All Chapters of Revenge On My Ex-husband With His Ruthless Mafia Brother : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Delilah’s POV I gasped, the moan ripping out of me before I could bite it back, arching helplessly into the sensation. The heat of his eyes devoured me as drops slid down my curves, and when his mouth followed the trail, lapping the tequila from my skin like a starving man, my body shattered into wild, reckless pleasure. Every lick was fire, every drag of his tongue claimed me deeper, and the taste of him mixed with the tequila turned me delirious, addicted, and gone. "Urg, fûck" he groaned lustfully, stopping abruptly. I was upright at first, almost seated in the cold bath, the water lapping at my skin. But he wasn’t content with that, as he used his arms to pin me, forcing me lower, lower, until my back arched and my face dipped into the water I gasped against the liquid, bubbles rushing from my mouth, the world muffled and distorted. My chest burned for air, but the fire in my body only grew sharper as his mouth claimed my breasts, still sucking the tequila off my titties,

Delilah’s POVThe first thing I felt was heat, not the sunlight filtering through the curtains, but the heavy, dark, unblinking heat of eyes on me. I blinked awake slowly, my body still deliciously languid from the night before. My thighs pressed together at the memory, a flush rushing up my neck. Thorne had wrecked me without even… without even taking me fully. Just his mouth, his hands, his voice, God, his voice. And wasn't even the main deal but it was enough to trap me into a senseless vortex of lust and desire.I shifted, pushing the sheets down, and that’s when I saw him, sitting in the armchair like some predator with nowhere else to be. My pulse tripped. “You’re… watching me sleep?” I muttered, my voice still hoarse from the night.His mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “You talk in your sleep,” he said. His tone was sinfully deep, like he was replaying every word in his head.My brows pulled together. “What did I say?”He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “You begged me to p

Naomi’s POVOkay, I can do this. I exhaled deeply, willing my nerves to settle as I stepped into the hangar for training. God, I still can’t believe how ridiculous I acted the first time he said hi at the gym. I’d stolen his number, called him obsessively, and the moment I introduced myself on that first call… he never picked up againI now understood. Dean Maddox wanted nothing to do with his best friend's daughter. And honestly, I should too.But the moment I stepped into the hangar, my soul practically bolted from body as I came face to face with Dean Maddox.Great, so much for me trying to act unbothered and unaffected.And he was even…He was shirtless.Sunlight slanted through the high glass panes above, washing over his skin and every infuriatingly perfect muscle in his back as he bent over the side of a gleaming black helicopter. His forearms flexed as he worked a wrench, veins standing out, sweat glistening down his spine in a slow, distracting trail. And his tattoos were fu

Thorne’s POV The hotel suite reeked of sex and danger, just like Marcella Marsetti. Blood-red sheets covered the bed, and the floor-to-ceiling curtains blocked out the city lights, wrapping the room in a low, seductive glow. I’d been here before — not this exact room, but this exact situation. A dangerous woman with a dangerous name, thinking she could have me wrapped around her finger because her last name was enough to make men bow. But she wasn’t used to me. The door opened, and Marcella walked in, draped in a satin-red gown that hugged every curve like it had been sewn onto her skin. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders, lips painted the same crimson shade as her dress. I finally agreed to see her. She has no idea what's coming. “I’m glad you came,” she breathed, stepping inside. “God, I’ve missed you.” I leaned back in the chair, a knife in one hand, spinning it lazily by the handle. “You always this dramatic, Marsetti?” She smirked, coming closer. “I love you so much,

Delilah’s POVI stepped out of the bathroom, steam still curling off my damp skin, towel twisted around my hair. The scent of lavender soap lingered in the air. My eyes drifted to the shelf by my bed, to the one picture frame I could never move without my chest tightening.I picked it up. It was Mom — smiling, eyes lit up in that way they only were when it was just the two of us. She had her arm wrapped tight around me, both of us squinting into the sun. That day had been perfect. She was so perfect.“I miss you,” I whispered, my thumb brushing over the glass. My voice cracked without warning as I walked out of the room.She’d been my best friend and my anchor. And when she died… everything tilted. Aunt Vivian took me in, but it wasn’t the same. Vivian’s house always felt like I was borrowing space, although she was so sweet and kind to me, but I wanted my mom, only. I set the picture back down, but another one caught my eye. It was tucked behind an old stack of books, half-hidden.C