God, it was hard to block out the sound of the crowd. Even worse were the words trying to cut him into pieces and he twisted his head away when she placed it against her chest, swallowing hard against the dryness that had little to do with his temperature and everything to do with the vulnerabilities she was mercilessly throwing to the wolves. He had to keep fighting against it, had to keep going forward and resisting for the sake of his Dom, make him proud, make him happy, make sure he wouldn't leave for someone more whole or willing or capable.

He couldn't help the thready groan, a mixture of pain and pure reaction at her forceful tweaking. It certainly didn't feel right, but somewhere it felt good and at odds with even what the rest of his body was trying to tell him, and all he could do was try to clamp down on the feeling to keep it from leaking through. He wasn't broken, she was confusing him, dammit, by... by, what? Using the truth? Fuck. This wasn't right.