And he was charmed that Elin kissed him with her lips closed, just as she’d done years ago. Of course, back then, he’d not known how to kiss either. But he’d learned a thing or two over the years and was eager to teach her. The kiss broke. Their lips barely left each other. Elin whispered, “The horse is running away.” The truth of her words could be heard in the pounding of hooves on the ground. The hobble had apparently been too loose. “I don’t care,” he answered. “I don’t either.” They found each other again . . . only this time, Ben encouraged her lips to part. He tickled her with his tongue, stroked her. She started to laugh, and he took full advantage. With a soft sigh, she was willing to follow his lead, and that was his undoing. Ben leaned her against the stone wall, wanting to cover every inch of her body with his, wanting to be in her body, wanting, wanting her.
