All Chapters of RELUCTANT BRIDE FOR THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

ATTENTION: Dearest Reader, Kindly Note that the previous chapter you read is a brief tear into what to expect in Part Two. The story will go on to continue from AUTHOR’S POV Tessa could swear that the devil had possessed her again and she was loving it. It was one of those occasions when she thanked the devil for existing and having the ability to make people do his bidding, she wished she had that much power to get Pedro to do her bidding. The drama at the gathering earlier, the brawl at the parking lot. All that was nothing compared to what she had in store for Don Pedro, hopefully, he is not hypertensive because it’s either she kills him or he dies of hypertension for stopping her from beating the shit out of Natalia. Inside Tessa’s mind swirled in a haze of alcohol and anger, and somewhere along the lines of a casual horniness she was exhibiting. She was tipsy—her thoughts unfiltered and raw—and already tonight had been a bitter reminder of all that had gone wrong. The ca

She tried to shake herself free from the sweet sensation coursing through her body He parted her legs and gently nudged in between, tapping her thighs and motioning her to spread her legs wider for him. Then he entered her. It seemed as though there was an obstruction in her wind pipe that had her gasping for air with every sharp, deep stroke. She let out a guttural moaning, yelping at the introduction of new strokes.“Daddy you’re so big”, she cried weakly as she tried to stabilise his thrust with her hands but he slapped her hands off.It felt as though she had triggered him because after he slapped her hands out of the way he began to unleash hard, rough, uneven, kind of strokes that sent her flailing up and down. Her vagina stretched, his dick spreading through the wetness of her inside as he continued to fuck her without mercy. Just how he wanted it. Just the right vibe he envisioned when he told Franco to get him a plaything. It seemed as though he was inclined to try somet

This man has got to be insane, dear lord. My head throbbed—the air had gotten thinner and I found myself struggling to take in more air. I really did not recall most of the things I said to him earlier but I know I had made a fool of myself, and now he had every intention of rubbing it in. “Why so tense, querida?” he asked, his voice smooth, teasing. I exhaled sharply. “I wonder why. Perhaps if you back off a little bit, I won’t be.” Pedro smiled a silly kind of smile, his gaze dragging over me like a slow burn. “Nice dress,” he murmured, looking down at my hands. “You have not even seen it on me yet” I muffled. I didn’t acknowledge the comment, I felt it was backhanded. It was the first piece of clothing I had grabbed from the closet—a simple black dress with thin straps—and I wasn’t about to let him turn it into something else or make it seem like I intended to wear it for his satisfaction or to please him. I would have appreciated it if he kept his compliments to himsel

AUTHOR’S POVTessa sat stiffly in the car as it rolled to a smooth stop in front of the Lorenzo mansion. She first muttered ‘Thank You Jesus’ under her breath. Her stomach rumbled, and her bladder was full but despite that, she felt empty, absolutely empty.The jet lag was hitting her so hard, her entire body aching from the long flight, the internal clocks in her body were ticking off an alarm signalling she needed to shut down and rest a bit, but she barely had a moment to process her exhaustion before she caught sight of the people waiting at the grand entrance.What the hell is going on now? She asked.A line of guards, perfectly aligned, stood in silence, their black uniforms dashingly smart and intimidating, they were like giant towers, all with bald heads. Beside them, the house staff—maids in immaculate pink uniforms, their heads slightly bowed—as though they awaited orders.While they were in the car, the chauffeur exited first, walking around to open the passenger door. Don

DON PEDRO’S POV Inside the club’s main hall, the president of the Golf club, a dignified gentleman in just a pair t-shirt and shorts, cleared his throat and began the roll call. “Don Pedro?” he called. “Don Rodolfo?” “Sir Princeton?” “Miss Medlin?” “Sir Renato” “Sir Vince” “Don Nathan” and continued to mention others, each name was met with a firm “Present!” from the assembled members. I offered a short nod as my name was pronounced. “Thank you all for coming on time,” the president continued, his was laid back and formal. “I do apologise for my lateness this evening; I assure you it will not become a habit.” He paused to laugh, a few others joined, I did not. “Now, the purpose of today’s meeting is to finalise the arrangements for the upcoming Monterrey Golf Club International Tournament. This event will, I believe, bring about significant development in our region, and we must ensure that all aspects of our proposal are watertight in terms of collaborations, sponsorships and