Jamil lifted his head. His eyes were stinging, but he’d never smiled wider. “Yes.”
Laughing in relief and elation, Rohan hugged him tightly and kissed him.
Need slammed into them as their lips and minds finally merged. Jamil made a whimpering sound, hungry, so very hungry that he couldn’t control himself, sucking him in greedily. Rohan groaned, kissing him deeper but trying to gentle their mental connection—he knew it was dangerous to go too deep after so long apart: they would lose themselves in the merge completely. But Jamil resisted, pulling him deeper and deeper inside him, his hunger bottomless.
“I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere,” Rohan thought at him, kissing Jamil and sinking deeper inside him. It felt so good that they could barely think, their mutual need and pleasure making them lose all their inhibitions. Jamil’s hands were fumbling between them, trying to unzip Rohan’s pants—
“What in the world—Jamil!”
They froze.
Chapter 37
They sprang apart, breathing hard.
The sudden end of the merge was disorienting so it took Rohan a moment to focus his gaze on Queen Janesh’s shocked face. Behind her, he could see the Queen-Consort, who had her hand pressed to her mouth. Rohan returned his gaze to the Queen, whose expression was quickly morphing from shock to fury.
Fucking hell.
Glancing down to make sure Jamil hadn’t actually managed to unzip his pants, Rohan grimaced at the obscene bulge straining his fly and tried to will his arousal away.
“Please tell me there is a very reasonable explanation for this,” the Queen gritted out, glaring at Jamil. “That my eyes played tricks on me and my son wasn’t committing adultery—and in a public place! Is this why you want a divorce? When your mother told me, I couldn’t believe her, but now…”
Jamil swallowed, his normally pale face bright red.
Rohan suppressed the urge to push Jamil behind his back. He didn’t, knowing that Jamil wouldn’t appreciate it, but he did step closer to Jamil, offering him his silent support and sending waves of comfort and reassurance through their bond. He felt Jamil relax slightly.
“Your Majesty,” Rohan said, drawing the Queen’s ire towards him. He met the Queen’s gaze and said, “I don’t consider it adultery. Jamil is my bondmate.”
The Queen-Consort made a choking sound.
The Queen stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
Without looking away from her, Rohan found Jamil’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “We love each other. We are bonded.”
Jamil’s parents seemed absolutely speechless.
At last, the Queen said, “Jamil is married.” She glared at Jamil. “Have you lost your mind? I’m still waiting for an answer, Jamil. And stop holding that man’s hand! Have you no shame?”
Jamil’s fingers only squeezed Rohan’s tighter.
“I thought I was a widower for a year and a half, Mother,” he said. Rohan could feel how much the situation stressed him out—Jamil wasn’t used to disappointing his mother—but he didn’t sense any regret or hesitation. Jamil had made a choice and he wasn’t going to backtrack now. “I met Lord Tai’Lehr months ago when I thought I wasn’t a married man.”
“But now you know better,” the Queen said, frowning. “You are married, Jamil. You have a daughter with your husband.”
Jamil looked down. “You know she isn’t Mehmer’s.”
The Queen’s lips thinned. “As far as everyone is concerned, she is. Your husband was kind enough to accept her, and you thank him with this? I’ve never been so ashamed to be your mother. You’re the Crown Prince. Behave like one.”
Jamil seemed to become smaller with the Queen’s every word.
Rohan snapped. “Enough.”
The Queen shifted her gaze to him, her green eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’re forgetting yourself, Tai’Lehr. I will speak to you later, after I speak to my son.”
“No.” Letting go of Jamil’s hand, Rohan stepped forward, between Jamil and his mother. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I will not allow you to put all the blame on Jamil. He doesn’t deserve it.”
Two spots of color appeared on the Queen’s cheekbones. “How dare you?”
“No offense, Your Majesty, but Jamil is a grown man. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you. His life is his own.” He sighed when the Queen opened her mouth to argue. “Look, do you really want your son to be miserable? Because he’ll be miserable with Mehmer. He’ll be miserable without me.”
The Queen scoffed. “Your arrogance knows no bounds—”
“It’s not arrogance,” Jamil said, taking Rohan’s hand again and stepping forward so that they were shoulder to shoulder. Although he was looking at his mother steadily, Rohan could feel Jamil’s mental presence all but cling to him through their bond. He wrapped his own tightly around Jamil’s, enveloping him in comfort, warmth, and love. Jamil’s eyes became glazed for a moment before focusing on the Queen again. “Rohan isn’t being arrogant. It’s the truth.” He looked down before meeting the Queen’s gaze, his expression open and achingly vulnerable. “I love him, Mother.”