Shattered Love : A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 1)

by Bianca Borell

  BRIA

  My body ripples with the passion and desire rolling off him. My eyes fix on his blazing ones, his stone body alight with something I have witnessed so often over time—a raw and unapologetic possession. The visual rocks my core and awakens a battalion of butterflies. His wide chest expands until his buttons threaten to burst open. The muscles in his ripped arms spasm, steel blue eyes swallowed by dilated pupils, and liquid fire melts any coherent thoughts I might have. He pulls my body against his chest, heat spreading through me. He holds and carries me to the bed as if I weigh nothing . . . the determination, lust, and love I detect in his eyes . . . his scent intoxicates me. And I want—no, I need—to feel him inside me again, for one more time, one last divine feeling. I long for him in me, consuming me from the inside out as the last memory of my life.

  I don’t even deny the truth anymore, I have always been, and always will be, his. Why should I withhold from him what is rightfully his? My body clothed in a frantic desire for him should be proof enough anyway. Tomorrow is another story, but for now, I yearn to feel what it’s like to be loved again by the only man I’ve ever loved. The past and the future are of no significance at this moment. The power of the now is what the past and the future bow to. In an instant, we have something we either wish to put in the past or build a future toward. But we have neither. We just steal in our desperate need to feel another, a moment in time.

  “Are you ready, Bria? Because I will rock your world, baby.”

  He drops me on the mattress, and a yelp flees me. If my quivering body is any indicator, I believe him.

  His lopsided grin lifts in the corners of his mouth, and it takes my breath away. “Overconfident, much? Give it your best shot.”

  Damien positions himself between my legs. He’s so infuriatingly beautiful with his perfectly straight nose and carved jaw and high, diamond-cut cheekbones and those perfectly shaped eyebrows. He sizes me up, and under his penetrating stare, I melt and become one with the covers. His hoarse voice sparks my desire, and I grab the sheets as my legs squeeze him to me.

  “I’ll give you more than that. I’ll give you myself again, my heart, and everything you wish for, so you’ll have a reason to come back to me so we can both be whole again. I need you to want to return to the place you were born to occupy in my arms and by my side. I’ll pour in you everything I have. It’s a promise!”

  I stare at him in stupid fascination as I swallow a non-existent lump caught in my throat. My heart soars. I want all of what he said and more as I quiver with desire under him.

  He yanks my shirt and goes for my black leather pants, peeling them off until I’m laid out for him in my black lace underwear. The craving in his eyes heats my skin, and goose bumps spread all over my body. He grabs my hand and presses it on his hard, thick erection, and I moan in anticipation.

  “The way you look at me, Bria. How you completely surrender yourself has me on fire. Do you feel how hard and ready I am for you?”

  I shudder again. My body longs for his touch, and I can’t wait for him to get inside me. It’s been too long. My hands start to undress him, but he stops me. “No, no, baby. Not so fast.”

  “You just like to torment me.”

  He winks at me and leans in, kissing me. “This way, it’s so much more intense, baby.”

  He unhooks my black lace bra. I stiffen, knowing this time he won’t just see a tattoo but also a scar. Still, I can’t deny his touch. He always loved my perfect skin, as he called it. Last year, it was easier to hide it under the shadows and without a source of light. Plus, I forbade him to touch this area. But now it stands up under his watchful eyes, and the lights bathing this room. I crave his touch too much to forbid him from touching me. Still, my hands rush to cover my chest as I shut my eyes.

  “Bria, baby, open your eyes,” he pleads, and I give in, incapable of denying him. My stupid, damaged heart still beats for him and only him.

  He wraps his hands around mine; his gaze never wavering from mine. “Hear me out, and I swear I’m not lying to you. I will never lie to you again. You are perfect on every level. Nothing matches your beauty.

  Before me stands something more than a monument of a man. Years upon years of comfort, love, friendship, and laughter gaze back at me through thick, black lashes, and my body relaxes as he nods.

  He grazes my nipple with his thumb, and I writhe underneath him, going wild with the desire for more. “Want more?”

