A Most Unsuitable Mate

by Carolyn Faulkner

  Her mother—to Cika's horror—had been nodding throughout his little speech, but then she trained her piercing gaze on her .

  "What say you about all of this, daughter ?"

  Vallon stepped closer to Cika, putting his arm around her waist, telling her with much more confidence than he actually felt in his words, "She is my wife, and she will do as she is told ."

  That got her mother to laugh outright. "Cika? This girl has never once, in my much longer experience with her than you, ever done what she was told. I tried to educate her, tried to impart my knowledge about governing to her as she grew up. She much preferred to spend her time reading fairy tales about faraway lands, as opposed to learning anything that might actually be useful to her or the people she was to rule. She's always had her head in the clouds ."

  "Well, I have my own methods of grounding her and even managed to put them into place in a society that—if that fact were known—would probably throw me off a cliff for merely daring to exist and putting my beliefs into action—especially on a member of the royal family ."

  Her mother balked. "Well, I'd like to think that we wouldn't be quite that rigid, but you could be right." She brought herself up to her full height, which wasn't much, especially in comparison with Vallon's. "Still, I would hear it from her lips ."

  Vallon opened his mouth again, but Queen Raythe gave him the eye, and he shut it again .

  "Cika?" she asked, quite gently .

  The younger woman raised eyes to her mother that were filled with tears. "I don't know what to say! I don't know what would be the right thing to do, Mother ."

  "Do you want to be with this man and live in his society, which, from what I now understand of it, sounds like a terribly restrictive place for a woman, but then, it is not I who would be living there ?"

  "As opposed to ascending to a throne I don't want and am not fit to assume? Or being banished to live out my life alone somewhere? Even if he stayed here with me ?"

  The queen's eyes darted to Vallon's. "Oh, I don't think that is even an option, dear. I doubt his father would allow the crown prince to remain here ."

  Cika put her hands over her face and sobbed. "I must not be very smart, because I cannot see any clear choice ."

  She felt Vallon's arm tighten around her at that, knowing that was not what he wanted her to say, but she was being completely honest. She had feelings for him, she did. But they were new and tentative, and she truly didn't know which way to turn .

  Her mother cupped her wet cheeks in her hands. "You are not stupid, Cika. In fact, of my children, you are by far the smartest, and I think that that has been part of your problem from the start. The best queens are not always the smartest ."

  Finally, Vallon felt could remain silent no longer. "While I appreciate your desire to hear your daughter's viewpoint, my Queen, I believe that, as her husband, I have stated that the matter has already been settled. Banish her or not, it will be of no consequence to us—although I might ask you to consider not doing so, if you would ever like to see any of your grandchildren by us. The bare truth of the matter is that your daughter could well be pregnant by now with my child. There is absolutely no possibility, therefore, that I would ever leave here without her, and whether or not she prefers to go with me is really not a consideration ."

  Raythe inclined her head to Vallon, looking at him and then back at her daughter. "Well, then, I guess that is the end of the discussion, isn't it ?"

  * * *

  N ot being the best sort with the hard sciences, Cika had never been in a spaceship before, and she hadn't necessarily been looking forward to being in this one, either, but here she was .

  When they had gone back to the throne room, her mother had announced that she, Princess Cika, was indeed going to be leaving and going back to Juqar with Prince Vallon, who was most definitely her husband and mate. Beyond that, she declined to elaborate, except to say that the couple would, out of necessity, be leaving as soon as possible .

  So now—only a few hours later—she found herself hurtling through space towards Vallon's home planet, having left behind literally everyone and everything she was familiar with, except for the books and clothes and personal affects she had brought with her. She was in a bit of a state of shock, simply sitting there, staring out the window at the stars passing them by .

  Of the two men, Vallon was the only one who knew how to read Aristolian, so he was being kept quite busy piloting the ship, although Lord Hawl was obviously doing everything he could to help. She was sitting in the back row of chairs, well away from the both of them, glad that they were both too busy to pay much attention to her .

  Eventually, though, Vallon got up, heading back to where the facilities were, and saw her just sitting there. "Why don't you go lie down and take a nap? This is a long trip, Cika, and you might as well rest up. We're probably going to be quite busy, once we arrive ."

  "No, thank you," she said quietly, not really having so much as turned in her chair to look at him or acknowledge that he was there. "I'm not sleepy ."

  Suddenly, he was at her elbow, reaching down to swing her chair around and grabbing onto the arms so that she had to look up at him. "I'm not asking, Cika. Do as you are told, please," he said, leaning up and moving out of the way to stand in the aisle looking at her expectantly .

  Frowning darkly, she sighed in obvious annoyance but did get up and head for their bedroom. Vallon called up to Hawl, saying that he would be back in a minute. Hawl smiled slightly in commiseration with his friend. "I'll be fine. You do what you need to do ."

