He never moved again. Her husband was dead.Shaking her self mentally she hurried down the stairs. By the door she grabbed her books and out she went. ...wo beautiful horses stood, saddled, and perfectly groomed, at the foot of the stair. She wasn't afraid to ride. Her husbands' death wasn't the fault of the horse. Or anyone's. It just was.Touching Anthony's back, out of habit, simply to let him know where she was, Amanda stuffed the books into the saddlebags and mounted. The spirited horse. Not kissing gently. Feasting. As if it was his last meal. I was lost in the pleasure of his lips and his tongue and his fingers and came so easily and wonderfully that it tingled all over my body. This went on forever. He'd bring me right to the edge, that point where your back arches and you know it's coming, and then he'd pause, building me to the highest possible points. More kisses, tasting myself, and then he pulled me to my feet. I really wasn't sure what he was doing and then he said. More

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