The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 42

Chapter 32-2

“Look at you,” I say, my voice rough with need as I drag the fabric slowly over her curves, patting and stroking in equal measure. Hér perfect breasts heave with each breath, n*****s tight and rosy from the heat and my earlier touches. I cup them through the towel, thumbs circling the stiff peaks before letting the cloth drop lower. “You’re still turned on.”

I lean in, pressing my mouth to one rosy n****e, tongue flicking out to taste the lingering bathwater mixed with her skin. I suck gently at first then harder, teeth lightly grazing as my fingers tug the other n****e. She gasps, and I feel my c**k twitch hard against her, still hard from her writhing against me in the water.

Dropping to my knees on the cool tile, I continue drying her, avoiding her bruised, grazed flesh, the towel sliding down her delicate belly to her hips, then parting her thighs with deliberate pressure. Her p***y is swollen and open, slick not just from the bath, but from how beautifully she clenched around my fingers earlier, her clit peeking out pink and sensitive.

“So fucking responsive,” I growl, spreading her p***y lips with my thumbs to expose her fully. I tease her, circling with one finger, pressing just enough to make her hips buck without giving her full friction, watching her thighs tremble.

“This clit is so damn needy, isn’t it, baby? You came so hard for me already, but I think you want more.”

“Oh, God, Locke,” she moans, twisting away slightly. “I’m still too sensitive.”

“And?”

“And I never cum twice in one night. It’s impossible for me, so don’t even try.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Zara.”

“What?”

“Not tonight, I get that,” I say. “But mark my words: I’m going to make you cum more than once at some point. That ain’t even a promise, baby, it’s a guarantee.”

She closes her eyes. “Why do I believe you?”

“Because,” I say, getting to my feet again. “I’m never going to lie to you.”

“Locke?” She opens her eyes again, and I see worry in those molten, heated depths. “Can I ask you something? About tonight?”

“Of course you can, you can ask me anything. What is it?”

“Well – what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes.” She gestures at my hard-on, which has slightly lessened in the past couple of minutes, but not much, and which is clearly visible through the towel wrapped around my waist. “I mean – you made me cum, but I haven’t – erm – returned the favor.”

“That’s fine.”

13

Chapter 12-2

His?”

Yep.

“You sure? You don’t think I’m-I’m leading you on? Playing games?

“No. Not for one damn second.”

“OK.”

I can tell that she still feels unsure, so I decide to tease her a bit to set her at ease.

Claim

“Zara, you’ve got at least three years of sexual tension all pent-up in that delectable little body. I think we can make you the priority for a while. I mean, you might actually detonate if we don’t get some orgasms out of you, huh?”

She stares at me, her lush mouth a bit open in shock, and then she bursts into laughter. It’s one of the best sounds that I’ve heard, this woman laughing, and I decide here and now to make her happy every chance I

get.

“Yeah,” she manages between giggles. “I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” I say. “Forever and always.”

“Huh. We’ll see about that, big guy.”

I pick her up, carry her into the only other room in this place, and right away, I feel at complete and utter peace. The lamps cast a warm golden glow across the room, softening the shadows. Rain taps against the window, steady as a heartbeat.

I lower her carefully onto the edge of the sofa bed, then grab a second towel from the bathroom. Gently, I dry her gorgeous hair, and I retrieve my t-shirt for her to sleep in. I give her four painkillers, then sit her at the table with a cup of tea.

She watches me lower the sofa to a bed, then make it up with clean sheets, fresh pillow cases, and a new duvet cover.

“You know,” she says, sipping the tea. “You’re actually much nicer than people led me to believe.”

I bark out a startled laugh. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“How do you figure that?”

“You lifted me out of the tub.”

“You could barely stand without keeling over.”

“You carried me from the bathroom.”

“You could barely walk without passing out.”

A pause. Then:

2/3

Slow dried my hair.”

should have left in dripping everywhere

“You absolutely should have?

Another pause. Then her voice softens. Thank you, Locke. For answering my call, and for the Chinese food, and for showing me that I’m not broken after three years of feeling so damn ugly and undesirable.”

The simple sincerity of the words catches me off guard and I look over at her again, see that she’s fighting sleep. Her eyes are half closed, and she’s slumping in her chair.

My chest aches unexpectedly at her vulnerability, and I walk over and brush a wayward dark curl away from her sweet face. “You don’t ever have to thank me for any of that, Zara?”

“No?”

“No.” I pull her to her feet, supporting her flagging strength against my body. “Now come on. It’s bed time.”

“Are you sleeping in the bathtub?

“No way” I put her down on the crisp sheets. I’m sleeping with you, baby.”

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