Chapter 7
Dragging himself from the extreme drowsiness clouding his mind, Brooks glanced around the room. He didn’t remember being in here. He reached out a hand to close around the bars of the railing extending around the comfortable bed. The resulting rattle brought Rogan to his side.
“Brooks. You look less foggy.” Rogan’s voice sounded pleased.
Flashes of his mate, bathing his itchy patches with cool liquid and cuddling next to Rogan’s chest as he rocked him, flooded his mind as Rogan slid the railing down from the bed. He struggled to sit up.
“You are not yet at full strength, Adventurer. Let me help you,” Rogan said as he scooped him out of the bed.
Brooks wrapped his arms around his mate’s neck and held on as Rogan walked to a large chair. When Rogan sat down, the chair glided underneath them. Propped up in Rogan’s arms, Brooks studied the room.
“What is this place?”
“It’s your playroom. You thrashed around when the hives got itchy. You were safer in your crib. Here, drink.”
Rogan placed a bottle at his lips, and automatically, Brooks sucked. A thick creamy mixture filled his mouth, and he hummed in delight as it soothed his dry mouth. It took several minutes for him to realize he was drinking from a bottle like an infant. Immediately, he pushed Rogan’s hand away and struggled to sit up.
“Whoa, Adventurer. You’re okay,” Rogan reassured him as he helped him sit up.
That small rebellion completely wiped out all his energy. Still, he forced himself to protest, “I’m not a baby.”
“Mate, that medicine knocked you for a loop. This bottle got nutrition inside you without a mess so you could recover to this point. Your hives are almost completely gone. Soon, you won’t need any more.”
“I can stop now,” Brooks argued.
“Not going to happen. We will follow the doctor’s instructions. Come. Stretch back out and drink. You need liquids to recover.”
Rogan gently helped him back into position and held the bottle to his lips. Brooks was too thirsty to refuse. He devoured it.
“Good job, Mate. We’ve avoided this discussion for too long.”
Brooks met his gaze, and a shiver ran down his spine. His mate’s eyes seemed to see into his soul.
“All my previous mates dreamed of a secret lifestyle. One that I am also wired to lead. I thought perhaps you were the exception, and that was fine. Each mate is a special individual.”
Rogan paused to brush Brooks’s hair from his forehead. “I found your stuffie, Brooks. Can you tell me what his name is?”
His heart raced. Rogan seemed to know—to see deep inside him. Brooks shook his head, trying to buy himself time to think. Maybe he could excuse keeping the stuffie by saying it was a childhood memento… He didn’t want to do that to Rogue. The plush dragon meant too much.
“It’s okay, Adventurer. There shouldn’t be secrets between mates. If you can’t tell me, there’s another way. Would you like to try that?”
Not sure what he suggested, Brooks shrugged.
“I understand. Close your eyes, Brooks.”
Rogan waited until he’d complied. Brooks heard him shift slightly then Rogan’s fingers pressed to his forehead. “Concentrate here for a minute. My touch is your anchor. When you’re ready, mentally turn your attention, putting the press of my hand directly behind you.”
When Brooks opened his eyes to meet Rogan’s gaze, his mate reassured him. “I know it sounds impossible, but we can do this together. You must keep your eyes closed for this adventure. Can you be brave?”
Brooks slammed his eyelids shut as Rogan tugged the bottle from his mouth. Instantly, he could concentrate more. Resolve filled him. Whatever happened, he trusted his mate. He focused on the warmth of Rogan’s hand and slowly turned to peer back into his mind. Overwhelmed by the sight that spanned in front of him, Brooks backed up to brace himself against Rogan’s touch.
“That’s it. Good job. Look around a bit. Can you see all the colors zipping past? I want you to search for a red line. It will shoot past several times before you can focus on it and pin the light in front of you.”
Rogan caught a glimpse to his left. Then another on his right. Determined, he mentally jumped on the next one and saw it stretch in front of him.
“That’s it, Brooks. You’re doing so well. Trace that line as far as necessary until you find a door.”
Zigging and zagging, Brooks slid his attention along the red line. It was slippery in several places, and he struggled to continue. Finally, a huge wooden door rose before him. Three locks spanned the front with the red line piercing the center.
“Yes. Brooks, you’re there. Write your name on the door with your finger. That is your door.”
Brooks saw his hand appear in front of him and he pressed a fingertip to the wooden surface. Solid and slightly weathered, the surface held a dot now where he’d tapped it. Slowly, he stretched out the letters. On impulse, he added Rogan’s name and drew a heart around it.
“So sweet, Brooks. I love that.” Rogan’s voice sounded emotional. Brooks almost opened his eyes to check on his mate but controlled that desire.
As if he’d followed Brooks’s thoughts, Rogan rubbed his forehead. “Stay steady, Adventurer. You’re almost there. The first lock is open. That happened when we consummated our union. I want you to open the second lock.”
Brooks shifted his hand away from the door and took hold of the lock. He hesitated, debating whether or not this was wise. Rogan said nothing, just held him close as he sent gentle support through their connection. Trusting his mate, Brooks powered the stubborn lock open.
Instantly, their bond intensified. Brooks opened his eyes as Rogan’s emotions and desire for Brooks flooded into him. “You love me.”
“I do, Brooks. I love every part of you, inside and out.”
Images of Rogan caring for him over the last few days flooded Brooks’s mind. He could also sense his mate’s enjoyment of tending him intimately. Brooks’s fantasies of submitting to someone had always seemed impossible. Could he have that type of relationship with Rogan?
“Rogue,” he blurted.
“Ah, so close to my name. I will thank your stuffie for guarding you before I could find you.”
“My mom always said I wouldn’t leave the store without the red dragon. It’s the only stuffie I ever wanted,” Brooks shared before whispering, “I can feel you so much more.”
And we can talk easily in any form. Try it.
You can hear me?
Loud and clear, Little boy.
You know I’m Little? I haven’t admitted that to anyone.
And I suspect you would have hidden that from me as well.
Brooks nodded. Concealing that part of him had been a priority. He had thought no one would understand. How did you know?
You called me Daddy. I would love it if you’d use that name for me.
Brooks forced himself to be brave. He didn’t want to hide anymore. He was safe with Rogan. Daddy, I love you, too.
Rogan pulled him into his arms, hugging him tight. Thank you for being brave, Brooks.
Pressing his lips to Rogan’s, Brooks kissed him with all the emotions tumbling around inside him and froze, as he could sense how Rogan enjoyed the kiss as well.
It’s okay, Brooks. Our connection is stronger.
Rogan ran a caressing hand down Brooks’s side to squeeze his bottom. Instantly, his cock hardened in response. It was as if that open lock magnified everything. What would sex be like now? He kissed Rogan and clung to his shoulders as the sensations overwhelmed him. How would it feel when Rogan slid into him?
Better than you can imagine.
Rogan lifted his head. “You are not recovered enough for those activities, Adventurer. One more day of medicine should erase the last of the hives and then we will find out. Finish your milk.”
When Rogan placed the milk back at his lips, Brooks shot him an unhappy stare and drank. The chair glided underneath him, soothing his frustration. By the time he finished the last of the liquid inside, Brooks struggled to keep his eyes open. Rogan lifted him and placed him gently in bed, covering him with a fluffy comforter.
When soft fabric brushed his cheek, Brooks reached out an arm to loop around his cherished stuffie, pulling it close. His Daddy rubbed his back until he drifted to sleep.