“I can see the edges of your scars where they wrap around your ribs and over your shoulder. And the scars on your face. And while my heart breaks for you that this happened to you, I see nothing but courage and bravery and a desire to survive. And thick lips that I love wrapped around my cock as much as I like listening to the words that fall from them.”
 
 I see tears glisten in her eyes. “Don’t cry, precious. I see you. I really fucking see you. And I want to be the man who is there by your side as you step back into the obvious power you had. Whatever that looks like now.”
 
 A tear slips over her lashes, and I scoop it up with my thumb and suck it into my mouth.
 
 “How were you hurt?” she asks, before kissing me tenderly. “Honestly.”
 
 I continue to thrust into her slowly as I debate for a moment whether telling her goes against club rules. And then I realize it doesn’t matter to me whether it is or not. “Halo’s half-brother was trying to kill him and Lola. He had us cornered. I don’t remember the actual incident, but Halo told me I stepped between him and a man who was about to slam a large rock on his head. I took the brunt of the rock. Twice.”
 
 She slips her hand to my head, where the worst of my scars are. “You know what I see when I look at you?”
 
 I thread my hand into her hair and tug tightly. “I’m fucking dying to know.” I want nothing more than to know how she sees me.
 
 “I see an incredibly loyal man. A man who puts the saving of a life over taking it, in a world where the latter is regarded more highly than the former. I see a man who cares deeply about other people. A man who would face his own death before he allowed a friend to be injured. A man who gave away his freedom to give me mine. I see a man who has accommodated my every need without question, who has found solutions to every problem we have come up against, and yet has never made me feel like we are less than partners when his peers view their partners as property.”
 
 I slide her hair back over her ear. “I’m still going to ask you to wear a property patch.”
 
 “And I’ll wear it because I know you see me as so much more than that.”
 
 I pull her to me again and kiss her, but she pushes on my chest.
 
 “Wait, I’m not finished.”
 
 I grin. “Well, you’d better get on with it because”—I thrust hard into her, balls deep so she can feel every inch of me—“there’s something else I want to finish.”
 
 “Oh, well, I’ll keep it brief. You’re strong. I get hot just looking at your biceps. Your tattoos are the kind Vi writes about in her romance books. Your cock is magic, and I really like the things you do to me with it.”
 
 I can’t help but laugh. “I’ll keep all that in mind.”
 
 “But what I like best,” she says, placing kisses along my jaw. “Is this. The way we are. The way we talk to each other. The way we’re falling in love with each other.”
 
 I thrust into her again “This okay?” I ask.
 
 She nods. “Make love to me, Theo,” she says.
 
 “Mark my chest while I do.”
 
 Sophia flicks the blade open, and I hiss as she presses the tip of the blade to my pec. I feel every millimeter of progress. It’s like a tattoo, maybe a fraction more painful. But, fuck, my wife is riding my cock as she slides the knife along my flesh.
 
 Pleasure and pain combine as I fuck her.
 
 Lazily.
 
 Slowly.
 
 Deep thrusts, pauses.
 
 I feel her heat build.
 
 I feel the knife dig a little deeper, feel the bloom of pain and blood. A letting of everything inside me. I feel the red-hot pinch as she carves the letterSinto my chest.
 
 The friction and tension burn as my breath catches.
 
 I don’t remember all the sex I had in the past decade, but I’d put money on it that none of it felt like this. If it had, I wouldn’t have let that person go. I tug her to me.
 
 “Please,” she begs. “It feels so good.”
 
 “Yeah. I feel it too.” And I change nothing. Because something tells me that when a woman is telling you something feels good, you should keep doing it as is.