All Chapters of HIS FORBIDDEN TEMPTATION : Chapter 251 - Chapter 260

The soft sound of her breathing was the only thing in the room.I lay still, eyes open, staring at the ceiling that glowed faintly from the sliver of moonlight bleeding through the curtains. Emily’s head was tucked against my shoulder, her hair spilling over my chest like silk, her hand resting on my ribs as though she was holding me in place even in sleep.God, she was beautiful like this. Peaceful. Untouched by the chaos that was tearing into every corner of my mind.I turned my head just slightly, catching the delicate curve of her face, her lashes brushing against her cheeks, her lips parted just enough to let out those steady little breaths. She didn’t even try to be beautiful. She simply was.A man like me shouldn’t be allowed to have something this soft. This innocent.And yet here she was, in my arms, sleeping like I was her safe place.I couldn’t help myself—I leaned down and pressed the barest kiss to her temple. She shifted, sighing softly, but didn’t wake.For a moment I s

The sun was high by the time I arrived at the site, its warmth spilling across the unfinished walls of the hotel. The steel framework that had once looked like nothing more than a skeletal dream was now transformed—solid walls standing proud, glass gleaming in places where sunlight caught, the faint smell of fresh paint and polished wood filling the air.I exhaled, my chest swelling with something I hadn’t felt in days. Pride. Excitement. Relief.It was finally coming together.Walking across the marble-floored lobby, I trailed my fingertips along the cool stone of the walls, imagining how the chandeliers would catch the light, how the guests would stop and stare in awe. It was mine—every inch of it bore my fingerprints, my sleepless nights, my sacrifices.And I needed that today.I needed to bury myself in this, to let the chaos at home—Amanda, her return, Lorenzo’s tight jaw and haunted eyes—slip away. Here, I wasn’t the woman caught in the middle of a storm. Here, I was Emily. A wo

Lorenzo’s bloodied hand trembled in mine, his skin warm, slick with crimson, but all I could think about was holding him together. Holding us together. His outburst, the violence, the wall shattered by his fist—it had shaken me to my core, but right now, all I could see was the man beneath the rage. The man who had been hurt, broken, twisted by a past he never asked for. And still, somehow, he was mine. I tightened my grip on his wrist and whispered, “Come sit down. Let me bandage this.” For once, he didn’t argue. He didn’t resist. He just gave me a tired nod, his jaw still tight, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. His shoulders slumped, his body rigid, but his eyes never left me as I rushed to the cabinet, pulling out the first aid box. My heart hammered in my chest as I knelt in front of him, placing the box on the carpet. The sight of his knuckles made me wince—split open, raw, bloodied. It hurt to look at, as though the pain was mine. My stomach twisted with guilt and lov

The suitcases were already zipped shut, lined up neatly by the bedroom. Lorenzo was handling some matters before we leave, issuing instructions in that calm, commanding tone that made people scramble without question. I sat on the edge of the bed, tying the straps of my heels, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he spoke quietly into his phone, his jaw sharp, his expression unreadable.Maldives.The word pulsed in my head like a heartbeat. I still couldn’t believe it. A trip, a promise ring, a birthday I never could’ve dreamed of—and him. Always him.The driver loaded our bags into the car waiting in the driveway. Lorenzo took my hand and led me downstairs, his palm steady, firm, like even gravity obeyed him. He opened the door for me first, as always, helping me inside before slipping in beside me.As the car pulled away, I leaned against the window, my gaze idly following the blur of trees and the grand lines of the estate. That’s when I saw her.Amanda.She was standing at

The look in his eyes when I knelt between his legs was enough to undo me. Hunger. Possession. That sharp, almost feral edge of restraint about to snap. His shirt hung open, the crisp white fabric dampened by the humidity, clinging to the hard lines of his body. He was the kind of man who could command a room with silence alone, yet here he was—breathing hard, pupils blown wide, undone by me on my knees. I let my palms slide slowly up his thighs, savoring the way his muscles tensed under my touch. The air was thick, heavy with salt and heat and something far darker—the tension thrumming between us. “Emily…” His voice was rough, low, threaded with warning. My name on his tongue sent a shiver racing down my spine. “Shh,” I whispered, tracing my nails lightly over the seam of his trousers. “Let me.” The sharp inhale he made almost broke me. I loved that sound, the way it stripped away the control he wore like armor. Slowly, I tugged at his zipper, brushing my knuckles deliberately