He looks confused for a second until I drag my fingers over his throat again, and recognition lights up his face. With a visible swallow, he brushes his fingertips over his throat the same way I did.
Wrapping an arm around him, I dip my thumb into the hollow of his throat, my lips parting as I stare at my hands on him in the mirror.
His eyes flutter closed. “Eyes open, sweetheart,” I whisper, my voice thick.
Forcing them open, he follows the path my thumb took when I dropped my hand.
His back rises against my chest with each measured breath he inhales. “Want to keep going?” I whisper.
“Yes,” he croaks out.
I settle my palm over his heart, feeling the rapid beating of it. His eyes flick down to where I’m touching him. I know he can see his scar this way, but so far he hasn’t seemed to stare directly at it.
Taking my hand away, I watch in rapt fascination, my throat going dry as Theo takes over, placing his hand over his heart. I’m surprised when he drops his head against my shoulder and slides it up, cupping his throat with it before moving it back to his heart.
Dusting my fingers over his ribs, I fight a smile when he whimpers and the bulge in the front of his jeans grows. Dipping my head close to his ear, I whisper, “Is this turning you on, sweetheart?”
He nods, his fingers following the path of mine without me saying a word.
“This body is strength, Theo. It’s proof that he tried to break you and failed. This body fought for life. Clung to it. There’s nothing ugly about that.”
I place the flat of my hand over his sternum, pausing when he inhales a sharp breath. “Still okay?”
His voice is shaky when he whispers a near-silent “Yeah.”
I grip his hips, and his eyes fall to the movement. My fingers are splayed wide over his body, the part of his scar that ends over his hip resting under my fingers.
Chapter 34
Theo
I’maching.Mycockand my heart. It’s a strange combination.
Hunter’s fingers are gripping me solidly, resting over one of the worst parts of my scar.
“I don’t understand how you see anything but damage.” The words come out of my mouth, but I’m not sure I meant to say them.
Nuzzling my throat, Hunter hums, fingers flexing. I do have to admit, his hands on my body look pretty fucking good. I want him touching me all the time.
“Because it’s not damage, gorgeous. It’s strength and resilience and fire. All wrapped up in one gorgeous fucking man I’m lucky enough to call mine.”
His left hand moves slowly, covering my stomach and most of my scar before it falls away. “Now you,” he whispers.
My throat convulses as I follow his lead, placing my palm on my stomach. I try very hard to pretend this doesn’t exist, and the raised flesh feels strange, given that I hardly ever touch it.
“It’s not damage,” Hunter murmurs. “Say it.”
Oh, I’m not sure I can do that. I shake my head. He nuzzles my throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin. I can feel his hard cock against my ass, and it’s making everything so much more confusing and intense.
He was literally touching my scar, had his entire hand pressed to it, and he’s still hard. His eyes are still burning with want.
I swallow, then take a deep breath. “It’s not damage.” It’s barely a whisper, but Hunter doesn’t seem to care.
“It’s proof of survival.”
Well, I guess I’ve gotta give him that one. “It’s proof of survival.”
That one is easier to get out. Mostly because it feels more true.
