Title: Shattered Love (Forever Us, #1)
Author: Nivia Borell
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 28, 2018
Synopsis
Bria du Mont and Damien du Sky have been in love for as long as they can remember. Neighbors and best friends since childhood, they planned to be together forever. That is until Damien seeks to propose to Bria on her eighteenth birthday and finds her in bed with another man. Bria has no memory of how she ended up in that situation, but Damien still leaves her. Traumatized by his departure, she develops broken heart syndrome and becomes emotionally numb in her search for closure. Meanwhile, Damien drowns his pain in alcohol before becoming a ruthless CEO and a playboy who refuses to let himself love again.Prisoners of their past, Bria and Damien prove incapable of staying away from each other. They dig deeper into the fateful night which tore them apart and uncover secrets which will threaten all they know and challenge the meaning and strength of true love.
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Excerpt
“I am done, Bria,” he says, his bloodshot eyes sealed on mine, his voice cracking. He raises a hand exposing the inside of his palm as I gawk at the fine and long lines carving it. “I have to give you something. Here is my bleeding heart. It has ceased beating in my chest, Bria. It’s yours and always has been. Mend it or smash it!” His words and torn expression snap something inside me, but before I sink to the floor, he grabs me and scoops me into his lap. Tears run down his pain-distorted face, and I can’t take it any longer. I join him, and we weep in earnest for what feels like an eternity. Then, with my head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around me, we sit here on the floor, an entangled mess of broken hearts and bodies and sad sounds. I feel a strong urge to caress him, but I halt my attempt to comfort him. Maybe I am completely mad because I’ve always felt this aching need to be there for him, to ease his pain. I can’t rein in myself even after everything that’s happened. He’s the one I can never turn away from, my other half. I feel truly possessed and under the spell and power of something that, although it feels foreign and distant, is still strong enough to make me surrender my all to him. I am far from caring or cringe he will hurt me anymore. I’ve been on the receiving end for a long time now, and it has never deterred me from trying to mollify his pain. Yes, I suppose he might show some sort of disturbed rejection and hurl cruel words my way, but, as always, I will take it for what it is—his particular coping mechanism. “How can you even touch me?” I freeze with my hand midway in the air because the last time we were together, he said he despised and loathed me, so, of course, he will not like my caress. Likely sensing my turmoil, he clasps my hand in his and trails kisses down my wrist. His gesture has something reverent in it, and the moisture he leaves on my hand mesmerizes me. I can’t seem to peel my eyes away. “Bria, how can you wish to touch and comfort me? How can you caress the same person who caused you the most pain? Comfort the one person who’s not at all worthy of it? How can you touch the same person who said those horrible things to you back then, terrible lies out of the mouth of a complete sinner?” I just stare at him in disbelief, and a fine line spreads on his forehead. Maybe I’m already dead and haven’t noticed it. Perhaps I took too many aspirin with too much wine. I look at the aspirin foil. It is intact. My body trembles with Damien’s closeness, but my mind is far away. He snatches the packet from my hand, and his brows snaps together. “What the fuck are these, Bria? What are these pills?” He shakes me, but I still can’t utter any words. “Answer me, Bria, or I’ll force you to retch! Do you really enjoy making me lose my damn mind? I am on the brink of my sanity here, and you are not helping.” The force of his voice rattles the walls. Is he for real? I manage to find a few words. “It’s aspirin. I have a headache,” I lie. “Stop deceiving me, Bria. It kills me how easily you can lie while looking me straight in my face.” He clenches my upper arms, and I tilt my head up. “When did it become so effortless for you, my sweet baby? Can you remember the day I told you I wanted to corrupt your innocence but hoped it would still be there shining in your hazel eyes? What have I done?”
About The Author
Drenching blank sheets in feelings. Nivia Borell is a contemporary romance author, voracious reader, nature lover, star gazer, day dreamer. She spends her nights deciding between getting up to write, and staying in bed and forgetting the assault of her characters on her sleep (the battle is never ending). She has a weakness for tormented characters, second chances, and happy endings. While writing is her biggest passion, her husband, family, and books are her greatest loves. For updates, news, and releases be sure to visit Nivia’s official website at www. niviaborell.com.She loves hearing and connecting with her readers.
