Jamil looked at him exasperatedly, smiling a little. “Stop eavesdropping on my thoughts.” If it were anyone else, he would have felt mortified and furious. But when he looked into Rohan’s eyes, he felt laid bare—and bizarrely fine with it. Although it had been a year since they’d last seen each other, it felt like nothing had changed, the intimacy between them as comforting as it was maddening. Closer, not enough, more.
“Your thoughts are very loud,” Rohan murmured, shrugging his shirt off. “I’ll have to teach you shielding sometime.”
“My shields are perfectly sufficient,” Jamil said, not even attempting to look away from Rohan’s muscular torso, from all that smooth, tanned brown skin and the black tattoos on his left arm, the hard abs, and the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the band of his underwear, which then melted into his pants. Strong fingers started working on Rohan’s fly.
Jamil averted his gaze, his mouth dry.
“You can borrow something to wear from me,” he said.
Rohan shrugged and shook his head, walking toward the bed clad only in a pair of black boxer-briefs. “Unless you mind?”
Jamil shook his head, too, looking anywhere but at him as Rohan slipped between the cool sheets. The lights were still on, but Jamil couldn’t bring himself to turn them off. In the dark, it would be so much easier to let go of inhibitions.
He didn’t trust himself.
“Omer, lights at ten percent,” Jamil said.
The lights dimmed to a soft, yellow glow.
Jamil closed his eyes, his heart beating somewhere in his throat—and in his cock.
All he could hear was Rohan’s breathing. It wasn’t very steady.
Neither was his.
“This is ridiculous,” Rohan said at last, and then rolled on top of him.
It was probably embarrassing how quickly Jamil wrapped his arms and legs around him, pure bliss spreading through his body, bare chest against bare chest, nothing between them but skin. Someone moaned, or maybe both of them did, as they squirmed and shifted until they were so tightly intertwined there wasn’t a hair’s breadth between them.
“Fucking hell,” Rohan said, panting against Jamil’s cheek, their stomachs pressed tightly. It felt unbelievably good and frustratingly not enough.
You feel so good on me.
He felt Rohan shudder above him, grinding his erection against his. “What the fuck is this,” he gritted out, nuzzling against Jamil’s neck before sucking on his telepathic point.
Jamil whined, raking his fingers through Rohan’s short hair, needing him closer, closer, closer.
It still wasn’t enough.
“Want you,” Jamil said breathlessly, tightening his thighs around Rohan’s hips. “Want you inside me.”
Rohan went still on top of him and then lifted his head.
Jamil went still, too, realizing what he’d just said.
He forced his eyes open.
Their gazes met, glassy with bone-deep need. He could feel Rohan’s hesitation, the storm of emotions inside him, each tugging him in a different direction. It wasn’t just rational reasons that were stopping him. He could feel that Rohan felt strange about having sex with a man, but at the same time the thought of being inside Jamil very much appealed to something in him—the same something that wanted Jamil closer, tighter, more.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Rohan said roughly, his expression pinched, his protectiveness pulsing through their bond. “Jamil, you know I’ll have to leave.”
This can’t mean anything.
Jamil swallowed.
“I know.” He pulled Rohan’s head down so their foreheads touched. He smelled so good, his subtle, masculine scent making Jamil’s head spin. A breath in. Breath out. “I’m not some green, innocent boy with my head in the clouds. I’m a grown man. I’m not fragile. It will be just a—just a fuck.”
Rohan laughed, their noses rubbing. “I think it’s the first time I’ve heard you say such a vulgar word, Highness.”
“Stop making fun of me,” Jamil said, rubbing their cheeks together and shivering at the feel of Rohan’s stubble against his smooth skin. “This feels good, too. I know you aren’t attracted to men. We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to.”
Rohan laughed again, a little bitterly. “Sweetheart, you’re delusional if you think I don’t want to. I haven’t had sex in a year.”
Jamil blinked. “What? Why?”
Sighing, Rohan kissed the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know. It just felt off. I suspect our bond is the reason.” He kissed the other corner of Jamil’s trembling lips. “We have ways to block off or break bonds on Tai’Lehr, but I couldn’t exactly go to mind healers with my problem without telling them about you.”
“So you’re basically just too sexually frustrated to say no,” Jamil said. He should probably be more bothered about the fact that Rohan would just basically use him to relieve tension, but he didn’t mind being used by Rohan at all. He wasn’t sure what it said about him. It was probably pretty pathetic, but at the moment, he didn’t care. Jamil wanted him.