Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ How to Make Love to a Saiyan ❯ Wake Up ( Chapter 6 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Disclaimer: DBZ isn't legally mine. If you sue me Vegeta will Gallic gun you and look sexy while doing so.
Author note: Please be warned there might be just a tad of lime? somewhere in this chapter. It's Vegeta and Bulma, what can I say…
How to Make Love to a Saiyan
Step 7 - Wake Up
“The issue is control.”
There was a soothing quality to the affable tone in the older woman's voice as she spoke to the wide-eyed fifteen year old. Her words fell on the classroom like a warm blanket, succeeding in pulling everyone's attention together as if she had a supernatural ability to keep them quiet and unmoving by the means of her speech alone. Quite a feat for someone who looked as easy-going and harmless as every other regular high school science teacher.
It was a testament to her natural ability to command a class full of the children of stars and dignitaries, which undoubtedly equated egos and attitude. But they now sat nearly sedate, drawn into her conversation with one Bulma Briefs, a young woman as brazen as she was fascinating. Speaking to her always stirred the science junkie within Mrs. Pen, and her eyes sparkled, not just because she was the daughter of the renowned erudite, Dr. Trunks Briefs, but because she seemed to have inherited every bit as much brainpower.
“Are you sure you are ready to recreate a Podkletnov Force Beam? Imparting the high-voltage electrical discharge near the superconductors is quite an impossible task if you plan on going above 23â†•10âˆ’4 Joules of mechanical energy.”
The teen's round blue eyes flashed with excitement as she leaned closer. “I already tried it at home, employing a higher discharge by using a different frequency proton radiation. I was able to hit the pendulum behind brick walls of a separate building located 300 meters away.”
Mrs. Pen's mouth sagged and she nearly lost the ability to muster a response. She then found her voice, a mere whisper of awe in the middle of the silence. “Light speed propulsion engineering…”
“Space travel.” Bulma leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms and smiling in self-satisfaction. “It obviously still needs to be properly applied to the actual schematics of a space craft, but the basic concept stands as proven under scientific experimentation.”
There wasn't a single sound in the room for what seemed like an interminable gap of time. Even Hania, the slender blonde with the microscopic uniform skirts that constantly defied the rules of such a solemn institution as Tealton seemed hung on Bulma's mind-boggling words. And things remained so until Ryu's shrill mocking laughter pierced through the moment like a dagger.
“Bulma-chan keeps snooping around her father's lab and stealing his crazy research papers. She'll soon start ranting about how she'll be the first woman to travel across the galaxy and meet little green aliens, antennae and all.” His cackle echoed throughout the room, accompanied by the booming laughter of the rest of her classmates. The sound was so loud and hysterical the Capsule Corporation heiress shot out of her seat, nearly tumbling it over in her haste.
“This is my own research you asshole! Not everyone's a stupid lazy git as you are.”
“Bulma Briefs!” Mrs. Pen spoke with enough severity to cool her murderous thoughts at once. She had been about to launch herself at the snickering boy who had often bullied her with as much cruelty as his tyrant father employed in the Governor halls.
The general ridicule died down to a few giggles but Bulma still glared at the offender with blue glacier eyes, noting how he mouthed the word `nerd' before turning around and hi-fiving his loyal entourage.
The strident sound of the bell barely registered, but she felt her feet move of their own volition, carrying her along the ample corridors of the ornate building. It was a highly prestigious and respectable private school, the most expensive in West Capital, set in the outskirts of town among the moss and vines that trailed up the brick walls. It was full of history and sobriety, supposed to be home to the best Chikyuu had to offer in terms of the leaders that were next in line to run the world.
And she'd never felt more bored and suffocated.
She did have a couple of friends who didn't let themselves be swayed by their good looks and money. They actually had brains and a sense of self that went beyond clothes and partying, but it was very little to compensate for having to deal with curricula that always fell short in her eyes. It surely wasn't enough to make her want to deal with walking the limbo of high school hierarchies either, not really fitting the nerd profile, not quite there with the bimbos.
And days went by, extinguishing her flame of life little by little as if the world had shriveled down to mindless sleepwalking. Nothing to look forward to, no joy or adventure, no going beyond the confines.
