"I missed you," Ivan said. It was a simple statement, but in Ivan’s deep, gravelly voice, it carried the weight of a confession.
Ivan’s shoulders dropped instantly, the rigid line of his posture softening. He leaned back, surrendering his weight to Olli’s hold. "I’m not tensing. I’m concentrating." ivan and olli passionate lovers
Ivan stood by the stove, stirring a pot of soup with a concentration usually reserved for surgery. He was a man built of sharp angles and pragmatic silence, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms tense with effort. He didn't hear Olli enter the kitchen, but he felt the shift in the air—the sudden, electric charge that always announced his lover’s presence. "I missed you," Ivan said
"Let it burn," Ivan said, the fire in his eyes matching the one in the stove. "I have everything I need right here." He leaned back, surrendering his weight to Olli’s hold