Forbidden Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva)

by Miranda Martin

  "I can imagine," I say when she takes a breath.

  She glances over at Drevakin. Both he and Elorshin are staring at us with bemused expressions.

  "Sorry, Drevakin! It's good to see you too! Please tell me you are staying for a while," she asks, her hand gripping my arm tightly.

  Drevakin chuckles.

  "It seems as if we are," he says, glancing over at Elorshin. "But before you are too excited, perhaps you should speak with Elorshin about the circumstances."

  Margot waves that away.

  "I will ask Clara." She switches over to English. "Come on, I'll show you the guest bedroom and you can tell me what's going on. Oh man—are those jeans! Where did you get them from? An antique store?"

  I glance down at the inexpensive jeans.

  "No, I think I got them from some shop at the mall."

  She frowns. "The... mall?"

  "Yeah," I say with a chuckle. "Don't tell me you haven't been to a mall before."

  "No, I haven't." She gives me an odd look. Then she looks at my jeans and t-shirt again. "Is this how you usually dress?" she asks.

  That's a weird question. "Yeah, I guess. When I'm not in uniform."

  Her face clears. "Coveralls?"

  "No," I reply slowly. "My police uniform. I am, or was anyway, a police officer. Back on Earth."

  "In the United States?" she asks, her face confused.

  "Yes. As were you? Right?"

  Something is off here. I frown as the tag line for Celestial Mates pops in my mind. Bringing Love Across Time and Space. Time and space. The same realization crosses Margot's face.

  "Time and space," I say out loud, unable to wrap my mind around it.

  "What year are you from?" Margot asks in a hushed voice.

  "2027," I intone. "I'm guessing that's not when you're from."

  "Not even close," Margot confirms. She blinks. "Well, shit! This is so exciting! Oh man, I have to ask you everything! What does cut grass smell like? What was the ocean like? And the flowers! How were the flowers?"

  I let Margot pulled me out of the room, glancing over my shoulder at Drevakin. He smiles in response.

  "I gotta say Margot," I say as I follow her down the hall. "Future Earth isn't sounding like a great place."

  She glances over her shoulder at me. "Why do you think I'm here now?" she points out. "Though I still think it's hilarious that I ended up underground again."

  "Underground?"

  "We have a lot to talk about," she says.

  "Yeah," I say, dazed. "It sounds like we do."

  I'm gonna strap in my seat belt now. I'm sure she'll blow my mind, again.

  Well, what's left of it to blow, anyway.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Drevakin

  "Keep your guard up."

  "I’m trying," Clara grits through her teeth as she tries to hold off my sword. "It's not like you're slow."

  "And this is what you do not want to be," I retort, pulling back. "You will always be the smaller, and therefore, the weaker opponent. Your strength lies in your speed and your agility. Dodge the blows, don't block them. Use your footwork."

  She pants as she wipes her brow, strands of hair have left her braid and are sticking to the sides of her face.

  "I'm trying," she repeats with a huff.

  I soften. She is trying.

  "You are. And you are improving at a rapid pace." I sigh. "I know I'm being hard on you, but I don't know how much longer we can stay here or when you may have to defend yourself. The staff is a fine weapon, but what if you get disarmed? What if you don't have the staff nearby? If you have to pick up a sword? Knowing how someone fights with a sword will only help you defend yourself against them."

  She nods, then moves to the side of the practice room and picks up her cup of water, taking a long drink. I try not to stare as her throat moves with her long swallows, tracking a trickle of sweat sliding down her neck to disappear under her shirt.

  Unsuccessfully.

  I've been trying not to stare the entire time we have been hiding here. It has been difficult, especially considering we spend the majority of our day together. I've been finding it more and more challenging as time passes.

  I teach her more about the language, our culture, our food, and she tells me about Earth. Finding more facets of her I like and enjoy. I care about her even more. I can listen to her for hours as she tells me of her home planet. It is fascinating how different the Earth where she came from is from the Earth that Margot came from.

