All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Desire: Owned By Him : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The white yacht cruise was large and regal, gleaming under the sun. Its design was immaculate, specially manufactured with fine leather in the open cabin and lacquered woodwork that shone like polished mahogany.“Here,” Nat said, holding out his hand. “Let me help you aboard.” Zara took it, and he steadied her as she climbed onto the deck. He complimented her, noting her sexy, classy dress. The shiny silver gown was short enough to reveal her tempting thighs. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “You look… incredible,” he said softly, brushing a thumb across her hand. “Makes me feel like a king.”“For what’s a king without a queen?” he whispered, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, his warm lips brushing against her olive skin.Zara blushed. They settled near the open cabin and basked in the sunlight. A bottle of Pinot Noir rested on the table, its sleek, rimless design as luxurious as its price. The waiter served sushi on a tray.Zara leaned against the railing,

Zara decided to stop by the mall to buy groceries: ingredients to cook for her man. She moved through aisles and stalls, adding vegetables, snacks, spices, drinks, and sauces to her cart. There was a quiet satisfaction in her movements, the kind a woman felt when she was cherished and well provided for.She had never liked the idea of domestic confinement especially cooking for a man. It always felt cringe-worthy and overly patriarchal to her. She was a feminist. Yet being swept into a different world suspended in a reality shaped by the billionaire had softened her convictions. Her perspective had shifted in ways she hadn’t expected. She stopped by another section of the mall to purchase skincare, beauty products, and toiletries for the house. She swiped her card without hesitation. The total was high, absurdly high, but she didn’t bother to check. When she stopped caring about expenses, she couldn’t tell. Wealth had crept in quietly.After loading everything into the trunk of her c

In the morning, Zara woke up first, yawning as she slipped into her silk robe. Nat was still asleep, snoring lightly. She gently held his nostrils, and he stirred, stopped snoring. She prepared him an English breakfast—tea, eggs, toast, and baked beans. He was amused by how dutifully she played the role of a wife, even though they weren’t married yet.“He better act fast,” she muttered to herself, soliloquizing as she poured tea into the cup.“These fingers need new diamonds,” she said again with a smile, climbing upstairs.John and Zara exchanged morning greetings.“He slept here?” John asked, squinting.“Yes. Duh,” she replied.“Okay, Mrs. Wolfe,” he said teasingly, acknowledging her.“Hey, good morning,” Zara said as she woke Nat.He kissed her, trailing kisses delicately down her neck. She felt his warm, odorless morning breath against her skin.“Thank you,” he said, sipping his tea. “I’ll go shower.”He held her hand. “We’ll go together.”He fed her a bite of his toast, and soon

In her room, she guided Nat onto the bed. He sat down, staring at her as she began moving delicately and rhythmically, like a snake slithering through its prey, poised to strike. Her steps were sensual, and it only intensified the desire that reeled inside him. His trousers were now tight with an arrogant, uncontrollable boner. From the stereo, a Rihanna song played, echoing through the room.Nat bit his lips.She leaned toward him, as if to kiss him. He was ready, his eyes locked on her lips, but she paused just enough to notice his warm breath and then pulled back.She turned to the table by the door and reached for a bottle of wine and poured him a glass. Then she unwrapped a small package, careful to make sure he didn’t see the contents, and added it carefully to the wine. It was cocaine. They drank together. She watched him closely as he sipped.Nat was surprised at how easily he was drawn in. She was, after all a dynamite chic, magnetic as she was that regretful day at the clu

Alicia knew she couldn’t leak the sex tape, not yet. She hadn’t had enough fun to herself. She would begin with some preliminary threats and pricks of needle-pin starting with his mom, her first strike. Vivienne Wolfe—ash-haired and elegant, Vivienne Wolfe who cared so much about her fancy reputation and legacy, was one to be taken advantage of. She would expose Zara, drop some bombs like a flying bomber jet, strafing low to rain grenades here and there.She entered her house—Nat’s childhood home in Manhattan.“You asked to see?” was Vivienne Wolfe’s first statement, with no preliminary or introductory greeting.“Yes, Dame,” said Alicia. She sat primly on the couch, wearing a black jumpsuit and a Victorian hat on her head that covered half of her face slightly, her posture straight and firm, her back aching. Her dress revealed some patrician features.“Spill,” she said. “You know I don’t have time for your exhausting pretense,” Dame Vivienne said.She knew Alicia well, and her always