The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 109

Chapter 67-2

His c**k drags out almost completely before slamming back in. I cling to him, legs tightening around his waist as he keeps the rhythm steady and brutal, my head thrown back

“Look at me while I fuck you,” he demands, and I drop my head again to meet his gaze. “Let me see how much you love this c**k ruining you. I’m not stopping until you’re dripping down my balls and shaking in my arms, you hear me?”

He punctuates each filthy word with another deep thrust, grinding his hips in tight circles against my clit on every inward stroke, building the heat between us higher.

The friction builds unbearably, my walls fluttering around his shaft as he leans in, whispering filth between jagged breaths:

“That’s it, squeeze me just like that. I’m gonna fuck you through this window, make you feel me for days. This p***y’s mine, and I’m not stopping until you’re shaking apart on my cock.”

The words push me over the edge, a sob tearing from my throat as the pleasure crests too sharply, tears spilling hot down my cheeks.

My p***y clenches around him in rhythmic pulses, wetness flooding between us as the orgasm rips through me, but the intensity twists into something rawer, the tears coming faster now, streaking my flushed skin while my body trembles in his arms.

Locke stills instantly, his hips freezing mid-thrust, eyes widening as he catches sight of the tears. Concern cuts through the haze of lust on his face, his grip softening.

‘Zara? Baby, are you okay?” His voice is gentle, searching my face for any sign of pain. “Do we need to stop?”

I shake my head quickly, breath hitching as I cling to him. “No… no, don’t stop. I just… I missed you.”

He lets out a low chuckle, forehead pressing to mine, but the teasing glint in his eyes softens it. “It’s only been two nights, Zara.”

My fingers tighten on his shoulders. “Too long.”

That seems to satisfy him; the fire returns to his gaze as he resumes moving, one strong hand cupping my ass to hold me up while the other cradles my face, his thumb sweeping tenderly across my damp cheek to wipe the tears away.

He rolls his hips forward again, driving his thick c**k back into my soaked p***y.

His rhythm shifts, growing harder and more urgent, his c**k slamming deep into my p***y with bruising force that makes my back slide against the glass and my breath hitch in broken gasps. Each thrust grinds his pelvis against my swollen clit, the wet slap of our bodies echoing through the penthouse as his thick length stretches me wide, and hits that perfect spot over and over.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” I say, my voice raw and desperate, the coil of pleasure tightening unbearably in my core. “I’m close – I’m so close.”

I moan his name like a prayer, legs quivering around his waist.

1/2

<Chapter 6Le

Clam

“Gum with me, baby,” he rasps, eyes locked on my tear-streaked face with fierce tenderness. “Let go – right now.”

The command shatters me, and I shatter with him. My p***y clamps down hard around his c**k in rhythmic pulses, wetness flooding between us.

Locke follows instantly, his hips jerking erratically as he buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, hot spurts of cum pulsing deep inside me.

We stay locked like that, trembling, his forehead pressed to mine as our breaths mingle and the aftershocks ripple through us, his c**k twitching with every squeeze of my walls.

Locke’s arms tighten around me as he eases us away from the window. My legs stay around his waist, thighs slick with our mingled release, while he carries me across the penthouse with steady strides.

The large sofa waits in the shadowed living area, and he sinks down onto it without breaking our connection, settling me astride his lap so my breasts press to his chest and my arms circle his neck.

The change in angle has him shifting inside me, half-hard still, a warm, intimate pressure that makes me sigh against his mouth as we begin to kiss again.

The penthouse feels vast and silent around us, city lights filtering in like distant stars, but here on the sofa, the only heat that matters is the shared rhythm of our breathing and the way his thumb circles the small of my back.

“I’m sorry, Zara,” he murmurs against my temple, his lips brushing the damp skin there. “For everything – we’re a team, and I was an asshole to forget that. Never again, I promise.”

“It’s all forgiven and forgotten,” I whisper, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We’re here now. That’s what counts.”

His eyes soften. His hands settle on my waist, holding me close while our bodies remain joined in the most primal way.

“Welcome home, baby,” he says, the words a quiet vow that settles over us like a blanket. “Welcome back where you belong.”

I melt into him again, our mouths finding each other once more in a kiss that promises both recoveries, and the slow build of whatever comes next.

10

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