Deep River Promise Jackie Ashenden (best life changing books .txt) 📖

at her jeans, and she lifted herself so he could strip them down and off, taking her panties with them. His hands stroked her, building her pleasure, making her shake.

There was a brief, desperate moment where he paused to unzip himself and get out a condom, and she saw that his hands were shaking too. It thrilled her. And then she forgot about that as he gripped her hips, pulling her closer, so she was up against the hard, muscled heat of his body. That delicious scent of sandalwood and spice surrounded her, his hands firm; he was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it and how to make it good for her. His certainty and confidence were unbelievably attractive.

He was a man she could count on. Who gave his word and kept it.

His hands were hot on her hips as he pulled her even closer, fitting her right up against him. The blue of his eyes had turned darker, like midnight, drawing her in; she couldn’t look away.

He didn’t wait, pushing inside her in one long, slow movement that tore a gasp of pleasure from her. He felt so good there, as if that’s where he was supposed to be.

“Astrid.” He said her name on a sigh, his voice impossibly deep, pausing as if he had to take a moment to get his breath back.

She knew the feeling. He felt insanely good.

Her arms tightened around his neck and she smiled. Heat flickered like a bonfire in his gaze, and he was looking at her with wonder and awe and a certain amount of amazement. It thrilled her. Had anyone ever looked at her that way?

His grip on her tightened, and he drew his hips back, sliding out of her before thrusting back in, a steady, driving movement. Pleasure broke through in a warm, golden wave and she gave a soft, gasping laugh at the sheer joy of it. “Wow. You’re something else, Damon Fitzgerald.”

His mouth curved in the most wholly beautiful smile she’d ever seen, but he didn’t say anything. And he didn’t kiss her either. He only looked down into her eyes, sharing the pleasure with her.

The world fell away; there was only him. Inside her, around her, everywhere. Only the pleasure that lifted her up and up, higher and higher with each thrust of his lean hips. Only the heat in his eyes that surrounded her, his astonishing smile that enveloped her.

This is special. This is something you want to have again.

But she dismissed the thought. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the pleasure that filled her, that she gave to him and he gave to her, an unbreakable current shared between them, getting more and more intense.

They didn’t say anything. Nothing needed to be said. They understood each other completely.

Then he put one hand at the small of her back, steadying her as he thrust, deeper, harder, urging her closer as his other hand slipped between her thighs, stroking her.

The pleasure fractured in a wild rush, glittering golden shards scattering light everywhere inside her, making her gasp his name as she gave herself up to it, watching his face as it came for him too. Electricity flared in his eyes, his movements becoming wilder and out of sync. Then he stiffened and said her name hoarsely, ecstasy rippling over his beautiful face.

For a long moment afterward, neither of them moved. She found herself leaning against his hard body, her arms around his neck, her face pressed to the soft fabric of his T-shirt. Pleasure echoed through her and she wanted to enjoy it for as long as she could.

Because this moment was going to end and it would end soon.

Regret twisted inside her, bittersweet. But this was what she’d wanted and the only reason she could have it was because he was leaving. This pure, uncomplicated moment of pleasure was all she could allow herself, and now that she’d had it, she couldn’t regret it.

His breathing was rough and ragged in her ear, his arms holding her steady. Then he lifted his head, and she knew from the expression on his face that the moment between them was ending. The regret tightened, but she ignored it.

Instead she smiled. “Thank you,” she said, her voice husky.

He smiled back, warmer than the sunlight outside. “You’re welcome.” He brushed a ghost of a kiss over her mouth. “Now, let me make you presentable again.”

He dressed her with care, and she let him because she liked him touching her. His hands were gentle as they eased her off the desk, helping her back into her panties and jeans and pulling them up. Then he handed her her bra and she put it on, letting him pull down her silky T-shirt over the top.

She smoothed her hair back behind her ears, while he got rid of the condom and put his own clothing back to rights.

Then there was nothing left to smooth, nothing left to adjust.

The moment was over.

She turned around, ignoring the pinching sensation behind her breastbone, concentrating on the next task at hand, which was Phil’s books.

Damon said nothing.

She went over to the shelves, ignoring the deepening silence, pulling the books she needed off them before coming back to the desk. Then she issued them via the computer.

“There,” she said, trying to ignore her heartbeat that was doing strange things inside her rib cage, speeding up and slowing down like a restless child who couldn’t sit still. “Phil’s books.”

He’d put himself back together again, the only signs of the pleasure they’d shared the remains of a red stain on his high cheekbones and the crackle of electricity in his blue eyes. His hands were thrust into his pockets and his smile had faded. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was as if that instant of closeness had never happened.

Her heart twisted again, harder this time, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see it. This was silly. Where was this