Page 22 of A Winter Redemption
Ketho’s stomach turned at those words. Ketho knew the village. Everyone here was friendly and open to questions, especially about the village’s oread heritage. That was a great source of pride for many.
Did Jarne have trouble getting along with everyone here in Ores?
“You smell different too,” Jarne said.
“I what?” Ketho stopped walking.
“You smell different. I noticed the other night.” Jarne stopped and faced him.
“I smell different from what?” Ketho didn’t know if he should be offended. Then again, this was Jarne, and Jarne had a skill at offending even when he didn’t mean to.
“You smell different from humans or full humans, I suppose,” Jarne explained. “They have a much muskier scent. A colleague of mine is half-dryad, and I’ve noticed that she smells different from humans too. Like a mix of flowers and forests. But you smell different from her.”
This had to be one of the strangest conversations Jarne had ever had, but he was also strangely curious. “And how do I smell?”
“Like dry, cold earth being hit by rain. Like stone and something metallic. And you also smell like the forests around us.” Jarne’s gaze dropped to Ketho’s throat, brown eyes intense. “Of pine in particular, but there are nuances too. And I do not recognise all the scents.”
“That bothers you?” Ketho felt hot beneath Jarne’s gaze. Which was strange considering how clinically Jarne explained his scent.
“Yes. Although, I suppose it should not.” His gaze met Ketho’s. “You are of these mountains, and I do not know all the scents here.”
“And is it a good scent?” Ketho asked, feeling slightly out of breath.
“Incredible. Intoxicating,” Jarne said. Not flattery. Just an honest fact. “I could spend days inhaling you. I feel like each time, I would pick out a different nuance.”
“Do you want to smell me again?” Ketho asked.
Jarne’s nostrils flared. He nodded.
ChapterFifteen
Ketho reached for the collar of his shirt. He pulled the ties loose, revealing the skin of his throat to Jarne’s deep-brown eyes, which traced each movement.
This scenario felt so strange and bizarre. But for some reason, the idea of Jarne smelling him appealed to him. Aroused him. He didn’t know why. But he wanted it.
“Well? Don’t you want to come closer?” Ketho trailed a finger along his throat, deliberately tempting the man. “I thought you wanted to smell me?”
Jarne tugged the gloves from his hands and shoved them in his overcoat pocket. He stepped closer, not rushed. He lifted his hands and opened the collar of Ketho’s shirt wider, exposing more of Ketho’s throat and skin to the icy air. His fingers brushed Ketho’s throat lightly, trailing up and down across his sensitive skin.
Jarne looked like a man desperate with hunger. And Ketho wanted to be devoured. A shiver of need raced down Ketho’s spine.
Jarne’s warm hand slipped around the back of Ketho’s neck, holding it with a firm grip that caused the blood to rush to Ketho’s cock. The other hand wrapped around Ketho’s waist, slipping beneath his shirt. Jarne pressed his hand against Ketho’s lower back, bringing him a step closer to Jarne.
He seemed so much more confident this time. Like Jarne knew what he wanted. And he wanted to smell Ketho.
“Jarne,” Ketho whispered.
Jarne’s eyes flicked to his, holding his gaze. Neither spoke as the air sizzled and crackled between them.
Then Jarne leaned forward, face approaching his neck. Ketho held completely still. Jarne breathed out against his skin, hot breath contrasting with the brisk winter air. Still, Jarne didn’t inhale. Like he wanted to savour the moment, savour Ketho.
“Jarne.” Ketho felt desperate for this. And still, he didn’t understand why.
Jarne’s hand on his neck tightened, almost imperceptibly. He rubbed his nose against Ketho’s throat. Ketho tipped his head back, presenting more of his neck to Jarne.
Then, finally, Jarne inhaled. A deep, long breath. He held it for a moment. Not moving, face pressed to Ketho’s throat. Then he sighed, a sound almost like a moan.
“Is it as good as you remember?” Ketho whispered. His hands settled on Jarne’s waist.
