All Chapters of Bred By My Billionaire Boss: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

~ Stephano The next morning, she was already at the little table when I came out of the bathroom, quiet, legs crossed, that fucking silk nightgown clinging to her like a second skin. The same one she wore the first night we got here. I knew the damn thing by heart now. I could trace every inch of her thighs with my eyes closed. Knew exactly where the fabric ended and the curve of her ass began.And she wore it again. This morning. Just like that. Like it was laundry day and she didn’t know she was driving me out of my fucking mind.I had a towel slung low on my hips, barely tied, still damp from the shower. I wasn’t even fully dry. I didn't have the patience. I paused in the doorway and watched her take a bite of mango. Mango. A messy one too. Juicy, golden and sliced thick. She was licking her fingers, soft, slow, innocent as hell, and I swear to God, my cock twitched under the towel.I gritted my teeth.She wasn’t even trying to be sexy. That was the problem. If she was trying, I c

CamillaI cursed under my breath, thrashing against his grip, but he only tightened his hold on my wrists, pinning them together as if they belonged there, trapped. My silk dress bunched, his hand tugging at it until the thin fabric slipped and my chest met the freezing glass. The cold shot through me, so sharp it forced a moan from my lips I instantly regretted.“Shut up,” I hissed at myself, clenching my jaw. But the harder I tried to stay composed, the more my body betrayed me. The chill of the glass on my skin, the warmth of his chest against my back, the absolute command in his movements, it was too much, too consuming.“Look at you,” he whispered against my ear, his breath hot, wicked. “You hate me, but your body…” He dragged the words out like a curse. “Your body tells me the truth.”I shook my head violently, the silk of my hair sticking to the glass. “You’re wrong. I hate you.”“Then hate me,” he growled. “Hate me harder. I’ll take every ounce of it.”My body quivered as his

~ Stephano Easing back into work after that trip was hell. Hell with a capital H, the kind of hell you didn’t get out of by mere productivity or by pretending to be indifferent. I kept asking myself the question that stupid, needy women asked, the one I swore I would never let slip into my own mind: What are we?I hated that question. Hated it because it made my blood thrum in a way that had nothing to do with work, nothing to do with logic. Who is Camilla to me? What was she doing to me? I had no answer. Hell, I didn’t even want to answer. And yet, there it was, buzzing in my brain like an uninvited mosquito, the irritating kind that keeps you awake all night.Why the fuck did this even have to be a thing? Why couldn’t it just be what it was before what it should have been, just pure, filthy, unadulterated fucking? Just a few hours, a few minutes, of her body pressed against mine. Nothing more. Simple. Clean. Satisfying. But no. Of course, no. It couldn’t be that easy. Not with me.

~ CamillaI don’t care.I don’t care.I do not care.The words left my lips in a sharp whisper, the same way you mutter prayers you don’t really believe in but desperately hope will stick. I walked briskly down the hall, heels clicking too loud, echoing back at me like mocking laughter. My chest felt tight, my throat burned, and still, still, I forced the mantra out. I don’t care. I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants. It’s none of my business. It shouldn’t matter to me.But why did it matter? Why did my chest feel like someone had plunged their hand into it and squeezed until my ribs cracked? Why did my lungs struggle for air, dragging in ragged breaths as though even oxygen had suddenly become too heavy for me?I pushed into the bathroom, locked the door behind me, and pressed my palms flat against the sink. The mirror stared back at me, cruel, merciless, unforgiving. My face looked too pale, too brittle, my eyes already glassy with tears I refused to admit were mine.“I do

She cried out, a broken sound as I hit a spot deep inside her that made her legs buckle. "No!" she finally screamed, the word torn from her. "No, I didn't! Okay? Are you happy? I didn't!"The relief was instantaneous. The anger didn't vanish, but it shifted, morphing into something more intense. My thrusts became less about punishment and more about claim."Good," I breathed into her skin, my pace never faltering. "Because this is mine. This tight, wet fucking cunt is mine. And you're going to remember that. You're going to remember it every time you look at him.”The only sound in the cramped, dim storage room was the slap of my skin against hers, the rustle of cardboard boxes we’d knocked over, and her choked, broken whimpers. I had her bent over a stack of paper reams, my hand splayed across the small of her back, pinning her down. “You…” Thrust. “…belong…” Thrust. “…to me.” A deep, grinding slam that made her cry out.Her body was slick with sweat, her skin flushed. She was so ti