Chapter 17. Quickening

Akane found herself drifting in and out of a light sleep. She was too tuned in on her surroundings to settle into a deeper slumber. Her senses were fixed on every sound, every feel, every scent. His mighty presence left room for nothing else as she lay there with her Prince. Her sore body was draped over his strong form, their abdomen pressed together, her arms lying at his sides and his arms loosely wrapped about her back, the inside of her legs pressed against the outside of his, almost forming a single entity together. Their breathing was in sync. Even the beating of their hearts had aligned. It was just repulsive how well they matched.

She lifted her head to look at his face. His features, normally stoic, were somehow softer now, almost serene. He was… beautiful. She had no other word for it. She extended her hand, supressing the snarl that wanted to leave her at the pain in her left shoulder the movement caused her. She touched his face hesitantly, her fingers lightly following the contours of his strong jaw. His skin was smooth and pale, the light bronze of her fingers forming a steep contrast to his royal skin-tone. There were no serious scars to be found on his face, unlike on the rest of his body, unlike her own disfigured face. His princely looks had been miraculously well preserved.

Her fingers carefully explored his features further and she took note of how she held her breath while familiarizing herself with him. It just scared the kack out of her that she had fallen for him so hard and so fast. She followed the arch of his black brow, touched his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, his lips. He remained motionless under her touches and Akane silently thanked the Sweet Mother for it. He would never find out how very much in love she was with him because she would never tell and as long as he remained asleep, she could worship him in secret like this.

Akane hated how he had thrown down her defences. How he had opened her heart and claimed his place in there as well. That she was even capable of feeling love after all she had been through was a miracle. She feared that despite how fond he was of her in return, he would never love her back as much. She would never have him as her mate. He wouldn't even take her to his bed. That privilege was reserved for his fuckhole alone.

Her Prince had refused to take her there and brought her back to her own futon where he had quickly silenced her furious mutiny by coaxing her into couplingwith him again, even if her body was thoroughly beaten from their training. It had worked too. She had accepted his insult without objections because he had been so gentle and good to her that it made her forget everything else. It raised its ugly head again now, her indignation. This night of all nights, the night that he got her with child, he denied her the honour of sharing his bed, declaring it the sole property of his main woman.

The thought of his main woman alone impelled her to rub cheeks and forehead with him, no matter how thoroughly he was already covered in her scent. She nosed his face and neck as long and hard as she dared without risking waking him up.

"I hate you." she whispered at the sleeping Prince before lying back down and surrendering to whatever hellish spell he had put on her. She heard his soft laugh, felt it rumble in his throat where she had hidden her face. She didn't bother being surprised. Of course he was awake. How else would he be able to enjoy how he had chained her to him hand an foot.

Akane was shaken by a sudden surge of chills in her aching body, followed closely by a wave of heat. The whelp had come into existence and her body was already working very hard to facilitate its growth within her. Her lower back hurt, her skin felt sore and her head was filled with shrouds of mist as fever relentlessly started to take hold. She recognised this from her first pregnancy. Her body was altering fast to adjust itself in preparation of their whelp's coming into this world. She could practically hear her pelvis snapping as it started the three moons of parting to allow the whelp passage. A faint energy could be detected in between their pressed together bodies, inside her whomb, nearly indiscernible, yet already radiating life.

She wanted this. She had wanted it from the moment her Prince said he wanted it. It didn't weird her out. Not at all. She simply couldn't get herself to show him how much it made her hurt, how it made her think back on the boys she had lost. It was painful, that was true, yet she felt that this could also help her heal some of the hurt, make her look to motherhood with joy in stead of staring into that gaping hole in her, the abyss that was her bereavement.

A cool hand came to her boiling forehead to tenderly brush away the sheen of sweat. Akane wanted to tell him once more that she hated him. Somehow the words stuck in her throat. All she was capable of was allowing him to hold her more soothingly and caress her back. He did so without haste, his fingers gently meandering her aching skin.

"You are going to make me very proud." Vegeta spoke, seeming certain of the fact. His voice was extremely deep with sleep.

The heavy tremors rippling through her body couldn't wholy be blamed on her rising fever. It was too fucking hot being in his arms like this. She could feel him come awake as well. His erection came on him so swiftly that he slapped her against the arse with it.

They both snickered.

"And you talk about my temper. You should put a leash on that." Akane joked.

Vegeta laughed. "I should put you on that."

"I am too sore." Akane grunted and clawed her way off of him, slipping onto the cool covers aside him. The futon was too bleeding cold. Another violent shiver impelled her to seek the warmth of his body again and she crawled back atop him, drawing her legs up at his sides and resting her hot forehead in his neck with a miserable sigh. She paid no heed to his standing pride getting caught in between their bodies. She honestly couldn't handle his need right now. He probably agreed because he made no move either.

"I don't think I made this any easier on you with the trashing I gave you today." Vegeta said, actually sounding compassionate.

Akane felt the need to say something, anything to convince him that she didn't need his sympathy. "I am just fine." she spat, though she felt far from fine.

No worries, she berated herself. She could do this. She had borne two whelps in one go when she was barely a woman grown. Carrying one now posed no challenge to her, no matter how much of a beating Vegeta had given her beforehand and no matter the sorrowful link to her past.

"Of course you are."

Akane moved up to look down in his calm face. His eyes were depthless pools of darkness. Why did he have to be so fucking handsome?

"It's just a fever."

Vegeta brushed the damp hair out of her face. "Drop the fucking act was it, right?" He snickered at her sour face. "It wouldn't harm you to listen to your own advice."

Akane wanted to pound his too handsome face in, tear into him for putting her at ease and making her laugh and making her love him so much that she felt the urge to weep.

"Are you comparing this to the pathetic state you were in after the tournament? Because this is not that. Nothing like that at all." she hissed aggressively.

Vegeta took her in with a very lazy smirk, casually rubbing a hand through his tall flame of black hair as he stretched his mighty body beneath her. This was without a doubt the sexiest she had ever witnessed him and it riled her up even more.

"You can keep the fucking sympathy too. I am no weakling."

"I really hope your are going to be this pleasant all through your pregnancy." Vegeta joked.

"Stop getting on my tits." Akane spat.

"Stop making it so easy for me." Vegeta countered as his hand returned to her face. He fondly tugged her hair behind her ear. "Now shut that foul little mouth and go back to sleep. You need to heal."

Akane showed him her teeth, but obeyed and hid her face in his neck again. The rythmn of his even breathing soon lulled her to sleep.