The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 259

Chapter 130-2

I pull at his shoulders, tugging him back up toward me. “Locke… lie down.”

He moves without a word, rolling onto his back beside me on the thick rug. His chest heaves, his abdomen slick with a fine sheen of sweat that catches the golden light of the flames.

I push myself up on shaky elbows, the rug whispering against my skin, and reach for him with trembling fingers that trace the hard line of his jaw.

“Your turn,” I say, voice hoarse from the moans he drew from me, and Locke’s eyes flash with understanding. “So relax, handsome.”

I shift onto my hands and knees, rising over him. I slide down the length of his body, my bare skin pressing against the hard plane of his thigh as I move down between his legs.

I wrap my hand around his shaft, feeling it pulse hot and heavy in my grip.

Locke’s jaw clenches tight, his knuckles turning white as his hands grip the thick wool of the rug beneath him. He watches me, his breath hitching as I lean forward, taking him into my mouth.

I drag my tongue along the underside of his huge c**k in one slow, deliberate stroke from base to crown, tasting the salt of him and breathing in the musky scent of his arousal mingled with woodsmoke.

I work him steadily, bobbing my head, the wet slide of my mouth and the subtle flex of his hips building a rhythm that makes my own neglected clit throb in sympathy.

His breathing grows ragged, muscles bunching under my free hand where it rests on his stomach, but just as his c**k twitches harder against my tongue I ease off, pressing a final, open-mouthed kiss to the head before pulling back.

His hips jerk off the rug, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. “Zara… fuck, baby…”

He reaches down, catching my arms, his grip firm as he pulls me back up his body.

He doesn’t want to finish like this; he wants to look into my eyes when the storm hits. I slide up over his chest, straddling his hips as I rise above him in the firelight.

The contrast between us is striking: his dark, heavily tattooed frame against my pale, flush skin, illuminated by the golden glow of the hearth. I rest my palms against his broad chest, feeling the wild, rapid pounding of his heart beneath my fingers.

Locke reaches up, his hands steady on my waist, helping me guide him in.

When I slowly lower myself onto him, taking him in completely, a sharp, breathless gasp tears from my throat. The heat is overwhelming, a sharp, exquisite fullness in my cunt makes the world spin for a fraction of a second.

Locke’s eyes fly open, dark-gray with pure, unadulterated passion, his hands digging into my hips as I fill the quiet room with a soft, helpless moan.

“Fuck me,” he commands, his voice thick and rough. “Make us cum, baby…”

1/3

Chapter 110-2

Hook down at him, locking my gaze onto his as begin to move.

Clam

Locke rises up on his elbows, watching me with an intensity that burns hotter than the fire beside us. His hands leave my waist to reach up, his thumb brushing over my n*****s as he drinks in the sight of me riding him.

“You’re incredible,” he rasps, his chest heaving under my palms as the tempo accelerates. “You are everything to me, Zara. Everything.”

“Then give it to me hard,” I whisper, my voice breaking as the coil tightens hard in my abdomen. “As hard as you can.”

He doesn’t hesitate. Locke shifts his weight, his broad hands gripping my hips tighter, driving himself upward to meet every slide of my body.

The room shrinks down to the sound of our breathing, the slap of skin against skin.

My head falls back, my breath coming in short, desperate sobs as the sensation spirals completely out of control and I start to cum. I ride him through the peak, my p***y muscles clenching tight around him as a wave of pure, shattering pleasure breaks over me. I cry his name out into the quiet room, my whole body shaking as the release crashes through my veins.

Locke lets out a dark, triumphant growl, his hips thrusting upward one last, powerful time as he follows me over the edge, cumming inside me as he holds me tight against his chest.

I collapse forward onto him, my heart hammering like a wild thing against his ribs, my breath ragged and hot against his neck. Locke’s arms wrap around me immediately, burying me in his heat, his hands smoothing down my trembling back as the waves slowly subside.

He shifts us slightly without breaking the seal of our bodies, rolling until he’s resting on his side and pulling me flush against him. His heavy thigh slides over mine, locking me to his chest, shielding me completely from the cool air hovering just outside the hearth’s radius.

“I’ve got you,” he rumbles against my temple, his rough lips pressing a long, slow kiss into my hair. “I’ve got you, baby.”

I close my eyes, listening to the gradual slowdown of his pulse beneath my cheek.

The contrast is staggering. The sheer, lethal violence he’s capable of projecting to the rest of the world versus the absolute, fragile gentleness he holds me with right here. He rests his hand over the small of my back, his thumb tracing tiny, reassuring circles into my skin, soothing the lingering tremors in my muscles.

A single log breaks in the grate, sending a soft cascade of bright golden sparks bouncing against the heavy iron screen. The smell of burning oak and sweet pine fills the air, mingling with the scent of sex, smoke, and snow.

It’s the scent of peace and safety.

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