She stood on the stone pathway looking at Ryu's magnificent profile as he spoke to Hania and the rest. He had them wrapped around his finger, looming the threads that held them enraptured in his every word. Where did truth to his power lay? Was it the money? Was it the looks? The way his green eyes turned to emerald when they caught the light… or the way his hair fell over his forehead in an effort to play with his eyelashes? And his ruthlessness towards her, the fact he ignored her beauty like the mirror could not, where did that come from? Was being smart the ultimate curse to her existence? Was being empty between the ears, like Hania, the one key to life and love and…
“Mrs. Pen?” She ceased to ruminate, turning around to look at her teacher's big owlish expression.
The older woman run to catch up with her, heels echoing across the halls. “Bulma… thank God you didn't leave just yet. I just wanted to say…” She stopped before her, regaining her breath and looking at her through kind eyes. “…I wanted to say I believe your science experiment is nothing but formidable, and that I truly have faith in your ability to succeed.”
Bulma's expression was unnervingly lackluster as she glanced about to see her classmates entertained in a game involving fireworks and wedgies.
Her teacher regarded her knowingly, feeling the sudden loss of the one girl who had been her favorite student to date. “You're not coming back are you?”
Bulma didn't answer, limited herself to issuing a sly smile. It at least offered a glimpse of the living breathing spirit that lay buried underneath.
“Just remember this… the issue is control… did you compensate for the voltage leak appropriately while doing the experiment? I know you like to push the limits. You've got more balls than my entire staff at the MIT lab, but be careful what you touch, may it not burn your hand in the process.”
She placed one palm on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She then smiled once more, a wide, proud motherly smile before leaving her alone, standing in the frosty breeze of early winter.
Bulma cradled her hand, taking in the scar on her right hand. She lifted her face to the wind and felt the chill of the wind burn her cheeks.
The Japanese skylark warbled distantly. It sang the song of rice fields and grasslands were the sun shone warm and the breeze ran free. Its chirping grew more audible little by little, gently pushing away the shadowy nightmares of things past.
She crinkled her nose, moaning deep in her throat almost by inertia, so much she'd been doing so throughout the night. And she kissed the skin over which she lay. A reflex… the last thing she remembered doing before falling prey to slumber and the first thing her body could think of doing as it wakened.
Had she been dreaming of him again? She could almost feel his smooth velvety skin as she touched and pressed her lips to his chiseled abs. Could almost feel his soothing warmth enveloping her, as if she lay cradled between thickly muscled thighs. And his big… she smiled, sighing deeply, eyes still closed half asleep… his big manhood felt great pressed against the soft skin of her stomach.
What lively dreams had she gotten used to having lately… and why not indulge in the product of her wonderful imagination? Why not savor that deep golden skin with her tongue while the illusion lasted? She smiled against his navel, licking it in delight while her palm slid down a powerful torso that tapered down to a narrow waist. Licked a bit more, before his skin quivered in response.
Bulma's eyes flung open. She reared her head very slowly before gasping and rolling over hastily, legs tangled in a heap of silken sheets. She scrambled back over the slippery surface in a mild state of shock until she fell over the edge, hitting her bottom on the floor. It took her a good ten seconds before reason and memory shook hands again in her upturned mind.
She stared at him agape, only her wide blue eyes appearing behind the bed's horizon. There was a Saiyan in her bed, a very male, naked Saiyan. She clutched the covers to her own nudity, completely mesmerized by the view that lay before her in what was obviously the very real morning after the very real thing she had done last night.
