A Contract Marriage With The Billionaire’s Mad Son

Once upon a time on a crisp November morning, late summer in Rio Hondo, at the Fanny’s mansion, bottles of beer, rum and cigars were seen littered all over the table. And carelessly scattered on the floor were G-string, pants, sleeves and a polka-dotted dress. In the other corner the bed was creaking hugely under the weight of two figures. A sonorous moan blared and hung over them. Like a trumpet, the female voice amplified the most out of the window, while the male voice groaned and grunted at a terribly disturbing way.

Opula was bouncing and having her fragile, slender waist astride the legs of Ken, whose mouth was gaping, and hands infinitely stroking and fondling her fragile small breasts.

“Y – you are not doing badly today,” Ken stuttered under her weight and squeezed her tapering waist.

She shut her eyes and breathed hard. “Yesterday’s sex was horrendous,” she sounded through a moan and clenched her teeth to pound harder. “I am going to give it to you hot!” she managed to say in a breath.

Neither of them spoke again. A hush of silence would have hung over them except for the bed that creaked under their weight and the slap-slap sound of her thighs against his.

Hastily, Ken swung her over the bed and got on top of her. He pinned her soft palms to the bedspread, shot his groovy eyes into hers and slammed a little more into her, before he began to jerk uncontrollably.

“Oh, not yet,” she nagged, and dragged a furrowed brow while she vibrated under him.

Ken gripped her blonde, lush hair, gritted, and frowned at her face while he jerked without end. His body stilled and suddenly relaxed, before his face fell on her neck and started burning her with his warm breath.

She pushed him aside.

“You are a two-second husband. You are horrible in bed,” she cursed, and grabbed the duvet to cover her nakedness. She sighed.

Ken held his breath.

“This is not an orgy. I am having my wife,” he groaned and stroked his ponytail.

He was the husband to Opula, the first daughter of the Fanny’s. Ken was tall, well-built with strong facial features. He was a live-in husband, just like the other husbands, who found no fault in being taken care of by their billionaire father-in-law.

“Same story every day. Opula is not enjoying it anymore,” she glowered, snorted, nagged and added, “You are always impossible.” Her nostrils flared and eyes lined with insatiability.

Ken’s jaw sagged in rage. He didn’t want to tell her he found it awkward. But he was going to say his fury in any way he could.

“Well, I am not as impossible as your mad brother who set my most expensive tuxedo on fire,” he replied without remorse.

Her eyes flinted with anger and her face went crimson, before her nose wrinkled. “How dare you call my brother mad!” she snapped and widened her gaze at him.

He sat up and scoffed, “But he …..” Ken couldn’t complete his grievance.

Pa!

A slap interposed him, and he paused, lowered his gaze, brought his palms on his chin to nurse his pain.

She crawled out of bed, advanced to the door and yanked it open.

“Leave my room this minute!” she ordered and watched as Ken’s hand nursed his itchy cheeks.

“You raised your hands on me?” He sounded calm, and stared at her with his watery green eyes burning with fury.

“And I will do it over and over again if you ever call my brother mad and insult him the way you just did!” she echoed.

“But he is mad, and he ruined my tuxedo,” he barked and slammed his hand on the bed in revenge.

His response infuriated her even the more.

“You dumb ass grouch! Leave my now!” she commanded yet again and pointed at the door impatiently.

“Your room?” he asked with a shrug.

“Yes, my room. This mansion belongs to my father, who feeds you, shelters you and clothes you. Now leave!” She gestured at the door in a final disposition.

Feeling disgruntled, Ken’s lips curled as he squeezed into his pair of pants, grabbed his shirt and left like thunder.

The door slammed!

Meet Opula, the eldest daughter of the richest man in Rio Hondo. She was arrogant, eclectic, with a thin body. Her hair was brunette and her height towering. And not only was she overprotective, but also believed in respect, loyalty and dominance. Her family was her priority. Her prodigy, who called her only brother mad and maltreated him, got bullied and hated for life. Just as she believed in the affluence and wealth of her father, she certainly believed someday she would be made heiress to the multibillion dollar Fanny Group, since their only heir had lost his sanity.

With his hand still on his cheeks, and his expression hardened, Ken walked past a couple of maids, sneered and pushed away the ones that came in his way and barged into his room.

Once he was out of sight, Salsa, the chief maid of the Fanny’s, laughed tauntingly as she tucked to the corner with the rest of the maids.

“What could be the problem now?” she asked a junior maid who peered at her for gossip.

“I overheard a sensual moan from their room …” Another maid interrupted, “I think he got bashed for disappointing Opula in bed again,” she mumbled, gagging her mouth with her hands as she glared around for any onlooker.

Salsa’s finger was on her lips. “Shhh!” She glared around before adding, “Return to your duty post,” she ordered.

They dispersed, and their high-heels knocked innumerably on the floor as they left.

Salsa was about to advance to Opula’s chamber, when Opula’s worried, feline face came through the door.

“Get Brian ready for dinner with my father. Make sure he is bound hands and feet,” her voice beamed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Salsa responded, bowed and left to do her bidding.

At a later time, Salsa ran back to Opula’s room and was howling deep down her lungs.

“What is the problem?” Opula queried, and shot her oval disturbing looks at her. “Chin up and talk to me!” she barked. “What is the problem?”

Salsa was huffing and puffing to say a word.

“What is it? Speak!” Opula snapped yet further.

Salsa flinched.

“I – I went to Brian’s room, and he wasn’t in. I searched the whole mansion and couldn’t find him. I could only find his clothes in the garden. I think he has gone out to the street as usual,” She wailed as she raised the clothes.

“Why did you leave someone kept under your care? Now listen, you dope,” she gripped her ears and squeezed them.

Salsa grinned in pain.

“If anything should happen to my brother, you are as good as dead. Go and find him now!”she beamed.