  Hearing the two descriptions, I would never have thought they were the same place. The Earth of Margot's time has much more in common with how we live on Alva. Underground, without natural light. Though the wonders of technology both speak of are something I can only imagine. Also the out-of-control population during Margot's time is a far cry from where we stand.

  Clara's Earth sounds pleasant. Better than Alva, above ground, with no monsters lurking in the dark. It testifies to the hurt she experienced that she would even consider leaving and going so far away from everything she knows. She doesn't talk about what it was and I haven't pushed the issue.

  For all the time we spend together trapped in the Do’ana House Mansion, that is one area she has not spoken about, that she has walled off. Sometimes, she will begin a story and then cut off, a sadness coming over her. I want to know what caused such a deep wound. I want to take her pain and somehow make it better.

  But I don't have the right to ask. She is not my Pari. Though I know, deep inside, that she may well be. I've been careful to not take that final step that would reveal the truth. I don't consummate our relationship because that would tie us together irrevocably.

  Even if she is my Pari, what then? What kind of life can I offer her? I am the Prince of a Minor House, one who could not keep his people safe from the whims of a Major House.

  And now...

  Now I am in hiding, presumed dead, staying in another Prince's House while attempting to plan a future. That is not the life I want for Clara. How could I take that final step, make that ultimate commitment when I believe she would have a better life if she went back home to Earth?

  Our bond would be permanent. Irrevocable.

  If she is my Pari, the Paritella would form, creating that telepathic and empathic bond that is so beautiful and such a cornerstone of our society. The dream each of us, male and female, has for ourselves, for our families.

  But even if it doesn't form, the first act of consummation is my only chance at the bond. And while the she could leave and go back home, I would tied to her, forever.

  However, I am so drawn to her that despite all of these thoughts, it has been difficult to keep my hands to myself. I know she wonders, I catch her looking at me. There is not much else to keep my mind off of what I want, my cock hard with want at the most inopportune times.

  Being forced to stay inside and out of sight limits our activities.

  So, I train her in using weapons, considering it a good use of the time we have and needing something to occupy my mind. Since she is so strong and not a stranger to fighting, she took to the training well. She has progressed much further than most people would have this fast.

  So much so, that I forget how new she is to the sword and push her too hard. As she puts the cup back down and walks over again, ready to practice more even though she's exhausted, I try to find a way to end off without sounding like I want her to rest. Another thing I have found out about Clara is that she is very stubborn. And she does not want to appear weak. We practice for longer in the mornings and if I end our session now because she is tired, she will make it a point to keep going.

  "Clara! Drevakin!" Margot calls out, walking down the hall toward us.

  She ducks her head inside, her adorable baby on her hip. As always, my eyes go to Elorshin's daughter first. She is a beacon of light, a symbol of hope for everyone. A new beginning for all of us.

  The baby's dark curls form a halo around her head, perfectly framing h
er beautiful face. She has lighter blue skin than Elorshin's, combining his tone and Margot's, to create a unique shade. Her ears are more rounded than ours are, also a mix of her mother and father. But her eyes are all Elorshin's—large and a crystal clear green.

  Today, Margot has dressed her in a warm brown dress with matching leggings and tiny stockings to keep her little feet warm. She laughs as she sees Clara, who has fast become one of her most favorite people. And the feeling is mutual. As soon as she raises her plump hands, Clara runs over with a smile spreading across her face. She brings the baby’s small weight up to her chest and snuggles close.

  Seeing Clara with the baby, I know she would be a wonderful mother. And then I cannot help wishing things were different. She would love our babies so much. Just as I would. I look over to find Margot staring back at me, a knowing look on her face. I look away again, embarrassed at being caught yearning for something I should not.

  Thankfully, she says nothing about it.

  "Come. I have food ready. You both need to relax a little. Plus, I would enjoy the company," Margot says.

  "Of course," I murmur, setting the dulled practice sword aside. "A break would be nice."

