Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Bardock's Sons ❯ Lemony reunion ( Chapter 33 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This work of fan fiction is meant to entertain and I make no money from it.

Finally the long awaited VxB reunion! Thanks for reading so patiently!

*********

Persia had insisted on bathing Bulma, and had laid out clothes for her to change into. What astonished Bulma were the amount of armor there, and the absence of any frilly garments that suggested her former status. Still not questioning it, she frantically waited for new of Yamcha.

Blinding flashes of light erupted along the length of the ship as Turles lieutenants attacked. Within a few hours, they had retrieved all the Idsarjin captives and transferred them to the holding areas on the lower decks. From behind her porthole, Bulma watched the crackling ship slowly disintegrating into atoms. Then only empty space existed after the fading plumes of energy.

“It was more then they deserved,” she mumbled. “But still…”

“Milady you should sit and eat something,” Interrupted a voice. She spun around to see Tomic standing in her blue gleaming armor, the white cape fluttering over her shoulders.

“Tomic, are they all right? Lyssra, Jennlynn, and Yamcha?” she asked.

“Let's sit down, there is much to say before we greet the Prince's party,” Tomic said.

“Fine, but I want to see Yamcha,” insisted Bulma. The bodysuit and black armored breastplate suited her, the single strap crossing over her back. Under it, the blue shirt was sleeveless, and the top only came to her belly, leaving her navel bare as before. Blue shorts ended just above the knee, while she wore tall black boots and gloves.

A snap of the fingers brought Persia and a male slave that Bulma had not recognized except when he tended Tomic at banquets. Realizing she wouldn't get further unless she played along Bulma flopped down on a nearby sofa. Tomic sat opposite her, flipping the white cape over her back as she did so.

“Is Yamcha okay?” asked Bulma, snatching a drink from Persia's tray. Tomic selected a beverage for herself.

“Your servant Trunks is speaking to him now. He is most angry and refuses to speak. We've had to confine him to quarters. But I see that the garments suit you well, Milady… if you would please eat you'd be in better spirits to speak to his majesty.”

“Those who are injured are in regeneration tanks. The ones who aren't critical are being tended to,” said Tomic. “We're still en route to Idsarsei, but the Prince's team has just intercepted us…”

“What about Raditz… and Bardock… were they badly hurt?”

“I heard that my mate and Father are both recuperating in regeneration tanks as well. I'll be seeing them when I return to Idsarsei. But you milady, are you not pleased to return to the Prince?” Tomic blinked at her.

“Yamcha first,” said Bulma stubbornly. She bit hard into a piece of fruit, relishing its stinging sweetness on her dry throat.

“I cannot allow that, Milady. The Prince insists on seeing you when he is done with his audience with my commander,” said Tomic, swallowing more of her beverage from the jeweled horn it occupied.

“And Yamcha won't hurt you…”

“I realize he's your friend. To you he is a servant and may be allowed to serve you. But I warn you, the Prince will not wish to share you if he's here,” said Tomic.

“What about the Prince's other concubines?” Bulma sniffed. She glanced over at the slaves wandered about, pouring more into their goblets as they hovered like flies. Bulma waved away one who placed their hands on her shoulders.

Just then, Tomic leapt up from her chair, to kneel customarily. Bulma saw the other slaves dropping to kowtow and prostrate themselves even lower when someone else entered the chamber. Rather several others entered. Bulma shivered to see Nappa striding in first, followed by someone she had feared seeing again, and yet desperately ached for. The red cape swirled regally around his shoulders as his Majesty marched into the chamber. Stepping to the side Nappa stood proudly, his armor battered yet polished while Vegeta strode over to where Bulma sat in shock.

“Your majesty, she is here…” Tomic began. Bulma swallowed hard, her face-flushed beet red and unable to look him in the eyes. Sliding down from her chair, she dropped to her knees and curled into a little ball.

“Enough. Leave us be,” Vegeta snapped his gloved fingers. Leaping up the slaves clustered around, and Bulma lifted her head shyly.

“Sire?” Nappa asked.

“Amuse yourself Nappa. I wish to be alone,” the Prince commanded, voice smooth and sending shivers along Bulma's spine. Remembering the harsh reprimands, she again hid her face, unsure of what he'd say or expect of her. From the expression, he carefully maintained it was impossible to tell how he was feeling.

Tomic rose at the touch of a boot to her shoulder and then exited. Nappa grunted, and then the sound of his footsteps thumped into the distance. Bulma felt the shadow of the Prince fall on her, and slowly lifted her head to look up at him. As she straightened up to rise, she felt his gloved hand grasp her shoulder, then slip around to lift her chin up and force it upwards.

“Vegeta… I'm sorry…” she got out. “What I said…”

“What sort of greeting is that for your prince when he's arrived after a hard mission,” Vegeta reprimanded her. However, his eyes twinkled with amusement accompanying a smirk rather than anger.

