The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 67

<Chapter 45-2-e

Chapter 45-2

Clam

“Still so responsive,” he murmurs, voice thick with wonder, and he gently twists the stiff peak while his hips give a lazy roll that grinds his c**k against my swollen insides. “Still creamy and wet… and somehow wanting more.”

The sensation builds faster than either of us expects, the steady pull and tease on my n****e igniting something raw and unexpected, my clit throbbing untouched as fresh slick coats him.

I whisper his name, shocked at the way my body tightens again, inner muscles clenching greedily around his c**k, and then it hits – a second orgasm rips through me without warning, my p***y spasming even as he grunts in surprise.

“Fuck, Zara… again? Just from playing with your n*****s?” he rasps, equal parts shocked and aroused, pressing closer so his chest molds to my back while the aftershocks leave me whimpering and trembling in his arms. “And so soon? Are you really the same girl who couldn’t cum twice in one night?”

I can’t speak even one word. My knees buckle, legs shaking violently while waves of pleasure crash over me, hot and overwhelming, leaving me sobbing and grinding back against him in helpless instinct.

Locke curses softly, his fingers still working my n****e as he feels every contraction squeezing him, his c**k thickening steadily inside me, the softening length swelling against my fluttering walls. I moan low in my throat, the stretch of him growing firmer, hotter, pushing deeper without any real thrust yet, and my hips roll back instinctively to feel every inch of that hardening heat.

“God, yes,” I breathe, pushing back to meet him, my body already chasing the next wave even as it trembles from the last. “I can cum for you again… I know I can.”

“Goddamn right you can,” he growls. “I want three orgasms from you against this wall, baby, and we don’t leave until that happens.”

The pace builds fast, his c**k now fully hard again and driving into me with deep, wet strokes. My hands brace harder against the wall as the rhythm builds, each thrust punching a moan from my throat, the thick drag of his c**k filling me completely.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he mutters, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles over my throbbing clit, the other keeping my n****e trapped between his fingers as he fucks me harder, faster, hips snapping forward to bury himself to the hilt every time. “You’re amazing, baby.”

Pleasure coils tight again in my belly, my cunt gripping him greedily, as his hard length splits me open over and over, the mingled heat of our cum making every glide slicker, filthier, until I’m sobbing his name and pushing back to meet every drive.

My third orgasm crashes through me, a sudden, shattering wave that has my cunt spasming wildly around him, as I come hard on his c**k. Locke curses, his rhythm faltering only for a moment before he slams in deep, grinding through my contractions as his own release hits. We stay locked together through it, his hips jerking in short, desperate thrusts while my body trembles and sucks every last drop from him, the shared intensity leaving us both breathless and clinging.

Before I can gather the energy to say even one word, Locke slips out of me, turns me to face him, and lifts me effortlessly off my feet. I laugh, the sound escaping before I can stop it, and instinctively loop my arms around his neck.

Chapter 45-2

“You know,” I murmur, “I’m perfectly capable of walking two whole feet to the sofa.”

“I’ve seen evidence to the contrary.”

“Oh?”

Clam

His grin is slow and entirely unapologetic. “I seem to remember somebody’s legs giving up on her after just one orgasm. What might happen to her after three?”

My face warms instantly. “Fair point, big guy.”

“I thought so.”

The sofa bed cushions sink beneath our combined weight, and I let out a surprised squeak before giggling into his chest. For a few seconds neither of us says anything, then Locke breaks the silence first.

“So.”

“So?” I rejoin.

His mouth brushes lightly against my hair. “I think you owe your shoebox apartment an apology. I think it’s pretty damn clear that you underestimated it.”

I smile. “You think?”

“It turns out,” he says with great seriousness. “That it has more than enough space, and that it was plenty big enough, despite what you said.”

“Yes,” I concede. “I was wrong about that.”

“You were wrong three times, baby.”

I giggle again. “Yet another fair point.”

“This is truly a historic occasion,” Locke says. “A Callahan admitting that they were wrong about something? Are pigs flying around out there, Zara?”

I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling as I settle back against him, his arms closing around me tighter, all without either of us thinking about it anymore. It strikes me then how natural this has all become. Not the flirting, not even the fucking, but this. The comfort and the laughter and the teasing. The simple, wonderful feeling of being exactly where I want to be.

With him.

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