by Zara Cox
He caught and secured her hands above her head, the leather cuffs snug but not too tight. He trailed his fingers down her arm and down her exposed sides, making her squirm with need and a healthy amount of belly-twisting anxiety.
God, she’d strayed so far out her comfort zone, it was beyond ridiculous. But somehow she’d grown to trust Zach, to know nothing would happen here that she didn’t want.
“Step up for me, baby,” he gave the guttural instruction.
She looked down to see him crouched before her, one hand waiting to secure her ankle holster.
Biting her lip, she positioned her feet on the protruding ledge. Quickly he fastened the cuffs and rose to surge over her.
One forefinger caressed her cheek, his gaze intent on her face. “Tell me how you feel.”
“I feel helpless and powerful at the same time,” she gasped.
“Perfect. That means you won’t give in quickly.”
“Give in to what?”
“To this.” Lowering his head, he sucked one nipple hard into his mouth and then bit on the hard nub.
“Zach!” Her cry ripped through her throat and fire flashed through her pelvis. She was soaking wet before he turned to treat her other nipple to the same attention.
Her hands jerked against her bonds, ramming home to her how helpless she was. But each tug brought a fresh wave of lust rather than fear.
He started to lift his head. She moaned her protest. “No. More.”
The slow, satisfied smile that spread across his face caught at her heartstrings. He repeated the action, closing his eyes to concentrate on his task as she cried out in pleasure.
When he lifted his head, his control was firmly in place.
Zachary Savage was in his element.
The man caught in the rip tide of anguish had receded. In his place was the master of sex, whose bedroom skills were honed to perfection.
He suckled her hard, lapped her with lazy sweeps of his tongue until she was poised on the edge of orgasm.
Then he withdrew. Stepping behind her, he brushed her hair to one side and planted hot kisses on her nape.
Reaching around her, he cupped one breast and drifted his other hand down her midriff until he paused at the top of her mound. “Do you want me to touch you here, Peaches?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes.”
“Tell me how wet you are for me first,” he instructed hoarsely.
“So wet. I’m dripping with it. I need you, Zach,” her voice caught on a helpless sob.
He shuddered at her back and he cupped her almost roughly. “That is your power right there, Bethany. You don’t know how much I want to take what you’re offering.”
“Take it. It’s yours.”
His head dropped between her shoulder blades, his breath rushing in and out with his harsh inhalations.
“God, Bethany, you don’t know what you do to me. Being with you heightens everything, makes me want to grab life by the balls and squeeze every last drop of happiness from it. It’s more than I’ve wanted to in a very long time. I don’t want to hold back. Don’t ask me to hold back. I won’t. I can’t. Not with you.”
“I love you,” she repeated because she couldn’t not tell him. She couldn’t not let him know that he had her. To help him battle his demons. Or at least banish them for a while. “I love you, Zach.”
Tears lid down her face. At her back, she heard his gruff sound of pain.
Abruptly, he let her go and strode round to face her.
Eyes deep with turbulent emotion looked into hers before he slanted his mouth over hers. His kiss was bruising to the point of pain, his tongue intent on dueling with hers and winning.
When the need for air drove them apart, he permitted her only a second before he was back, his hands gripping her in a possessive hold that she had no doubt would leave marks.
But she didn’t care. All she wanted was his thick, veined cock between her legs. All she wanted was to make him delirious with pleasure so he would forget his pain for an instant.
“I love you.”
He jerked again at her confession. “Bethany.”
“Yes. Please.”
He gripped his cock and caressed it from root to tip. Liquid oozed at the opening, making hunger claw at her insides. Stepping closer, he took hold of her hips and surged inside with one long thrust.
Their mingled groan echoed around the room. A trembling seized them both as the first wave of pleasure receded just a tiny bit. But that was just the calm before the almighty storm that had been brewing for hours.
His balls slammed against her ass with each hard ram. Despite the ledge giving her a slight height advantage, the power behind his penetration still lifted her off her feet.
Pleasure like she’d never known screamed through her. “Zach,” she sobbed, feeling bliss careen closer. He pounded relentlessly, his mouth devouring her wherever he could—her cheeks, her neck, the sensitive underside of her arm.
“Fuck, I…can’t get enough of you. Can’t…” he gritted out. “Never leave me, Bethany. Please.”
“I won’t…I won’t…Oh, God,” she cried out as her orgasm exploded from her core.
“Baby…Peaches.” She heard his guttural moan, then he was spewing his load into her, hot bursts of semen that flooded her insides with each body-shaking ripple.
He soothed her body with gentle caresses until their breathing slowed, then reaching up, he released her hands.
Hugging his hot body to her, a sense of peace stole over Bethany. She didn’t fool herself into thinking it was a lasting peace, but she grasped it all the same.
