It’s only that I hadn’t known this existed.

That Kash existed.

Compliant and yielding, I held on to him, kissed him with feverish lips, with no thought as to what to do and no desire beyond what he could give me. When his hips pressed me against the table, I felt the weight of that desire, hot and hard. I breathed a moan into his mouth, triggering a flex of his hands—one on my jaw, one on my waist—hips shifting at the sound.

The hand on my ass moved to my thigh, gathered my skirt in crawling fingers, hitching it high. His fingertips licked at my skin as he tugged until the fabric was around my waist. Free at last, my thighs parted, making way for his hips to press that solid steel against the seam of my body.

A shock, hot and sharp, shot down my thighs, up my torso, eliciting a gasp that broke the kiss.

When my drunken eyelids parted, they revealed the sight of Kash looking down at me in the moonlight.

His big hand cupped my jaw, thumb stroking my bottom lip in a gesture of ownership, drawing a fluttering flex at my center.

Hot was my desire, pent up and tugging at its chains. And Kash held the key in the palm of his broad hand.

Down my neck that hand moved, down the V of my shirt to unfasten the button between my breasts with a flick of his fingers.

His voice was thick, rough. “When was the last time he made you come?” Flick, and another button undone, along with my composure.

I rolled my hips into his. “A month,” I whispered. “Maybe two.”

“Unacceptable,” he breathed, angling for my lips, his broad hand sliding into my gaping shirt to cup my breast, his calluses snagging on the silk, but I didn’t care. He could shred it to bits if he wanted to.

He could do anything he wanted to.

And as if he heard the thought, he did. A frustrated groan preceded him hooking me around the waist. An answering yelp of surprise as my legs wound around his waist. A giggle against his lips before I kissed him, arms circling his neck to hang on, though my grip was useless. He palmed my ass with one hand, which was strong enough to hold me up while he snatched the flannel blanket off the stool with the other. Gravity shifted as he turned, bouncing as he walked me somewhere unknown, and I didn’t care where. I was too busy tasting him, too occupied with his lips, too absorbed with cataloging the way he felt against me.