A Baby for the Alien Prince: Celestial Mates (The Alva)

by Miranda Martin

  She lets go for a moment and I open my eyes, curious.

  She is lathering up her hands with soap.

  Her grin is broad and I groan when she slides her now slick hands up my shaft, adding extra stimulation to the tip with her thumb.

  I know I will last but a moment.

  The sound of her slick hands moving up and down my shaft echoes in the intimate cavern.

  I open my eyes, taking in the sight of her slick, nude body, the glow from the sieni highlights the curves and shadows of her feminine form.

  That is the end of my control.

  Groaning, I slap my hands onto the ledge on either side of Margot, leaning down to kiss her even as my seed spurts out and onto her hands, the climax so strong my legs struggle to stand upright.

  Finally, it ends and I break the kiss, bracing my forehead against hers as I catch my breath.

  As I look into her lovely eyes, so close to my own, I know my struggle to avoid tying myself to Margot Whelan for the rest of my life span will only grow more difficult.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Margot

  I dress for the day and look through the Alvan language book the Celestial Mates agent gave me.

  I've been pouring over it for weeks and I have the basics down, though the syntax and pronunciation still trip me up.

  And my vocabulary still has plenty of holes.

  Still, being understood feels great, at least when I say simple things.

  Today, I finally feel confident enough to ask for help with cleaning and livening this place up. I've been itching to get my hands on it, but I've been a little hesitant since my experience with cleaning last time.

  I woke up this morning determined to at least try.

  If this is going be my home too, I want it to be clean and comfortable. Elorshin has a lot on his plate, so I can understand him not prioritizing this project, but I have nothing but time on my hands and I want to put it to use.

  I feel myself flagging a little as I remember how angry he was when he saw me holding a dusting rag last time.

  But I don't have Finn to give me a pep talk, so I try giving one to myself.

  With mixed results.

  "You got this," I say to myself in the mirror. "Nobody can stand in your way. You are a strong, powerful woman!"

  I stare at myself for a moment.

  Yeah, really not working.

  It was worth a try.

  Hey, worst case scenario, I get licked to another mind blowing orgasm.

  Squaring my shoulders, I walk out of the bedroom, out into the hall, and down the stairs to the first floor.

  I've grown used to the general dimness here, though I still prefer when there's a fire lit. Especially since it also means added warmth.

  The living area is empty, so I follow the chatter of voices to the kitchen. Two young maids are there along with the heavy-set cook, her wide smile as welcoming as always.

  I smile back.

  "Good morning," I say, carefully intoning the words to make sure I get them right. They murmur back a respectful greeting. "Can you help me clean the house today?" I ask, hoping I get it right.

  When they look at each other in confusion, I think I might have messed up.

  The maids shrug and each of them grabs a wash cloth, wringing it out with water in a basin. They walk over.

  Oh, well maybe I got it right.

  But then one of them picks up my right hand and wipes the damp cloth over it.

  "Uh, what are you doing?" I ask.

  She looks up at me with a tentative smile.

  "You asked us to help you wash up."

  Oops.

  I shake my head, pulling my hand away with an embarrassed smile.

  "Um, thank you. Really. But I meant the house," I say, gesturing around me. "Not me."

  "Oh! You mean clean the house! You said you needed help washing yourself in the house!" the maid exclaims.

  The cook snorts.

  The maid tries to hold in a giggle.

  I can't help chuckling and it breaks the tension, everyone laughing at my mistake.

  I mean, I'll take it.

  Now that they know what I meant, they gather the cleaning supplies and we start on the living area.

  I've worked hard memorizing all the words I thought I might need today. Their faces are serious as they focus on what I say, nodding as I lay out everything I want done.

  "And the sieni does not look...happy?" I try, not knowing how to say healthy.

  The maids share a smile and provide a word, nodding as they look at the somewhat dull and patchy sieni with critical eyes.

  "I will fetch the house gardener," the shorter one says with a firm nod.

  She leaves and the other maid and I start with the plan I set out, beginning with dusting.

  The other maid returns with an older man who looks at me with suspicious eyes.

  "The sieni does not look healthy," I say, gesturing at the walls. "Can we help it?" I ask, not wanting to antagonize him.

  He looks at the sieni and nods, his face serious. "I will water and trim it, clearing the path for new growth, my Princess," he says, his voice gruff.

  "Wonderful," I say, beaming.

  He flushes a little at my smile, murmuring something as he takes his small cart of supplies to the wall.

  "Ladies, time to work," I say, rolling up my sleeves figuratively and literally.

  We get the dusting done, which takes time because the place hasn't seen a dusting since who knows when. I make sure we get the painting frames, the furniture, and the few candle stands here and there with candles that are never lit. I've lit the ones in my bedroom for extra light, along with the fireplace in there, but only the fireplace gets lit out here.

  Even the few rugs get a thorough beating.

  Though when I attempt to explain what I want to do, I know I've messed it up when the maids, and the cook who's come in to help, break into fits of laughter.

  Even the gruff gardener chuckles.

