“I knew you’d bring that scent back to me. You’re so good. So, so good.” More stroking. Ian shivered. “You planned this,” Cole croaked. “Guilty as charged,” Ian purred. His eyelids fluttered as his nostrils flared, and he sucked down another deep, openmouthed breath. “Do you get it now? I can never fill enough graves, because filling graves with broken men makes me feel alive. I live for this moment, when I can smell their death. Smelling it on you is—” He shuddered, bit his lip. “Are you upset? Are you scared? Contemplating your own mortality? Was that why your voice quavered? Was that why
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