Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Taste of Heat ❯ Truce ( Chapter 14 )

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A Taste of Heat (Chikara)

By Trynia Merin

This chapter contains LEMON! Don't read if you're underage!

Truce

***

Within the shower, Bulma cursed herself. Vegeta's hands glided all over her wet flesh, pinching her like fruit being evaluated for purchase. Against her chest vibrated his purring arousal, merging into her body with its frequency that eclipsed all other sounds. Overtop the white noise of the rushing shower water and her grunts she felt her whole reality narrow to the immediate passage of second by second.

"Why," she sobbed, burying her face into his shoulder. Vegeta slid his fingers down a marble white thigh, hoisting it to wrap around his muscular hip.

"Why what?" he cooed, biting her sensitive ear and sucking the lobe between his lips.

"You treat me like shit, and I'm letting you do this to me! Damn you..."

"You have no complaints and are not screaming for assistance, I observe," Vegeta breathed in her ear.

"I'm not a fucking WEAKNESS, asshole, that's what!" she snarled. "I REFUSE to stand here and let you insinuate I am..."

"Humph, if YOU want to die in two years because you fucked up my chance to train..." Vegeta mumbled, stopping his ministrations.

"If it wasn't for ME and my so called worthless family you'd be SOL and up shits creek without a paddle, buddy," Bulma snarled, biting down hard on his ear, sure she drew blood. Angrily she raked her nails over the skin of his back to make the point that she wasn't as helpless.

"You don't comprehend what I mean, idiot,' Vegeta shook his head. "What I mean is that if the nature of our relationship is revealed to our enemies, then they'll stop at nothing to use you to get to me... you're a tactical weakness. I'm a warrior, I ALWAYS think in terms of strengths and weaknesses, baka!"

"Then how about turning your WEAKNESSES into strengths, huh?" Bulma snorted, staring down her nose at him with the same snobby air as he often did. "I DARE you to make THAT paradigm shift. I'm Bulma Briefs, not 'baka onna', 'wench' or slave. And you'd do WELL to remember I'm one of the richest on this third rock from the sun, AND I'm the mother of YOUR child... so bite me!"

"I intend to do the latter," Vegeta snickered, letting a bit of grin show through his smirk. "You'd positively as arrogant, shrewish and annoying you'd do well to remember that I'm the only male on this planet who'd consent to mating with you. And didn't I TELL you that you're stuck with me forever whether you or I like it or not?"

"Don't fucking remind me, you smelly ape," she snorted. "I don't know if I want to kick your ass, or kiss you..."

"You can attempt BOTH, but I am the stronger of us..."

"Shut the hell up and fuck me if you're going to do it! You say I talk too much, your Royal Whyness!" Bulma snorted, grabbing his face and cutting him off with a hard kiss for a change.

"Infinitely preferable to your submissive self before I left," Vegeta snickered, after a mind-numbing kiss. "I like you like this, Bulma..."

"You're always fucking with my head," she mumbled. "Is it some screwed up Saiyan custom to get pissed off before you screw?"

"Took you THAT long to figure it out, genius?" Vegeta hiked a brow.

"I'm so gonna KILL you for that," she gritted her teeth.

"As if you possessed the potential to do THAT," he sniffed, giving her a bored look of a cultured aristocrat.

"Who's got who NOW?" she snickered, grabbing his cock and rubbing her hand over it.

"I've got excellent control over my body, you can't get me by the balls like those other losers you might have encountered before," he chuffed, leaning down and nipping at her neck. Grasping her other thigh he slammed her back into the wall. Still he let her continue to stroke and squeeze his cock to a proud erectile state.

"Whatever," Bulma casually tossed back. Rubbing her groove over his tip again, she pushed against his chest with the flats of her palm, then removed her hands from his cock.

Vegeta stabbed her deeply, grunting at his entrance into her dewy wet core. Her head and back slammed up against the tile with each stab. Grunting, he pistoned in and out of her. Bulma gritted her teeth, stifling her cries as she circled her hips and squeezed down to catch his attention. She bit every fold of skin she could reach and raked great furrows along his sculpted shoulders with manicured nails. Trailing down his back to his marvelous ass she squeezed it hard, feeling the texture like ripe oranges. With each bite and scratch Vegeta grew ever more aggressive, opening the channel of his blue ki between them.

