All Chapters of The Billionaire's Love Game: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Amara Villafuerte POV It’s late morning when I wake up, and as the sun creeps through the window and warms my face, I smile to myself. I can’t pinpoint when everything changed, but what I do know is that nothing can ever go back to being normal. Is it wrong that I don’t miss my father? That the only person I want to be around is Manfred? Even if it is, I don’t think I care. I like the idea of the life he has planned for us. The door knocks and when I call whoever it is in, Daniel smiles at me politely, as he places a tray of food on the bed. “So, you’re my servant, as well as my protector, now?” I sit up, making sure I’m covered by the blanket as I examine what's been sent up for me. “Manfred figured you might want to stay in bed today, he’s had to leave town. He will be back tomorrow evening.” “He never told me.” I frown when I realize how much that hurts. “You will learn that Manfred can be spontaneous.” He widens his eyes and prepares to leave. “Wait.” I stop him. “What else c

Amara Villafuerte POV “You look pretty today.” Manfred stares at me as he does up the cuffs of his shirt. It’s amazing what a compliment from him can do. It puts an instant smile on my face and makes my stomach flip, especially when he sits on the mattress next to where I’m laid and rests his hand on the other side of my body. “Your period is due,” he whispers, leaning over my body, so his breath tickles my ear. “How do you…?” I give up asking. I would say I’m surprised but nothing about this man shocks me, anymore. “I have an app on my phone.” Manfred kisses my cheek before standing back up and lifting his suit jacket from the end of the bed. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up. Women are late on their periods all the time. I’ve never really kept track of mine.” I shrug, starting to feel a little pressured. I know how disappointed Manfred was last month when I came on my period, he didn’t speak, touch or look at me for five days. I don’t know how I’ll cope if he does that to me, agai

TWO MONTHS LATER Manfred Valderrama POV “Why are you so tense? Today's supposed to be exciting.” Amara swallows the last of her pancake from the fork, I’m holding to her mouth. I have to be really strict with her at meal times, if she had her way she wouldn’t eat, at all. Since she’s been pregnant, the baby’s only been making her feel sick, luckily she keeps whatever I can get into her, down. “I am excited.” I stroke my hand across her tummy, there's still no sign of her condition from the outside, but it won’t be long before she starts to show. “Are you scared there might be something wrong? I’ve done everything your doctor friend told me to. I’ve eaten the right food, taken that folic, whatever, tablet. Apart from the nausea, I feel great.” She tries to reassure me, but that's not why I’m anxious about today. I have kept Amara in my protective bubble for the past four months. Today we are having to step out of it, and that concerns me. “Not at all, our child’s going to be perfe

Manfred Valderrama POV “Today must have been tough for you.” I pull back the covers when Amara starts walking toward the bed. She’s wearing just her panties and seeing that tiny bump of hers sticking over the waistline of them has my cock steel, fucking, hard. “It was awful.” She slides in beside me, snuggling into my chest and looking up at me through her lashes. “Talking about varicose veins and piles over a Caesar salad was not my idea of a fun afternoon. I swear she managed to cram every pregnancy horror story, she’s ever heard, into that hour,” she points out, but soon eases up when I slide my hand into the front of her panties and start rubbing my finger against her clit, she mewls like a satisfied, little kitten. I love the way she gets turned on so easily, and when I start to slowly tease her entrance, she grabs my wrist to hold it steady. “I won’t let you distract me from the conversation we need to have.” She moves quickly, shifting her body so it’s straddling mine.“Now,

Amara Villafuerte POV I notice the bowl of lasagne that I figure is what I left at the dinner table, earlier. I’d managed to persuade Manfred that the salad and four new potatoes, I’d eaten, had filled me, and as tasty as Anna’s home cooking is, it’s not what I’m looking for, now. I find the punnet of strawberries and pull them out, popping one in my mouth as I place them on the counter, and search for more things that appeal to me. I figure whipped cream will come in useful and I check the coast is clear before I take that out, shake it, and spray it directly into my mouth. The satisfaction it brings makes me smile, and after I’ve gotten myself a little collection of random things to experiment with, I hoist my ass up onto the kitchen counter and start to tuck in, using the glow from the open refrigerator door. Strange ideas for the food in front of me start to combine themselves in my head, and I can’t resist dipping my fingers into the pickle jar and pulling one out. The smell do