Page 122 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

She crushed me against her, her hand on the back of my neck, breathing my name in my ear over and over.

Abruptly, I pulled away from her and rolled over on the bed, lying next to her, gasping for breath, my eyes dry, but my body gripped with pain.

“I have… I can’t leave Johannes,” she said.

“Right,” I muttered.

“And Corentin. He and I—”

“Right,” I said, sitting up.

“Nikolai, don’t go.”

I looked back at her. “He’s horrible sometimes. But Johannes might be worse. And I think I’m the worst of all, for just lapping it up like an idiot dog.”

She fingered her mark again. “He’s my mate.”

I sighed, looking away.

“He’s not always horrible,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Let’s stop talking about him,” I decided.

She nodded.

I straightened up on the bed, running a hand over my head, thinking this through. “I’m pretty fucked up, omega, and I don’t know if you’re quite aware of how extensive that is.”

“I don’t think you’re fucked up.”

“Yeah, but like I’m saying, you don’t even know the extent of it.”

“You want to tell me?”

I tilted my head at her. “I presented young. Really young. It happened while I was being raped, which was a real mindfuck, and I’ve always… there’s always been this element of confusion about the entire thing, because, you know, when it happens, it’s against my will, but I’m always aroused.”

She licked her lips. “W-well, I think that’s normal.”

“What?”

“I mean, you know, I’m an omega. I get aroused very easily. I get aroused from all kinds of fucked up shit. I used to watch documentaries where victims would talk about sexual abuse, and I would get aroused, and I thought it meant something, but it doesn’t, it’s just natural. Just because you get turned on doesn’t mean you like it.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I mean, yeah, I know that.”

“With Dmitri…?”

“What?”

“Is Dmitri forcing himself on you?”

“No.” I dismissed this.

“Okay,” she said. “That’s good. You said that thing about masters and slaves—”

“Maybe he gets in my head,” I muttered. “Maybe it’s confusing.”

“Right?” she said, gesturing with both hands. “It is confusing.”

My nostrils flared.

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