"You're… a sex junkie!" she gritted her teeth. Eyes as blue as a cloudless summer day darkened to ultramarine of a dusky sky post sunset.

Bottomless midnight pools of black opened to regard her directly without reflection. Vegeta stopped thrusting. He grated, "You're a ki junkie, so what?"

"You're my weakness," she panted into his face, pockmarked with her bloody bites. "Ooh…. Ah…."

"Now you comprehend my… position," grunted Vegeta.

"Yes," Bulma swallowed hard. "And I swear I'll die before I tell anyone else… you'll probably kill me. I can tell you're thinking that I'll use this to dominate you. But I'm not that kind of a woman…"

"Aren't you? As much as you're physically weak, your mind is your greatest weapon. And I swear if you repeat that to your loser friends…"

"You'll have to kill me," she nodded, panting deeply. "Vegeta, I don't want some pussy assed male I can just boss around. But I don't want you to think you can just use me and throw me away like some damn tissue…"

"Then… we will call a truce," Vegeta said. "Don't interrupt my training for your stupid sentimental bullshit, and I'll be true to my vow. You'll be protected, pleasured, and my son… our son will be trained when he's old enough… I won't have him end up like Kakkarot's brat…"

"Agreed. You can go train or whatever, but you'd BETTER come back once in a while and have sex with me so I don't forget who you are… and you be a father to this baby…"

"I'm a Prince. I keep my word, Bulma," he snorted. His tip bashed her cervix, blue power coursing along every vein. "But I will not be cajoled!"

"I won't either," she huffed. "Ohhh…."

"Then, we're agreed?" he asked.

"To ooh, disagree," she snorted. "And we can both scream and yell at each other to our hearts intent, but this is…"

"Forever," Vegeta nodded. He slammed into her three more times, rocking her entire body. Bulma's scream echoed in the shower to split his eardrums so he muffled it with a kiss. Through their bones the cries reverberated.

Vegeta leaned heavily against her, milky ejaculate coating and dribbling down her thighs. He let her twitch spasmodically with the residual cracklings of arcing blue light. Then after a long time he lowered her to sit on the edge of the spa shower. Next to her he took his place. Silently he helped her clean up before they both emerged from the shower.

***

Neither broke the silence of the next hour. Vegeta flared both her and himself off with his blue ki, except for Bulma's permed hair. They helped one another on with the terrycloth robes hanging on the peg behind the door. Vegeta's was royal blue, and hers had the purple stars speckling it. She suppressed a giggle to see that he was wearing the latter, and she the former.

"Food, now," he grunted.

"Neanderthal. This me Tarzan you Jane shit has got to stop," she huffed, twisting a towel between her hands.

Vegeta cocked his head to smirk. Something zinged out and cracked against his cloth-covered ass, causing him to hiss and jump. "What the fuck?"

"Gotcha," Bulma snickered. A wicked gleam twinkled in her eyes.

"Two can play at THAT game, wench," Vegeta snarled playfully. Snatching her up he exited the bathroom.

Bulma pounded on his back, kicking and screaming. He winced at the piercing noise of her cries, then levitated off the floor. Through the house they streaked, towards the kitchen. He narrowly avoided hitting doors and walls, silencing Bulma's tirade into a sick moan.

"Ohhh, I'm gonna puke," she groaned.

He came to an abrupt halt, just inside the kitchen. Bulma clung to him shakily. Vegeta plunked her down in front of the stove, but she turned and promptly hurled the contents of her stomach onto his bathrobe.

"Kuso, that was low," he grumbled, shedding the garment and throwing it into the sink with disgust. He propped her up in a chair, wetting a dishrag to help her mop the puke off her face.

"Then you should think TWICE about dragging me around, ne?" she shakily smiled at him.

"Touché," Vegeta rolled his eyes dramatically. "Stupid humans. Have such WEAK stomachs…"

"There's frozen waffles in the freezer," Bulma pointed with one finger.

"Well, aren't you going to GET them?" he asked.

