All Chapters of Bred By My Billionaire Boss: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO~ CamillaStephano didn’t stop.Didn’t even fucking slow down.His cock rammed into me even harder, dragging a strangled moan from my throat.I tried to move, tried to cover myself, but his hand shot out fast, snatching both my wrists and yanking them tight behind my back.Pinned.Exposed.My ass high in the air, my pussy still stretched around him, dripping wet for anyone to see."Shut the door," he barked, like he wasn’t fucking me like a savage, like this was just another goddamn meeting.His hips slammed forward viciously as he added, almost lazily, "Unless you want to join in."Kate gasped, face flushing a deep, furious red. She stumbled backward, eyes wild and the door slammed shut with a loud, final thud.Only then did I find my voice, broken and breathless:"You fucking bastard!""You think she’ll ever forget?" he rasped, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. "The way you looked—"Another brutal thrust. "—Tits out, pussy stretched, dripping around my co

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR~ StephanoI slammed the office door shut so hard the fucking windows rattled. I ropped into my chair like gravity had tripled. For a second, I just sat there, chest heaving, fists clenched so tight my knuckles cracked.Fucking women. Fucking Camilla. What the hell was her problem?I raked a hand through my hair, dragging it back roughly, breathing hard. And then I saw it.Her panties, lying there on the floor. A tiny scrap of lace, still twisted from the way I’d peeled it off her ass before bending her over my desk.I stared at them for a long second, my cock throbbing again in my slacks, already half-hard like my body didn’t give a fuck about the fight, about the screaming.Of course it didn’t.It remembered the way she felt around me. Tight. Hot. Goddamn perfect. I shifted in my chair, pissed off at myself for even reacting.She was the best fuck I’d had in years. No question. Not even close. And now she was out there, crying like I’d done something fucking wrong

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX~ StephanoI was halfway through reviewing a procurement report when the knock came. Light. Polite. Annoying.“Come in,” I barked, without looking up.My door creaked open, and the HR girl, what was her name again? Madison? Marilyn? She stepped in like she was about to deliver the news of a death in the family. She clutched a file to her chest like it might protect her.“Sir,” she said with that prim voice HR types liked to use when delivering corporate crap, “I just wanted to inform you that your assistant, Ms. Camilla Whitlock, has formally submitted a month long sick leave request. It’s already been approved by the system. We’ll assign a temporary fill-in until she returns.”I paused mid-sentence. My eyes snapped up.“Camilla Whitlock?”She blinked. “Yes, sir. Is there a problem?”I straightened in my chair, one brow arched. “Problem?” I said, letting out a dry laugh. “No. No problem. She’s free to do as she pleases. Sick leave. Of course.”The girl hesitated, ga

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT~ CamillaI couldn’t see past the goddamn tower of files in my arms.Stephano had dumped them on my desk with that smug, condescending smirk of his, like he’d just gifted me a promotion instead of a week’s worth of pure, unfiltered bullshit. Budget breakdowns, Q3 performance reviews, department reports. Elvis never did this to me. Elvis respected personal space. Elvis didn’t assign me mailroom delivery duty like I was a goddamn intern.But no. Stephano was different. Stephano was an asshole with a god complex, a dick too proud of itself, and a vengeance kink aimed squarely at me. This was my life now. Ever since I refused to sign that ridiculous contract, which was just his polished, lawyered-up version of "Be My Desk Slut, Anytime, Anywhere", he'd made it his mission to grind me into dust.And I was doing it. Delivering these fucking files. Trying not to drop them. My arms ached. The top folder was sliding. My heel wobbled.“Son of a bitch,” I hissed under my brea

CHAPTER SIXTY~ CamillaThe Day Of The Gala: 6:42 PM.I checked the time for the fifth time in three minutes.He said he’d pick me up at seven. But I was already dressed. Already spiraling. Already pacing my tiny apartment in a floor-length black satin dress that made me feel like a damn impostor in my own skin. I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. Hair swept up. Shoulders bare. Earrings sparkling subtly. Neckline just toeing the line between classy and are-you-seriously-wearing-that. My heels made me tall enough to lie about it on dating apps, and the slit up my thigh was doing things to my self-esteem I hadn’t felt in years.I looked… good.Too good.And my first thought wasn’t You look like a goddess…it was What if he laughs?What if he saw me and immediately regretted this?And what the fuck was this, anyway?I mean, it was just a gala. It wasn’t a date. Just his assistant filling in. Temporarily. Convenient. Professional.Totally normal for a senior partner to pic