"Tank—"
“Devin,” he corrects, and I stare at him in shock.It fits him.Devin fits him so much more than Tank does.This side of him is Devin, and I love it.
“Devin,” I repeat and watch as he kneels in front of me, hands resting on my thighs.
"Let me show you.Let me prove it."
He leans in and presses a kiss to my shoulder, then another, before trailing his lips across my collarbone and down to the hollow of my throat.Slow.Worshipful.
My breath catches.Hands tangle in his hair.
"Enya," he murmurs against my skin."Say you want this."
"I want this."
"Say it again."
"I want this."Louder now.More certain.
His hands slide up to the waistband of my jeans, fingers hooking in.He looks up at me, asking permission with his eyes.
I nod.
He undoes the button.The zipper.Helps me shimmy out of the denim until I'm sitting there in just my bra and underwear, heart pounding, skin flushed with want and fear and something I can't name.
"Lie back," he says.
I do.The sheets are cool against my skin, smelling like detergent and him.
He stands, shedding the rest of his clothes, and I watch.Watch the way his body moves, the flex of muscle, the ink and scars that map a life I don't know yet.
Then he's beside me on the bed, propped on one elbow, just looking.
"I'm going to do this right," he says quietly."The way I should've done it the first time.Slow.Careful.And I'm going to say your name until you believe you're the only person I'm thinking about.Yeah?"
My throat closes.I nod.
"I need to hear you say it."
"Yeah," I whisper."Okay."
He leans down and kisses me again.It’s soft and sweet and devastating in its gentleness.
Then his mouth moves lower.
Time becomes meaningless.
There's only sensation.His mouth on my skin, his hands tracing patterns that make me gasp.His voice, rough and constant, saying my name like a prayer.
Enya.
Christ, Enya.
You're so fucking beautiful, Enya.
Every time he says it, something inside me loosens.Some knot of fear or doubt unraveling.
He takes his time.Kisses every inch of me—the ink on my arms, the scar on my hip I got from a childhood accident, the soft skin of my inner thighs.He worships me with his mouth and hands until I'm shaking, desperate, and begging him for more.
