With a twist, he spun me, backed me toward the blanket, laid me down. Pressed me into the ground with his weight, crushing and restraining and the closest thing to perfect that I could imagine. His skin was on fire, smooth and silken over hard muscle, and my hands learned every curve, every valley. Every ridge and every dip. His kiss deepened, hips rolling, body pinning me, hand sliding from my jaw to my neck, gripping it only strong enough to keep me still. And there his hand stayed, though his lips strayed down, collarbone to breastbone to breast. Hot mouth over peaked nipple, soaking the silk between tongue and flesh. Without permission, my back arched in offering, neck held to the ground, hips grinding his torso, hating the distance between us. But he didn’t linger. He released my neck, hand taking the place of his tongue on my breast, teasing my nipple tighter as he moved down my ribs, spending a long moment acquainting himself with the dip of my belly button.

Flashes of what he was about to do burst behind closed lids. Anticipation, the tip of my desire aching in wait for connection. And that wait was excruciating as his nose dragged the flat of my stomach, down the nude silk of my panties, around the peak of my hood, circling the tender flesh before trailing down, down the line of me. The flat of his tongue in the valley of my body, wide lips closing to draw me into his mouth.

My lungs expanded with a tear of pleasure, contracted with a sigh of release. Heavy lids crept open, seeing first the moonlit glass of the greenhouse, smattered and streaked with rain. Down to the lush mum blossoms dotting a thicket of green. Down to the black of Kash’s hair, my pale fingers buried in his locks. The draw of his brows in concentration, the crescents of black lashes against his cheeks. The flat of his strong nose.

The pink of his swollen lips. The glimpse of his tongue. The anatomy of my body, every detail visible through the drenched silk.

I whispered his name, and his lids fluttered open, hand hooking my thigh, hitching it wide. His other hand trailed the hem of my panties next to his mouth, slid underneath. Found my heat, spread me open. Slipped inside.

My head lolled, lids too heavy. His hands grazed my breasts, annoyed to find them sheathed. Clumsily, impatiently, I shifted to unhook my bra, sliding it off my arms, tossing it away. And then, Kash was impatient too. He broke away, leaving the wet fabric cool and sensitive without the hot pressure of his mouth. Square fingers hooked in the hips of my panties and tugged them down my thighs, over the bend of my knees, off my feet, gone.