“I… what?” Bulma got out. His hands then slid down to grasp her arm and pull her up. Still she averted her gaze, worried about any further recriminations.

“You are undamaged. I suppose I'm not going to have to kill those idiots for letting you be captured. I might simply teach them a slow lesson through torture,” he grunted.

“I'm surprised you're not pissed off at me,” Bulma blinked. “Considering what I said. So out with it, you playing games with me?”

“Games, what games?” he glanced back at her with a slight look of confusion. “I play NO games save those that I mandate! Is this any attitude to have in my presence?”

“You said I'd regret it!” Bulma shot back, letting anger fire any courage. Although her gut told her he was in a good mood, the rest of her feared what would happen next.

“Regret what? What are you babbling about idiot?” he reprimanded her.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Bulma responded. “Don't mess with me! I apologized and you blew it off, and now you're pretending like you weren't pissed at me the last time we…”

Frowning Vegeta shook his head, and then grasped her chin firmly. “Your apology was for WHAT exactly?”

“For pushing you away that night when we… you know? You said I'd regret rejecting you. Therefore, I'm saying I'm sorry I did that! ” Bulma admitted. “So are you going to accept my apology or not?”

“I am pleased that you came to your senses Bulma. Although your idiotic replies grate on my ears, your admittance of your wrongdoing shows you have some intelligence after all,” he mildly snickered.

“Hey now look here you…” she glared at him, and then snapped her mouth shut.

“You were saying?” he blinked at her, his hand sliding along her jaw.

“What about concubines?” she stammered. “Jennlynn and Naiya…”

“What of them? Are you a total moron? Did I not say I desire none but you,” Vegeta snorted angrily.

“Well excuse me for not getting things!” Bulma retorted, unable to keep her body from burning from his proximity. “All these people calling me Milady! I was barely a servant and an underling! What changed that?”

“Don't you know why? You're the Prince's mate, stupid!” Vegeta insisted. Bulma's heart pounded and she felt the blood rushing hotly through her body. It tingled through her face and she was sure she was blushing all over.

“Mate?” Bulma stammered, feeling faint. “But…”

“Did I not mark you when we were together? Those were our orders…” Vegeta growled in disbelief.

“But… you didn't bite me!” Bulma protested, hugging herself. The cup lay where it had dropped until Persia bent down to pick it up and put it on a tray.

“You don't know, do you? I suppose I must explain it to your feeble human brain,” Vegeta inquired, face dark with concern.

“Know what? Sure I slept with you on Idsarsei and you took my virginity okay!” she blurted out. “But then you said that he wanted nothing more to do with me!”

“Well, I had hoped that you'd see the error of your ways,” Vegeta answered. “And since the first words out of your mouth were `I'm sorry' I figured you were. Are you taking back what you said?”

“Yes… I mean no… I mean…”

“What do you mean, Bulma? Are you going to reject me again?” Vegeta growled, his voice rumbling low. His eyes gleamed terribly and Bulma felt her knees knocking together.

“You jerk I said I was sorry and I mean it! If your stupid monkey brain can't get it then screw you!” Bulma hotly yelled back. Her eyes sparked like blue fire, and she pounded on the front of his armor with her fist.

His gloved hand caught hers and squeezed it gently. Vegeta's growl suddenly morphed into a low purr. Bulma's shouts turned into moans at the feel of his hands sliding under her armor and sensually over her spandex clad body. Into her ear he whispered, “You're carrying my brat, Bulma. That means that you're mine…”

“Yours… but I…” Bulma stammered. She leaned heavily against Vegeta, and buried her face in his shoulder. Her arms flung around him she squeezed him tightly. Tension relaxed as his hard armored body pressed to hers, her arms sliding around his neck automatically. Pleased she was finally seeing the way of things the Saiyan Prince guided her over to the nearest of the couches. Bulma felt herself urged to sit down, shortly joined by the Prince. Their hips touched and his arms tugged her forwards again.

“Since you carry the male heir to Vegetasei and if you survive its birth you will become Princess and mate,” he continued, his voice sending shivers all over her body. White gloved hands rubbed her back while she continued to tremble against him deliciously.

“Mate? I'm not some animal!” Bulma stammered out, pulling back from him.

“Blood must have been exchanged… do you not remember?” Vegeta purred, his nose brushing against hers. Forgotten the slaves moved off to leave them alone. On the table near them Persia and her fellow servants set the trays of fruit and meat along with flagons of the Prince's favorite beverage.

“I bit YOU though! You said if a male bites a female!!” Bulma insisted. “You didn't taste MY blood I tasted yours!”

“That means you accepted my offer freely. If a female tastes her lover's blood, it means she has consented to bear his offspring. Especially the Elite,” Vegeta seriously reminded her.

