Loving My Billionaire Stepson
SYNOPSIS:
Before meeting Elliot Winter, Michelle's life was a routine of beatings from her drunk dad and juggling part-time jobs. He was handsome, loaded, and had a smile that could melt ice.
There was also a twenty-year age gap between them, Michelle didn't care because their relationship was the only ray of sunshine in her rather bleak world. And when he popped the question she was more than happy to say yes. Michelle thought she had found her happily ever after, but she couldn't have been more wrong. With each year that passed Elliot became more of a stranger and less of the man she had fallen for, neglecting her and looking the other way when his mother treated her poorly, that was until the day their 5th anniversary rolled around, she caught him in bed with her sister.
Her love is replaced by hate, a swooning affection now burning rage. Well, two could play that game. That night, she dials her stepson's number with a single text that will change their lives forever.
'I need you tonight'
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Chapter 6
Michelle's pov
His kiss filled me with a need I couldn't describe, carving out a desire I had long since buried within myself trapped within the confines of my heart because it was something that Elliot could never fulfill, not like here but went out of his way to do so.
Hayden pulled it out of me as his lips ravaged mine until I was out of breath and my face was flushed with color our eyes met questioning pleading for more, my heart was slamming against my ribs the bits of common sense that remained in my mind told me that this was wrong but before I blinked our lips met again like the opposite sides of a magnet a reached down his hand touching my thigh and going higher.
If I didn't stop him now...then..
The thought only remained in my mind but did not go past my lips, didn't even get the chance as his tongue pryed through, entangling itself with mine our saliva mixed into a cocktail of deeper need his hand rose higher more defiant. Now my heart was beating so loudly I was half sure he could hear it he pulled me up plopping me on the counter without breaking the kiss. His other hand pressed more firmly to my lower back so that I was still pulled towards him. I reached my fingers around his neck, accidentally grabbing his hair and yanking on it.
I was just about to apologize when he leaned towards me shivering, and moaned softly into my mouth.
"Please..." He was begging not asking, "...do that again," I was skeptical and a little freaked out by what I just learnt about Hayden, but still I complied holding a fistful of his hair and pulling on it.
"Ugh..." It took his hand from my back and grabbed my other leg instinctively I rubbed them around his hips, our bodies were now glued together as we explored each other's mouths his tongue licking at every crevice in mind. I was so distracted by his kisses that I only came back to reality as he stood at the foot of the bed then dropped me on the king-sized bed. It was soft like lying on a cloud.
I was catching my breath when I saw the threatening tent in Hayden's pants, I gulped, my mouth already felt dry on account of his tongue. Watching the bound in his pants grow was both exciting and scary at the same time.
"That looks like it hurts," I said unable to take my eyes away."How much bigger are you going to get?"
He smirked..
"Don't tell me, my old man isn't at least this size?"
I blushed.
Elliott has been my first and only, there was no other real-life experience to compare if he was above or below average. But I always liked to assume that he was at least average.
Or maybe it was his son who was the weird one.
His mention of his dad gave me another dose of doubt, what if I ended up regretting this? We had already made out... Was there really any backing out now? He took off his pants leaving just his stretched briefs ot on the bed walking on all fours then trapping me between his hands again as he hovered over me.
"Are you wondering if it'll fit?"
I hesitated.
"I'm just wondering if we're doing the right thing..."
He chuckled.
"We're not,"
•••••••
His tongue was lapping all the juices that was flowing out of my folds, each flashy whip from that lethal tongue of his sent me crashing into a wave of pleasure, then a tsunami began to build up my legs trembled raising higher and higher by themselves like they were trying to touch the roof then I reached my peak exploding with a mix of intense guilt and satisfaction.
Except there was more satisfaction than guilt.
I was embarrassed to admit that even to myself, after giving his still clothed member one more passing look I slipped off the bed and straightened my clothes. I ignored how my legs were still wobbling like jelly. Hayden's eyes were watching me burning from his own unquenched desire, he got off the bed too.
"Are you just going to leave like that?"
He helped me from behind wrapping his hands around my waist and sliding his member between my butt cheeks lifting the hem of my dress until the only thing between us and direct contact was the soaked cotton of our underwear. I was getting moist and needy again, part of me wanted to dig my tongue into his throat once more and pull him towards the bed to have him go all the way with me but as the mist of pleasure was beginning to clear up guilt took its chance and snuck in.
This was wrong... Even if I wanted to get back at his father, using my stepson to do that was just plain wrong. I untangled his hands from around my waist, peeling myself away from him before turning around and letting our eyes make contact. His own eyes had darkened with want. I had to admit that even if I wasn't going to give in to him he was still making it as hard as possible to resist.
All these years as my bedroom life with Elliot became more stale and predictable, I never once pointed an accusing finger towards him.
In my mind, I was the one at fault.
I thought that there was something wrong with me because Elliot had never scratched the surface of what Hayden made me feel tonight.
"I'll sleep on the couch," I said offering no other explanation until I got to the door and paused as my fingers encircled the handle. "Let's just pretend like tonight never happened,"
"Can you?" He asked me his voice tight.
I did answer, just pulled the door open, and left before I changed my mind and made another mistake.
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9.3
My husband, Deegan, plunged a needle into my heavily pregnant belly. He said it was a mild sedative to "slow things down." The truth was a brutal betrayal.
His brother's widow, Karmen, was also due, and her son had to be born first to secure the family inheritance. He was sacrificing our child for money.
He locked me in a panic room, leaving me to suffer through agonizing contractions alone.