  Clara looks over at me, but she does not comment on the early end to the training, the baby too distracting. We follow Margot out of the practice room and to one of the sitting rooms, where she has an array of food set out, beautifully prepared.

  "It looks delicious, Margot. My thanks," I say as we sit.

  "Yes, thank you. You did not have to," Clara says.

  Margot smiles. "I wanted to talk and figured food is bait," she says, though I know that's not true.

  Margot has a good heart. As we eat, Margot and Clara immediately fall into English. The sound and cadence are still foreign, but I enjoy listening to their conversations. I have even picked up a few words here and there. But mostly, I enjoy seeing Clara's face light up when she speaks her native tongue. Perhaps I should attempt to learn more.

  "Perhaps I can practice with you too," Margot says.

  I blink, interrupted from my thoughts and confused how she would know what I was thinking.

  "Practice?" I ask.

  "How to fight with a sword," she says. "Elorshin has taught me the basics, but it is not like I have had much of a chance to hone my skills," she says, smiling down at the baby.

  "Of course," I agree. "Perhaps we can begin tomorrow?"

  "That sounds wonderful! Everyone around here is so much bigger, I feel like I need at least some skill set just in case."

  That is true. I have been large my whole life. It's something I take for granted, knowing I will be at least as strong as my opponent. But Margot is even smaller than Clara. It is a significant disadvantage in any kind of physical altercation.

  "I know what you mean," Clara agrees. "Actually, you might learn how to use a staff to decrease the gap we have in reach. And jiu-jitsu might be something to learn too. The sword has its good points and I want to learn how to use one, but the larger opponent still has the advantage."

  "I would love to learn how to use a staff! And jiu-jitsu?" Margot is smiling from ear to ear, her face glowing with excitement. "That would be awesome!"

  But before Clara can continue that branch of the conversation, the baby fusses, not quite crying yet.

  "Sorry, the Princess needs her nap," Margot says with a sigh, standing up and rocking the baby. "I will come look for you after I put her down."

  "Sure," Clara says, making a face at the baby.

  The baby bares her gums in a happy smile.

  "Sure, give her the smile!" Margot laughs as she walks out.

  Clara chuckles as she raises her cup to drink.

  "Jiu-jitsu?" I repeat, forming the word carefully, curious. "What is that? Is it a weapon?"

  Clara smiles. "No. It is a fighting... technique that smaller people can use to defend against larger fighters. Would you like to see?"

  "Yes," I agree right away, intrigued.

  She grins. "Great, let's go back to the practice room."

  As soon as we began, I regret my decision to ask for a demonstration. Jiu-jitsu involves a lot of close contact, especially once on the ground.

  Clara is wearing men's clothes, donning trousers and a loose shirt. Initially, it was for our practices, but she wears them all the time now. I understand the need for mobility. I also like how she looks in them as they show her shape more than dresses do. In fact, they have been quite distracting. Especially when she bends over to pick something up.

  The problem I am encountering at the moment is that the trousers mean there are not yards of thick fabric between us when her limbs wrap around mine.

  "Try again," she says.

  I attempt to pin her again. She pulls on one arm, sweeps a leg, and somehow I am underneath her again.

  "I believe you have won once again. Perhaps we should move back to the sword?" I ask, trying not to sound desperate.

  "Come on Drevakin," she teases, adjusting herself so she is resting on top of me. "Don't tell me you're a sore loser."

  Her smile freezes as she tries to move again and encounters my rock hard cock. She meets my eyes, hers wide.

  "I apologize," I murmur. "It's the close quarters."

  And that I have wanted to have her naked and underneath me almost since the first time I set my eyes on her. But I do not believe saying so will improve the situation. She licks her lips, wiggling on top of me. My cock jumps as she brushes against it.

  This is torture. A kind I simultaneously want to stop and continue.

  "Perhaps we should finish this session," I suggest, making my voice firm, attempting to slide out from under her.

