The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 72

<Chapter 482.

Chapter 48-2

Clams

He rises with a growl and in one fluid motion, water streaming down his chest and over the rigid length of his c**k, and claims my mouth in a bruising kiss that tastes of my own honeyed arousal. His tongue slides against mine hungrily as he grips my thigh, lifting and pinning my leg high against the slick tile wall, opening me wide for him.

The head of his c**k nudges at my entrance, thick and insistent, before he pushes inside in one deep thrust that stretches me around him, filling my py completely as I cry out into his kiss.

His hand braces my thigh open while the other slams flat against the wall beside my head for leverage, and then he’s pounding into me, hard and relentless, each thrust driving me back against the cool tiles. My breasts press to his chest with every slam of his hips, n*****s dragging against his skin, and the wet slap of flesh echoes in the steam-filled space.

He kisses me fiercely between thrusts, teeth grazing my lower lip, his c**k hitting that perfect spot inside me over and over until the coil inside me snaps. Pleasure crashes through me in pulsing waves, my nails digging into his shoulders, my cunt clenching tight around him as I moan his name, thighs shaking, the emotional intensity of it all – his raw need, our shared hunger – binding us tighter with every frantic, grinding movement.

His rhythm pauses for only a heartbeat as my climax ripples around him, then surges back harder, his hips driving upward with raw urgency that pins me tighter to the slick tiles. I feel the tension in him, the way his muscles bunch under my hands, his breaths turning ragged against my mouth as he chases his own release.

Locke groans low and broken into our kiss, and with one final, powerful thrust that literally lifts me off my feet, he buries himself to the hilt, his release surging hot and thick in pulsing jets that flood my cunt, filling me completely as his body shudders. His forehead presses to mine, eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, and I cling to him through it, feeling the steady throb of his heartbeat syncing with my own.

He stays buried deep even as the orgasm fades, his grip gentling on my thigh while our breaths slow in the steam-filled air. The intimacy lingers, his c**k softening inside me as he nuzzles my neck with soft kisses that contrast the earlier frenzy, whispering my name like a promise.

I wrap my arms around his waist, savoring the weight of him and the quiet connection that settles over us like the warm spray, our bodies still locked together in the afterglow. Neither of us speaks. We don’t seem to need to.

Eventually, he leans down and brushes the gentlest kiss across my lips, before resting his forehead against mine.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes. Mostly.”

His thumb strokes slowly across my hip, patient enough to wait for whatever comes next.

“I keep forgetting,” I say.

“About tomorrow?”

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Chapter 482-

Yes. I clear my throat. “About tomorrow.”

The word hangs between us.

Chemotherapy. Neither of us needs to say it aloud.

His arms tighten around me just a fraction. “I know.”

For a moment, I simply stand there, letting the warmth of the shower wash over us, my cheek resting against his shoulder. Suddenly the happiness of the day feels fragile somehow, as though tomorrow is standing just outside the bathroom door waiting for us both.

‘I don’t want to be sick,” I admit so quietly that I’m not even sure I’ve spoken.

‘I know, Zara.”

‘I’m scared that they didn’t get it all out with surgery, and that this whole nightmare is just beginning.”

‘I know that too.”

He doesn’t tell me not to be scared or worried, and he doesn’t tell me everything will definitely be fine. nstead, he tips my chin gently upward until I’m looking at him again.

‘We’re going to get through tomorrow.” His gray eyes don’t waver. “One hour at a time.”

‘I believe you.”

Locke smiles softly and steals one more quick kiss. “But before we kick cancer’s ass…”

blink. “Yes?”

…you need to eat something.”

Despite everything, I laugh.

‘I’m serious,” he says.

‘I know you are.”

‘So you’re going to eat some delicious Thai food, and after that… He reaches over to switch off the shower. “I’m putting you to bed ridiculously early. Like, at eight o’clock.”

groan dramatically. “I’m not five years old.”

Clem

“No.” He wraps a towel around my shoulders before pulling me gently into another hug. “But tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

I close my eyes against his chest. “Okay.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers against my hair. “Always.”

Five simple words. No promises he can’t make, no impossible guarantees. Just him, just him here with me.

And somehow, standing wrapped in his arms while the last of the steam drifts lazily around us, that’s enough to make tomorrow feel just a little less frightening.

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