Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ How to Make Love to a Saiyan ❯ Kiss of Death ( Chapter 13 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Akira Toriyama. Get him to sell them to me.
A/N: devinyx, that song was wicked cool. Warning: Strong chapter. Not all is pretty. This is a look into the mind of Vegeta. You do the math.
How to Make Love to a Saiyan
Step 14 - Kiss of Death
When had absolute darkness morphed into the dimly lit passages of a mansion? She wasn't sure, but something was evident. This wasn't earth. That was more than obvious to her eyes as they scanned the obscenely sumptuous world she had stepped into. The hall was trimmed in red and gold tapestries, lined by sculptures of characters that looked every bit as divine as they looked menacing. They were large and heavy, ascending to a towering height so they hovered over her completely. The bizarre creatures intertwined on the ceiling to cast their overbearing presence over her, like angels and demons from lands unknown who witnessed the damned as they waked the somber corridors.
She dragged her way through them, the lower portion of her dress soaked in blood and clinging to her legs as she marched heavily. She finally gathered the crimson folds to her, listening to her own breathing echo through the halls like the agonizing pants of a terminally ill patient. The atmosphere was so oppressive she had to brace herself on the walls, spurring herself on to make it to the end. It was a challenge to retain the fortitude of her spirit and remember that old blazing passion that had driven her to this very moment. She was here to be the sole witness to his truth.
No one said it'd be easy and she didn't expect it to be, yet her energy threatened to abandon her, every breath infinitely difficult. The pressure in her chest hiked and her heart struggled to keep beating like the frailest bird fluttering in a brutal trap. Go forth. Keep going, it sang with every pump, and so she did until she reached the room at the end of the hall. With the will of her soul her clammy hands opened the double doors so her sea blue eyes could gaze upon the shrine within.
She remained still as the richness of the place registered. A single glance was more than enough to convince her of the solemnity of the room and to realize this was surely a place of religious veneration, symbol of pious devotion and righteousness.
The room was grandiose, built for one single person to preside here over the fate of nations. Towards one end there stood a wide surface made of a sturdy type of crystal. The carpet was lush and the curtains black silk, embroidered with what looked like mandala symbols from completely foreign places. She understood their alien nature, a mystical proof of the theological richness of some faraway solar system she'd most likely never visit. Her eyes latched unto the flickering red flame that glowed over a pit in the corner of the room surrounded by crystal vases full of shiny coins and glimmering jewels. She immediately alighted on the truth, that this was unlimited opulence built over the devotion of the religious masses.
Through the entire far side, which was all windows, she could see a planet as colorful as Jupiter infused in a red glow, so wide it filled the entire view. Such beauty… such poetry, she told herself with eyes transfixed by the surreal vision before her. She could have surrendered to the most complete form of amazement, while the eyes of a scientist and mostly an earthling gazed upon a gem of the most recondite region of deep space. She could have been lost in the moment, except a frosty wind rushed in through the window, fluttering the curtains in its wake and sending a cold chill up her spine. It was enough to wake her up to a certain realization. This was so tangible there was no doubt it was a vivid memory, something that had been as real as the somersaulting of her stomach.
It was a figment of his mind from a place and a time unknown to her and she suddenly felt insignificant. Could anyone ever truly understand who he was who didn't see the places he did or witnessed the reality of outer space? This grandeur, this sophistication so enormous and beyond anything conceivable to a human, it was… overtaking. No, she realized. She still didn't know him at all. She had barely started to do so tonight, looking through his eyes as she walked the twisted roads of his mind. It was enough to understand one simple truth; we are all a product of our former experiences, those places we've been and people we've met. The hardships endured and joys experienced. And for the looks of this place alone, this life he led before setting foot in Chikyuu was too terribly beautiful and fatally gorgeous… just like him.
She suddenly noticed the figure sitting on a wide chair in the shadows of the place, patterns of smoke emanating from his direction and dispersing like incense. He wore darkness like a cloak, almost like he belonged in it, so perfectly enveloped she couldn't tell who it was, but he wasn't alone. Two creatures resembling some type of canines slept at his feet while he remained there quiet and deeply immersed in his thoughts and his solitude. Like he liked it, she thought… like he was waiting for something and enjoying himself in the mean time.
She narrowed her eyes at him, and she would have said a word. In fact she was about too, but that very instant the door burst open and a couple barged in entangled in a heated embrace, their hands all over each other's body and their tongues eager to play. The male was a large man, dressed in a long dark robe with a red sash tied around his waist and the woman, well there was barely anything covering her at all. They staggered towards the table and the man dropped her on top as he worked what flimsy clothing concealed her chest. She was marveled at how human they looked, so anthropomorphic the only thing giving away their alien heritage was the unnatural tint of their green irises.
She became privy to the fact that they couldn't see or hear her, not them nor the strange character who remained ensconced in his anonymity, and even though things replayed before her as product of a memory, the sights, the smells and the sounds unraveled with crystal clear clarity.
The exuberant female was already laying on the crystal table top and the stocky man grinning lecherously, and she wondered at the purpose of this whole scenario. It was the thought fleeting through her mind when all of a sudden everything changed. It was quick like the flash of lightening or the sound of thunder, making her and the couple jolt in surprise at the same time. The light on the jewel studded fixture over the ceiling flickered on and the eyes of the lovers widened in absolute shock as the intruder came into full view.
