A/N: We're at just past the halfway mark. Hope you're enjoying!

Previously:

"I'm trying to share more with you," he said softly, "because that's what I think you want. It would be helpful if you'd tell me if I'm getting warmer or not."

"Warmer," she whispered.

His eyes were dilated black, and with a light of triumph and heat in his eyes, he came at her again, only this time she met him halfway.

Chapter Five

He tasted the same, Steph thought dazedly, like heaven on earth, and in the water as they were, their bodies being gently battered by the rise and fall of the swelling waves, she pressed closer.

At her movement, Ranger groaned, low and throaty, and then he was inside, his tongue tangling with hers, his taste warm and so right she felt her eyes sting as she opened to him with a low murmur of acquiesce.

He shifted in the water so that she was flush to him, her breasts mashed to his chest, her soft, giving belly pressed to his hard, ridged one, her legs entangled with his. She'd always loved the way she felt so small and protected in his embrace, and that hadn't changed. Neither had the fact that he could still thoroughly ravish her mouth with a skill that rendered her completely witless.

"Missed this, Babe." This was punctuated by hot little biting kisses along her jaw to her ear, which he nibbled while breathing with thrillingly unevenness, all of which combined to make her eyes cross with stabbing lust.

"I can't stand anymore," she gasped.

"Wrap your legs around me. There. Oh yeah, there."

A wave washed around them, lifting them up and then down on the endless tide. Holding her head still with one hand fisted in her hair, his other slid down her spine and into her bikini bottoms, squeezing, molding, pressing her against his shorts, thin and wet now, hiding nothing, especially not the hot, pulsing erection nudging between her thighs.

"More," he growled, palming one butt cheek and then the other before dipping his fingers between and exploring there.

"Ranger—"

He cut her off with his lips and teeth and tongue, coming at her hard and fierce, still holding her head in place as if afraid she'd pull away.

Fat chance. She couldn't get enough either. Slippery strands of her hair caught in the stubble on his jaw, stabbed into her eyes, clung to their shoulders, releasing the scent of her shampoo in the air along with the tangy salt from the ocean spray.

Inhaling her in as if he wanted to gobble her up whole, Ranger sank his teeth into her earlobe and pulled lightly as he exhaled slowly, raising a delicious set of goose bumps along her flesh. Lifting his head, still holding hers, he stared down into her eyes, then her lips. When she licked them to get the last taste of him, he groaned.

All while his fingers gripped her bottom hard, grinding her against him, his hips moving, moving, moving, in a slow, snug rocking motion that had her whimpering in helpless delight, gasping, sobbing for breath as she squirmed to get even closer. Her skin felt too tight, her heart too full as he drove her toward climax with nothing more but those maddening, increasing oscillations of his hips.

When he pulled back for air, Steph moaned low a protest deep in her throat and slid her fingers into his hair, trying to bring his mouth back to hers. Her hips were still rocking, her heart still pumping, her nipples had shrunk to painful tight little ball bearings that ached, ached for his attention. Between her legs she felt hot and desperate, and with him holding her open, spread to his rocking hips, his erection within easy access of every critical nerve ending she owned, she couldn't stop, just couldn't stop.

"Ranger." The word was a mere whimper, dark and disturbingly needy, and in another time and place she might have spared the time to be horrified to hear herself begging, but not now. Now she needed him, hard and pulsing, needed him to tear away her bikini bottoms and his shorts, needed him thrusting into her, taking her over the edge, now, now, now. "Please . . ."

"Oh, I'm going to please." He rasped a thumb back and forth over her nipple, then drew his hand down her belly to do the same over her bikini covered sex, outlining her in slow precision. "Here, Steph? Now?"

"Here," she panted. "Now."

He dragged her out of the ocean. She thought maybe he intended to take her inside the cottage but apparently it was too far away because the moment their calves were free of the water, he sank to his knees and brought her down with him.

Their hands fumbled for purchase, hers skimming over his glorious body, touching his shoulders, his flat, perfect abs, his thighs . . . between them.

His were no less desperate, his fingers spread wide as if to touch all that he could with every sweep of his hands.

She tugged down his wet, clinging shorts.

He bit her shoulder.

She licked his Adam's Apple.

He growled and tumbled her all the way down to the sand, spreading her legs and making himself at home between them, cupping her ass to pull her forward in a quick, hard movement that settled her more completely against him before he covered her body with his and kissed her, hard and wet and deep. She tried to get her hands between them, to draw him inside her but he manacled her hands in his. "I don't intend to rush. Not when I finally have you wanting me again."

Is that what he thought? That she didn't want him?

He sank his fingers into her hair, drawing her head back so that he could drag his mouth down her throat towards the curve of a breast. Slow as molasses. It felt amazing. She knew what he could offer her, knew how far he could take her, which was further than anyone had ever taken her. And she wanted to go there, now.