  Nodding, Vallon turned back to follow his wife into their cabin, closing the door behind him. Although he had other things he intended to do, for a moment, he simply leaned back against the door and watched her, not quite able to believe that he'd managed to accomplish what he wanted, and that she was now truly his .

  She had obeyed him—at least to the letter—and was lying there on top of the covers, her eyes closed, but he sincerely doubted that she was asleep yet .

  So, he made his way to her side of the bed and sat down, reaching to pull her over his lap .

  "What are you doing?" she yelled, fighting him all the way .

  Of course, she lost, badly, ending up right where he wanted her. "Well," he answered, voice low, "Originally, I was just going to check to see how your little rump was after I had taken the belt to it, but I think that, with that attitude, forgetting to call me sir multiple times, and trying to physically thwart my will, you've earned yourself a punishment ."

  Seconds later, her pants and panties were at half mast, binding her knees together nicely for him, having said rump—which was definitely not anywhere near recovered from the punishment he had delivered a night or so ago—stung by his atrociously thorough style of no nonsense discipline .

  And what was worse was that she was having to do so while trying—and not succeeding very well—not to cry out, which was damned near impossible. Everything in her wanted to scream with each and every smack—and she was pretty sure that was his exact intention. But they weren't in her room, where the walls were thick and there was no one else living around her, anyway .

  They were in a nice stateroom, but not twenty feet away was the man who was driving them to their destination, and Cika had no interest in letting him know that she was being spanked .

  But, after ten agonizing minutes, when he didn't seem to be showing any signs of stopping or even slowing down at all, she found she simply couldn't remain quiet any longer. And once she gave voice to her woes, she lost all ability to contain them at all .

  And that was just what he'd been waiting for, apparently, continuing to spank her good and hard, watching her try to kick at him uselessly, rocking herself as much as she could to try to avoid a swat—which she was
never able to—hearing her hiccoughing sobs and adding to them ruthlessly .

  When he'd finished spanking her, he wasn't finished with her, though. No, he flipped her onto her back, onto that roasted bottom, tugging her down to the edge of the mattress where he stood at the side of the bed and fitting himself between legs that she'd forgotten—in her misery—to keep closed. He drew her right onto the surging erection that he had simply reached down and freed from his pants—not even bothering to undress himself in the least—pressing her thighs as far back as he could to expose her more thoroughly while continuing to force her to accept him—which her body had, of course, made easier for him since he had punished her. Vallon looked down to see how she was stretched tight around him, then began to thrust at the sight—hard and heavy from the start, occasionally reaching under her to squeeze a hot cheek, sending her arching against him and further onto him each time .

  "Take off the rest of your clothes," he ordered .

  The sobbing that had been replaced by pleasurable moans returned as she sniffled and whimpered—but obeyed him, which he counted as a good thing. When she had finished and was completely nude before him, he murmured, "Good girl, Princess. Put your hands over your head, and no matter what I do to you, you had better not move them, or you'll earn yourself another spanking before I leave you to take a nap ."

  She groaned in protest, but he watched as her hands crept up to where he wanted them to be, anyway. "Good girl," he praised again, patting—somewhat less than gently—her most tender bits, which were obscenely presented to him because of the way he was holding her, his roughness causing her to jerk and cry out with each descent of his very targeted fingers .

  But then, they began to work on that much better version of a little button of hers, and he found himself serenaded by the most salacious sounding moans, which only drove him to take her—and frig her—faster, until they both exploded at the same time, her clamping and clenching around him and him snapping his hips as he held on to her tips, each thrust adding a touch of pain to her ultimate pleasure .

  With a last, heavy surge into her, he draped his body over hers, looking up to note with satisfaction that her hands were where they were supposed to be, over her head. They were gripping the coverlet for dear life, but she had kept them in position .

  "Good princess," he whispered into her ear. "You came well for me ."

  Vallon had no idea why, but his words had the opposite effect than he had intended, and she began to cry, asking through her tears, "S-sir, may I take my h-hands down now ?"

  "Yes, of course," he responded instantly, rubbing her biceps and shoulders in case they were aching from having been up there for so long. Then, as she continued to sob softly, he removed her clothes completely from the bed, tucked her under the covers and kissed her cheek. "I want you to take a nap, Cika. You need your sleep. You've been through a very stressful time, and I want you to relax during this voyage as much as you can ."

  She was still weeping when he stood looking back at her from the doorway. "Stay in bed until I come for you. I don't want you to do anything but sleep or lie here quietly ."

  No reading, in other words, she frowned, fresh tears flowing down her cheeks .

  He had to force himself to leave her there. Although he chalked it up to exactly what he had said to her—being overtired and overstressed—he still wanted to stay with her and hold her and talk to her about why she was crying .

  But he really couldn't. Hawl was an experienced pilot, but not with one of these foreign babies, and he really needed to be up front, steering the thing and making sure they didn't get off course. So, reluctantly, keeping his eyes on her as long as he could, Vallon shut the door and applied himself to getting them all home as quickly and as safely as he possibly could .

