All Chapters of Mr.CEO’s Contract Bride is a Hidden Heiress: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

(Sybil’s POV)“Sybil, you promised to stay with me,” John said again, tugging insistently at my arm, “I really want you to stay here.”“Don’t worry, I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back.” I smiled and shook my head at how clingy he was being. It usually bothered me when he behaved in such a possessive way, but I could tell that this was different. He was acting just like a child who needed comfort and reassurance. It was endearing, in a way. “I’m just going to get you some water. You have to stay hydrated, remember?”He reluctantly let go of me. “Okay, but hurry back.”I went downstairs, wondering what I had gotten myself into. It was the middle of the afternoon, and I had promised John that I would stay with him overnight. I was prepared to fulfill my promise, but I didn’t want to run into his mother. She hadn’t even crossed my mind when I had agreed to this, but now, as I walked toward the kitchen, I knew that there was a chance that I would have to face her. Maybe if I got John’s

(John’s POV)The fact that there weren’t any usable condoms should have stopped us before we ended up going too far, but I wanted her so badly that I was prepared to risk it. I still felt a bit hot, even though it wasn’t nearly as bad as the night before, and I knew that feeling her cool skin against me would help a lot.It was obvious that she wanted me just as much, if not more. Unfortunately, because of my injured arm, I had to be careful of the way that I moved. Sybil was aware of this, and took control but very gently. She knew exactly what I liked. Her hands and mouth were roaming all over my body. Once I was inside her, she moved slowly at first, then progressively faster and faster, until we both climaxed.Afterwards, she was laying on top of me, both of us breathing heavily. I couldn’t help but think about the last time we had done this. That, of course, had ended badly. I knew now that it had been wrong of me to accuse her of poking holes in all of the condoms. She wasn’t th

(Sybil’s POV)I was beyond nervous as I sat in a chair at Othello Magazine’s headquarters later that day, waiting to meet the chief editor. Emma had made this happen, and I would forever be grateful to her for telling her friend about me, but I was suddenly filled with a feeling of self-doubt. What if the chief editor ended up not liking me, or didn’t like my story after she’d had more time to think about it? I knew how harmful it was to think these things, but I couldn’t keep those thoughts out of my head.The last time that I was nervous to this extent was when I took all of those pregnancy tests. That situation had worked out to my advantage, I reminded myself. Maybe this one would as well.I looked around, and saw a man walking by. He looked so familiar, and it took me a minute to place him. Liam had been a teacher’s assistant with Willa’s class when she was pretending to study creative writing at university. I had met him a few times back then, when I had to hand in Willa’s assi

(Sybil’s POV)As Alex and I got into his car, I saw that he wasn’t as talkative as he usually was. “Is something wrong?” I asked him.“Nothing’s wrong,” he said quickly, as if my question had startled him, “I was just thinking about that guy I saw you with just now. I feel as though I’ve seen him before, but I can’t think of where.”“Oh, that’s Liam. He was a teacher’s assistant in the creative writing program when we were at university. I met him a few times when I handed in the assignments that Willa was passing off as her own.” I then remembered that Alex didn’t know about any of that. “You know the story I told you about earlier, that might be published in the magazine? It’s something that I wrote in high school. Willa saw it at the time, and claimed that she was the one who wrote it.”Alex smirked. “Of course she would do something like that.”“That’s not the end of it. She somehow thought that she should study creative writing, so that’s what she did at university. Like I said,

(Sybil’s POV)There was a lot of tension in the air during dinner, even though there were much fewer people than last time. It was just me, John, Alex, John’s parents and his grandparents.As the main course was being served, I looked across the table at John and noticed that he was looking at his plate with frustration. I didn’t understand it at first, because I knew how much he liked steak. Was there something wrong with it, or with the broccoli or boiled potatoes that accompanied it? I looked at my own plate, but everything looked delicious.I made eye contact with him and raised my eyebrows, silently asking him what the problem was.He looked at the plate, then back at me. His gaze shifted to his left arm, and it finally dawned on me. He obviously hadn’t told anybody about his injury. If he had, the kitchen staff would have definitely cut up his food before it was brought out to him. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t seem to want anybody to know what had happened to him.I nodde