There he was, fast asleep and spread in all his glory, half his body exposed except for a sheet that covered him from the top of his thighs down. It let the indentation between his abdominal muscles and hip bone show. Her eyes became half hooded as she let them roam freely, sliding her feverish pupils over the crevices of his stomach, his pectorals and onto the wide planes of his shoulders. His biceps moved below the tanned caramel of his smooth skin as he tucked an arm behind his head. The other one rested over his taut midsection. Every inch of him exuded raw virility, even in such a lax state and that realization made her tense in recognition. Her skin remembered his fingers…. his hands, she could feel him inside her still. The light bruises she now noticed all over her arms and legs and the tremendous soreness between her thighs were more than enough of a reminder of the power and vitality encased within the compact perfection of his form. And oh boy was she going to be walking like a cowboy for the rest of the day…
And what time was it anyway? What day? What month? And by Kami, how had they even made it to her bedroom? She sure as hell didn't remember that. It must have happened sometime towards the break of dawn. She felt as scatterbrained and disheveled as if she'd been swallowed and spit out into a different world. Her fingers touched around the surface of her bedside table until she managed to grab a hold of her Hello Pinkie clock. She refrained from squawking when she saw just how sinfully late in the afternoon it was. Truth of the matter was she didn't remember having slept so sound in what seemed like ages but it was only natural she had fallen nearly comatose after… after that.
Oh God… more and more incredibly fiery thoughts reclaimed her mind, making her cheeks burn. She found herself grinning like a schoolgirl, the lips that were reddened from having seen so much activity widening instinctively. Who cared if he lacked the most basic of social manners if he had that… stamina in bed? Insatiable… tireless, no… that didn't even begin to describe it. It was like melted butterscotch to hungry lips, like heated water to trembling skin. So big and wide and all-encompassing, the word pleasure held a new meaning.
In fact it was almost scary. A weird mixture of lust infused with fear began simmering in the base of her stomach. She could vaguely remember crying out in the middle of the night, asking for more until near the end she'd pleaded for him to stop… stop… stop, drenched in sweat, not because she didn't want him inside, but because she felt she could lose herself and never be found. She'd wanted to make him surrender to her. She'd wanted to make love to him, drink him in, kiss him and toss him under her dainty touch until he cried her name in ecstasy, not the other way around. How had she miscalculated the proportion of who he was? So overwhelming, so dominating and controlling, and Kami, that wasn't even the worse part.
The worse was she'd liked it.
Her entire face burnt as the full force of the night finally hit her. What the hell was that thunderstorm of a man made of? She'd naturally thought she'd be the one on top; it'd always been that way. Never had she lost control and surrendered to someone else, not even in the throes of passion. She'd always hung on firmly to a thread of composure and dignity. But last night… last night she'd lost herself, completely abandoned to what she was sure had to be the most excruciatingly long orgasms in the history of the universe. Come on, you can't blame yourself can you? It's a feat you even survived. Look at that man… Anyone else would be mewling like a possessed kitten in need of heavy petting right about now, but you're not, are you?
She swallowed hard when the very real need to hop on the bed and rub herself against him assaulted her. Oh hell no. She was Bulmmm… she stumbled to her feet, nearly falling on her face as she stepped and tripped on the edge of the sheet.
Dammit. She braced herself on her French vanity, suddenly meeting her grimacing expression on the mirror. And she cringed. Her hair was all mussed and her face was flushed, the entire reflection screaming “ravished”… yelling “fucked”. And wanting more. No… no, no, she needed a second to recompose herself, to gather some manner of a plan together, something perfect to get back at him somehow. This was supposed to be her little experiment, a controlled environment where every factor was accounted for. It wasn't supposed to signify the loss of her wits and pride under sex with such a dominating lover.
The soft sound of him exhaling, issuing a deep… deep guttural moan made her glance back at him in apprehension. Thank Kami he was still asleep, merely shifting in place. Shit, this was one of her recurrent nightmares, of any woman for that matter. The man you have a crush on, an increasingly annoying crush as it was, catching you when your hair isn't fixed, or your make-up in place. He couldn't look at her like this. He'd never seen her fresh from the bed just as she was now. And as if that weren't enough, she was a wreck, inside out.
She gathered the ample folds of the silk sheets as she tiptoed across the room, narrowing her eyes to take in the chaos her room had been left in. It looked like a tornado hat hit it, her luxurious Chinese lamp lying on the floor along with her perfumes, oils, combs, jewelry. She half remembered standing in the middle of the room sliding her back sensuously down his body as he squeezed her every mound. Twirling around, sighing against his lips before sucking on them hungrily. And him pushing her against the dressers, holding her bottom in his hands, raising her legs and…. Yes, that explained the mess.
