Page 18 of Knot Your Romeo

The casual cruelty of his words takes my breath away. This is what he thinks about both of us. We’re problems to be managed. We both have needs that need to be satisfied, but in different ways.

But Romeo thinks I exist purely for his sexual benefit.

“What makes you think I’d agree to something like that?” I ask quietly.

Romeo looks me in the eye as he strokes my neck with his thumb. “Because you’re already wet just from talking about it. Because your pupils are dilated and your pulse is racing and your scent is telling me exactly how much your Omega wants to submit to her Alpha.”

He’s not totally wrong, and that’s the most infuriating part. It’s not my scent that is betraying me, but my body as it responds to his dominance. The space between my thighs throbs with need, and I don’t want to think about how much slick is there.

“Physical response isn’t consent,” I manage.

“No,” he agrees. “But it’s honest in a way words aren’t. Your mouth says no, but your body is begging me to take what we both know belongs to me.”

“I don’t belong to you.”

Romeo’s laugh is low and dark. “Don’t you? Tell me, Omega—when you touch yourself at night, who do you think about? When you imagine being claimed and knotted and marked, whose face do you see?”

Beck.

The answer surprises even me. It sits heavy in my throat, unwanted but undeniable.

Romeo smiles because he thinks it’s him. “That’s what I thought,” he says softly, reading my silence incorrectly. “We’rematched, Jolie. Fighting it is only going to make us both miserable.”

“So I should just accept being your dirty secret?” My voice cracks as I say the words. “Let you use me whenever you can’t get what you need from your perfect girlfriend?”

The truth washes over me with crystal clarity. I fled one monster only to find another wearing a different face. Blake wanted to breed me and sell my children. Romeo wants to use me while keeping up appearances with his girlfriend. I hate being an Omega.

“Romeo. Is that you?” The voice is very close now, and a flashlight beam cuts through the trees.

Romeo gives me a warning look that promises this isn’t over. “You should accept reality.” His thumb strokes along my pulse point, and I know he can feel how hard my heart is racing. “Whatever this is between us is bigger than what either of us wants, but we can work with it, or we can let it destroy us. Those are our only options.”

“I need time to think,” I whisper.

Romeo’s hand slides away from my throat, and immediately I miss the contact. “Take all the time you need. But remember, the longer you wait, the harder this gets for both of us.” He steps back, putting physical distance between us, but his scent still surrounds me. “Sweet dreams, Omega. Try not to think about what you’re missing.”

The masculine voice calls out his name again.

When he turns and walks away to intercept whoever is searching for him, I lean against the tree, legs shaking.

The worst part isn’t his threat. It’s that despite everything, my traitorous body still wants him. Slick is running down my thighs, making me hate myself almost as much as I hate him. I slide down the trunk until I’m sitting on the ground and draw my knees up to my chest as his words echo in my mind.

Fighting it is only going to make us both miserable.

Is he right, and Professor Benson wrong? Is this biological pull strong enough that denying it will cause us both genuine suffering? Or is that just what he wants me to believe so I’ll agree to his convenient arrangement?

I think about Cerise, beautiful and confident and completely unaware that her boyfriend is planning to cheat on her with the housekeeper’s daughter.

She doesn’t deserve that betrayal, no matter how much Romeo justifies it, and no matter how horrible she is to me. I quickly get to my feet again, needing to get home. The safety of the cottage windows glow warmly in the distance.

But I can’t shake the feeling that safety is just an illusion, especially here behind these high walls.

Romeo has made his position clear—he wants me, and he’s not going to simply accept rejection and move on. But how long can I hold out against both his persuasion and my own traitorous biology before I give in to what we both know is inevitable? And when that moment comes, will I be strong enough to set terms of my own, or will I simply become another Omega crushed under the weight of an Alpha’s selfish desires?

The night air carries no answers, only the distant sound of the party still raging at the main house and the lingering scent of my supposed mate.

But tomorrow, I’ll be stronger.

Tomorrow, I’ll remember why I said no.

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