She writhed and gripped his hair. This should be embarrassing, but Ian was kissing all of the discomfort out of her. And as he rucked her shirt up and laid those sexy lips to her stomach, fingers gripping her sides, she forgot exactly why she was supposed to be embarrassed. Ian was touching her as if he knew the exact map of her body, and his confidence eased any leftover nervous flutters.
Unrelenting, he pulled her shirt over her loose hair and unsnapped her bra, then slid it off her arms. His fingers were steady—slow and controlled. Heat pooled in her middle as he unsnapped the button of her jeans. The material tickled as he pulled it past her hips and knees, slower at her bandaged ankle, then off completely with a smile at the messy pile he was leaving on her floor.
The smile lingered as his gaze went first to her eyes, then lower and lower. His breath caught as he stared at her body. Running a soft touch over her knee, he shook his head as though he’d never seen anyone more beautiful. “I’ve imagined…” Ian swallowed hard. “It’s not the same.”
She wanted to cry at his admiration. Softly, she admitted, “I haven’t ever let anyone see me like this. In the light.”
A slight frown marred his face, making the color of his eyes intensify somehow. “Good. I want to be the only one who sees you like this.” He ran his finger over the top of her thigh and whispered in a distracted voice, “Perfect. Your skin isn’t even scarred.”
Regret had tainted his tone, so she lifted her knee and rested her injured leg up on the mattress. “I have scars now, too, Ian. We match.”
Pulling his oil-stained T-shirt over his head, Ian murmured, “I want to feel your skin against mine.”
“Wait,” she said as he settled a knee on the bed to lower himself. “I want to look at you, too.”
Ian hesitated for a moment, then stood back up and rested his hands at his sides, clenching his fists, as if being scrutinized made him as uncomfortable as it used to make her. Strong, wide shoulders and a thick neck. A deep, shadowed indentation between his muscular pecs delved down to a defined eight-pack that flexed with every breath. There were scars, but now they’d been explained away. He was a bear, a big one, a dominant brawler who had been born to bear the long, red marks. She didn’t mind them at all. In fact… “I think you’re perfect, too.”
His chin dropped, and his gaze lowered to the mass of red on his ribcage. For as strong and confident as Ian was, being marked by the struggles of his existence obviously bothered him. Elyse sat up and ran her hands lightly over his chest and the muscular curves of his arms, then down to his ribs to the scars. Pressing forward, she pursed her lips softly against the uneven skin there. “This,” she whispered, “means you’re still alive and here with me. Whatever happened and however you got it doesn’t matter.” She kissed it once more and looked up at him, then unbuttoned the top clasp of his jeans. “Have you shown them to anyone else?”
He huffed a small breath. “How could I explain them away to a bedmate?”
“So then they’re only for me.”
His face softened from a steely expression to one of thoughtfulness.
She kissed his ribs again and said, “This is mine, and you are mine, just like I’m yours, Ian. Don’t regret them. I love them. I love everything about you.”
“Even the animal?”
The rip of his zipper was loud in the silence that hung between them. “Especially the animal.”
“Why?” he asked quietly as she carefully pushed his pants down his hips.
“Because without him, you would’ve been settled with someone else long before you found me.”
Ian’s oversize, calloused hand cupped her cheek gently, and his eyes filled with some emotion too big for her to understand. Elyse leaned forward and kissed just beside his belly button, then bit him gently on the strip of defined muscle that covered his hip bone. A shudder took his body as she pushed the elastic band of his briefs down, unsheathing his long, thick erection. It was every bit as intimidating as when it was shielded behind his jeans, and the nervous flutters were back in her belly with a vengeance.
She blew a soft breath over the swollen tip, and it throbbed once in a sexy reaction that drew a smile from her lips. Ian put his hands behind his head, gripping his hair as if he were trying to control his urge to hold her instead.
“You can touch me. Tell me what you like.” Because sure as shit she wasn’t going to be any good at this. Cole had been a man of many complaints.
Ian’s chest heaved with his breath as he slid one of his hands around the back of her head and clenched her hair in a gentle grasp. His nostrils flared above her as he pulled her toward him. She slid her mouth over him, and his hips jerked. “Sorry,” he murmured, loosening his grip.