She maneuvered her way around the objects as quietly as possible until she reached the door that led to the comfortable space of her very girly bathroom. There was nothing right now she needed more than a warm shower to ease her mind and cool her thoughts. She needed to regroup, like a General after losing a battle with herself, working strategy to regain control of the situation and win the damn war. She'd wanted this, God, she'd wanted it so badly. So why was she so confused right now? Why wasn't she celebrating her success? The answer was as clear as the light of day. Because it seemed like sleeping with him didn't serve to quench her thirst, but to only make it worse. Because she had been obsessed but was now perhaps on the verge of turning compulsive. And last night… she had gotten him where she'd wanted him, yet towards the end, she couldn't have been further away from being in charge. She pressed her forehead to the door, cursing under her breath for sleeping with the devil… for playing with fire.
She only needed time, a little time. Yes, she'd just somehow set the record straight; tilt the balance in her favor. Right all the wrongs in the perfect little world that was hers and only hers to command. A semblance of hope began to appease her jarred senses as she twisted the doorknob.
“Where are you going?”
Son of a… His voice was impossibly low, huskier than usual after having just woken up. She felt its rumble in her stomach and nearly trembled under the reckoning of how it'd felt to hear him growl in her ear all through the night.
Bulma turned around, leaning against the door, still holding onto the sheets that now draped down her body majestically.
“Good morning to you too…” She said bitingly.
He looked at her lazily, eyes half lidded and mane tussled. He slowly withdrew his arm from were it'd lay under his head and stretched his torso across the bed to peek at the time. She couldn't help but linger on the way he moved with feline grace to do something as mundane as checking her clock. He leaned back on the plush pillows to scrutinize her from head to toe as she stood there like a deer caught in the headlights.
“You didn't answer my question.”
Bulma felt it, that rush of heat that shoots up and down your legs the moment desire kicks in. It rolled over her again, hitting her mercilessly inside her womb. She couldn't find herself, not when he was looking at her strewn over the bed like that. He was the image of sheer decadence, toned muscle warm from sleep and enveloped in silk. And she now knew what it felt like to melt unto him, the shades of hell and heaven the Prince could paint under the sheets.
“If you must know, I needed to use my own sink. Am I going to require a royal pass now?”
He quirked an eyebrow and smirked drowsily. “Chikyuu women are amusing.”
She felt a vague sense of irritation at his taunt. It was both unsettling and thrilling how he looked at her like his little pleasure doll.
“I suppose that's a no. If you'll excuse me…”
“Insolent, even after last night. You're a rather peculiar female.” He leaned forward, perching his arms over his silk covered knees. “Breaking and taming you seems like quite a challenge to undertake.”
She had begun to turn the knob when she whirled around again fiercely, long blue tendrils brushing against her face.
“I am not your little mare to ride and try to “break” Vegeta.”
He looked at her smugly, narrowing the eyes that were still hazy from such a deep night's sleep. The first one he'd had in… well, forever.
He slid off the bed, pulling the sheets with him to wrap them around his waist. “Of course you're not. Don't be so foolish.”
She frowned deeply, rather dumbfounded at hearing him concede the point. “I am glad we agree on such a pertinent fact.”
There was still something more than a bit disquieting about the way he carried himself. He was cool and composed and very ominous in his body language. He held one of her frilly curtains and peeked out into the front lawn, as if contemplating the panorama for the very first time since he arrived on her home. The faint sunlight of late afternoon glinted in his eyes, his every plane and angle accentuated by the glow of it. She found her weaker half lost in the alien prowess of his body. Why should she feel so distressed over having had such a mind-blowing night of perfect sex with the owner of her wet dreams? It's true he had tossed her like a rag doll and that she had enjoyed being controlled, but hadn't it been completely incredible? In fact, she could say he had enough in him to satiate more than one woman if he really wanted to, and last night his entire focus had been only her. Hadn't that been what she'd been craving for months now?
He turned his powerful gaze on her, an eyebrow twitching slightly. He slowly approached her, and she instinctively clutched the sheets tighter to her chest. Dangerous. It was all she could think of.
