Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 133: Chapter 133

ANDRES
Holy fuck.
Was Ellie jealous?
They said hope springs eternal.
As I listened to my wife and took in her anger and her beautiful jealousy, a tiny seed of hope took root deep inside my soul.
It was sick.
I was an asshole.
But the idea that she might be even a tiny bit possessive of me had my dick hard and my heart hammering inside my chest.
Maybe my beauty would learn to love her beast.
Maybe even sooner than I hoped.
Let me in, Lupina.
Love me like I love you.
Please.
I wrapped my arms around her tighter, breathing in her fresh scent and trying to control my baser instincts to lay claim to her right there.
I wanted her naked and panting, writhing beneath me. I wanted to fill her with my cock. Stuff her so full she didn’t know where she ended, and I began.
I wanted to make her come so hard she forgot her own name.
I wanted, fuck yes, I wanted.
Later, I told myself. After dinner, and after we put Sammy to bed.
I would do all that and more.
Later.
“Come here.”
That was all he had to say to get me to relinquish the stranglehold I had on my anger. What was left felt worse.
Like a horrible combination of confusion, desperation, disbelief, embarrassment, and hope.
I kept telling myself I’d proposed to Andres out of desperation.
Not because I liked him.
Or wanted him.
Or felt an off the charts powerful attraction to him.
Being a realist, I knew I needed help, and I knew he had connections.
He was just the sort of weapon a girl like me needed in her arsenal.
Someone lethal, ambitious, and determined, who oozed masculine prowess and protective vibes.
I knew a little bit about Andres. Like the fact he didn’t come from money. He earned his fortune through his own brilliance and hard work.
I admired that. Respected him for it. Just like I admired how readily he’d taken to my son.
Those protective vibes I was talking about before were amplified a zillion times when it came to Sammy. Just the idea of Andres as a dad, even a stepdad, was enough to make my ovaries go off like fireworks.
Oh my.
It might sound crazy, but in those few minutes when he held me inside of the commercial-grade kitchen, it was like time stopped.
Like the connection between actual time and my brain had short-circuited.
The man was dangerous.
Andres was like no one I’d ever met. When I said I was sheltered growing up, I meant it.
And as he held me, a typhoon of memories came flooding into my befuddled brain.
Maybe it was his big, powerful body wrapped around mine that did it. Or that crazy sexy scent that seemed to cling to his bronzed skin.
I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just held on and tried to keep up while my mind raced.
Andres was so smart. Well-educated. A genius at the company, I’d heard the wives and even their husbands praise him.
Would he care that I rarely attended actual school? That I preferred reading smut to reading the Wall Street Journal?
Shit. I felt so damn inadequate sometimes, but Andres seemed to instinctively feel my self-doubt growing, and he hugged me tighter.
I closed my eyes and saw images of my Dad. He was so much older than me.
He was a gruff man. Rarely smiled. And he preferred I stayed home.
I had nannies and tutors, stuff like that. I did attend a private school for a bit. Got to experience high school, went to prom.
But I only went to college for a semester. Didn’t even finish.
I went back and was just as happy to stay home as my father was to keep me there.
I didn’t realize what it was doing to me. What I was doing to myself. How it would hurt me in the end.
Inexperience and ignorance were the real enemies.
I was green as grass when I met Gary. I didn’t know what he was or recognize the signs.
Maybe I was broken.
And this next part was hard to admit, but my therapist helped me get there, and Andres made me feel brave enough to face it. So, hate the past or not, I had to own mine.
I didn’t know a damn thing about life when I married Gary. I traded the gilded cage my father built me for a crude one forged by a man who had no depth of feelings for anything other than himself.
Gary had some money, but most of it was loans. Stuff he owed. We used my trust fund to buy the condo where we lived after our wedding.
Where he still lived.
And I allowed it. I thought sure, I can pay, why not? We were married. It was okay. I hardly flinched when he insisted on things being a certain way.
Gary had a lot of quirks. Like how his laundry was to be put away and such, but thankfully, he wanted a service to do all that.
Still, I could have fought. Could have argued. But I didn’t. I just thought that was how things were in a marriage.
No, I did not blame myself for Gary’s abuse. But I could have been more proactive about protecting myself.
And I could have started when I was younger and under my father’s thumb.
The thing about it was I didn’t realize I was being manipulated by the men in my life who should have been supporting me to become all I could be.
Of course, now I knew better. With therapy, I learned to let go of what I couldn’t change, and to embrace my future. The future I chose.
With Andres and Sammy.