  Chapter 8

  T he trip was long and boring and she ran out of books within the first week. She was sleeping a lot, which seemed to make Vallon happy, although it was really just a means of escaping the monotony. The beauty of space was amazing for about the first day; after that, there ended up being so damned much of it, and, to her, it all looked the same .

  Her self-proclaimed husband kept her busy whenever he was off duty—which she counted herself as lucky wasn't very often. He seemed different from how he had been when they had their secret little relationship—edgier, more tense and even more apt to punish any small trespasses he noticed her committing than he had been before. He slept probably six hours at a time, but the rest of it, he was quite well occupied with the ship .

  And that was wrong—he slept five hours. Every time he headed to the bedroom—whether she was sitting quietly in the chair she had begun to think of as hers or she was already in bed asleep, she was expected to accommodate him—and he was downright voracious. It seemed he could never get enough of her—and sometimes, he took her again before he left. None of these couplings were one sided—the prince seemed to think it a matter of pride to reduce her to a mindless mass of quivering jelly, each and every time, and he even forbade her from trying to be quiet about it, too. She knew their third wheel could hear everything he was doing to her, whether it was the frequent punishments—usually with his hand, but sometimes with her hairbrush, which she wished she could throw out a window or burn, neither of which were possibilities, unfortunately—which were given for any and all in fractions of his rules or simply because he wanted to hear her scream one way before making her do so for the exact opposite reason. It seemed to her that her life consisted only of those three things—coupling, being punished or sleeping .

  She got so desperate for something to do that she actually put aside her own embarrassment about what their terribly close quarters had revealed to him about her and asked Hawl—who had turned out to be a very nice man—to teach her a few things about the stars and how to navigate in space. She was really just trying to keep herself occupied and not go stir crazy .

  But Vallon stopped that, too, without ever having to say a word to her, but just giving his unfortunate friend a particularly wolfish glare .

  She never thought she would begin to look forward to landing somewhere she'd never been before, a place that was bound to be incredibly foreign to her, but she definitely was .

  * * *

  V allon knew that he shouldn't have put his foot down about her talking to Hawl, but she smiled at his friend so much more readily than she did him, for some reason, that he couldn't stand it. He knew it was just because Hawl was someone with which she had no history—he didn't fuck her when she might not want to be—driving her to endless orgasms anyway—and he didn't routinely spank her bottom till she was gasping sobs, either .

  Finally, the day arrived and they were given clearance to land—as well as a loud round of applause from the landing crew. He put them down perfectly, even though he had never landed this particular bird .

  "You ready to go?" he asked her as they all stood in the tiny space, Hawl with his finger on the button that would blow the hatch and put down the stairs, allowing them to exit .

  She was standing a few feet away from him, not meeting his eyes. She had slept the majority of the past four weeks, and yet she looked more tired now than when they had boarded on Aristol. Cika looked pale and frail and nervous, as if she hadn't a friend in the world .

  And she hadn't a friend in this world, he remembered starkly, beyond himself .

  At the stark realization of what it was that she had done, Vallon walked over to her, putting his arm around her waist, ignoring the way she tried to casually walk out from under it and crooking his arm a bit more tightly to hold her in place. Then he nodded to Hawl. "Open it ."

  "You two go ahead of me," he said with a grin. "No one wants to see me ."

  Vallon grinned back. "That's not what I heard—I bet there's a line of women waiting for you a mile wide ."

  "Nah, just a hal
f a mile," he joked, standing back to let them pass down the narrow aisle .

  He went first, holding her hand and tugging her along behind him. The moment the crowd saw him, their roar of approval was deafening—noticeably less so when she appeared behind him—more of a loud murmur of disapproval, but she did her best to ignore it. He went down the stairs slowly, looking back at her constantly as if she didn't know how to negotiate stairs—or as if he thought she might try to make a break for it .

  * * *

  T he first person to greet them must've been his father. He was an older man, distinguished looking, with a grey beard and a surprisingly kind face. He hugged his son like a man who was eternally grateful to be able to do so again, tears shining unabashedly in his eyes .

  Behind him and to his right was a much smaller woman, to whom the king handed his son off, eventually, and with some reluctance, and she hugged him the exact same way. She would have done so for longer, but he broke it off to turn back towards her .

  Cika was lingering on the bottom step, not wanting to intrude in any way or interrupt a family reunion .

  Vallon caught her hand and led her to stand before his father. "Father, this is my wife, Princess Cika ."

  She dropped to her knees before him, murmuring, "Your Royal Highness," before burying her face in her hands as was the custom, she had read. He instantly reached down and brought her back up. "Daughter," he said, looking her straight in the eye, then kissing her forehead and hugging her in very much the same fashion—and with the same enthusiasm—as he had his son .