Page 20 of Rogue Alpha Prince

Well, that’s pointless because you are him, but please, go on. My unhinged wolf part purrs in my mind.

I have this sudden need to do something on my own accord, to reclaim the reins of my life, and he is so handsome and… mine. We can say he is mine, right?

I come to him and bend over the rim of the bathtub to catch his throat with my hand. He lets me, not even opening his eyes. Of course, he does. He’s not afraid of me at all, and that thought alone makes me afraid of him more than anything else could.

Still, I lean in and kiss his full lips just because I can. With one swift motion, he grabs me and pulls me inside the tub with him, taking charge of the kiss and the whole situation, warm water splashing around the room for the second time since I’ve been here. His hands roam my body with need, and I melt under his firm touch.

My clothes are soaked, and my tits show through. I don’t care. The way he did that, still kissing me with his tongue, was so hot I readjust my position so I can straddle his hips. We are so close there’s no space between us. I’m still in his boxer briefs, and they are not that easy to move aside, so I feel safe to do only what I want to. And I want to kiss my mate.

I kiss him back with matching fervor, moving my hand back to his neck and then up, until I run my fingers through his wet hair. I move my other hand there too, feeling his head—sides and back shaved short, top left long.

“Mmm,” I purr into his mouth, completely content and so unsatisfied at the same time.

I try to pull away to look at his gorgeous face, but he bites my lower lip. He lets go reluctantly and then closes his eyes, not honoring me with a look.

I have my hands on the sides of his neck, with thumbs on his prickly jaw. I try to guess what he’s thinking, but it’s in vain. He is a master of emotionless looks.

He feels mine. But he’s not.

I sigh and turn my head away, painfully aware that I can’t let my guard down even in front of my true mate. Especially in front of my true mate.

“Hey,” He catches my chin in a weirdly gentle way that I didn’t expect from him.

“Yes?”I ask with a quiet, hoarse voice.

For a moment, I wonder if he has noticed my mood went sour.

“Bring me the towel,” he uses an alpha command that doesn’t work but still mentally hurts. “What? Did you count on something else from me? Sex?”

I shake my head ‘No’ and start to stand up. Our hot moment passed, and he is just an asshole again.

I can feel his gaze on me when I get towels for us, and then, begrudgingly, I take off his soaked clothes clinging to my now cold body.

I have to get naked in front of him whether I want to or not; there’s no bathroom, no divide I could use, and definitely no privacy for me anymore. It makes me so angry I want to cry.

But I don’t. No. I suck it up and get my jeans. What does this prick do?

He tells me no.

“Wear a dress,” he commands, like his better access to my body was more important than my comfort throughout the day.

I plan to banter with him for the rest of the day in the most subtle way I can. But first, wear a dress, because as petty as I am, I don’t want to end up with his sword pierced through my body.

“You are such a brat. We’ll have to work on your attitude,” Rogue Prince says straight into my ear while opening the massive doors to the dining hall. He endured my attitude for the whole day as we went on a calm stroll through his extra-quiet-after-a-full-night-of-wedding-celebrations town, and all its parks and nearby forests while stuffing ourselves with a dragon-weight of pastries he got for us.

I immediately notice how everyone inside is a true mix of cultures and ethnicities. You could literally see how they are clustered from all the packs around the world. It dawns on me, though, that they all look the same somehow. It’s the clothes. They are all either black or so distressed and post-apocalypticlooking with a weird hint of medieval spin on it… I look around the dining hall and realize with dread that all the women here wear long dresses, even the servants. That means that when he stopped me from wearing jeans, he just didn’t want me to stand out for my own good. And I risked with so much bantering because of it. Fuck.

I can feel his approaching revenge. I swallow hard and enter after him. He leads me to the long table lavishly stocked with great-smelling food.

But my stomach is in knots, and I’m not sure if I will be able to eat anything now.

Everyone nods their heads respectfully at us. Or him. I’m just at his side, after all. It feels weird.

There is no sight of the crew from this morning.

We arrive at the top of the table where the biggest chair stands, looking almost like a throne. For a moment, I wonder if it’s for the Rogue King, but when the Rogue Prince pulls out the chair on the right of it for me, it becomes clear that the throne is for him, the prince.

He smiles at me when I sit down and pushes me closer to the table. He is nice to me, too nice, and I get chills.

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