“You are Shane fucking Hollander,” Ilya growled. “If you ever forget that, I will drag you back in here and fuck you until you remember.” “We—we’ll share a trophy room someday,” Shane stammered. Ilya smiled. “Yes. A fucking empire.” Shane tilted his head back against Ilya’s shoulder. “A dynasty,” he breathed. “Oh, fuck, Ilya. I love you.”
