Author's Note- Ok, so the chapters prior to this were simply for background and a bit of character building. Here it's begins to get into the juicy storyline. I will not deny, I find writing fics like this so much more difficult than writing original pieces. I'm trying my best not too distort Vegeta's character too much. Let me know your thoughts.

Chapter Three

Vegeta had been training for three hours solid since his breakfast break. The need to stop again and rest was growing with every minute, but under Frieza's watchful eye, he had no choice but to carry on.

The lizard had been goading him all morning with whispered tales of last nights events- how he'd dishonoured his father's choice for princess, how she'd liked it. Several times he'd retaliated, and now he had the stinging gashes across his back to prove it.

The rest of the Elite squad were already showing physical signs of exhaustion, and Frieza was revelling in taunting them.

"Tired already, boys and girls?" he drawled, eyeing them all disdainfully. "That's too bad! Normally, I'd have you carry on, but seeing as you're being so pathetic, and as I'm in such a good mood today…we shall break this little session. Ninety minutes, then I want you all back here."

Vegeta cast his captor a foul look as he picked up his towel and stalked angrily out of the Elite training centre. He could sense Raditz not far behind, but he chose to ignore him. He didn't want to speak with him right now. The confines of his private cell were all he sought.

Swiftly he marched to his quarters and made a distinct point of locking his door, a clear message to any fool who dared disturb him. The moment the door had clasped down, he let out a mighty roar of pain, ripping of his already torn training shirt and throwing it down on the floor.

"That looks sore," came a tranquil voice from the darkness.

The prince was startled- for all his anger he had not even sensed the intruder in his room. Quickly, he switched on the lights to see Lithia sitting calmly on his bunk, surveying the wounds across his back.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" Vegeta snapped, annoyed by both her presence and her downright cheek. As always she moved and bent herself down before him respectfully. This soothed his vile mood somewhat, and he, though reluctantly, touched her on the top of her head.

She did not stand, only looked up, her eyes two black pools burning fire.

"It seems you're taking a lot of crap on my behalf," she said darkly.

"Don't flatter yourself!" he smirked sarcastically. "It's a principle, nothing to do with you!"

"Of course not," she responded, returning his sass with a perfect smile. He shoved her so she tumbled back on to her hands, almost lying on the floor at his feet.

"Good, I like you down there," he muttered, sweeping into the bathroom and starting to fill the sink with hot water. "Come and make yourself useful!"

He leant firmly against the sink, watching her enter through the reflection the mirror. She clearly knew what she was to do- she took up a clean cloth, moistened it with warm water and began to dab rather roughly at his wounds. The water stung horribly, but the prince did his best not to grimace. After all, the last thing he wanted was more taunting.

"Better?" she asked, shortly, though the assuring hand on his shoulder conflicted with her prickly tone.

"It's fine," Vegeta responded. It was actually beginning to feel quite nice, but she wasn't to know that.

"If you had a basin, I could do this on the bed," she continued, touching each wound lightly with the cloth and then rinsing it. Venito resisted the urge to snigger at such a comment. He continued to stare forcedly into the mirror, gripping the sink tighter as she worked down his back.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" Lithia observed, a hint of amusement to her voice. She trailed her tail along the path she had just taken the cloth, sending a little tremor down his spine.

"Stop that!" he growled crossly. "I didn't ask to be tickled."

The girl merely laughed and carried on with her task. When she'd finished, she rinsed the cloth and set it on side of the sink to dry.

"I have some of that ointment Nappa used on my face," she told him. "Shall I put some on?"

"Why not," Vegeta sighed. "Do it on the bunk. I'm tired."

She nodded and followed him though into his cell. Secretly, he was thoroughly enjoying this obedience on her behalf. Perhaps injuries should occur more often if they got him this sort of attentive care from his subjects.

He lay himself down on the bed, his face nestled in the pillow. Lithia perched on his right and began to rub the odd-smelling solution into his open wounds. It sent violent streaks of pain through his skin.

"Dammit!" he roared, gripping the edges of his pillow tightly. The girl was unperturbed and continued to apply the ointment tenderly with the tips of her fingers.

"You'll be lucky if these don't scar, even with this on," she told him.

"I can't say I care," the prince sighed. "It'll be just a few more for the growing collection."

Lithia smiled and put the lid back on the tiny bottle.

"All done," she said, pursing her lips in a mocking manner. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," Vegeta lied impulsively, looking over his shoulder to where the girl was sitting. She was still grinning wickedly, despite a hint of anger that glittered in the depths of her eyes. "Stop taunting me," he scolded. "It's annoying."

"Oh, I am sorry," Lithia shot back sarcastically. "What you rather me do, your highness?"

"Order lunch," he commanded. "I'm starving."

Lithia rolled her eyes and slipped off the bed, crossing the room to the intercom. Vegeta watched her, grinning to himself. She was always so ready to serve him! He valued obedience in a female- it was a rather attractive quality. Then again, he thought, Lithia was becoming a rather attractive girl. He had not noticed until recently. Looking her up and down as she was conversing with the intercom, he noted she was small- but he liked that. It wouldn't do to have a woman towering over you all the time. She was slender too, no way near as muscular as the remaining males of her species. Still, he liked this. Saiyan women were strong yes, but never as much so as the males- and he preferred it that way. Yet, most striking of all was her figure. Over the past few years, her body had become more and more like those of Freiza's harem of girls- curvaceous hips, a tiny waist and a rather remarkable bosom.

