Page 1 of Forever His (The Donovans: Secret Son #6)

Tia Donovan

Tia knew how to take care of her man.

She knew just what Trent needed after all the stress he’d been going through. Probably because she needed this just as much as he did.

After being married for five years, having a son, and traveling the world, they’d created their own personal oasis in the master bedroom of their Laguna Beach home.

Decorated in white and shades of gray they’d truly transformed the space until it catered to their every need.

Aside from the king sized bed with its soft gray tuck and button headboard, the plush white comforter and sheets and numerous pillows, there were two white arm chairs at the foot of the bed all atop a plush gray and white rug that Tia loved to step onto first thing in the morning.

Ten feet forward were two steps leading into the sunken sitting area where there were two gray couches, another thick and soft rug, the large flat screen television that Trent required and patio doors leading out to the balcony with its gorgeous view of the Pacific Ocean.

That’s where he was at almost eleven o’clock at night.

Sitting on the couch wearing thin black sweatpants he’d donned as soon as his after dinner workout and shower were completed.

His chest was bare, a large tribal tattoo stretching from his lower back to wrap around his right hip.

That was something Trent had done while he was in the Navy, a symbol of freedom and strength as he’d explained to her.

Tia found it sexy, just like her husband.

In one large hand he held the remote control—because it was virtually impossible for him to sit in front of a television and not change the channels repeatedly.

On the screen, Tia had no idea what was playing, probably one of those drama series with corrupt family members plotting to kill each other over drug deals or some other criminal enterprise.

Those were the shows Trent liked, in addition to an action packed movie he could find.

Her favorites to watch were more of the home renovating and decorating shows and the occasional love story.

Just another difference between her and Trent Donovan that Tia had come to accept.

She walked slowly, leaving the master bathroom.

There was another place Tia loved to unwind and relax in with its deep soaking tub, the Cresta White glazed porcelain tiled floors, marble countertops and large glass encased shower.

She’d taken a lengthy soak in the tub after putting Trevor to bed and reviewing some of her latest photo shots in her office.

By the time she’d finished Trent was just coming out of the bathroom and settling in his spot for the night.

Her husband—Trent Donovan, ex Navy SEAL and former member of the Triple Threat Donovans—had a spot on the couch he liked to sit in each night before going to bed. How incredible was that?

As she’d sat in the fragrant bubble water Tia let herself reflect on how blessed she was.

She’d come a long way from the emotionally scarred woman who had almost let love and happiness slip through her fingers.

Now, she was much more settled in her life and her career, enjoying and appreciating every blessing that had been sent her way.

And trying like hell to not like the disconcerting news she’d received a couple weeks ago get her down.

That’s why her steps had a purpose tonight, the vanilla scented lotion she’d rubbed over her body had a meaning.

The simple long sheer black gown she wore with slits up to each thigh would get the job done.

There was also pride, the moment she stepped down into the sitting room, crossing his line of sight and coming to a stop just beneath where the television had been mounted on the wall.

Tia had designed the gown she wore, or rather she’d expressed her idea to Camille and the idea had eventually become this finished product.

With silk t-straps on each shoulder the soft sheer material cupped her generous breasts and seamlessly hugged her slender waist down to the curve of her hips.

There was no back, not until the sheer material started again at the crease of her bottom.

Black peep toe pumps were on her feet and the diamond choker Trent had given her last Christmas sparkled at her neck.

Trent lifted his arm, aiming the remote above her head and turned off the television. Setting it on the glass toped table beside him he let both his hands fall to his thighs.

“Come here,” he said, his voice that deep and seductive tone she knew she’d never tire of hearing.

Tia walked to him then, not the quick prance of being on a runway, but a slower stroll that gave him time to take in everything he was seeing.

As she wore nothing beneath the sheer gown he was, in fact, seeing everything from her pert dark nipples to her cleanly shaved mound.

By the time she came to a stop in front of him she could already see his arousal tenting his pants.

“Is this one of yours?” he asked, without moving a muscle.

She smiled. “It is,” Tia replied and then turned around slowly, pausing for a few seconds so he could take in the back of the gown before turning to face him again.

“Do you like it?”

His response was to slowly lick his lips. Such a slow and enticing motion that Tia’s center pulsated in response.

“I love it,” was his eventual response.

She took another step forward, until she was standing between his now open legs. “Show me how much.”

There was only a moment’s pause, a purposeful halt as he continued to watch her, knowing every sensation that was rippling through her in that moment.

When he finally moved it was to push down his sweatpants just enough to reveal his dark thick length.

Holding it in his hands he stroked from the base to the crest all while keeping his eyes on hers.

She kept her gaze locked on him as well but lifted both hands to cup her breasts.

Tia tweaked her nipples and enjoyed the guttural moan that escaped him.

It was the desired response, the one she knew from making love to this man more times than she could count, would come on command.

It was like that now, the orchestrated, yet whimsical, dance between husband and wife.

It was the desire for passion and completion and the knowledge that it would come, sometimes fast and potently, other times slow and languorously.

Either way, this was what wedded bliss was all about.

Tonight, it didn’t matter how, only that it came—only that they both did.

With fingers continuing to toy with one nipple, Tia lowered her other hand, sliding slowly over the material covering her torso and her stomach, down further until her fingers whispered over her juncture.

The material was soft against her sensitized skin and she gasped as the sensation sent pleasure tendrils rippling through her body.

Trent moved as he took his pants completely off.

He sat back on the couch again, this time his legs spread even wider, his length jutting upward, ready for her attention

This is the part where she would pull her dress up and straddle him. She would ride him until they both were sweating and screaming each other’s name. It was the good part, Tia thought. But tonight she wanted a little more.

“Take the dress off,” he instructed.

She paused only briefly, with enough time to look down at his length and lick her lips appreciatively.

“I got what you need, baby,” Trent told her adoringly. “Just do what I say right now.”

Tia lifted the dress up and over her head.

“That’s my girl,” he continued. “Now, give me your leg.”

She lifted her leg until the tip of her shoe rested on the edge of the couch.

Trent cupped her knee, then circled his hand around until he was rubbing down her calf, then back up, slowly toward her thigh.

He sat up a little as his hand cupped her ass and pulled her close.

She almost stumbled, but Trent was strong and he had a tight grip on her.

“I want you right here,” he said and grabbed her around the waist, positioning her until her legs were around his shoulders. He held her tightly in those strong arms and Tia gasped when his breath whispered warmly over her exposed flesh.

“Up close and personal,” Trent said. “That’s how I like you.”

When he came closer, his tongue extended to give a teasing lick of the tight bud of her clit Tia leaned forward, her hands grasping the back of the couch.

Trent was holding her up to his face, his mouth gorging on her center as if she was a generous feast. The sound of his licking against her moistened folds was erotic as hell.

The feel of his warm tongue twisting and turning, up and down her slit, felt so good she trembled all over.

And then she called out his name. “Trent!”

Of course she said his name, over and over again. It was so simple, pleasure equaled her husband and her husband, the love of her life was, “Trent.”

When she thought she would shatter into tiny little pieces, the release ripping through her so shockingly intense that for seconds she didn’t even think she’d breathed, Trent pulled his mouth away from her, letting her down slowly until she lay back on the couch.

With slow movements Tia reached for him, gripping his erection as he shifted himself and moved between her legs.

She held him there, stroking him from his base to his tip, letting her fingers rub over the creamy filled slit.

He moaned and she continued, jerking him in practiced motions as he pumped eagerly into her hand.

When she used her other hand to rub over his sack, it was his turn to whisper her name.

Only it was more than a whisper, rather a strained syllable escaping through his clenched teeth. “Tia.”