He braced a hand beside her head on the wall and inched in to sniff the hollow of her neck profoundly, nuzzling her hair in the process.
“What…” Her eyes widened in confusion as he changed sides, then lowering his head to take in the scent all over her neck and shoulders.
“Vegeta… what on earth are you doing?” She whispered a tone of alarm to her voice. “That wouldn't be considered good manners in Chikyuu you know?”
“Hn” He sniffled her hair a bit more before looking into her eyes, noses nearly touching. “And that is relevant how?”
She brushed her lips against his, feeling the wild flowers of sheer lust bloom inside her fully. “Just know you can't just barge in and do as you wish, my “Lord Prince”. I won't let you.”
“Wrong answer.” He whispered against her lips.
“I already told you, I am not the slave you've regarded me as all this time… what the hell's so funny now?”
The sound of his chuckle was a lot more unsettling than a mordant word would have been. He inhaled her scent fully once more. “I already told you little girl. You're damn right you're no longer a simple slave to my eyes. You've been marked.”
She wrinkled her brow, staring at him with an expression of sheer confusion. “Marked?”
“We coupled last night.”
Of course they had. She could feel the consequences right between the legs. “I think I was there Vegeta.”
“More times than once, many more. Saiya-jin seed imprints its scent very deeply within a woman and that, you should know, is called marking. It normally happens when a male takes possession of a female and makes her his steady bed mate. After shedding his essence inside repeatedly over a short period of time his scent will become so heavy it'd be years before it finally leaves her. It will remain for a very long time, even after letting her go. It's only natural the mark of an elite is even more powerful than that of others. Lower class warriors don't mind taking scented women and were sometimes known to take the spoils of nobility, females who were no longer concubines. But royalty, high class rank men… they take only women who have never been marked or have already lost the scent.”
She parted her lips, eyelids fluttering as if trying to make sense of the riddle that composed Saiyan mating rituals.
“What the hell does that all mean?”
“You're a royal concubine now.” He stated it as if it were a rather pleasant tid bit of information worthy of being announced on the morning news.
“I heard you.” Her eyes were as wide open as possible, looking straight into his charcoal ones. Seconds ticked by, as Bulma's jumbled thoughts strived to rearrange themselves in some manner of an order. He didn't move a single inch, leaning his hand on the wall, looking every bit the cocky bastard he was.
“For fuck's sake woman, what's with you? Didn't you hear what I just said? Do you know who I am?”
Did he think she was some little toy poodle he could lift a leg over and … and… mark? “Damn well I know who you are.” She stated in a quiet little whisper. “You are an arrogant, conceited, self-serving bastard…” And you can go all night long and not tire a bit. She shook her head. That wasn't supposed to sneak into her otherwise perfectly timed retorts. “…and you are very much wrong to believe I am yours to mark.” She poked her finger on his chest angrily.
He rolled his eyes, completely exasperated with her lack of insight. The corner of his mouth lifted to show a glimpse of an ivory incisor. “Wrong answer again woman. Not only am I a crown Prince and as such carry a title and royal blood from a race superior to yours. I posses power and reputation across the galaxy that is practically unequaled. No one's stronger than me at the moment in all quadrants, except for that bumbling fool you call a friend, and that won't even last long. No one touches what's mine and be sure of this… planets would fear you just by dropping my name. I personally blasted Frieza's main minions and most loyal factions to the next dimension and delivered the news to every legion I used to command. Hosts would come crawling and trembling at my feet if I were to issue an order…”
He lowered his voice an octave, drilling her eyes with his own. “Chikyuu should feel more than honoured to have me walk its surface and use it as a temporary retreat. It should count itself lucky it's the home planet of my female, for I now may consider sparing its fate once my dealings here are wrapped. My training should progress according to plan, allowing me to attain golden hair for once and for all. Once that's done, I will pull the empire back together under the Saiyan coat of arms.”
She couldn't believe her ears. Genuinely couldn't, for all the truth of his inflated words, there was one that remained fixed on her mind. Marked. “Do you have the least idea who I am? I am practically royalty myself as far as Chikyuu is concerned. I can't… I am not anyone's concubine!” She stomped her foot, arms tensed in frustration.