His sister found me, not to help, but to kick me and let her venomous snake sink its fangs into my arm.
As I lay bleeding out, my baby dying inside me, he had all the life-saving medical equipment moved to Karmen's private clinic, leaving me with nothing.
He called me a manipulative actress, a gold-digger trying to steal the inheritance. The man who swore to protect me left me to die on a cold floor, choosing a birthright over his own child.
But I didn't die. My billionaire father saved me, and I was reborn from the ashes of my grief. Years later, when Deegan stormed into my boardroom, convinced he could drag his "dead" wife home, I looked at the pathetic man he'd become. I slowly pulled the wedding ring from my finger and let it fall to the floor.
"The woman who loved you died that night."
7.9
Jace Maddox is a billionaire tech CEO known for his cold heart and strict routines. Behind closed doors, he's a man haunted by betrayal, grief, and secrets too heavy to share.
River Hale is an ex-military bodyguard with nothing left to lose. Disgraced and angry, he's hired to protect the one man he can't stand, Jace Maddox.
When a dangerous scandal threatens to destroy Jace's empire, the only way to survive is a fake relationship. A staged romance to control the media.
But fake feelings start to feel real.
As secrets unravel and enemies close in, both men must face their pasts, and the truth about what they've come to mean to each other.
8.8
After years trapped under the cruelty of her stepfather's control, Isabella knew the rules of surviving in a world ruled by men like Marco Deluca - never be noticed, never be wanted. But when she becomes a witness to something she was never meant to see, Vincenzo spares her life for reasons he doesn't understand.
Drawn to her quiet strength and fearless gaze, he finds himself willing to burn his empire to keep her safe. But loving him means stepping into a world that destroys everything it touches... and she might be the only thing he can't afford to lose.
9.0
I married the CEO of the powerful Powers Corporation, and everyone saw me as the perfect trophy wife. They assumed my days were filled with nothing but shopping on Fifth Avenue.
But this prestigious family was a house of cards. My husband's siblings were spoiled, useless children threatening to bring the entire empire down with their stupidity.
His brother, Braden, was a parasite who mistook his trust fund for "freedom." His sister, Chelsea, was a brainless socialite being used as a pawn in a public scandal by a con artist.
Even the family's ruthless Chief of Staff, a man meant to be their shield, looked at me with utter contempt, viewing me as just another problem to be managed.
They all saw a fragile doll. They had no idea that their weakness was an insult to the family name, and I was not going to stand for it.
It was time to discipline the children. The first lesson began at 3,000 feet, when I kicked my brother-in-law out of a plane mid-flight. His rehabilitation—and my takeover of this family—had just begun.
9.0
Once a pampered princess, Alaina now clutched a deactivated American Express card, staring out at Central Park. Her family’s fortune was gone, her life, over.
Her family's Hamptons estate, a four-generation legacy, was seized by Dyer Capital. The name hit her: Hardin Dyer, the poor boy she’d once scorned, had returned.
Hardin marched in, serving a divorce agreement. He'd orchestrated her family's downfall for revenge, giving her 24 hours to vacate his property. Penniless, her father faced prison, needing $50 million. Her mother forced her to beg Hardin, who sneered, offering the money for her body. Alaina ripped up the contract.
Hours later, her father had a heart attack. Desperate, she became "Lexi," a club girl enduring humiliation. In the Viper Room, Hardin's lackeys demanded she lick whiskey off his shoe for $10,000. Hardin watched. Outside, her brother Ashton's hand was threatened for a $3 million debt. Spirit shattered, Alaina returned, knelt on broken glass, offering to sign. But Hardin declared her family "dead," offering $10 million for her body, commanding her to use her mouth.
In a furious act of defiance, Alaina threw whiskey in his face, snatched the check, and fled. Yet, when he finally took her, a searing, foreign pain and blood on the sheets revealed a shocking truth: he had never touched her three years ago. Why had he let her believe such a monstrous lie?
7.6
I was the ultimate trophy wife, a polished ornament in Francisco Zimmerman’s billionaire empire. For three years, I perfected the "Zimmerman Wife Smile," playing the role of the devoted partner while smoothing the Egyptian cotton of his shirts.
The illusion shattered when I stood outside his study and heard him laughing with his mistress, Annalise.
"She’s just a vase that only knows how to smile," Francisco’s voice was cold, devoid of any warmth. "As long as I pay the maintenance fees on time, she stays obedient."
I walked out that night with nothing but a canvas bag and the clothes on my back. But Francisco wasn't finished with his "asset." He froze my bank accounts and used his massive influence to blacklist me from every interior design firm in New York. He tracked my phone, watching me struggle from the shadows, waiting for me to starve so I would crawl back to his mansion.
He even showed up at the dive bar where I was playing piano for rent money, mocking my desperation.
"You have technique, but no heart," he sneered, tossing a silver coin into my tip jar as if I were a beggar. "You're hollow, Iris. Just like your pride."
I couldn't believe this was the same man whose life I had saved during a bloody night in Macau. To him, I wasn't a wife; I was a stock price that needed stabilizing. The more I fought for my independence, the tighter he pulled the net, determined to break my spirit until I had no choice but to return to his gilded cage.
Then, the morning sickness hit. I realized I wasn't just carrying my own life anymore—I was carrying his heir. If Francisco found out, he would never let us go; he would turn my child into another "performance bonus" for his brand.
Looking at the sonogram, I knew a divorce would never be enough to escape a man who thought he owned the world.
"I'm not going back," I whispered, staring at his yacht moored in the harbor. "To save this baby, Iris Potter has to die."