The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 321

Chapter 157-1

The silence that follows is thick, warm, and heavy with absolute peace.

Clam

Inside the bedroom, the air ts warm, heavy with the scent of sex, heat, sweat, and the quiet, unshakeable reality of our presence.

Locke doesn’t shift away. He keeps his heavy weight draped over me, his heart hammering against my ribs in a slow, powerful rhythm that slowly settles down into a steady beat.

I lie beneath him, completely spent, my body limp and trembling faintly with residual pleasure. I keep my arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, my fingers lazily tracing the thick muscles of his back, feeling the tension that has gripped both of us for two weeks slowly melt away into the mattress.

Eventually, he lets out a long, deep sigh, rolling onto his side and taking me with him without breaking the connection between our bodies.

He wraps the heavy duvet over both of us, sealing us away from the cold room and the cold world outside. He hooks his long leg over mine, trapping me against his body, while one massive hand rests on my bare waist, his thumb sweeping over my skin in a slow, lazy rhythm.

“God, I missed you,” he murmurs. His eyes are half-closed, heavy with sleep, but his grip on me remains possessive and absolute. “Every night out there… all I could think about was getting back to this bed. Getting back to you. I drove for forty-eight hours straight, just to get back to you tonight.”

“I missed you too,” I whisper, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his stubbled jaw, tasting the faint salt on his skin. “This place is just too big for one person.”

He shifts his weight slightly, leaning down to trace a trail of lazy, lingering kisses along my jawline, down the sensitive skin of my neck, and over my collarbone. His c**k slips out of me, and I groan as a gush of cum and my own juices bathe my thighs.

He kisses me again, and there’s no rush now, no desperate violence driving us, just the quiet, sacred luxury of having all the time in the world.

I sigh against his mouth, shifting closer until there isn’t a shadow of space left between our bodies, tangling my fingers in his as he lazily deepens the kiss.

“You’re soft, baby,” he says. “So warm. Out there on the blacktop, everything feels like concrete and steel. I forget what it feels like to be human until I touch you.”

His hand trails upward, his palm flattening over the center of my chest, feeling the steady, rapid rhythm of my heartbeat under his fingers. He holds me like I’m his whole world, his long legs anchoring mine into the mattress, wrapping us together so tightly under the heavy duvet that I can’t distinguish where my skin ends and his begins.

We lie in the dark for a few quiet minutes, the steady rain soothing the lingering tension in the room. I feel him starting to drift off, his breathing slowing down, his heavy body relaxing into the mattress.

He looks so vulnerable like this, stripped of his cut, his weapons, and his armor, just a man who worked himself to the bone to get back to the woman he loves.

Chapter 157+

Craum

swallow hard, remembering the events of the morning when I was having coffee with Mayhem. The faint, persistent dizziness, the way the floor rushed up to meet me. I shift slightly in Locke’s hold, looking up at his profile.

He looks completely spent. The deep, bruised shadows beneath his eyes ate darker than I’ve ever seen them, his jaw heavy with dark stubble, making me think that he hasn’t shaved in well over a week.

He’s been awake for almost two days, riding hard through hostile territory just to get back to me. The sheer, bone-deep exhaustion radiating off his broad frame makes me hesitate, the words catching painfully in my throat.

Maybe I shouldn’t say anything tonight about seeing Doctor Mercer tomorrow. Maybe I should just let him sleep, let him rest, and tell him in the morning. I mean, there’s no point in pulling him back into the sharp, anxious light of reality when he’s finally relaxing.

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