Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
It took an embarrassingly short time for him to come.
When he did, Jamil slid down to the floor and hugged his knees to his chest, feeling beyond pathetic.
Pathetic. Loose. Unfaithful.
The worst part was the knowledge that if Rohan entered the room at this moment, Jamil would spread his legs for him immediately, his conscience be damned. Or perhaps it wasn’t that part that scared him the most.
He was scared that it wouldn’t feel wrong.
Chapter 29
“What the fuck was that?”
Rohan tore his gaze away from the zywern enclosure that was visible from the window of his room. “What?”
Warrehn gave him a hard look, and, after glancing toward the living room where Sirri and Derrel were talking, he shut the door and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “The prince.”
Rohan loosened his cravat. “What about him?”
Warrehn gave him a flat look. “Cut the crap. You stared at him like you wanted to put your mouth all over him. And your shields started leaking emotions the moment you saw him in the throne room. At first I couldn’t understand who was causing it, but it didn’t take me long to figure it out, with the way you looked at him.”
Rohan’s jaw worked. So it seemed even wearing a bond inhibitor hadn’t helped him to keep himself together. He had hoped that being unable to feel the mental attraction to Jamil would stop him from being so obvious. Truth be told, he had hoped that the bond inhibitor would make him not feel a thing for Jamil—after all, their entire relationship had started because they had been unable to resist their mental attraction to each other. But the inhibitor didn’t change a thing as far as his emotions were concerned; it just made him feel more frustrated because of his inability to feel Jamil’s mind on a more intimate level than a very superficial one.
“Stay out of it, Warrehn,” Rohan said, his voice more clipped than he would have liked. “That’s none of your business.”
Warrehn frowned. “Since when is that prince your business? That’s what I don’t get.” His lips twisted into a rare smile. “I mean, I get the appeal: he has a gorgeous face and equally nice ass, nice enough to make even a hetero like you stare, but it wasn’t just lust that I sensed.”
Fighting back the urge to snap at Warrehn not to talk about Jamil in that way, Rohan averted his gaze. He considered lying, but then he thought better of it. He did want to talk to someone. If he didn’t talk to someone, he might fucking explode. He needed Warrehn to talk some sense into him, before he did something crazy.
The fact that he wanted Warrehn to talk some sense into him probably said a lot about how on edge he was.
Rohan sighed. “We were involved for months while I was on Calluvia.”
“Really?” Warrehn said, his heavy brows drawing close. “People call him Ice Prince. He seems very… proper and cold.”
“It isn’t true,” Rohan said, smiling involuntarily at the memory of the times he’d managed to make Jamil behave very improperly. He thought about Jamil’s wide, happy smile and infectious laugh as Rohan kissed his tummy after kissing Tmynne’s. No, Jamil wasn’t cold at all. He was warm, so very warm that Rohan wanted to bury himself in him and just enjoy the delicious warmth surrounding him.
“Fucking hell. You’re in love with him.”
Rohan tensed, but the words of denial got stuck in his throat.
He looked at his friend and didn’t say anything. Couldn’t.
Warrehn grimaced, shaking his head. “Dammit, Rohan. He’s married. I guess you didn’t know that his husband was still alive when you fucked him, but now you do. Forget him. They have a daughter together.”
“She’s mine,” Rohan snapped. He turned away, gripping the windowsill. And Jamil’s mine, too.
Except he wasn’t. In fact, Jamil’s husband lived under this very roof. He might be kissing Jamil at this very moment, and Rohan couldn’t do a thing about it.
“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop before you make everyone in the palace realize that you aren’t a low-level telepath.”
Taking a deep breath, Rohan closed his eyes and reinforced his mental shields, trying to rein in his emotions. Warrehn was right. His control, or lack thereof, was unacceptable. For a high-level telepath, control was everything. He could actually end up hurting someone. He could ruin everything they’d been preparing for for years just because he coveted another man’s husband.
Another man’s husband.
The thought made him sick.
“I was going to come back for them, you know,” Rohan admitted, looking at the zywern enclosure. He laughed, bitterly. “I thought my status as a ‘rebel’ was the biggest obstacle we faced. But apparently Idhron didn’t even have the decency to kill that motherfucker—”
“You don’t mean it,” Warrehn said.
Rohan laughed. “The messed up part is, I absolutely mean it. I wish Mehmer was actually dead.”