The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 71

Chapter 48-1

Zara

We stumble into the bathroom together, the door clicking shut behind us as the cool tile floor meets my bare feet and the air shifts from the bedroom’s warmth to something sharper, charged with anticipation.

Locke’s hands are already on me, his mouth taking mine in a hungry kiss that tastes like fire and need, his tongue sliding deep while his fingers tangle in my hair. I press closer, feeling the hard line of his body against mine, my breasts flattening against his chest as our breaths mingle hot and fast.

He breaks the kiss only long enough to reach for the walk-in shower faucet, twisting it on so water rushes out in a steady hiss, steam beginning to curl up and fog the mirror above the sink. The sound echoes around the massive bathroom, mingling with our ragged breathing.

He turns back to face me now, peels my shirt up and over my head, his eyes dark with hunger as they rake over my breasts, n*****s already tight from the sudden exposure and the promise of what’s coming.

He trails his lips down my neck, sucking lightly at the pulse point there before claiming my mouth again, hands working the clasp of my bra free with practiced ease.

The bra drops away, and he palms my breasts, thumbs circling my n*****s until I gasp into the kiss, my p***y throbbing with slick warmth between my legs.

I tug at his shirt in return, but he’s already stripping it off, revealing the hard planes of his tattooed chest, and the trail of dark hair leading down to the bulge straining against his jeans.

He steps back just enough to shove his own clothes down, c**k springing free, thick and flushed dark, a bead of precum glistening at the tip as he kicks everything aside. Then he’s on me again, lifting me onto the edge of the sink for another searing kiss, his hands roaming lower to hook into my jeans and slide them off along with my panties, the heat of his hard-on pressing against my stomach.

He extends his hand to me, tugs me off the counter. “Come here, baby. Let’s clean you up.”

We step together into the spray, the hot water cascading over our bodies and instantly soaking my hair as the grease from the garage clings stubbornly to my skin.

Locke reaches for the jasmine soap, lathering his hands with deliberate slowness before cupping my face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles over my cheeks and forehead to work away the grime, the slick suds mixing with the water that streams down my neck and between my breasts.

His touch is firm yet tender, fingers gliding along my jaw as he rinses me clean, his dark eyes locked on mine with a hunger that makes my pulse race, the steam thick around us like a private world where nothin g else exists but this building ache.

His huge hands move lower, soaping my breasts with broad strokes that linger on my n*****s, rolling and pinching them until they peak hard under his palms, sending sparks straight to my core where my p***y throbs with need. He works down my arms next, rinsing the soap away in long, soapy trails that turn into caresses, his body pressed close so I can feel the rigid length of his c**k brushing my thigh, water sluicing between us in hot rivulets.

The steam thickens, wrapping us in a private haze, and I arch into his touch, my p***y throbbing with need

as his hands dip lower, teasing along my ribs before he sinks to his knees right there on the shower floor.

Hlean back against the cool tile wall for support, my legs parting for him instinctively, his mouth finding my cunt with a low groan of satisfaction.

“I’m gonna eat you out, Zara,” he mutters against my soaked, gaping py lips. “You are so fucking deliciou s, baby… I just can’t get enough of how you taste.”

Locke’s tongue parts my folds in one long, wet stroke, lapping at my slick arousal with focused hunger as his hands grip my thighs to hold me steady.

He sucks my clit between his lips, flicking and circling it with expert pressure that draws a moan from deep in my throat, my fingers threading into his wet hair, the world narrowing to the heat of his tongue inside me and the way his eyes flick up to watch me unravel.

The water pounds over his shoulders and down my stomach as he devours me, tongue thrusting inside my entrance before returning to tease my swollen nub. The pleasure crests so sharply I can barely breathe, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough.

‘Please, I gasp, my voice ragged as the pleasure edges toward unbearable. “Please, fuck me. I can’t take it anymore. I need you inside me now – Locke, please.”

Comments

LUCK DRAW >

Vote