“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” Rohan said, laying a hand on Jamil’s cheek. He was still smiling, but his eyes were dead serious.
I’ll never let you get hurt. It wasn’t a conscious thought; it was a feeling.
It made warmth spread through Jamil’s chest before curling in his belly. He and Mehmer had had a wonderful relationship, but Mehmer had never been particularly protective of him. Jamil had always thought that it was a good thing—it meant that Mehmer had full confidence in Jamil’s competence—but now, to his mild embarrassment and bewilderment, Jamil found that being the object of such intense protectiveness didn’t feel bad at all. Quite the opposite.
Jamil had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling stupidly at Rohan. Ugh. He was a grown man. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
Averting his gaze, he cleared his throat. “Let’s get it over with.”
“Look me in the eye, love.”
Jamil did as he was told.
“It might feel bizarre,” Rohan warned, holding his gaze and laying his hand on Jamil’s telepathic point. “I’m going to use our bond to shield you from the worst of it, but it will likely feel very strange at first. Don’t be nervous. If you start feeling overwhelmed, just focus on our bond, okay?”
Jamil nodded, shivering when he felt Rohan slide into him, deeper and deeper, until they both were breathless with the pleasure of it. “Feels so good.”
Rohan sighed, a sense of worry clouding the merge for a moment. “I know. I’m afraid we have a textbook case of merge addiction, love. It’s probably why our bond didn’t break.”
Jamil just hummed in response, wrapping his arm around Rohan tightly as Rohan slid deeper. He barely paid attention to what Rohan was doing, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure of having him fully inside him for the first time in a year. He missed this, having Rohan inside him on such an intimate level. It felt as good as having Rohan’s cock in his mouth.
“Stop that,” Rohan told him in the merge.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re distracting me. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to focus?”
“I’m not doing anything. I just love having you in me.”
Rohan laughed. “Are you doing it on purpose?”
Jamil smiled widely. “Maybe.”
Rohan’s mental presence tightened around him for a moment, an equivalent of a short hug, before heading toward Jamil’s core.
The bond to Mehmer was still there, wrapped around his core. But for the first time, Jamil could see what Rohan meant when he called his bond to Mehmer ugly. There was something wrong about it, unnatural, and Jamil didn’t mean the fact that it was torn and thin, fraying at the edges. It was like a spider web woven around his core, blocking off entire neural pathways.
“I’m letting you see through my senses. Yours are too weak while this thing is suppressing them. I’m going to remove it now. Focus on our bond. It will make it easier.”
Jamil shifted his mental attention to the other bond, the one that shone in his mind gold and pure. It, too, was interwoven around his telepathic core, but in a way that felt natural and seamless. It emanated warmth and safety. He let himself bask in it.
He barely noticed when the bond to Mehmer disappeared. Or rather, he noticed it only because the gentle pleasure he was feeling from his bond to Rohan suddenly increased tenfold.
Jamil gasped, his head spinning. He was trembling all over, his every sense suddenly magnified. It was too much. “Rohan—”
“Shh, I’m here,” Rohan said, projecting at him the feelings of calm and serenity. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Jamil clung to him, both mentality and physically, needing him like he needed the air.
“It’ll get better,” Rohan said quietly, running gentle fingers through his hair. “Tell me what you need, love. I’ll do anything for you.”
Jamil hid his besotted smile in the hollow of Rohan’s throat, breathing in his scent like an addicted person would inhale their favorite drug. His heightened senses seemed unable to adjust to the sensory overload, his skin on fire wherever they touched. But he could stay like this forever: in this man’s arms, their bodies and minds entwined so intimately it was impossible to tell where he ended and Rohan began. Jamil could feel Rohan’s protectiveness toward him, his fierce, obsessive determination to keep him safe and happy, and he soaked it up. He’d never felt so safe, cherished, and happy in his life.
But then he felt a stab of dread, deep and gut-wrenching. Happiness didn’t last. Not for him. This was borrowed time. Rohan was going to leave soon. They could never be anything, for many different reasons.
Rohan would leave, and Jamil… he would be alone again.
Not alone, he corrected himself, trying to climb out of the well of despair. He had a beautiful baby girl. Rohan’s daughter.