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160: Crawl. šš„
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2025-11-06 17:09:44
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Claimed By The Tyrant Brother Ā Ā Ā ā¤ļøAuthorās Appreciation Message.ā¤ļø
To every reader who stayed with Delilah and Thorne until the very last page, thank you.Thank you for feeling every heartbreak, every betrayal, every victory, and every moment of chaos with them.Thank you for screaming at their stubbornness, swooning over their intensity, and holding your breath through every twist.Writing this story has been a storm it's been dark, raw, messy, and painfully humanāand knowing that you chose to walk through that storm with me means more than words can say.Your comments, your reactions, your thoughts, your patience, your love for these characters, everything kept me going on days when the story felt too heavy to carry alone. On days when it seemed like no one was reading, when the views were low, and the motivation was slipping, your support reminded me why I write.Delilah and Thorne were never meant to be simple. They were meant to feel real. And the fact that you embraced them, flaws and all, is a gift I do not take lightly.Thank you for readi
Claimed By The Tyrant Brother Ā Ā Ā 194: The End That Feels Like Home; Until Next Time. ā¤ļø
Delilahās POV āActually, let me pleasure you." A groan ripped from Thorneās throat as my lips stretched around him. God, he was so big. The taste of him, salty and musky and uniquely Thorne, flooded my senses. I relaxed my jaw, taking him deeper until the tip hit the back of my throat, making me gag softly. His fingers threaded through my hair, not forcing, but guiding, setting a rhythm that was both demanding and reverent. āThatās it,ā he rasped, his voice strained. āTake it all, Delilah. Fuck, your mouth is heaven.ā Saliva dripped down my chin, a messy, erotic proof of my effort. I looked up at him through my lashes, seeing the raw hunger etched on his face, the corded muscles in his neck tight with restraint. The distant sound of the wedding band playing a cheerful tune was a bizarre soundtrack to this act of pure debauchery. His hips gave a slight, involuntary thrust and he groaned again, low and deep. āBetter than any fucking wedding cake.ā Before I could proc
Claimed By The Tyrant Brother Ā Ā Ā 193: Obeying His Orders. š„š
Delilahās POV The champagne flute felt cool and slippery in my hand, a stark contrast to the sudden, searing heat that flared across my cheeks. Aunt Vivian was mid-sentence, regaling me with a story about her prize-winning roses, but her words blurred into a distant hum. The vibration against my thigh was a silent, seismic event. I knew. Even before I discreetly slid my clutch onto my lap and peeked inside, I knew it was him. The screen glowed: Thorne. >Come upstairs. Now. My heart skipped so violently it nearly knocked the air out of me. Heat rushed up my neck, memories sparking like wildfire, dark corridors, whispered words, the way his voice rumbled. It had been months since weād done something reckless, something us, and the prospect of doing it nearly made me lose my mind with desire. Aunt Vivian noticed the faint tremor in my hand. āYou alright, sweetheart? You look flushed.ā My breath hitched. God. A flood of memories, of his hands, his mouth, the low growl of his v
Claimed By The Tyrant Brother Ā Ā Ā 192: Day Made of Second Chances.
Delilahās POV The procession began. The soft murmur of the guests hushed as the bridal party moved down the aisle. Each step felt surrealāthe polished wood beneath my heels, the muted smiles of friends and family. I kept my eyes straight ahead, catching fleeting glimpses of Thorne out of the corner of my vision. He gave me another sly look and a tilt of his head that made my stomach drop. I had to bite back a laugh. Finally, it was Naomiās turn. She walked slowly, radiant even in her nerves, her hand clutching Loganās. I couldnāt help but smile at how gentle and loving he was, squeezing her hand reassuringly. āRelax, you look amazing, but you know that, right?ā he whispered, and she bit her lip, trying to hide a grin. āI do, and donāt start with the teasing!ā she whispered back, though her cheeks were pink, and I could see the tremble in her lip. Awwnn, they looked so adorable together. As the priestāor officiant, I corrected myself mentallyāguided them through the ceremony, I
Claimed By The Tyrant Brother Ā Ā Ā 191: Ric's First Wedding Gift.
Delilahās POV (A YEAR LATER) āNo! Itās not perfect!ā I heard the shrill wail coming from the brideās room and rolled my eyes. Of course. Naomi. My sweet, jittery, hormonal Naomi, five months pregnant and already unraveling at the seams. I could practically hear the chaos echoing from behind the closed door. I pushed it open and stepped in, Alaric clutched in my arms. Seven months old and already testing my patience by pulling fistfuls of my hair with each delighted squeal. āOuch! Ric! Seriously, little man,ā I groaned, trying to adjust him so he wasnāt clawing my scalp. Naomi was perched on the edge of a chair, face streaked with tears and mascara, surrounded by a dozen flustered maids attempting to calm her down, smooth out fabric, and brush her hair into something that, apparently, was impossible. āOh, Delilah! Thank God youāre here,ā Naomi gasped, clutching at me as though I held the key to her sanity. āThese ladiesā¦ they donāt understand what I want! I donāt even understand
Claimed By The Tyrant Brother Ā Ā Ā 190: Our Madness In The Rain.
Delilahās POV I let out a shaky laugh, the sound breaking against the rain, but it was lighter this time. My body relaxed against him, and I finally allowed myself to breathe. āIā¦ I want to believe that,ā I murmured, voice muffled against his chest. He kissed the top of my head, letting me rest there, soaking wet and trembling, but somehow safe. āYou are that,ā he said softly, and I could feel every word in my chest. āIāll remind you every day if you forget. Weāll face this together. You donāt have to carry a single thing alone ever again.ā The rain hammered down on us like a thousand tiny fists, drenching every inch of my body as Thorne and I hurried along the slick sidewalk. Because of the rain, the fabric clung to my skin like a second layer, translucent and revealing the outline of my hardening nipples. Water cascaded over my face, mixing with the mascara that must have been running in black streaks down my cheeks, but I didn't care. Thorne's hand gripped mine tightly
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