The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 268

Chapter 134-2

He rubs his heavy thumbs gently over my cheekbones, wiping away the faint, phantom trace of an old, forgotten memory.

Clair

“But he’s done, Zara,” Locke says quietly. “His time in your life is completely over. He will never touch you, speak to you, or hurt you again.”

“My time is now,” I whisper back. “And it’s with you.”

“Does that make it our time?”

“You know it, handsome.”

Locke leans down, closing the small distance between us, and presses his mouth firmly to mine in a deep, fierce, and utterly possessive kiss that wipes away every lingering shadow of my past.

I let out a soft, breathless gasp against his lips, my hands sliding up his broad, warm chest so my fingers can tangle in the hair curling at the nape of his neck.

When he finally pulls back a fraction of an inch, his eyes are stormy with a sudden, roaring hunger that makes my pulse leap into my throat.

“You’re warm, baby,” he says.

“It’s the fire,” I say, my heart pounding a wild, exhilarating beat against my ribs as I look into his darkened

gaze.

“It’s not the fire,” Locke growls low in his chest, his voice rough and heavy with intent.

He shifts his weight with effortless power, sliding his broad arm behind my back to lift me easily onto his lap before the flickering golden light of the hearth. The soft fleece blanket slips from my shoulders, falling away completely onto the sheepskin rug beneath us.

Locke’s gaze travels down my bare shoulders, taking in the naked curves of my body in the firelight.

His large hands wrap around my waist, calloused thumbs tracing the flare of my hips with slow, deliberate pressure that sends tiny embers of heat racing across my skin.

He pulls me flush against the massive, hard plane of his chest. When his mouth drops to the sensitive skin of my neck, kissing a burning path along my collarbone, I arch into his touch with a soft, helpless moan.

His lips are soft yet possessive, lingering over the pulse beating wildly at the base of my throat, drinking in the sound of my breath catching.

His fingers gently tilt my head back so I have no choice but to look directly into the intense depth of his

eyes.

“Look at me, Zara,” he says, his voice thick with a reverence so intense it makes my chest ache in the most beautiful way. “You belong right here. With me. Always.”

“Locke…” I murmur, my voice catching in my throat as he rolls us carefully onto the plush rug, taking my full weight on his elbows without letting a single second of contact break between our bodies. “I love you.”

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