  He drags his nose down my neck, kissing at my collarbone, down to the valley of my breasts. I don’t know what he’s trying to achieve except for making me explode from lust, and I moan.

  “Please, Damien, you . . . you . . .” But coherence eludes me as he pinches and twirls my nipples between his fingers. I can only form unintelligible noises, pleasure on the verge of pain. He knows how to coax the lust from me. Always so damn persistent when it comes to subduing me to pleasure.

  “I know your body in and out. I could make you come by playing with your tits alone.”

  He puts his mouth on one nipple, sucking, biting, and then nibbling on the other, rough and gentle with a slight sting, all to bring me to a high we both thirst for. I slam my eyes shut. My toes curl . . . I am so close. With his other hand, he traces the line of my black thong. I can feel him hard and ready between my thighs. He peels the thong off me before I even realize what he’s doing. I tremble, crying out as he finds my clit and pleasures me with his mouth and fingers. I tug at the ends of his hair, and his lips curve into a satisfied grin on my sensitive skin.

  The orgasm so intense, stars pop into my vision and I shout his name. There is nothing except Damien, and complete adoration shining in his eyes. From between my legs, his two pools of steel gaze at me, glossy lips curving into a smirk. Now, this is a sight I could get used to.

  “I missed tasting you. The way you let yourself go, baby. My name purring out of your tempting mouth is the sexiest thing I have ever heard. And now you can undress me because I have to get inside you and make you come again.”

  I slap his hard-as-a-rock abdomen and drink in the sight of him. “Do you have to be so crass about it?” I try to sound irritated but fail, and his lips arch into a dazzling smile.

  “I know you love my dirty mouth.”

  He is right, but I don’t admit it. I straddle and press him to the mattress, fingers bouncing on his chest. I unbutton his shirt as I bite on my lower lip. “Payback, love.”

  “Baby, take all the time you need. Delay it as much as you want.” His lips find the shell of my ear, and he says, “If you play dirty, I’ll play even dirtier and make it last even longer. But I’m sure you’ll love it either way.”

  His words awaken the uninhibited part of me as I throb under his fingers, tracing the line from my chest to my belly button. When his shirt slips to the floor, I cup his face in my hands and feast on his plump lips, slow at first and ravenous with every sweet taste. When I end the kiss, we both moan. I lick his earlobe and hum against the sensitive spot on his neck.

  “Two can play this game.” I give his earlobe a little nip, and his fingers burrow into my waist.

  “This will be the game of our lives, then.”

  I trail kisses along his pulsing neck and from one well-defined shoulder to the other. I kiss his heart where his tattoo is inked, and my heart expands with love and happiness.

  Catching my smile, he winks. “I’m glad you like what you see.”

  “I don’t like it, Damien. I love it,” I say, stroking the tattoo’s lines with my fingers as emotions try to choke me, but I swallow them down. He raises my fingers to his mouth, lust flashing in his eyes while I palm his six-pack. He has a great body, all firm with well-defined muscles. Saliva gathers in my mouth, and my insides melt into a puddle of desire. When I reach his pants, I unzip and jerk them off. I have other things in mind. When he remains in his black designer underwear, I press my hands on his chest and push him on his back. His head hits the pillow, and his deep blue eyes pierce my soul.
He lies all self-assured and self-confident, a full smirk plastered on his face. I have trouble finding any relevant thoughts at all. He’s too sexy.

  “And what are you going to do next? Admire me all night?”

  To emphasize his point, he crosses his hands at the back of his neck. I can’t stop grinning. This is exactly who he is, and I love every aspect of him. I am lost to him and am bound to be his. I slide between his legs. His eyes widen, and his smirk freezes. His love for me shines so brightly in his steel eyes; it warms me from within. This man is still in love with me. Everything else vanishes except for him.

  With one hand, I fondle him, promising with my tongue a pleasure unbound. Damien throws his head back. I love the moans my hungry mouth unleashes in him.

  His hands grip my hair and hisses. “If you stop, I might die.”

  The desperation ringing in his voice excites me.