When he freed her totally and carried her to the gurney, she didn’t protest. He made love to her again on the gurney then strapped her into the swing. By the time he settled her into the gadget-free armchair, she could barely move.
At some point before morning slid into afternoon then into another angst-filled evening, he picked her up and took her back into their suite and ordered a tray of food brought up.
They ate, showered, and got back into bed. There he curled her back into his front and with his arms tightly around her, he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
The sound of his groan woke her. Turning, she held her breath as another groan squeezed through his parted lips.
Zach wasn’t caught in a nightmare. But whatever he was dreaming about was vivid enough to evoke a spirited response. He smiled then frowned.
One hand raised as if he was waving, then dropped heavily back down.
Abruptly he turned away from her.
“Fa…”
She raised her hand to touch him but he moved again, turning to face her once more.
The blissful smile on his face trapped her breath in her lungs. Again he raised his hand. This time, his fingers moved in a gentle undulation, as if he was touching something…or someone.
The pain that ripped through her was as irrational as it was impossible to dismiss.
“Zach.” As selfish as it sounded, she didn’t want him trapped in a dream with someone else when she was right here next to him.
His head jerked but he didn’t wake.
“Farrah,” he said on a long sigh. “Farrah.”
Bethany froze, but her brain buzzed with a hundred thousand thoughts.
Farrah.
She frowned. The name sounded familiar. It was unique enough that she didn’t think she’d misunderstood it.
Farrah.
She sucked in a breath as the memory of where she’d seen it blazed in her mind. Ice and a tsunami of foreboding overwhelmed her.
Sliding out of bed, she quickly donned a discarded T-shirt and left the room. It was too early for any of the staff to be up, which was a blessing. She didn’t want anyone witnessing her slide into despair and insanity.
She opened the French doors and stepped out onto the terrace.
The sight of the shallow and deep pools surrounding the house caused her anxiety to escalate. Forcing
it aside, she skirted the building until she reached the long slab of pavement that dissected the shallow pool.
Heart thumping, she fixed her gaze on her target and walked along the pavement to the structure she’d seen Zach emerge from last night.
Up close, she noticed that the rocks had been smoothed into similar oblong shapes. She also saw the thick, multi-colored candle burning to one side, sending the scent of jasmine and eucalyptus into the thin night air.
Her heart rose and fell, her pulse frantically racing as she took a final step closer.
There, inscribed on the largest stone, was the name she’d just heard on the lips of the man she loved. The man whom she’d dared to think could one day belong to her as surely her heart belonged to him.
Farrah.
“Bethany.” Her name was a low imploration. And a hard command.
She whirled.
Zach stood behind her, clad only in the boxers he’d hastily pulled on.
He was so beautiful in the moonlight, so utterly breathtaking. And, she realized with a cold stab of reality, so utterly out of her reach. Still she couldn’t look away, couldn’t deny her heart one last chance to stop the shattering she knew was coming. “What is this place?” she asked.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes intensely forbidding. “Don’t ask, Bethany. Please.”
“I can’t not,” she replied.
His chest rose and fell in a shaky exhalation. And he waited.
“Who is Farrah, Zach?” she asked, although in her heart of hearts, she knew she must be a former lover. Or more.
Bethany remembered seeing her name in a newspaper in Paris. But lumped in together with a bunch of other names, she had no way of knowing its significance.
Well, she was about to find out.
“Farrah was my wife. We were married for one day. Then I killed her.”
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading HIGH.
Find out how Zach and Bethany’s story concludes in HIGHER, coming in early 2014.
In the meantime, if you’d like to stay in touch, you can find me on Twitter – @zcoxbooks or on Facebook – Zara Cox Writer
Alternatively, to join my newsletter list, you can email me – [email protected]
I’d love to hear from you.
Happy reading!
xxx
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost my profuse and heartfelt thanks to my friend and writing buddy, Kitty French. You pushed and prodded and generally didn’t stop being enthusiastic about me writing this story. I adore you almost as much as Mr. Savage does. Kitty, thank you!
I also wouldn’t have gotten very far in my writing journey without some very special writing friends, namely The Minxes of Romance. You ladies are sisters in the truest sense and I’d be lost without you.
To Kate, for reading my dirty, dirty draft and doing what you do best - asking some savvy questions that made me think, reassess and plough forward. You rock, my friend!
And last, but not least, to my husband, Tony, for being my most supportive, incredibly patient rock, and for bringing me coffee and chocolate when I pulled all-nighters for this and all my writing projects. I love you.
Copyright © 2013 Zara Cox
Edited by Sarah Barbour
Cover by Angela Oltmann
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About Author
Zara Cox has been writing for almost twenty-five years but it wasn’t until seven years ago that she decided to share her love of writing sexy, gritty stories with anyone besides her close family (the over 18s anyway!).
The Indigo Lounge Series is Zara's next step in her erotic romance-writing journey and she hopes you’ll take the journey with her.