I stand there for a moment, enjoy the view and letting my imagination fill in the blanks. But I want more than imagination, and so I peel off the nightgown and let it drop onto the floor. I don’t usually sleep in one unless there are guests in the house, but I’d been wearing it on the couch last night, and Damien hadn’t undressed me when he put me to bed.
Now, I stand naked and watch the shape of him move in the steam. I’d been aroused even before I entered this room, simply from the thought of him. But now, seeing him in this wet heat, my body is on overdrive. My nipples are hard, my sex clenching with need. I want his touch—and I damn well intend to have it.
His back is to me when I open the door, his face in the pounding water. I’ve let a wash of cool air in, though, and he turns to face me. As he does, I see the heat flare in his eyes. More interesting, though, is the way his cock hardens, the immediacy of his reaction making absolutely clear that Damien has no objections to my joining him here this morning.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I press a finger over his lips, then step closer. He’s almost finished his shower, so his body is no longer slick with soap. I consider that a good thing, because as I kiss his chest, he tastes fresh and clean.
I move slowly down, licking his skin, teasing the light smattering of hair on his chest. I flick my tongue over his nipple and am rewarded by the way he grabs my hair, his body stiffening beneath my hands that are sliding down his body, too, keeping time with the progress of my kisses.
I go lower, dropping to my knees as I reach his navel. His abs are rock hard and the muscles quiver under my lips. I can tell I’m driving him crazy, and he tightens his grip on my hair even as his other hand reaches for the side of the stall to steady himself.
Lower and lower, my lips teasing his skin, tracing that magical line of hair that leads from just below his navel all the way down to his cock. And when I reach it, thick and wet, I draw my tongue along the velvet steel as Damien moans under my ministrations.
With purposeful slowness, I lick around the head, then flick the end of my tongue over the tip, tasting the pre-come. Then I draw him in, and as I do, the hand that Damien has twined in my hair shifts to the back of my head. At first he just holds me steady, but as I suck in long, deep strokes, he groans with satisfaction and longing, and tightens his grip.
Right now, I’m the one in control, but I can feel that control slipping from me. No, not slipping. Damien is grabbing it by grabbing me—by holding tight to my hair and keeping me in place as he fucks my mouth, totally turning the tables on me.
But I don’t care. I’m too turned on to care, and as his cock fills my mouth and water pounds down over us, I slip my hand between my legs and touch myself, then whimper softly. I’m slick and swollen and so turned on it’s painful, and as I suck my husband’s cock, I tease myself, seeking release.
I’m close, too, so close I can feel electricity filling my body like an approaching thunderstorm. I can feel the tension building in Damien, too, and I know the explosion is coming.
Doesn’t matter. He pulls back, leaving my mouth open in surprise. Then he pulls me to my feet and turns me around, his hands gliding over my wet skin as he spins me. “Hands on the wall,” he demands, and I comply eagerly as his fingers slide over my ass to find my core. And then his cock is there, and he’s pounding inside of me, his hands tight on my breasts as he orders me to “finish what you started, baby. Touch yourself. I want to feel you come with me.”
I don’t hesitate, and as Damien’s wet body slaps against mine—as he thrusts deeper and deeper inside me—I tease my clit, feeling the shockwaves gather inside me, readying for an explosion.
And when Damien’s body goes rigid—when he thrusts hard that one final time—when he releases completely inside me, that’s when I finally go over, my deep cry of satisfaction ringing out in harmony with his as our bodies shake and quiver together from the force of our simultaneous release.
When the shockwaves have faded, he turns me gently in his arms, then rinses me off before shutting off the stream of warm water. He opens the door, and steam curls into the rest of the bathroom.
He leads me out onto the fluffy bathmat, then uses a thick, cotton towel to dry me off.
Only then do I lean my head back, smile, and speak to him for the first time. “Good morning, Mr. Stark.”
“Yes,” he says, matching my grin. “It is.”