“I thought I was pregnant, but it was almost as if I sensed it,” Bulma murmured, hand rubbing over her belly. It was but one time, yet it was enough. She suddenly thought of Chichi back on earth, and the news that the one named Trunks brought of Goku's son. Gohan.

“Then you do understand at last. Took you damn long enough, woman,” he murmured. Bulma growled under her breath at his use of that name.

“Stupid jerk!” she snorted back.

“Idiotic fool human,” he retorted, fingering the straps of her armor. Sliding his gloved fingers underneath he unfastened them, and tugged the breastplate up and off. Bulma grabbed the sides of his cape and yanked on it, dragging him forward.

Intrigued he merely snickered at her, and then pushed her down so she landed on the couch. His heavy armored body pressed down from above, straddling her hips without crushing her. Under him she groaned, feeling the soft lick of his hot tongue drown her bared neck. Closing her eyes she reached up and snared her fingers in his soft bristly hair. Shoving up her shirt he nestled his face between her breasts and tugged the halter aside that held them there. Bulma's fingers unfastened the cape by now and it whispered to the floor. Forgetting everything but the intense sensations of his hot breath bathing her body, she allowed herself to truly let go.

Gloved hands pulled at her garments and she lifted her hips to allow him to pull her pants down. Then his hot breath fanned her bared skin, sending fire all over her body. She was burning supernova hot and Vegeta wasn't even unclothed yet. Licking down her belly he then found his target and she screamed, arching her back as her hips rose. Sliding hands under her shapely backside he tugged her forwards. Bulma's mind spun away with the intense pleasure he wrung from her desire.

Minutes late she panted up at his smirking face, as he licked his lips. “Not… fair…” she panted.

“What was that?” he asked softly.

“You and that damn armor! It's not fair!” she pounded playfully on it. Moving off her he sat to the side. As Bulma spun and let her feet touch the floor she then felt the Prince lift her legs up into his lap. She shifted, and then straddled him so her hottest parts rubbed against his deliciously. He suppressed the moan from her squirming yet again, evoking the hardening of his own desires now through spandex.

Breasts pressing to his hard armor she forcefully covered his lips in a kiss. He allowed her sweeping tongue access, relishing the taste of her breath on his palate. Hungrily she devoured his kiss, tugging fistfuls of his hair while her other hand slid between his armor and spandex to rub and squeezed. Growling yet again he pulled her hand to the bottom of his armor and jerked it upwards. Pouting that forced her to break their kiss. Together they tugged his ornate breastplate up and off, letting it thump next to Bulma's. Then she jerked his shirt up, causing him to snicker at her initiative.

Now her fingers caressed smooth muscle crisscrossed with scars. Bulma leaned down and backed up until she straddled his knees. Softly she kissed a path down the side of his neck and licked his collarbone before progressing to the lateral scars. It was Vegeta's turn to arch his neck and let his head roll back against the sofa back in bliss. Her light touch drove him mad as she licked, nibbled, and teased at bronze flesh. Fingernails dug into his back and she then scooted up again to rock over him with that mischievous look he treasured so much.

Slowly he stood, locking her legs around his waist. Bulma yelped with surprise as Vegeta boosted her up into his arms and effortlessly strode into the bedchamber. Dropping her onto the vast silk and fur covers he then pounced on her so they flipped over. In frenzy she helped him tear the rest of his garments off so one boot slammed against the wall and the other hit the door with a thud. Blue spandex and undergarments shredded and flew against the headboard while Vegeta's nose brushed against the column of her neck.

Wrappi8ng her legs around his waist again she felt the teasing hardness of his flesh. He smirked superiorly at the sight of her writhing in ecstasy under him, and peeled both gloves off before cupping her breasts. Soft hands teased and squeezed, causing another round of cries from her. Then she frantically reached between them to tease him equally to the brink of madness. All too soon he pushed her down, and she lay back, opening her legs and her heart to him.

Trust passed between them, frightening her. Then their bodies merged with full awareness. Bulma cried out, and felt him pull her onto his knees. He remained still for a moment, bonding her body to his so he felt the straddle of her legs over his muscled thighs and the sensation of her quivering body and soft whimpers at his invasion. She wriggled her hips, to reassure him that she was pleased, stretched and containing him so thoroughly.

Energy surged around him, and she let it permeate her body, strengthening it. Then Vegeta moved and the galaxy with him. Spun out of orbit and time she held tightly and paced herself to dance with him. Until the stars exploded and dragged her into a black hole of bliss she could not escape. Beneath him she panted and sniffled, gasping at the tingling azure wonder that buzzed along every nerve ending. Rolling so they faced one another, Vegeta rested his forehead to hers, pulling her back to him. She had no strength to untangle and simply rested her head on his chest. Turning on his back he bound her safely in his arms, and she nuzzled under his chin. Satisfied and safe she at last slept in peace with the Prince.