Looking into Ella’s eyes, I felt as if I had come home. But actually I’d never left. There had only ever been one woman with whom I felt like this. Ella. With her channel throbbing around me, enveloping me in her warm, creamy clench, and her skin damp against mine with her nipples tight little points against my chest, time felt as if it was collapsing into itself. The past fell away, the ten years we’d been apart were wiped out in a single moment.

My body took over because my need was that great. I drew back and sank into her again. With her legs curling around my hips as she arched up into me, I began a slow cycle of drawing back and sinking in. I managed to keep it under control at first, but that didn’t last. Before I knew it I was pounding into her, savoring every cry, every gasp from her.

The need was quickening inside of me, tightening at the base of my spine, lashing at me. But I wasn’t going to let go until she did again. I freed one of her hands and reached between us. One swirl of my thumb over her clit, and her channel pulsed around me. She cried out again, my name a chant.

I finally let go, my release crashing over me with such force I lost sight of everything but the feel of her channel milking my cock. I fell against her, rolling quickly so she was on top of me. Still buried deep inside of her, I slid my hand down her spine, my palm coming to rest on her bottom.

We lay still, my breath coming in heaves and emotion rocking me so hard, I almost cried. I tried to recall the last time I’d felt this intensely. The only memory that came to mind was when I saw her in the hospital ten years ago.

So many years wasted, but there was nothing to do other than be relieved she was here now. My hand had a mind of its own and started exploring her body again, sliding up her spine and easing down the soft curve of her side, savoring the swell of her breast into my palm. I reached the area where she carried scars.

She hadn’t seemed self conscious about the scarring, but more worried about my reaction. I hated that. I couldn’t help but wonder if someone had hurt her, reacted to the sight of her scars in a way that left a different kind of scar in its wake.

I traced along the edges of the area again and felt her lift her head. A smile curled her lips, eliciting one from me instantly.

Ella was quiet for a moment, her mossy green gaze searching mine. My heart thudded against my ribs, a visceral reminder of just how much she meant to me.

“Well,” she said softly, her fingertips tracing along my collarbone.

“Well what?”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and she shrugged. “I don’t know. That was just…” Her words trailed off.

“Amazing?”

She smiled, and my cock twitched, which was a damn miracle.

I slid up against the pillows and lifted her against me, standing and striding into the bathroom. When I’d impulsively texted her earlier, I’d had no clue if she’d agree to meet me for dinner. When she had, I’d raced over to meet her without having a chance to shower after work.

“Where are we going?” she asked, a giggle escaping.

“Shower,” I replied as I walked through the archway into the bathroom.

I’d never have considered myself one for luxury, but I loved this bathroom. When Owen and Ivy showed me the house design, I had initially scoffed at the bathroom plans, thinking they were too much. But Owen had assured me I’d love it, and I did. I reluctantly eased Ella down just outside the shower.

Disposing of my condom, I reached inside to turn the water on. Inside of a few seconds, steam was filling the bathroom, and I tugged Ella into the shower with me. She glanced up at the two showerheads directly in the ceiling sending a rainfall of water over us.

“Oh my. This is nice,” she murmured.

Reaching around her, I turned on a few more jets along the tiled walls. She looked over with a laugh. “I bet you love this after work.”

“Absolutely. Owen had to talk me into it because I thought it was a little ridiculous at first. Now I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

I couldn’t help but watch as she soaped up. I’d have thought myself long past the age where my control was an issue, but with Ella standing there with water and bubbles sluicing over her skin, it was fair to say control wasn’t my strength. I felt my cock swelling and had to turn away, snagging the shampoo and focusing on anything but her.

When I had control of my body again, I turned around to see her leaning back, rinsing her hair. I let myself just soak in the sight of her. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her back. She had a lithe, strong build. There was more lushness to her now with her hips and her breasts fuller. I hadn’t even noticed the scarring on her thigh earlier. A vivid memory flashed through my thoughts.

The dark, cold night I’d pulled her from the car, she’d been on her side. I remembered it so clearly, yet it wasn’t something I allowed myself to dwell on. While the accident itself was horrible, it was everything that happened afterwards that was so painful—the shock of Jake’s death and the fear that Ella might not make it through. They’d stabilized her the first night at the hospital, but the doctors kept warning of the possibility of infection.

Now, so many years later, only the scarring on her side and thigh would let anyone know something like that had happened. Moving on instinct, I stepped to her, sliding my hands down her sides onto her hips.

With a sputter, she opened her eyes, her lashes spiky from the water. Just like that, the space around us hummed. I wouldn’t deny my desire, but desire wasn’t what this moment was about.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. After a beat, she spoke. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind what?”

She slid her hands down, resting one just above the scarring on her side. “This.”

“Ella, I don’t give a damn. If you’re worried about how it looks, you’re just beautiful as you ever were. This just tells the story of everything you’ve been through.”

She stared at me, as if trying to read into something that wasn’t there.

“Do you mind?” I finally asked, confused if only because she didn’t seem self-conscious about it.

She shook her head. “No, but…” She paused, biting the corner of her lip. “Well, some people do and I don’t want it to be….”

Anger flashed through me. I wouldn’t have expected her to not be with anyone when we were apart. Hell, I might’ve missed her so much it was an ache in my heart I’d simply learned to live with, but I had my fair share of dates and attempted relationships. Yet, her reaction only made me wonder again how others must’ve reacted to the sight of her scars.

To me, her scars made her more beautiful. They didn’t matter one fucking bit.

She read my expression and shook her head again. “It’s just that they make some people uncomfortable. Don’t go getting angry with no one who’s here and no one who matters. I just needed to know if it mattered for you.”

“Never.”