This was not something that Liam had ever experienced, being touched like he was something precious, something to be wanted and not just something to be put to use. It was overwhelming, and if he wasn't careful he might drown in the sheer thrilling rush of it. If he wasn't careful, he'd put a name to the feeling that the other man stirred in him every time they spoke, every time he saw Riley's number come up on his phone or his text messages. And wouldn't that be a dangerous thing, to voice it even in the silence of his own mind.

Liam's breath trembled past his lips as the kiss broke, head falling to the side with a soft, wordless sound of appreciation and encouragement. Riley's lips felt like absolution, as if each touch could wash away another sin. Heaven knew he had so very man staining his hands and what remained of his demon-held soul. He realized with a breathtaking clarity just where the other man's lips were touching so gently, had tried to avert his eyes from the ugly mark left at his neck in the mirror earlier. Of course Riley had seen it, but somehow he graced it with that gentle, sweet touch rather than taking it as further reason that Liam was a damaged, tainted thing that he ought to run from as fast as his legs could carry him.

His fingers slipped into soft strands of long hair once more, holding like the priest was his lifeline. Another slow roll of his hips, another quiet gasp of pleasure. "Riley..." and then his name, just his name, the first time he'd spoken it rather than calling him by his title.