Page 41 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

“I certainly can be,” he said, getting up from his chair and offering me his hand.

I put my hand in his.

He escorted me across the grounds, all the way across them, to an area where there was a target, and Dmitri was throwing knives at it.

He stopped when he seemed to catch my scent, though. He went stiff and turned around, his whole body on high alert.

Nikolai made me look at him and ebbed everything out again, which must have made my scent a bit less.

When we finally closed the distance between us and Dmitri, Dmitri only looked mildly murderous.

“What is this?” he said to Nikolai.

“You could just order her not to perfume,” said Nikolai. “I can attest to how effective it is when you order anyone around. People just obey you, Dmitri, even other alphas. She’s your omega. Give her an order.”

Ooh, why did I want Dmitri to give me an order? Why did that sound so amazing?

Dmitri scratched the side of his neck, looking sheepish. “Seems like such a dick thing to do.”

Nikolai cleared his throat.

“Right,” muttered Dmitri. “Guess I’m being a dick?”

Nikolai nudged me at Dmitri.

Dmitri let out a breath, but he held my gaze.

I felt myself falling into it, and it wasn’t like with Nikolai, it was far more intense. My whole body felt floaty, sensitive, strange.

“Omega,” said Dmitri in a very husky voice, “do not perfume.”

My body surged at this order, surged in a way in which I felt myself nearly crest, like the edge of an orgasm, and I let out a breathy little sigh, but I didn’t perfume.

He went cross-eyed anyway. But he didn’t move away. He staggered closer to me, and we collided again.

I went into his chest, and both of my hands splayed out on his shirt, and he grabbed my ass with both hands. My body crested again, nearly clenched. I relaxed into him.

He crushed me in close, letting out a throaty, male noise.

I looked up at him, smiling, flushed. This felt good. This felt right.

“Hey,” he rasped.

“Hey,” I breathed.

He bent down and captured my lips with his—gentle, perfect, just a brush of our lips, like the wisp of the Sugar Plum Fairy’s wings.

I sighed, pressing up against him.

His arms tightened around me. “Here’s the thing, omega,” he breathed. “I don’t want to wait.”

“No,” I said.

“So, I don’t think I can see you,” he said. “Until after the wedding.”

“Oh,” I said, disappointed. “That’s… that’s a long time.”

“I know,” he said. “And… and I know that Johannes… but I’m so jealous of him I can’t see straight, and you belong to me.”

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