Chapter 17
His mind went from sleep to complete wakefulness in the time it took to take a breath. Something had disturbed him. He knew it wasn't the thunderstorm raging outside in the night sky.
Every sense was on alert as the instincts he had finely honed through out the years screamed that he was no longer alone in the room. It made his body tighten with an almost indiscernible reaction. Readying itself for action.
He was on his stomach in the bed, with his face turned away from the bedroom door. He never used to sleep that way, but he'd become somewhat complacent in the last few weeks. So his barely open eyes couldn't tell him who was in the room with him.
But his heightened sense of smell did.
It was Zar. He could smell the body soap she used to wash with, the floral scented shampoo that made her growing hair shine, the laundry detergent residue in the t-shirt she slept in, the unique scent of sleepy woman.
He turned his head slowly until he could see her pink and white form standing by his bed. She had her arms crossed over her t-shirt covered chest, as if cold. He could, in fact, see the goose bumps raising over her bare arms and legs. He knew she wasn't really cold. She was just reacting fearfully to the sound of the violent wind and crashing thunder.
She hated the storms that had visited New Concord lately. He wasn't too fond of them himself. He didn't like not being in control of something that could ruin everything he and the family had worked for. But at that moment, he was grateful for the storm. Because it had accomplished in one night what he'd been unable to do for the last month.
It had driven her into his arms.
Moving carefully for fear of scaring her away, he turned to his right side, facing her. She continued to stand next to him, so he felt safe in making the gesture he'd been wanting to make for days. Hell, for years.
He fisted the edge of the sheet. The force of his grip indicative of the desire running through his body. He was so keyed up, so hungry for her, so lonely without her next to him in bed.
Slowly he drew it back from his nude body. A gesture to show both welcome and to reveal how his flesh burned for her. Hiding nothing from her, trying to convey, without words, that the decision was hers.
He watched as her eyes traveled down his form and felt a fierce sense of triumph as a small fire flickered to life within her gaze.
Zar closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them, he could tell she'd come to some decision. It was in every line of her quickly relaxing body. He smiled at her as she climbed into bed with him. And was rewarded with a small up-turning of lips in return.
He stopped her from curling into his chest and instead quickly flipped her so that her back lay against his chest. Her body tensed briefly, then relaxed against his. It had always been their favorite sleeping position, something he was hoping some part of her would remember.
Every muscle, every bone, pore and cell in his body seemed to breathe her in. He had to close his eyes against the overwhelming sensation of rightness that raced along his nerves. Searing them with an almost painful intensity as he enfolded her against his body.
It had been such a long, hard, heart breaking journey to get to this point.
She'd looked away from his offered hand that night in the swamp. He'd been afraid she'd been too far gone mentally. He was lowering his hand when she'd shocked the hell out of him by turning her head back and revealing the tears running down her face. Her eyes more alive than he'd ever seen since he first encountered her outside of Genesco's.
If he hadn't already been on his knees he soon would've been when she further stunned him by trying to speak.
"Zara...Zarabeth?" The words had come out croaky, hesitant and whisper quiet, but they'd undoubtedly come out.
It took a few seconds for his world to right itself, but when it did, he realized what she was asking.
Swallowing past the guilty lump in his throat, he whispered back, "She's going to be fine, Zar. Thank you for saving her. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't realize what you were trying to do. It's no excuse...but it's all I have."
He expected his apology to be met with anger or derision, at the very least apathy. He absolutely didn't expect her break into sobs and fall to her knees in front of him.
The barriers that had been keeping her from interacting with everyone had obviously been torn down. Whether it had been the scare of losing Zarabeth or the trauma of his attack, he didn't know. Maybe they never would. But the abrupt change from zombie queen to painfully emotional woman left him nonplussed.
Hesitant to touch her, he watched helplessly as she continued to weep. He'd only seen Zar cry this hard one other time. When she'd confronted him about his infidelity with Miriam Gonzalez. Her slapping his face and chest less painful than the knowledge that he'd torn her heart apart with his lack of respect for her love and their relationship. At that time, he'd let her sob until she'd weakened herself to the point of collapse in his arms.
He wasn't about to put her through that again. Gently grasping her shoulders he hugged her shuddering form to his arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight as she continued to cry. A small happiness had opened in him as he murmured soft words of comfort and reassurance. He had wanted to do this for her for so long. To offer her comfort as she crawled her way out of the torment Bieti and his heinous actions had put her through for four long years.