Water and sand swirled around them in the dark, dark night as he tugged her bikini top off and tossed it aside before dipping his head and capturing her nipple in his mouth, lashing the tender tip with his tongue. Stars burst in her vision but she had no idea if they were the real ones hanging in the sky above them or only manufactured in her head from what he was doing to her as she cupped his head in her hands and held him to her.

Water lapped at their feet with each wave. She loved the weight of him, thrilled to the way he thrust a thigh between hers, spreading her, holding her open as he lifted his head and blew hot breath over her wet nipple. "Missed the taste of you." Curling the fingers of one hand around the bikini tie on her hip, he tugged until the wet, stretchy material popped free. With a rough groan, he kissed his way southbound, past her belly button, where he nipped at an inner thigh, and then the other.

And then in between.

Steph gasped and tightened her grip on his hair, her entire body tightening. She was there, right there, but then he pulled back a fraction of an inch.

With a sob of frustration, he dug her fingers into his shoulders. "Don't stop."

"I won't." But the man continued to tease her. Frustrated beyond speech, she gripped his hair tight and tried to direct his head.

"Easy," he murmured as a wave teased just past their knees.

Easy? She'd give him easy! Again she gripped his hair and shifted his head and felt a puff of air in the right spot.

He was chuckling. Bastard. Rat Bastard. "Goddamnit, Ranger, do me!"

"I intend to, Babe. My way." He took her with his mouth then, by turns soft and gentle, demanding and aggressive, and only when she was a quivering, desperate mass, did he get serious, unerringly laving at her with his tongue in the rhythm he knew she needed. Each heartbeat, each breath, shoved her closer to the unrelenting, building heat threatening to consumer her, and then she was coming, bursting apart at the seams really. The water was hitting them at mid leg now, the dark night sky drifting over them as she fought to catch her breath. "That felt like a hurricane."

His hair brushed over her as he huffed out a soft laugh and turned his head, kissing her inner thigh. "Hurricane Ranger."

She laughed breathlessly. "F-5 strength." But then the laughter caught in her throat because Ranger surged up to his knees, gripped her hips in his hands and stared down at her with burning eyes. "More please," she whispered.

"Greedy."

"Yes," she said solemnly. "I want it all."

Their gazes locked. "You have it," he said, and while she was wishing he really meant that, he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth, controlled thrust.

Her pleasure-filled cry co-mingled with his. Wrapping both her arms and legs around him, she tipped her mouth up for his crushing kiss as he began to move. Water continued to lap at their feet and calves, the sand warm and giving beneath them as they took each other completely apart. She exploded again, from a deeper, darker place than she had before, and even as she let go and cried out his name, she knew. God, she knew.

She was still, and always would be, hopelessly, helplessly in love with him.

#

When she came back to herself she realized he was still hard as iron inside her, holding himself rigid.

He hadn't come.

She ran her hands down the taut, damp, quivering muscles of his back.

"Don't," he choked out. "Don't move, don't touch."

"But—"

"Don't talk either." He buried his face in her hair and took several long, gulping, deep breaths before speaking in a tight, guttural voice. "I don't have a condom."

He was barely clinging to control, and a burst of warmth and affection for him nearly overcame her, so much more she could hardly breath. "I do," she whispered.

He lifted his head, his eyes black and glittering.

"In my purse," she said.

They both craned their necks and stared at the little beach cottage, a good hundred yards away.

"Fuck," he said tightly.

"We can do that," she said coyly.

He met her gaze, his unwavering and no-holds-barred dark and hungry. And not playful, not at the moment. "One condom isn't going to cut it," he said. "Not tonight."

Good thing she was flat on her back because her knees went rubbery at his thrillingly rough tone. "Then we'll have to get creative, won't we?"

With a groan, he rolled off her to his back and tossed his arm over his eyes. "You're going to kill me. Give me a second." His chest rose and fell rapidly as she watched him fight for control. A fascinating sport.

And arousing. His chest, defined and delineated with lean, hard muscles, heaved with each breath, his flat, ridged belly, quivering. She straddled him, murmured "shh" at his low, tortured groan, and slid down that delicious body. "Let me get started on that creativity," she murmured, and ran her tongue up the length of him, swirling it over the tip.

Ranger groaned raggedly, struggling with that control she always admired but wanted no part of at the moment. She wanted him to lose it. Wanted to watch. Just as he'd watched her. And she had the advantage of knowing that this act was one of his favorites, guaranteed to take him over the edge. She licked him again, then raised her head and surveyed him, sprawled out before her, back bowed, body drawn tight as an arrow, his face a mask of both pleasure and pain. "Want me to stop?" she asked softly.

His head thunked back on the sand as his fingers tunneled into her hair, clutching her head. "Only if you want to see a grown man cry."

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, I can't express how much it means to me! There's 8 chapters in total, so we're close now…