Married To The Vengeful Billionaire Chapter 48
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Married To The Vengeful Billionaire:
🔸(His Sweet Torture)🔸
NEXT MORNING•••
Camila slowly opened her eyes. Her body ached everywhere, but when she glanced at the clock, it was already after ten.
“Alejandro?” she called his name, surprised to find the bed empty. The bathroom was silent, no sound of running water.
A note lay beside her. She picked it up and read:
“You were amazing last night, wifey, and I had the best time. I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be out for a quick run and when I’m back, I’ll make something for both of us.”
Alejandro.
She smiled, tossing the letter aside before dragging herself out of bed. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she was suddenly overcome by the irresistible urge to wear Alejandro’s clothes. She had always admired his T-shirts and work shirts but had never dared to take them before. Now, she felt it was okay.
Camila slipped into one of his work shirts. The sleeves were about two centimeters longer than her arms, and it stopped perfectly at her thighs, making her feel comfortable and cozy.
Heading downstairs, she found Alejandro in the kitchen, shirtless, struggling to flip something in a frying pan. Camila stood there quietly for a few moments, watching him. Alejandro, trying to be a gentleman—it was something she never thought she’d see. If someone had told her she’d find Alejandro cooking for her, she would have called them a liar.
Smiling, she tiptoed up to him and hugged him from behind.
“Good morning, I saw your letter. Are you back from your morning run?” she asked softly.
“I got back a few minutes ago. You were still asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.” Alejandro kissed her hand, then turned her to face him, cupping her cheeks.
“Does it hurt? I promised to be gentle, but you were just so sweet, I couldn’t hold back,” he said, his voice soft with concern.
“It hurts a little, but I’ll be fine,” Camila replied, glancing at the frying pan.
“You’re struggling with these pancakes,” she teased, unable to hold back a smile.
“I’ll be done cooking in a few. Go wait for me at the dining table,” he winked, pecking her on the cheek. Then his eyes trailed over her body, noticing the shirt she was wearing.
“Is that my shirt?” he raised an eyebrow.
Camila bit her lip. “I thought it would look nice on me. If I went too far, I can take it off—”
“Bullshit. What’s mine is yours. And you look so damn sexy. I really want to toss you on this counter and take you again,” Alejandro pulled her close for a kiss, but she playfully pulled away.
“I’ll be waiting for you at the dining table.”
A few minutes later, Alejandro arrived with a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, setting it down in front of her.
“I spent an hour making this. Go easy on me,” he said, pushing a not-so-perfectly-shaped pancake toward her.
Camila took a forkful and gave it a try. Her face changed immediately—it was overcooked, and the syrup did nothing to mask the bitterness. She reached for her glass of milk, hoping to wash it down quickly.
“Is it good? You don’t have to eat it if it’s not. I can order something else,” he said, his eyes pleading.
Camila shook her head, forcing a smile. Then she tried the egg. Big mistake—it was undercooked and completely unseasoned. Sighing, she gulped down more milk.
“It’s okay to be a bad cook, you know. You’re already so successful and busy. Cooking doesn’t mean anything,” she tried to reassure him with a sweet tone.
“But you love homemade food. I saw how much you enjoyed your father’s cooking, and I want to make you happy like that,” he sighed, dropping his napkin in frustration.
“But you already make me happy,” Camila smiled warmly.
“Would I make you even happier if I learned to cook and made you breakfast every morning?” he asked, a determined look on his face.
Camila stood up from her chair and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“As long as you’re with me, I don’t need much. You’re enough for me. Just don’t ever leave me alone,” she said seriously, gazing into his eyes.
“I promise,” Alejandro smiled, his expression softening as he leaned in for a kiss.
“One more,” he requested, and she obliged, pecking his lips again. He started kissing her back, trailing his lips down her neck to her chest, making her laugh as she squirmed in his lap.
💍 TO BE CONTINUED 💍
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