  “I can’t hold it anymore! Fuck, baby, you have four seconds tops to decide.”

  He shoots his release and collapses on the mattress with a grin stretching on his face. Damien gathers me in his arms, nibbling on my lips. “I loved every second of your mouth on me, but now, I have to be inside you.”

  He shifts us, and the next instant, he pins me under him and thrusts inside me, leaving me gasping for air.

  My body ignites. A voice inside whispers this could be a beginning rather than an end, but I lose the thought, and I let the delicious toe curling feeling of him inside me wash over me instead. I forget everything else as I moan his name.

  “I am not done yet, but you’ll take all of me, won’t you?”

  I nod, not knowing where I begin, and he ends. We become one as we climb the peak of pleasure together.

  “Let yourself go, baby.” And I do. We both do.

  We tumble on the bed, out of breath but smiling at each other. Damien brings my head to his drumming heart.

  “I didn’t think something like that was even possible,” he says, surprise lacing in his voice. “We reached some out-of-the-world kind of fucking territory.”

  There is one thing I wish for right now—to lie here in his arms with a wide smile etched on my face for forever. That would be everything.

  “I don’t think I can move.” A sweet soreness spreads across my body, and he dips his head and kisses my forehead.

  “It’s okay, love. I’ve got you.”

  “I have to shower.”

  “Let’s sleep for a while, okay?”

  “But we’re sweaty,” I complain as he dares me with his eyes to deny him.

  “A reminder of what we did, and I’m sure I’ll have some blissful sleep due to the visual and smell.” His eyebrows waggle, and then he winks at me. I smack his chest and suppress a giggle. The conversation is over as he presses me to him, and sleep overtakes him.

  In a few hours, everything will change. I shove the thought into a corner of my mind, too tired to consider it as I thread my fingers through his hair. Minutes later, I join Damien and fall asleep.

  ***

  As my eyes flutter open and wrapped in Damien’s arms, a warm feeling awakens in me as I meld myself to him. This here, him next to me, us together like this again makes me happy. The realization both thrills and scares me. Sensing I’m awake, Damien stirs too. We are that linked.

  His soft lips arch into a smile, grazing mine, awakening tingles all over my body. “Did you sleep well, baby?” His hoarse voice and sweet gesture melt and ruin me altogether.

  “Let’s say I can’t even remember if I dreamed anything. I must have been exhausted.” I grin, and he counters, a goofy smile spreading on his full lips.

  “Wearing you out could be my new hobby.”

  I poke him on his stone-solid chest while his grin widens, and he settles himself on top of me. “I love to wake up next to you. Here you are all naked and at my disposal.” This could have been our life, waking up together, making love, the two of us being happy. I stop thinking further. All it brings me is pain and more regrets.

  I caress his face and force the tears back. He seizes my lips, caresses my body, and makes love to me. Our eyes lock and maintain contact. We both know without words how deeply in love with each other we still are.

  When we climax, it doesn’t feel like a release but more like binding us together. I moan his name. A silent I love you hangs in the air.

  We lie suspended in our bubble before he props up on his elbows, his eyes probing. I know he’s about to do something. His eyes always betray his intentions, and the moment his fingers follow my scars, alarm bells go off in my body. He silences my nonverbal pleas with light kisses and assuring words, but I keep my eyes shut.

  “Hush, baby. It’s okay. Open those beautiful hazel eyes, Bria, and look at me, please.”

  I sigh but comply with his request.

  “What are you afraid of?” His soft voice encourages me to try to explain.

  “It’s ugly. The scars show damage, and the tattoo may cover them, but I know they are there.” My voice quivers. “They show my weakness and what’s wrong with me. I don’t know if I can take it if I see pity in your eyes . . . or worse, disgust.” I tilt my head to the side, too afraid to recognize such feelings on his face, glad of the shield my hair provides. He cranes my face toward him, and his eyes shine with warmth.