When her sobs were reduced to small shivers and tiny catches of breath he had stood and picked her up. Carried her through the night forest to the house. Audrey and Imam, still keeping vigil over Zarabeth, had been struck silent at the sight of him carrying a very much alive Zar in his arms. They soon recovered and had started to issue rapid fire questions. Only easing up when he gave them a firm shake of his head and a warning glare over Zar's head. She didn't need to be overwhelmed right now with well intentioned smothering. She needed space and comfort and rest.
He had started for the bathroom with every intention of cleaning her up then putting her to bed. But she had slid out of his arms and headed for Zarabeth's room. At the doorway she had smiled to see the quietly sleeping child.
Placing comforting hands on her shoulders he quietly admonished her, "Did you think I would lie to you?"
Shaking her head she had answered him back in her husky whisper, "No...I just had to...see...for myself." Her words were understandably hesitant. After all, she hadn't spoke in four years. But she WAS speaking now, that was the important part.
She talked more each day after that. Until a week later she was speaking smoothly, if raspily.
It was apparent that she was clear headed now, though she insisted she still had no firm memories of any one before her rescue. But he would catch her looking at him sometimes. She'd always quickly look away whenever their eyes met, but not before he caught a glimpse of frustration and confusion and... longing. She remembered something about their past. He was betting it just wasn't a full blown memory. Probably more of a remembered sensation or feeling.
She still was no where near the old Zar. He doubted she ever would be. She'd been through too much for that to be a reasonable expectation. But as she became more involved with the family, especially Zarabeth, he saw the new person begin to mix with the old. She didn't have the same reactions to things as the old Zar had. She was quieter, shyer...yet her smile when she was truly happy was pure Zar. The eyes might not twinkle as much as they had previously, but they were only dimmed, not extinguished.
She might be a quieter version of Zar, but the change from walking vegetable to normal person was loud and clear. She became a friend to Audrey, a willing helper and conversationalist for Imam and an avid picture coloring buddy with Hill. But the most amazing alteration was with Zarabeth.
The two had bonded as Zarabeth and Zar recovered. Where before the attack Zar had kept the little girl at arms length, now she involved herself as much as possible. Quite laughter and loud giggles could be heard coming from Zarabeth's room at any given time during the day. Just as the sight of Zarabeth hugging Zar in her sleep, as the two took a nap, could greet anyone looking into the room occasionally.
It was enough to make him love her all over. The old mixing with the new...it didn't matter. She was Zar. She was his.
He knew the day would come when they would be lovers again. He just had to give her time. And though he had learned patience the hard way, he found himself anxious to touch her. There'd only been three women he'd been intimate with since coming to Whitson's Crossing. One, a waitress at the a bar...strictly casual. They'd both only been looking for the sex. The other two had been passer's through. Pilot's off the normal trading routes looking for a quiet chance to stock up on supplies. One night stands that satisfied his need for sex. The only thing he wanted to satisfy. Only Zar had created, and fulfilled, his need for intimacy.
A lifetime of taking what he wanted warred with the certain knowledge that he couldn't force her to come to him any earlier than when she was ready. To do so would be to risk scaring her away. The old Zar would've told to him to go fuck himself if he had tried anything she wasn't ready for. He wasn't sure enough of the new Zar to be certain that she wouldn't freeze him out. Or leave him.
For all the love he felt for her, he still had no idea how to get close to her again. He wasn't a gentle man. Had never tried to charm a woman in his whole violent, sorry life. Never had to. Women, and for that matter some men, had thrown themselves at him. The ones who didn't want to kill him or weren't pissing their pants in terror of him of course. Theoretically he knew what most men would do. The flowers and candy, the hand-holding, the long talks.
Even if he could make himself act so sappy, it wouldn't work. He and Zar had too much history for that. Unfortunately, she didn't exactly remember that history. For all he knew she just thought of him as Zarabeth's father...or the guy who'd beat the shit out of her.
So he'd been reduced to just watching her. Knowing he was probably freaking her out, but unable to get past the knowledge that approaching her may send her running in the opposite direction.
But now...now she lay wrapped in his arms. Her head resting on his upper arm. The warmth of her body stoking the fire raging in his.
He wanted to touch her, master her body all over again. Learn what gave her pleasure, teach her what pleased him. He was rock hard against her, but he knew he had to let her make the first move. He would never be sure otherwise if she was just staying because he forced the issue, or even worse, was staying because it would be the easier thing to do.