  "What if I don't want to stop?"

  There is no mistaking she means what she says. I let out a breath even as my body urges me to accept what she is offering.

  "I do not think you understand the enormity of what—"

  "You mean the Paritella?" Clara interrupts. "I have read about it. And I have spoken to Margot about it." She takes a deep breath and lets it out again as she settles her weight heavily on top of me. "It sounds beautiful."

  I swallow. This is not what I expected to hear.

  "Yes, it is beautiful," I agree. "But it is also irrevocable. It would bind me to you, forever. What if you decide you want to leave? To go back to Earth?"

  "I will not," she says, her face sincere. "There is nothing there for me."

  "I have nothing to offer you here," I retort, though I am running out of the strength to argue with her on top of me, ready and willing.

  She shakes her head.

  "You have you to offer me," she whispers, dropping her head to lay a light kiss on my lips. "But I know that... that the Paritella might not happen. There is a chance... perhaps I am not your Pari." She looks away. "I understand if you don’t want to chance it and bind yourself to me."

  Growling, I close my hands over her hips and flip us so she is under me. I dislike that she is doubting herself. And just like that, the fear of her not being my Pari is gone. It is Clara I want.

  "I don't care if you are not my Pari," I mutter. "I want you even without the Paritella. If it does not occur, I will still want you. Understand?" I demand.

  She smiles shakily. "Yes."

  I nod. "But I have to ask once again, are you certain?"

  "Yes." She cups my face. "I have never been more certain."

  My control breaks. No, it shatters. Shatters into so many pieces I know I can never regain it even if I wanted to. With a broken sound, I lean down and set my mouth on hers, groaning as the taste of her floods my senses.

  The taste of Clara. The taste of the female who is mine. It has been too long since the last time. But then I stop, breaking the kiss.

  "What?" she gasps as I stand, sweeping her up in my arms.

  "We will do this in a proper bed," I explain, my voice hoarse with pent up desire. "With a closed door between us and the rest of this House," I say, striding down the hall toward my bedch
amber.

  Though perhaps striding is not quite the correct word. My cock is not happy about being so tightly confined as I move.

  "Oh. Well, fine. That sounds nice," Clara agrees with a small laugh, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I reach the bedchamber and enter, closing the door with my foot before setting Clara down on the bed.

  "Your clothes," I mutter. "You do not require them any longer."

  I strip her. She helps and in moments, she is naked. And what a sight she is. I step back to full admire her form. Her smooth, golden skin shines, the roundness of her breasts delectable, the curve of her waist, her hips...

  Luscious.

  "You are... exquisite," I mutter, taking a step toward her.

  "Not yet," she interrupts before I can touch her. "Your clothes too," she demands, her eyes sliding down my body in appreciation.

  I rip off my clothes with a lot less care than I took with hers. And that is all the patience I have. I cover her body with mine, setting my mouth upon hers as I mold her curves with my hands, wanting to touch all of her at once.

  The kiss is reckless abandon and desperation as I pour all of my pent up desire into her, all of my hopes and anxieties. She meets me kiss for kiss, her lushly feminine body rubbing against mine in need.

  When I reach between her legs, I know how much she wants me.

  With a groan, I take my mouth off her and kiss my way down her neck to her breasts, sucking on them until she is writhing under me, her nails digging into my scalp.

  I love how my Clara is losing control.

  Reaching down, I take a firm hold on each of her knees and push them up and wide, baring her most private area. Meeting her eyes, I lean down and set my mouth on her, directly over the center of her desire.

  She cries out as I lick, not teasing her at all, but pushing her toward an orgasm as quick as possible. Now that I have her, I do not want to wait. She bucks underneath me as I do not relent on the suction and the licks, giving her no quarter. And then pushing more.

  She cries out in mere moments as her body clenches in ecstasy, her wetness overflowing. I keep up the stimulation until she falls limp under me, letting out a sigh. Now she is ready.