The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 120

Chapter 71-2

Clam

“Hey, you have chemo tomorrow, Zarabug,” Mayhem says, glancing at the time. “We should let you two have your evening back, let you get some rest for the treatment.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow morning before you leave for the hospital,” Jade says as we all walk over to the elevator. “And I’ll come over after you get back, if you feel up to it.”

“Thanks, Jade.” I press the button for the elevator to come up. “I’ll let you know.”

She hugs me, then smiles at Locke. “Don’t let her spend all night worrying.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says.

Mayhem claps Locke on the shoulder. “She’s your problem again, man.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” Locke runs an affectionate hand through my hair. “But I’m pretty happy to be stuck with her, to be honest.”

“Hey,’ I say indignantly, swatting his hand away. “Stuck?”

Mayhem grins at me, then envelops me in a massive bear hug just as the elevator doors slide open. “Night, pain in the ass.”

“Night, star sign believer.”

The lift doors slide close on the sound of Jade’s laughter, and Mayhem’s sputtered protests. The penthouse falls quiet, and Locke and I stand there, looking at each other.

The corner of his mouth lifts, and he offers his hand as we walk back to the kitchen.

“What?” I say. “What’s the smile mean?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring at me.”

“I haven’t seen you all evening.”

“You saw me four hours ago.”

“Exactly.”

I smile and lean my hip against the kitchen island. “What have you been doing all night?”

“Missing you.”

The answer comes so easily that it catches me off guard. “That sounds suspiciously smooth.”

“I’ve had four whole hours to practice.”

“Oh?” I say saucily. “And what else have you been doing?”

“Concocting a scenario. A fairly detailed one.”

1/34

Chapter 712.

bite back a smile. “Should I be concerned?”

“Possibly.” He stops in front of me, close enough that I can feel the warmth coming from him. “In fact… probably.”

“What happens in this scenario?”

“Well…” His gaze drifts deliberately towards my mouth. “You come home.”

“Strong beginning.”

“I thought so.”

“And then?”

“You tell me you missed me.”

I laugh. “Clearly a fantasy.”

“I took some creative liberties.”

“Obviously.”

Locke’s hands settle lightly on my hips. “And then you kiss me.”

“Do I?”

“Enthusiastically.”

“That doesn’t sound like me, not even a little bit.”

“You know.” He lowers his head slightly. “You were much less argumentative in my version.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

He smiles. “I may have embellished.”

“Anything else?” I ask, feeling a bit breathless all of a sudden.

“A few details.”

“What sort of details?”

His thumb brushes gently over my hip. “The sort I’d rather demonstrate.”

My pulse gives a traitorous little jump, and I tilt my face towards his. “Your scenario has one major flaw, handsome.”

His eyebrows lift. “What’s that?”

“You’ve done an awful lot of thinking…” I slide my hands up his chest. “…and not nearly enough doing.”

His smile turns slow and wicked. “That can be corrected.”

Then he kisses me, and I rise onto my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. His kiss deepens, and it’s warm, and familiar, and feels like us.

2/3

Chapter 71

Without a word, he tugs me over to the living room area, to the deep and luxurious floor rug, and he sits on the sofa, leaves me standing. And suddenly he’s smiling, he’s smiling that smile, and I know that his carefully imagined evening is beginning now.

“Kneel for me,” he says, his voice low and even, carrying that unmistakable edge of command that makes my breath catch.

My body responds immediately, moving before my mind fully catches up, sliding to the floor. The carpet is soft beneath my knees, and I settle there, looking up at him through my lashes.

His gray eyes hold mine, intense and unyielding, while the subtle bulge in his jeans hints at the arousal building between us.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmurs, reaching down to trace his thumb along my lower lip.

I feel the heat pooling between my thighs, my p***y growing slick with anticipation, every nerve alight as I wait for his next word, but he says nothing for at least a minute.

His fingers slide into my hair, gripping just enough to tilt my head, and the connection between us deepens, electric and raw, stretches out in loaded silence.

‘Stand up,” he commands at last, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. “And strip for me. Slowly, and not one word, baby.”

The order settles over my skin like a warm weight, and I rise on unsteady legs, the ache between my thighs intensifying as I meet his gaze.

My fingers tremble only slightly as they find the bottom of my sweater, lifting it over my head, revealing the lace edge of my bra and the swell of my breasts beneath.

I shrug the material from my shoulders, letting it whisper to the floor, then reach behind to unhook the bra clasp, exposing my n*****s to the cool air, already tight and sensitive.

I push my pants down next, hips swaying just enough to let them pool at my ankles, followed by the damp scrap of my panties sliding over my thighs. The room feels charged, my bare skin prickling with awareness as I stand fully naked before him, my cunt glistening with arousal.

He watches without a word, his eyes tracing every curve – the flush creeping down my chest, the way my breath hitches, the subtle quiver in my legs from holding still under his scrutiny.

Heat pools deeper in my core, my clit throbbing in time with my pulse.

He rises then, closing the distance between us with a single fluid step. His hand tangles in my hair as he guides me down with that same unyielding pressure.

“Lie on the carpet,” he murmurs, his voice laced with that quiet authority that makes my pulse race faster “Spread your legs and touch yourself. Stroke that pretty p***y for me while I watch.”

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