  "Sorry, my Princess," the cook says, wiping at her streaming eyes. "If you would like to murder the rugs, of course we'll help you. Though I confess, I do not know how one would go about killing one."

  "Oh no," I moan, slapping a hand on my forehead. "That is what I said?"

  They reassure me and I learn the correct word.

  If nothing else, my bumbling attempts at communicating are creating a happy atmosphere to work in. The maids are much less subdued, chattering away, the cook saying things here and there in her jovial, motherly tone.

  It takes a long while but we finish the dusting and move on to the floor. It most definitely needs a good scrubbing, stained and caked with dirt in some of the corners.

  "Let's do this," I murmur to myself.

  "Let's do this," one maid repeats my English with open curiosity. "What does it mean?"

  "It means...we are ready to attack," I say, trying to convey the feeling behind the phrase with my limited vocabulary.

  "Ah, yes," she agrees. "Let's do this!" she cries out in accented English, raising her broom.

  I laugh as the others chime in, raising whatever they have in their hands.

  My emotions lighten as I feel like I'm finally building some kind of relationship with them. I've been feeling lonely. It's nice to have people to talk to.

  We're about to get back to work when the front door opens.

  Everyone goes quiet.

  Feeling my stomach sink, I turn to see Elorshin in the doorway, his feet braced shoulder width apart, the hood of his heavy cloak pulled up to keep his head warm.

  He pushes the hood down, his face set in serious lines as he takes in the scene.

  Oh no, not again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Elorshin

  Walking into the House Mansion common area, my heart skips a beat when I see what's happening. Margot and much of the household staff are cleaning and chatting, the atmosphere jovial and welcoming.

  Well, that is until they see me and on
e by one they fall silent.

  I'm not surprised. My reaction the last time I found Margot cleaning was anger, almost rage. I was in a darker place then, emotional and otherwise.

  That is no longer the case.

  Now, my heart soars seeing Margot speaking to and learning about my people. She's attempting to grow roots here. A swelling feeling fills my chest until I'm sure I'll burst, unable to contain the upswell of joy. Seeing her enjoying herself, even though she watches me with trepidation, makes me happy in ways I haven't felt before.

  I smile when I reach her, trying to put her and the others at ease. Her return smile is tentative.

  "Do you need any help?" I ask.

  Her smile widens, brilliant and dazzling, as the tension in her body dissipates in relief. The servants breathe a collective sigh.

  "You know, we could use some..." she trails off as she searches for the word.

  Then she raises her arms and flexes her muscles, grunting. I blink at the display, not expecting it. I chuckle and the last of the apprehension in the room disappears. The servants laugh with me, realizing I'm not angry.

  "Strength?" I ask, reaching down to feel her small arms. "Yes, I think you need someone else to provide that."

  She rolls her eyes at the teasing.

  "Ha ha. Hilarious. I wanted maybe to push the furniture? The floor needs clean below and it looks more good that couch put there, and that seat more close to the fireplace. Nice to sit for guests."

  She speaks slowly, pronouncing each word with care. She's thinking hard, and a lot of her words are jumbled, but pride wells up at her progress.

  "Guests?" I ask, thinking about what she said. I haven't invited guests over in years. The only visitors have been ones bringing bad news or demands from House Viir. It brings a fresh smile to my face.

  Nodding, I look around the room observing what she has accomplished. It's a marvel how quick she is not only learning our language, but communicating with it. I know she spends much of her time pouring over the book from the Celestial Mates. The effort she has made to learn about us and our lives makes me question why I was so worried about an off-worlder understanding my people.

  "Of course. What would you like me to move first?" I ask, meeting her dark eyes, wanting to make an effort for her.

  "This couch here?" she suggests, pointing to one that is closer to the wall on one side. "Easier clean behind."

  I nod and motion for the gardener to help me move the couch. We rearrange one piece of furniture at a time, under Margot's direction. Putting them in one place, then another while she examines each move with a critical eye.

  When she hands me a broom to help clean the floor, everyone's eyes are on me, waiting for my reaction. My fingers brush hers as I take the handle, our eyes meet, a moment, fleeting, as our skin makes contact. So simple, yet I feel that small brush in my whole body.

  I can almost hear the sigh of relief as I take the broom, the underlying surprise clear. Glancing over my shoulder at them, I'm surprised. I'm not afraid of work. And if it's good enough for the Princess, it's good enough for the Prince.

  With multiple hands applied to the same task, it doesn't take much longer to clean the room and arrange the furniture as Margot wants it. The maids fetch more rugs under her direction and we roll those out, further softening the room. We hang the paintings in new positions and add a large tapestry above the mantle as finishing touches.

  "I want candles light. Only a little time," she says, looking to me.

  I nod and we light all the candles but for one that Margot cannot reach. I take the slender lighting stick from her, brushing my hand more deliberately against hers this time and holding her eyes as I light the last candle.

  She absorbs all of my attention. The servants file out of the room and I barely notice. I'm focused on Margot and the way the flickering light brings out the warmth in her eyes. The way her dress bares her delicate collarbones and the tops of her full breasts. The slight flush to her cheeks from the physical work just finished.

