The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 154

Chapter 87-1

The hot, aromatic water laps gently against my body, the fragrant clouds of steam rising around us to blur the hard edges of the bathroom.

Through the haze, I watch Locke stand by the edge of the tub. His hands rest on his hips, his gray eyes tracking every breath I take as if he is still monitoring a fragile patient. He looks imposing, shadowed in the warm amber lighting, his broad shoulders practically filling the doorway.

But beneath the stoic facade, I can see the quiet tension lingering in his jaw, the subtle tight set of his shoulders. He’s still holding his breath for me, still guarding the perimeter of my peace.

I can’t stand the distance between us. Not tonight. Not after a day that tried so violently to tear everything I love apart.

Slowly, I reach my hand up out of the water, resting my dripping palm on the smooth, cool porcelain rim.

“Get in with me,” I whisper. “Please?”

Locke blinks, taken aback for a fleeting second. His eyes drop to my hand, then rise back to meet my gaze. “Zara… are you sure? After our argument the other day, and what happened with Willow?””

“Locke,” I cut in softly, my voice leaving no room for argument. “I don’t want space right now. I need you.”

That’s all it takes. The rigid posture melts instantly, and without a word, he peels off his shirt, tosses it onto the vanity stool. Next come his belt, his boots, his jeans, his underwear and socks, until he stands naked before me.

The intricate black ink sprawling across his chest, ribcage, shoulders and forearms gleams under the soft lights. He’s a masterclass in raw, dangerous strength, but the way that he steps over the high porcelain edge is executed with the ultimate, agonizing caution.

The water rises significantly as he settles his massive frame into the tub opposite me. He lets out a low sigh as the heat hits him, his long legs framing mine. I don’t want to sit across from him, though; I want to be on him, I want him to be all over me.

I reach out, taking his heavy hands in mine. “Turn me around.”

Locke’s eyes darken with a sudden, profound tenderness. Moving slowly so as not to splash, his hands slide under my arms, lifting my weight effortlessly out of the water. He pulls me back against his broad chest, settling me down directly in his lap. My back rests flushed against his warm, ink-covered torso, his powerful arms wrapping securely around my waist to hold me close.

I let out a shaky, shuttering breath, leaning my head back against the crook of his neck. The scent of lavender and warm skin wraps around me like armor.

“Better?” he murmurs against my damp hair, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind my ear.

“So much better,” I breathe, placing my hands over his forearms where they rest across my stomach. “I felt like I was floating away all afternoon. Like I was untethered.”

“You’re anchored now,” Locke promises quietly, his thumbs stroking soft circles over my ribs. “I’ve got you, Zara Always.”

Chapter 87

Claim

He shifts slightly beneath me, his hands traveling upward with exquisite slowness. They trace the delicate curve of my waist, gliding over the wet skin of my ribcage, up to cup my breasts.

I gasp softly at the contrast. the hot water surrounding us and the firm, demanding heat of his touch. My eyes flutter shut as his mouth finds the column of my throat, trailing slow, burning kisses along the line where my neck meets my shoulder.

Every touch is deliberate. It isn’t just physical; it’s a conversation, a quiet, fierce declaration wiping away every toxic thing Willow said. He isn’t treating me like a glass figurine about to shatter, and he isn’t treating me with anything less than sacred devotion.

I turn my head, searching for his lips. Locke catches my mouth in a deep, agonizingly slow kiss, his tongue sliding against mine, tasting of sweet warmth and absolute certainty. A quiet whimper escapes my throat, my hips instinctively shifting against his in the water.

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