He could feel her heart beat both within his chest and through her back as it pressed against him. It was the strong beat of a strong woman. It reassured him that she was there, alive and for the most part whole. That he had not destroyed one of the most precious things he'd ever been allowed to be apart of.
The storm raged and the wind blew and still she lay against him for long minutes. Both occasionally shifted, but neither spoke. They were too intent on soaking up the feel of each other. Just when he thought he'd have to forgo the surety of knowing it had been her decision alone and touch her, she ran her fingers lightly over the palm of the arm on which her head rested.
The sensation shot straight from his hand to his groin. Her touch was tentative, but it was all he needed.
With more passion than grace, he flipped her on to her back. Sliding his body over hers while enfolding her head in his hands as he kissed the breath right out of her. Filling her mouth with his tongue as if the recess held some magical potion and the only way he could possess it was to drink deeply and quickly. Coming up for air only to rid her of her t-shirt and panties.
Now she was as bare as he. Resting on his elbow while leaning to one side, he ran his hand down her side from shoulder to knee. Watching as his fingers trace a body that, while somewhat thinner, nevertheless still somehow reminded him of the Zar he first loved on Polaris. Raising her leg so that her foot rested flat on the bed, he bent and kissed her knee. His path let him nibble and lick his way over her thigh, blowing lightly on the neighboring curls then kissing his way over her stomach until his journey ended between her breasts. Loving each breast tip with hard, sucking pulls of his teeth, then softly licking as if in apology for the mock rough treatment.
Raising his head, he looked at her face. She was smiling at him in that mysterious way the new Zar had. He smiled back at her, a smile that few others had ever seen from Richard Riddick.
"You ready for this?"
He barely heard his own growling voice above the raging tempest outside the window and the wild beating of his heart. But he knew she would, and it was important to him that she knew exactly what was going on.
Zar nodded, and just to make sure that he knew she was very sure, ran one hand down his furred chest until it found him laying against her inner thigh. His hips bucked instinctively as she stroked him and then there was no more thinking.
Just him and her. His black hole of need for her, that while sometimes blocked, was never, ever filled. And her love for him that survived separation and torture and soul-destroying change.
They came together like the storm that raged around them. Hard-driving, elemental, primitive. The plunging and retreat of their bodies creating a friction mixed of sweat and sex and breath.
Lightening flashed into the room. Temporarily blinding him, but it didn't matter. If he'd been in a room filled with a thousand stars, he would still know who was moving beneath him. She was Yin to his Yang, oxygen to his fire, life to his dead soul.
Gripping her bottom, he raised her slightly and started plunging deeper and faster. Heard her moan, saw her hands fist the sheets at her side, watched as her eyes closed in desire overload. He knew she was on the edge when her muscles started to grip him tighter, and it became very important all of a sudden that she know exactly who was driving her over that edge.
Zar didn't hear his first gasped out "Say my name!" Too caught up in the excruciating tension that was gripping her body. But her eyes flew open when that part of his body that was supplying all that wonderful feeling suddenly stopped. Panting in desperation she looked at him, beyond caring that he saw her surprise and pique. Her frantic irritation growing when he laughed low and with a great deal of male arrogance.
The storm outside eerily quieted as if it was holding it's breath in anticipation of what he would do.
He whispered "Say my name, Zar." Simultaneously breaking her heart and increasing her love for a man who, though he told her she had returned from the dead to him not once but twice, still doubted her need for him. She might not remember all that had gone on before, but she did remember the feeling of love. Of being loved by the man now apart of her body in the most intimate way possible.
She whispered back to him with tears pooling in her eyes, "Richard. My Richard."
The storm let loose at once with the resumption of his thrusts. The man and the weather phenomena's intensity matched in determination to mark the land and the body that lay under them as theirs forever.
She didn't scream like Zar used to when she came. But instead gasped as if all the breath was leaving her body while her eyes flew open wide in amazement. Blind with the pleasure, trusting him to protect her in her vulnerable state of unawareness. Her body arching hard against his as it tried to crawl inside.
He followed seconds later. Forcing his eyes to stay open through the release. Burning the sight of her face and body on his altered corneas. Ensuring that until his dying day, he would never forget the picture of her giving herself and her love to him once again. His minds eye exploding in all the colors he could no longer see, but still vividly remembered. The world inside him shifting back to its correct axis.
And he knew in that instant the truth. Zar had found her own redemption, and in doing so, saved him all over again.
