. "Forever," he whispered in agreement, and I let my eyes close.