Page 83 of Promised to the Alpha Prince

I rolled my eyes. “You do so. Just think about it. Think about me on my hands and knees with Dmitri behind me, rubbing the head of his cock up and down through my slick and then sinking all the way into me, think of watching my expression when he forces his knot all the way in, think of watching the way I—”

“Okay, okay,” he muttered. He rolled us over, my body under his, and started to thrust.

I giggled, throwing my hands up over my head, triumphant. “See?”

“Yeah, it’d be hot to watch you get fucked by another man,” he said, working himself into me.

“By three other men,” I said.

He grunted, picking up speed, fucking me faster and harder. “Yeah. That’d be hot. But what would it do to us, my love? How would it change us?”

Oh, his knot was hitting the back of my clit now. Knots were fantastic. They made sex so much nicer. “Change us?”

“Yeah,” he gasped, picking up my legs and pushing them together, ankles over his shoulder. “There would be consequences.”

I moaned because he was deeper now, and with my legs pushed together, I was getting even more sweet pressure on my clit. “What do you mean, consequences?”

“I mean, jealousy and feelings of inadequacy, and how would I ever feel like I mattered to you if I’m just one of your harem? You’re all I want, you know that? So, how do I reconcile the fact that all I want is you, and yet, I’m not enough for you? That doesn’t work, my love, not longterm. That will eat at me.” The more he talked, the harder he fucked me.

I was gasping, unable to think or breathe by the time he finished speaking. I couldn’t respond.

He went at me, harder, faster, almost as if he was angry with me.

I shut my eyes, breathing his name like a chant. “Corentin, Corentin, my Corentin.”

He fucked me until I came, hard, like stars bursting in my head, and then he came and then his knot deflated, and he slithered out of me, in a mess of my slick and his come, and we lay there, both on our backs, staring up the ceiling of my room.

“Come away with me,” he said. “Just you and me.”

“I wish I could,” I said.

“What if I leave, then?” he said.

“Don’t,” I said. “Please don’t.”

“So, you want me to suffer for you? That’s what you’re saying?”

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” he said, sitting up and looking down at me. “Yes, it is.”

“Corentin—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “None of this has been easy, my love. You’ve already destroyed my entire life. I’m happy to let you set the rest of it on fire.” He bent down and planted a kiss on my clit. “I love you, Aurelie. Anything for you.”

16

johannes

SHE WAS A radiant bride.

Her dress was beautiful, and when she floated down the aisle in the St. Peters Cathedral on the arm of her father, she looked like the most beautiful woman in the history of the entire world. I might have been biased, I supposed, but I didn’t think so.

The dress left her shoulders bare, but she had puffy white-lace sleeves that began at her upper arms and fell in diaphanous waves around her arms. The bodice cut low to show off half of Dmitri’s bite mark, and it cinched around her tiny, tiny waist. Then the skirt of the dress was voluminous layers and layers of lace, with a long and intricate train. She wore a circle of pink flowers around her head and her gauzy, barely-there veil flowed out behind her.

She had eyes for no one but Dmitri, and he didn’t look anywhere except at her.

Dmitri looked good, too.

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