The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 234

<Chapter 11

Claim

Locke reaches out, his large hand settling gently against the side of my hip, his fingers tracing the curve of my waist, mapping the dip of my bone.

“I love you, Zara,” he says, his voice quiet. “With everything I am. Everything I have.”

Tears sting the backs of my eyes, not from sadness, but from the sheer, overwhelming weight of being loved by a man like him. A man who would burn the world down to keep me safe, but who lowers every wall he has the moment we’re alone.

“I love you too, Locke,” I say, my voice cracking slightly. “So much.”

He climbs onto the bed first, sitting back against the headboard, and pulls me up with him. He doesn’t rush. He moves me gently, lifting my legs, bringing me across his lap until I’m straddling his thighs, my knees resting on either side of his broad hips.

The feeling of skin against skin is instant, electric, and scorching hot. My bare breasts press against his heavy, tattooed chest, the friction sending a sharp wave of heat pooling low in my belly. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through his hair, leaning down to press my forehead against his.

Locke’s hands settle on the backs of my thighs, his broad palms smoothing over my skin, lifting me slightly so I’m resting directly over his hard, heavy c**k pressing through his briefs.

He tilts his head, taking one of my n*****s into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the peak before drawing it in with a low, rhythmic suckle that sends a jagged bolt of heat straight down my thighs, into my p***y.

I arch into him, a soft moan breaking from my throat as I grip his shoulders. He switches to the other side, his hand squeezing my hip to keep me anchored against his lap, giving me the same slow attention until my pulse is roaring in my ears.

A low, involuntary groan escapes his chest, his eyes closing for a second as he leans into the touch, feeling me squirm against him.

“Zara,” he rasps, his hands sliding up my thighs, his thumb gently slipping between my legs, finding the wet, aching heat waiting for him. He glides his thumb over my clit, my cunt lips, slow and steady, his breathing instantly turning ragged. “God, you’re so wet for me.”

“Locke, please,” I breathe, my head rolling back as a sharp surge of pleasure ripples through my core. “You feel so good.”

My hands grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as he works me, his thumb circling in a slow, relentless rhythm that makes my p***y pulse and ache.

He watches my face, his eyes fixed entirely on my expression, taking in every twitch, every shallow breath, every broken whisper that leaves my lips. He loves watching me undo. He loves knowing that he’s the one bringing me to the edge.

“Look at me, baby,” he commands softly, his thumb pressing a little firmer against my little button. “I need those beautiful black eyes staring at me, staring into my fucking soul.”

I open my eyes, my vision slightly blurred by the intensity of the sensation. His face is inches from mine, his jaw set, his eyes burning with a mixture of fierce devotion and raw, unadulterated need.

23

Chapter 118

Clam

want to feel you inside me,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss the corner of his jaw, my lips tracing down to i’s throat. “Fuck me now, Locke. Please.”

He doesn’t make me ask twice.

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