  He traces the artwork symbolizing our love and our togetherness. Damien finds the four-inch scar from the first surgery and the three much smaller ones from the second, when they didn’t have to cut my chest open. All the marks are obscured by my two beautiful barn owls seated on a branch glancing at each other, their wings forming a heart. It is vivid in its plainness, only the eyes in color, a painting for some damage control of my scarred skin.

  He caresses the scars repeatedly. It unnerves me, but he ignores my tremors as he trails kisses over the long white line and then placing pecks on the star-like ones. I can’t keep the tears from blurring my vision anymore, but they are tears of relief. I have been sure he wouldn’t have it in him to kiss something so abominable, which is how I think of them. He kisses and strokes my scars until my body relaxes under him. He seeks my eyes, and I gasp when something completely different from what I have expected comes out of his mouth.

  “I could never find anything responsible for saving your life even remotely ugly. I cherish your scars. They are lovely, and I would still find them beautiful even if they weren’t hidden under the tattoo. The only thing I recognize when I look at your chest is a gorgeous painting representing love and the marks of a warrior who fought and won and should wear them with pride.”

  My mouth opens to contradict him but halt when I observe the seriousness burning in his eyes. For the first time since I’ve had them, I accept my scars. “Thank you, Damien.”

  His brows raise, and he asks, “For what?”

  “For making me feel better about them.”

  Pain surfaces in his eyes, and he cracks. “I am so sorry, Bria.”

  “For what?”

  “For putting them on you in the first place.”

  His voice merges with pure rawness.

  “Don’t go there, please. I’m tired of always having to return to that moment in time. We can’t let it control our lives anymore. We healed each other tonight. Let’s enjoy the here and now for a while.”

  He nods and springs up. “Then, let’s wash everything bad away.”

  Damien scoops me into his arms and carries me to the bathroom. I giggle the whole time. As we lean into the empty bathtub, he turns on the tap. The hot water fills around us as I lie between his legs, knees up with my head on his chest.

  “You’re perfect for me. I can’t get enough of you. You’re my addiction, my one obsession, always have been and always will be.”

  When I crane my neck to face him, I find the truth of his words etched on his face, and my heart does a happy dance. I scrub every inch of his perfect body. When I am finished, he plucks the loofah from my hands and does the same for me, not leaving a spot unrinsed on my body
.

  He dries me with a fluffy towel but not before smacking my behind, which earns him a squeal of surprise and a raised eyebrow. He picks me up in his arms again and carries me to the bedroom.

  “You lift and carry me as if I weigh nothing.”

  He grins and counters, “It happens I like carrying you around.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek and suppress a smile. “You’re ridiculous.” But I don’t stop him either. A tiny part of me has longed to be taken care of, spoiled, even loved by him.

  I peek outside to the sun awakening the earth’s surface. The time in our bubble comes to an end, and with the light, the blissful hours we spent together fade. My time is up. The knowledge yanks me from his arms and all the beautiful what-ifs. They will forever remain just unfulfilled wishes.

  As if he senses where my thoughts head, he presses me to his chest. I close my eyes, allowing him to take his time. He groans but puts me down.

  The first thing I do is look for my smartphone. I bend from my waist and grab it from the floor. My eyes widen when I realize I have half an hour left before my driver picks me up.

  Damien stands rooted beside the bed. I avoid his probing glances. Instead, I put on a new black lace bra and matching panties and a black jumpsuit covered in floral patterns I grabbed from my suitcase. Dressed, I plod to him, only a few feet separating us, but it feels like so much more now, and I sigh. “I . . .”

  I don’t bring any words out because he gets in my face a second after, hurt blazing in his sharp steel eyes. “Don’t even dare, Bria. Don’t you dare look me in the eyes and say you’re going to leave me. Did this whole night mean nothing to you?”

  And in a despondent voice I do not recognize as my own, I answer, “It meant everything, but it doesn’t change a thing.”

  He raises my chin with his index finger, and then he cups my face in his trembling hands, and I meet his scorching eyes. “I love you, goddammit.” Sincerity and agony battle in his voice. Those three little words undo me, and the hell of pain ignites in my heart. To hear him say them again . . . the unfairness of our situation tears me apart.