True, Deep and Forever: Part 1
Book 5 of The Dark and Damaged Hearts
One marriage ... a second chance at love
Eight years ago their love was instantaneous, all-consuming and intense. Garret Banks had to have Amy Shaw the moment he met her, and no one thought the flame would ever go out.
Now, they have everything they’ve ever wanted: great careers, a beautiful baby, and a rock-solid marriage. Or do they? Garret’s high-stress architectural job is taking its toll. Amy's predicaments would be hilarious if they didn't make her want to cry. And to make matters worse, her ex is back in the picture, demanding answers about the wild passion she left behind — answers she isn’t willing to give.
Garret and Amy grab quick, dirty sex while they can, but in between mommy wars, annoying in-laws, sleep deprivation and fears of betrayal, their marriage is put to the test time and time again. Once they were sure love conquers all, but how far can one marriage bend before it snaps?
“Did
you just roll your eyes at me, young lady?” he asked, stalking back to the
couch. His eyelids dropped to half-mast, and his pupils were damn near the size
of dinner plates. He looked fierce and dead sexy.
I
grinned at him, catching his wavelength and deciding to run with it. I hadn’t
been craving sex at all that day, or that week for that matter, but Garret’s
sudden mood change sparked a need that I’d been suppressing since James’
wedding. “I might have.” My cheeks grew warm. “What are you going to do about
it?”
“You
better run, little girl!” He growled, the timbre of his voice gravelly and
whisky-thick.
I
stared at him with intrigue. My mouth went dry and my nipples pearled. I
attempted to swallow but struggled.
His
eyebrows rose on his forehead in query. “Now!”
Squealing,
I leaped off the couch and ran for the stairs. Like any stupid heroine in a
horror flick, I decided to head up rather than down. Only my pursuer hadn’t any
intention of cutting off my head, so I wasn’t too concerned with my choice of
direction.
I’d
made it halfway up the stairs before big, warm hands grabbed me around the
waist and plastered my back against the wall. His body covered mine, and his
head lowered. His lips roamed across my face. My thighs trembled as he kneed
them apart, rubbing his blatant erection against my core. A strangled cry escaped
me at the sudden snap of pleasure. But he silenced me, his mouth capturing
mine, consuming me, bruising my lips with the savagery of his desire. His
tongue explored and caressed, taking everything from me and giving me everything
he had in return as his hands deftly undressed me. First the buttons on my
blouse, followed by the front clasp of my bra, then my slacks. Everything fell to
the floor in a matter of seconds, pooling at my feet and leaving me in nothing
but my thong.
He pushed my thong aside, brushing my clit with
his thumb. His eyes drank in my reaction as I pushed into him, shamelessly riding
his hand. I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning as I ran my hands up his
chest, fervently working free the buttons of his dress shirt. My fingers trembled
and lost their grip each time he rubbed my clit.
God,
I was needy.
I
made quick work of the zipper on his pants and he kicked them free, along with
his socks and boxers. I stood there against the wall of the stairs, family
portraits staring back at me in judgment as my husband raked my body with his
hungry eyes, my pussy clenching from his heated stare. Jesus, he was sexy.
Without thinking, I licked my lips and moved a hand down my stomach, dipping a
finger between my folds, surprised to find myself wet.
“Are
you wet?” he asked, his thick cock resting against his belly.
I
nodded.
“How
do you taste?”
I
brought one finger up to my mouth and licked it. Pure pleasure flared to life
in his eyes.
“Salty
and sweet, maybe a little sour.”
He
hummed. A wily smile took over his face. “Just how I like it.” And before I
knew it, my ass was in his hands and my ankles around his waist as he drove
home in one solid thrust. My eyes flashed wide at the sudden impact. His
thrusts picked up speed. In and out he pumped; my head knocked hard against the
wall, and the slap of flesh against flesh drowned out the din of our harsh
breathing. The world stopped as our bodies moved in tandem, the pleasure
building quickly between us as we both fought the need to come, determined to
hold on just a little longer and prolong the ecstasy.
I
bit his pec just above his heart to keep from screaming, relishing the
brutality of his passion. He let out a low hiss, his fingers digging into my
hips and kneading my ass cheeks as he continued to hammer me into the wall. I
was close, so damn close, and he knew it, because before I could blink I was on
my hands facing the carpet, my breasts swaying beneath me as he gripped my hips
and ploughed into me just like before. He set the rhythm to fast and hard until
I all I could do was feel. Thinking had become impossible, thoughts faded like
distant memories, while worries fled as if being chased.
A hand came around me and pinched my clit. Pleasure
and pain and so much sensation commingled at that point that the only thing I
could do was chant his name and pray for release.
“I’m
close,” I sobbed. His fingers on my clit alternated between rough circles and
devilish pinches. “Do you … do you have a condom?”
I
heard him groan behind me, then mutter a few profanities, all the while still
sliding in and out, never breaking rhythm or speed. Then he was out. No
warning, nothing. One second he was inside me, and the next he wasn’t. I was overcome
with a sense of loss, of need. I was empty, and I hated it.
“Come
on!” he growled, scooping me and running up the stairs. “I fucking hate
condoms!” He carried me to the bedroom. “We’re married, for Christ’s sake. I
shouldn’t have to wear a goddamn rubber!”
He
tossed me on the bed hard enough to make me bounce, then lunged, covering my
body with his and impaling me. One hand found my breast, and fingers tweaked
and pulled at my nipple, sending a maelstrom of sensation straight to my clit. The
other hand rummaged around in his nightstand. The sound of wrappers and paper
filled the air.
He
finally came up with his bounty and tore it between his teeth, sitting up for
the briefest of seconds to roll it on. He was inside me again within seconds,
grabbing the backs of my thighs and pushing my knees into my chest, going deep
and hitting every nerve ending I had. The need to come built hard and fast
inside me as I grappled at his back, sliding my hands down to cup the muscular
globes of his clenching butt cheeks. They were hard and powerful beneath my
palms as he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside of me.
I
broke with a sharp cry, arching my body into his as my head flew back into the
pillows. Stars flew behind my eyes. I spiraled up to the pinnacle only to come
crashing back down. My husband, buried deep inside me, stilled, moaned, dropped
his head to the spot where my neck met my shoulder, bit me hard and snarled as
he came.
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