Yes, she was blossoming, to be sure, and he wasn't the only man to have noticed it. Just yesterday morning, Raditz had made some lewd comment about what he'd like to do to her. The prince had, of course, made sure he'd regretted it. As far as he was concerned, she was still promised to him.

"Ten minutes," she told him, sauntering back over to bed to inspect his wounds. "I had them bring your usual tonne or so. Oh look, you're healing!"

"Sign of a strong saiyan," he boasted, rolling over onto his front and grinning up at her. "No one makes me bleed my own blood for long."

Lithia's eyes flickered casually over his chest for a moment. Vegeta noticed. What was that? Disapproval? Surely not, she was as scantily clad as he! Attraction? Perhaps. Yet she'd never displayed any sign of attraction to him before, though he couldn't she why she wouldn't. He was her prince! Surely no saiyan was more desirable to females than their prince?

"Would you like me to fetch you a new shirt?" she asked, her tone thoroughly unreadable.

"No," Vegeta replied, carefully gauging her reaction. "I'm not cold."

Still, her face remained passive, unfathomable except for an odd glimmer in her eyes, and this time it wasn't anger. Her tail was wrapped round her waist, giving nothing away.

"Sit," he ordered, tugging at her skirt so she fell forwards onto the bunk. "You and I must talk."

At this her entire body seemed to stiffen, if only momentarily.

"About what, Vegeta?" she asked airily. Again, those eyes travelled across his chest, with no hint of a reaction registering on her face. Vegeta was growing impatient and frustrated, so he decided to stoke the fire a little.

"Just stuff," he murmured, in an equally casual voice. "Come closer. I can't be fussed to raise my voice."

The girl inched a little closer to him, steadying herself with a daring hand on his stomach so as not to slide off the bunk. Vegeta noticed the sudden increase in her breathing; her own chest was heaving up and down just that little bit faster. He smirked- she did want him! Oh, this was just too funny. A cruel little plot formed in the back of his mind and he smirked harder still.

"What are you smiling at?" Lithia asked, in a voice quite unlike her usual playful, mocking tone. It was lower, softer; barely audible yet enticing. The prince paused to ponder his move- he'd never done this before. He'd seen it done plenty of times- the number of occasions he'd discovered Zarbon at it with one of Freiza's whores. Was there a technique? Surely not! Well if there was, how hard could it be? All he needed to do was to overwhelm the girl so much she'd melt right into him. He eyed her soft little mouth, poised and waiting for his reply. Then, without warning, he lunged forward and attached himself to her lips.

She squealed at first, clearly unsure of how to react to such a sentimental gesture. Yet intrigue and desire quickly took over her saiyan instincts. She yielded, and her tail uncoiled and snuck teasingly round his waist. The prince was in shock- he could not believe how much he was enjoying this! Her mouth was tender and sweet and deliciously inviting, and despite the fact he had not the faintest clue what he was doing, he couldn't bring himself to stop. He was tingling all over and it was pleasant. The sugary scent of her skin and hair was intoxicating. Blindly, for he could not will his eyes to open, he reclined back into his pillow, pulling his female prize on top of him.

The weight of her body atop his only added to his pleasure. This couldn't go on. He could already feel a particular brand of desire stirring in him. He knew he must stop before he embarrassed himself. Annoyed, he wrenched his lips away from hers and wriggled out from underneath her. Lithia let out a magnificent sigh and languidly opened her eyes.

"Why did you stop?" she murmured drowsily, her voice a bare whisper. With her dark hair beautifully ruffled around her head, and her tail lashing back and forth, she looked rather like a slender black lion, lounging in sun.

Vegeta lay next to her, his chest also heaving now, resisting the powerful urge to roll over and do it again. He knew if he did there'd be consequences. Not to mention this way he had her under his control, begging for more, and that was useful.

"No more now," he gasped, casting her a teasing grin. "You're tiring me and I'm supposed to be resting up."

Just as he'd suspected, the young woman rolled over and slipped an arm around his waist, pressing her tender form against his muscles. He gasped- even the touch of her skin on his was electric!

Suddenly, the door to the cell opened, and several of Freiza's lesser servants marched in, each carrying platter upon platter of food. They stopped dead at the sight of the teenage prince canoodling with Lithia.

"Who the hell gave you permission to enter?!" Vegeta yelled, quickly jumping away from Lithia's embrace. "The door was locked for a reason! Put that down and get the hell out of my sight!"

The servants were as frightened of the stronger saiyan as they were of their master. Hurriedly, they set the dishes down on the bureau and dashed out of the cell, muttering feeble apologies as they went.

Vegeta stalked irritably over to the door and locked it for a second time. Then he turned his attention to the food that was bombarding his senses, fully over-riding his more intimate urges. A selection of his usual favourites was there, plus an unusual dish that he didn't recognise, something he assumed Lithia had ordered.

"Your food's over here," he called through mouthfuls of vegetable rice. Saiyan to the bone, Lithia rushed over the bureau. He didn't blame her. Kissing was hungry work!