Ianto shivers at the cold, skin tingling under Jack's fingertips. He's so sensative that he can feel every little brush of his fingers, and begins to relax under his touch. It feels like he's melting into the bed and he's perfectly content to just lay here and enjoy the sensation.
"Envious that you don't bruise?" He supposes he can see it. They both know how much he's learned to appreciate them lately between this and the bite marks Jack and Spike are always leaving.