  A door clicks and only then do I realize we're alone. Perfect.

  As I step closer, she tilts her head.

  My eyes drop to her lips.

  She leans in toward me as I do the same.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Margot

  Elorshin breaks the soft kiss.

  The candle light flickers in his eyes, the vibrant green hot as they stare into my own.

  "We are alone," he murmurs.

  I glance around the room and realize he's right.

  Everyone has left us to ourselves, the now sparkling clean room lit with the warm, romantic glow of candles.

  As I turn back, warmth flushes my cheeks as a tingling sensation sweeps up my neck and over my face. I'm embarrassed they felt the need to leave us alone.

  How obvious have we been?

  "Yes," I agree, locking in on his eyes. Losing myself in their emerald depths.

  "I believe perhaps we should make sure a certain alcove is clean and arranged," he says, his smile suggesting all sorts of things.

  Things I'm very interested in.

  "Excellent idea."

  No sooner have the words left my lips than he's swinging me up into his arms and carrying me to that same alcove where he first touched me. I'm suddenly aware of my heartbeat, pounding in my chest. A tight knot forms in my core and I grow wet remembering his touch.

  The alcove is different now, more welcoming and comfortable. I had a long, stuffed couch placed there along with cushions and candles on the ledge behind. The dancing flames of the candles cast shadows on the curtains that hang on either side to soften the stone.

  Looking at it now, maybe a part of me was preparing the space in case we used it again.

  I'm glad I did.

  Excellent job subconscious.

  Elorshin sets me down on the couch and moves back, his eyes still on me as he pulls the curtains, closing us into the intimate nook.

  "Take off your clothing," he orders, his eyes tracking back up my body to meet mine.

  I swallow at the demand as I sit up, liking the directness of his approach.

  "Only if you too," I say, my hand already going to where the bodice of my dress ties in the front, my fingers playing with the laces.

  His eyes follow the movement.

  "As my lady commands," he agrees, his voice low.

  The words and the tone send a slight shiver through me.

  I watch as he takes off his sturdy leather outerwear and then the warm shirt and trousers underneath.

  He's an efficient stripper, which I very much appreciate in a situation like this.

  And then he's standing completely, gloriously naked, the light picking out the dips and hollows of his body, his impressive muscle definition on full display.

  It's easy to forget how well built he is until he takes his clothes off. He's slender and agile but incredibly strong and defined. I can't help staring at his broad shoulders, his muscled chest and ripped abs, the obvious strength in his arms and legs.

  And the impressive length that juts out from his groin, the heavyweight of his testicles hanging underneath.

  Licking my lips I take my time looking at him, drinking in the sight.

  He might turn me into a more shallow person just by the sheer impact his body has on my senses.

  "I believe I have held up my end of the bargain," he laughs, after a few minutes of letting me ogle. "I want to see you."

  It's only fair.

  I nod, standing, taking a little longer to undress.

  Boots, leggings, and my dress.

  I didn't wear a chemise because the cut of the dress was too low and it it would have shown above the neckline.

  Elorshin groans as I take off the dress and he sees I'm bare underneath.

  "No chemise?" he asks, his eyes on my bare breasts.

  "Would see," I explain, taking a step toward him. "Come."

  He doesn't waste time.

  He's here in an instant, his h
ands guiding me back down on to the couch as his mouth finds mine.

  The shock of sudden full skin contact raises the heat level. Our hands are everywhere on each other, like we're both trying to touch every inch of skin at once.

  I love the contrast of his indigo skin against mine.

  I love how soft and smooth he is under my hands, the firmness of his muscle underneath, how his massive size makes me feel small and delicate in comparison.

  But I really, really love how clearly he wants me.

  I instinctively arch up against him as one of his hands squeezes my breast, his leg insinuating itself between mine and pushing up to put pressure where I want it the most. Want is too weak a word, need. Pulse pounding, burning need.

  He groans as I arch up against his thigh, moving my legs farther apart to get gain better access.

  He moves his other leg between mine as well to give me more room, not thinking about what position that would put us in. We both freeze as his cock slides along the slick furrow between my legs.

  Panting, he raises his head, his eyes sliding down my body to where his cock nestles between my lips. His hard length wet with my juices, the head peaking up from the top of my cleft.

  He stares at the sight for a moment.

  Then his eyes rise to meet mine and I think he will pull away from this final act like he always does.

  I brace for the disappointment.

  But he doesn't pull away.

  He keeps the searing eye contact as he reaches between us and grips himself at the base, using his hold on himself to rub his slick head up and down, hitting my sensitive clitoris each time. I shudder under his attention, my eyelids grow heavy with desire, I want him.

  "You are mine, Margot," he says, his voice intense as he notches the wide head of his cock against my opening.

  And then he pushes in.

  I gasp, raising my knees to make more room for him, my eyes not leaving his as he slowly, inexorably pushes his thick length into me.

  I've never taken a man this big, and now it's happening, Butterflies war with the edges of fear as concern if I can take him rises.