"Hey, your Majesty, I wasn't the one who made ME sick, so don't bitch! If you want to eat, you wait till I recover. Fix them yourself!" she snapped. Still her pallid skin showed Vegeta he had shaken her up far more than he had realized.

"As usual I have to take care of your useless weakling ass," Vegeta mumbled, opening the door to the freezer. He tossed several dozen boxes of eggos onto the kitchen table. Then he plunked a frying pan onto the stove.

"Okay, genius, you COULD use a toaster," Bulma snickered. She watched his hands fumbling to tear open the boxes, making a mess of the cartons.

"Shut the hell up," Vegeta snarled back, grabbing the deluxe eight-slot toaster and plunking it down on the table. He ran the cord into the outlet, then shoved frozen waffles into each slot. Bulma watched with amusement. Stopping for a moment he shoved a glass of water into her hands.

"Thanks," she said, sipping it slowly.

"Whatever," Vegeta mumbled, hunting for plates. He managed to line ten of them up, then turned to the fridge again to break out two cartons of grade A eggs. One after the other he cracked them to fry himself an industrial sized omelet.

"You see, it isn't THAT hard, is it?"

"It'd probably not taste like shit this time," Vegeta mumbled.

"Don’t' forget the eggs," she giggled, smelling the smoke rising from the sizzling popping mess.

"Shimatta!" Vegeta barked, jumping back and waving his hand.

"And you say I'm the baka," Bulma groaned. She leapt up to grab the fire extinguisher. Seconds later a hiss of white CO2 covered his breakfast, ruining it.

"Kusotarre," he grumbled.

"Move over. I may be a stupid earthling but I can make eggs," Bulma stuck her tongue out at him.

"Whatever," Vegeta glowered.

***

He turned around, grabbing the coffeepot and hunting for the tin. Fortunately it wasn't too difficult to fill the basket and follow the relevant directions on the side of the can. Meanwhile, Bulma cleaned up the mess he'd made, and hastily fried up another dozen eggs into a mess of scrambled go. She added bamboo shoots, parsley, and diced tomatoes to it.

"Now who's the genius? You know it doesn't take a rocket scientist to cook breakfast," she elbowed him, loading his plates with eggos and omelet.

"It takes a genius to screw up breakfast, you mean," Vegeta answered. "Your idiot mother is the best cook in this establishment. So it's natural to assume cooking and stupidity…"

"Finish that sentence and you'll be eating cold cuts for a month!" Bulma threatened.

"Grrr," Vegeta snarled, plunking his plate down. Bulma smirked in trump, then filled two mugs with steamy freshly brewed coffee. Both settled down to eat breakfast in relative silence. As she dumped ketchup and Tabasco sauce on her eggs, she had to admit something. Vegeta neatly packed away his third plate of breakfast, staring at her occasionally with that smoldering annoyed gaze.

Thinly veiled irritation, it concealed his true passion. Bulma giggled, realizing that she could never enjoy breakfast with Yamucha like this. Always he would babble about some stupid baseball story or exploit he and Puar had gotten into. Thankfully Vegeta only spoke if he had something useful to say.

"I guess this could work," she muttered.

"What was that?" he mumbled, snatching more food from the counter.

"Nothing, just eat your food, your Highness," Bulma shot back. Swirling coffee in her cup, she felt a strange fondness creep over her.

"What are you staring at?" Vegeta asked.

"Duh? You?" she asked.

"Naturally, you can't take your eyes off perfection," he smugly quipped.

"Give me a break. Who else would put up with your princely arrogant ass?" Bulma retorted.

"Humph," he mumbled, returning to eating his breakfast. "Then stop babbling and let me eat in peace…"

"As you wish, your MAJESTY," she grunted, pushing herself away from the table and throwing her dish into the sink with a dramatic clatter.

Vegeta heaved in a sigh, shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. He didn't see Bulma hiding her giggle behind her slim hand while she returned to sit opposite him again. Between her hands she clutched her coffee, enjoying the warmth seeping into it. Paper rustled while she picked up the paper to hide Vegeta's view of her face. Conveniently they ignored one another while finishing breakfast in peace. It was quite domestic, but neither would admit it in a million years!

***