He flexed the arm that was braced against the wall to lean closer and purr into her face. “Woman, what the hell is the matter with you. Your performance was not objectionable. In fact you would have been a fucking hit as a sex slave back under Frieza's dominion. You speak of being royalty when I know… and I know this very well… that you're nothing but a slut.”
Bulma's eyes bulged and her cheeks flared. She couldn't even respond, just look at him as her jaw clenched and unclenched. She smelled of him, of his masculinity, it was so powerful she could feel it herself, God knew how much he felt it. She had liked his ruthless passion and how it never waned throughout the night too. Even now she couldn't help but think about how she still hadn't sucked him. It was all she could do to refrain herself from dropping down to her knees and going down on him right that very second.
“You are very wrong Vegeta.” She said with a voice so feeble she cringed at the sound of it.
He snorted, pulling back to hold the silk firmly around his waist with both hands. “Should I remind you about last night and just how many times you demanded I made you mine?”
This was exactly one of the things she'd feared. He was smart and cruel and he'd humiliate her the first time he got.
“That means something totally different in Chikyuu than in your macho warrior culture. Yours for a night… yours as a figure of speech, not… not literally. I am not yours to use and dispose of whenever you wish so.” She'd certainly never intended to be owned so completely, in body and in mind. Kami-sama, if he thought she would lay down at his feet and kiss them then he'd be damned.
“Have you forgotten our little deal?”
She gritted her teeth and snarled. Regroup Bulma, dammit. “No I haven't. I agreed to pleasuring you in exchange for the knowledge that you'd leave me and my people unharmed.” She clasped the sheets to her body more fiercely, pulling her most menacing look, the one that had gained her the title of queen bitch in the lab. “But I am certainly not your property, and I refuse to be what you claim me to be.” She pouted angrily.
He raised his chin slightly, looking at her down his regal nose. He seemed genuinely confused as to why any single female would refuse the wealth and grandeur that could accompany being his only consort. And in truth, who the hell would. Well, the pride of a Briefs was really something. That's all she could say to that.
“As you wish.” He shrugged disinterestedly. “But know this, you're marked now. I will take your body be it as a rightful willing concubine with the privileges that may entail or as a simple pleasure slave. You choose. I'll have no obligation to you as the latter, nor to this land you call home. And if you crawl unto my bed as anything less than last night, I will assure you woman, your Chikyuu will more than likely perish. You will fulfill your part of the deal if you'd rather spare your people the suffering.”
His little woman was a complete rarity, planted there like an exotic jewel. He found it quite amusing indeed how she threw her tantrums as if she truly believed she had the upper hand in their private universe of two. Whatever her choice, he'd still enjoy bedding her day in day out, seeing just how long she'd go before he'd manage to break her into total submission. She'd be quite an amazing love consort if she'd just stop driving herself crazy with impracticalities. And even if she wound up being unbreakable, her spunk would prove more than satisfying as he attempted to tame her every night.
“It's not that simple Vegeta. Don't you see I truly don't want you anymore?” She approached him determinately, stopping only a whisper away from his face.
“Oh is that so.” He let go of the sheet that had remained covering his nudity and grabbed her knuckles, forcing them apart so she'd bare her own body.
The peaks of her breasts hardened instantly, as if crying out to be claimed by his teeth and his lips. He leaned forward, closing his eyes ever so slowly and parting his mouth against hers. Her lips were still as ripe as pomegranates from the fierce kisses that had sated her thirst until the break of dawn.
He was very close, his warm breath already making her mouth water. “No… I won't…” Her whisper was barely audible, but he picked it up instantaneously. He pulled back, his handsome features drawn into a scowl.
He'd never though she was this weak, this lacking in courage. A brief expression of disgust darkened his face, one she didn't see for her eyes were closed, her lips still pursed on the verge of a kiss.
“No… I won't be a simple bed slave. I want it all.” She whispered. It was clear that she'd made up her mind, taking the only viable and intelligent option she had. She'd been up, she'd been down, and struggling to come to terms with last night but she could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. She would have it all, his body and his pride… somehow. She'd rise to the occasion, confront her fears, wage a battle in bed and never waver. Her spirit swelled beautifully under the thrill of the challenge, making her chest heave in anticipation.
His expression transformed under her words, a snide smile of satisfaction tugging at his lips. “Somehow little one, I didn't think you'll settle for less than that.” His words were half a moan as he nipped and sucked on her mouth.
No she wouldn't. He was right. She'd be the perfect contender, in mind and body, never backing down be it the last thing she did.
She circled his neck with her arms, thoughts slowly giving way under the sensation of his feverish body against hers, both no longer concerned with covering their bodies. She began pressing herself against his muscles, already desperate to sate the half-insane need to posses him.
“Mm… not now… we can't do it again just yet.” He managed to sneak in the words between his own frantic kissing as he drank from her lips passionately.
“Why not…” She urged him, grinding her hips against him.
He tore the kiss to look at her with eyes half hazed by lust. “You're still sore woman, you must be after last night, and you should know I don't wreck what's mine.”
He disentangled his lips from hers and pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger gently. He then tilted her head slightly. There were a few bruises over her neck and arms, perhaps some more elsewhere upon closer inspection. Bulma eyed him curiously as his gaze slid up and down her body in complete concentration.
“I was unable to control my power completely.” He said sternly almost to himself, as a brief look of distaste flitted over his visage.
“I don't care about that… I will be ok.” She coaxed temptingly “Considering you are capable of blowing entire planets to dust, I think you did quite well, so wasn't I right in what I said. You didn't kill me and doing it again certainly won't either.” She purred, clinging to his neck as she kissed him below the earlobe. God, the sick, twisted need to make love and get her new `master' to howl in pleasure was nearly driving her insane. This dangerous games she played, so crooked and irrational were going to be the end of her. “Vegeta…” Her moan succeeded in making his breath get caught up in his throat.
“Insatiable little bitch.” He breathed unto her neck. “I'll shower you too cool your head off. It's in your own benefit.”
She smiled into his shoulder when she felt him shudder against her body. Her tongue wanted to play, to lick the light sheen of masculine sweat off his skin. “That may prove even more dangerous.” She said biting his skin, kindling his fire until she felt his manhood harden once more.
If he wanted to wait, she could do so too. He might be right in that it was best that way anyway. She could feel the burning sensation of wild sex still stinging her intimate flesh. However, that didn't mean she couldn't have some fun with his majesty in the meantime, and for all he knew about women and about her body at this point, a girl from Chikyuu could still tease like no other. She'd teach him a thing or two as part of his “ki” training, things that went beyond the classic “ins and outs” of what they had already done.
And so she dragged him unto the shower, butterflies flapping inside her stomach in anticipation. She was almost certain he was the kind of male that would have never done something like showering with a casual fuck. He was probably used to ultimate ruthlessness in his treatment of his one night stands. Going that further must have seemed like a proper outrage.
His hesitation before entering the confines of her bathroom had been nothing but gasoline to her fire, his sudden uncertainty on just what to do in such a situation the ultimate aphrodisiac. There was no denying he was a quick learner… He had started by standing there on the shower, hands braced against the sleek tiles of the wall, his back to her as he let the warm water slide deliciously down his every nook and crevice. It had been enough to make her lick her lips and approach him from behind, sliding her hands around his narrow waist to smoothen them down his abs. Her man was nothing but perfection, enough to make her knees quiver.
The need for her had driven him to close his eyes, throwing his head back as they stood surrounded by the steam that filled the tight space. He had been prey to the feeling of her palms as they washed him. She rubbed them over his belly, fingers playing with his navel.
And her hands had wandered lower, grabbing his hardness and making him breath harshly through the nose in the process. There was no one around to hear the echoes of what happened next when he turned around and opened his legs wide, no one to witness her sinfulness as she knelt down to pleasure him under the gentle flow of the water.
She let a twisted feeling of satisfaction roll over her freely as he grabbed the hair behind her head in a firm grip while she made love to everything between his thighs. Who said there wasn't anything more other than what they'd already done? Who said tongues, and hands couldn't have every bit as much fun. He tugged on her hair, pulling her up when she was done drinking him up and satisfying her thirst. He kissed her, as the rivers of warmth poured down their faces and mingled with their tongues.
She didn't question why she was so content with nothing more than having serviced him. She didn't berate herself for having felt good as she knelt, for having enjoyed it when he'd pushed and pulled her head unto his hardened flesh at the rate he wanted. Her mind was now clear enough to understand a simple truth… you can't really own something without being owned in return. Had he gotten a glimpse of that while she swallowed him? Had he cursed himself as he rolled his eyes in sheer pleasure?
Now as they kissed, he slid his hands up over the small of her back until he cupped the back of her head, cradling it in his palms. Bulma was it? His Chikyuu woman… she tested his control and raised him to heights he'd never known before. His tongue tangled with hers, under the drizzle of the showerhead in the middle of her lace trimmed bathroom. The war lord, the grisly beast toying with this little slut, tasting her creamy skin and her plump lips. He was going to taint her, trample her girly world and make her his so utterly and completely she'd forget her name yet again. He was going to raise her to heaven and bang her there as the angels witnessed. And the air would leave her lungs with every thrust once he was able to have her again.
After all, his Ki needed to be trained didn't it? …And training was one thing he took seriously.
Earth lay below the hiss of the wind and the fluff of the clouds, alive and well under the scrutiny of the temple of God. His robe fluttered to the wind, his solemn eyes peaceful as he walked the rim of the marbled tiles with the pace of old age. A gentle gaze, bursting with faithfulness caressed the curvature of Chikyuu and he resisted the urge to grace the skies with glittering rainbows, his personal gift to the good children and the needy of joy.
Such pleasant thoughts were instantly disrupted the minute she appeared, once again the sound of her fortune-telling orb announcing her arrival.
The minute he felt her halt at his side he smiled to himself, still not looking in her direction. She stood there, regarding the land and requiting his silence.
After a while, he spoke. “Good job with the lighter. I didn't expect anything less from you.”
“Hm. I thought it would make for perfectly innocent meddling. It did create some tension that spiced up the night, at least up to the point we were able to watch. You know the other world isn't safe from censorship.”
He chuckled softly. “She didn't back down the morning after Baba, nor did he. He didn't kill her.”
“Yet.” She was quick to add. “Don't count yourself a winner so quickly. There is too much money at stake here and loads more of pride. We're a long time away from the Androids even arriving on earth anyway and you know no is like Bulma and Vegeta. Face the truth, Kami. It can't be. It's a physical impossibility for hell and heaven to exist together in the same space. Nothing… nothing will keep them together.” She said it without a single inch of malice, but as part of the wisdom only years bring forth.
“That may be so, but there's always an exception that proves the rule.”
“Not this time.” She interjected, smiling for the first time. She began to leave, slowly turning her back on him.
Kami-sama whirled around, stopping her on her tracks with one last fretful comment from his lips. “You can't try and tear them apart. You could endanger the existence of that boy from the future.”
She turned her face slightly, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “Nothing will happen that shouldn't happen--- that didn't already happen at least until he is born. The boy is safe.”
“This time no one will die in battle, this time they won't have to part. With that out of the way they have a chance of staying together unlike the future. Nothing else will come between them.” His voice was a veiled question, issued as subtly as possible. Reality was he wasn't capable of telling what would happen next even through his spiritual power. The arrival of that youth may have even thwarted the timeline more than they suspected.
Her smile widened and she turned to look away from him. “We'll see about that.”
“What are you planning Baba? I hope you and Enma-daioh refrain from pulling a dirty trick.” He looked at her with a slight frown, holding unto his staff as if half-dreading her answer.
Her voice sounded both malevolent and mischievous as she spoke. “Don't worry now. We're really hoping it won't come to… that.”
She issued a short cackle before disappearing behind a curtain of sun rays, mist and clouds.
A/N: Comments and questions, or Vegeta pictures… always welcome. Ch. 7… what does it feel like to be in a relationship *of sorts* with such an extraordinary man?