Bulma thought her chin would surely hit the floor the moment she took him in. He was sitting there, wearing black armor with golden buckles over his chest and a thick weapon strapped over his right arm that looked almost like a long bracelet, yet deadly nonetheless. He looked like a creature of the night, extremely comfortable inhaling the smoke from the long black cigarette between his fingers as he sat back witnessing the startled pair that stared agape. It was a hard task taking her eyes off of him, with the mindboggling outfit and the stylish heavy boots and…
She shrieked in horror when she spotted the beasts on the floor flanking him, their unsightly heads rearing as they woke from their morose state. One thing was certain; they were the most god-awful horrid damn dogs she'd ever seen, the perfect manufacture of the most terrible nightmare. In fact, she supposed she couldn't even call them dogs, really. They had enormous maws with shark-like teeth that foamed and drooled as if they were rabid. They had the thick musculature of steroid riddled rottweilers, except their skin wasn't silky and furry, it was completely bare so they were the color of flesh, and that second she was sure they must have been conceived in the deepest most hellish pit of space.
The two demon-like animals looked at their master as if expecting some sort of command, yet he remained passive. She supposed only someone like him could exert such dominance over heinous monsters like those. She was sure this was the Prince, surely him. She could feel her blood boil the way it only did in his presence.
“What's the matter chancellor? Don't let my presence deter you from indulging in your private pastimes. By all means, do finish what you started.” He said with a sly smile and hard eyes.
“What the.... how did you get into my private study?!” The man seethed. He looked positively frozen regarding him with eyes as wide as saucers. He was almost as pale as the woman, who'd been shrieking all the while and was now shaking uncontrollably. Her gaze never left the beasts on the carpet.
Vegeta chuckled ominously. “I can't say I blame you for being so shocked, but I trust that you and I will come to much warmer terms in no time. Still, allow me to ignore that pretty pointless question you just made and cut to more important matters. Aren't you going to ask me the most obvious of all things? I'd be fucking disappointed if you didn't.”
The man bared his pointed fangs and hissed. He trembled in what could only be described as terminal fury. “How… how did you manage to escape? You should be rotting in that dungeon they left you, you sick son of a bitch, feeding of the decaying corpses of those you killed and drinking your own damn piss!”
“Oh yeah, quite a treat that was and I will fully repay you for such gentleness, it shall not go unnoticed.” Vegeta's tone had suddenly changed to deadly and Bulma felt dread creep up on her as the event unfolded. “It has been the most pleasant year of my life.” He added. “Total deprivation of light is one hell of a thing.”
“Well I don't care how you did it. I suppose your overlord wound up buying the courts that locked you up like the despicable vermin you are, but know this… I will stop at nothing until you go back to prison and never see the light of day again. One year light deprivation in the pitch black of that hole will seem like vacation compared to what they'll do to you next time.” The man nearly foamed from the mouth, sputtering and gesticulating with indignity. “I saw you singlehandedly subject entire populations of this system into slavery but as chancellor of the region I'd rather die then surrender any more of it to you.” He took a step closer, eyes becoming like those of snakes while he mouthed the threats.
“And I will keep pressing charges against you over and over again, you can be damn certain of that. You will suffer the delightful caress of the acid whip against your flesh one more time. Do tell me, was it good? Did you enjoy that? I am sure the torture wasn't disappointingly mild. Oh I heard you never confessed, not once did you plead for them to stop, but if you never said a word, your raw torn up flesh sure spoke volumes for you in that universal language we can all understand. Gushing blood.”
He braced his weight on the table and darted hateful eyes towards Vegeta. “This time it won't be a year, this time it will for the extent of your vile existence. But don't worry boy, we'll throw in more leeches. They probably make for nice snacks.”
Bulma backed up until her back hit a wall, forgetting to breath and attempting to puzzle out the words spouted by the raging man. The enormity of it all clouded her brain making it impossible to digest what he was truly saying. She couldn't conceive such hate and such horror, or so much pain for that matter.
Vegeta merely stared, inhaling one more time the thick heady smoke of that fragrant cigarette before flicking it away. She realized then she couldn't really recognize his expression at all. She'd truly never seen him like this before. His eyes were like glimmering daggers of death, pupils narrowed to a certain manic concentration that could make any living breathing creature loose bowel control. Luscious burgundy lips broke into a sideways smile so cold her blood felt like it was freezing.
“Interesting.” He said in a voice hoarsened by barely contained contempt. “Now before that happens we have matters to tend to, for you see, your attitude is most certainly unfortunate. Regardless of your sins against the Ice-jin empire, our position has been nothing but forgiving.” He rose gallantly, an expression of smoldering hostility vanquishing his face. “But you keep turning us down. You'd rather refuse our offerings and poison the courts against us. Is it truly so difficult to acquiesce Chancellor. Have we not been graceful enough?”
The two monstrous creatures sat up, snorting through their nostrils like horses and licking their fangs in expectation. They analyzed him like they were under some sort of incantation, utterly in love with their master and loyal to no end.
“And slavery? What the empire brought to those broken-down shabby planets on the outer rim? I take offense to that truly, knowing fully well they are now protectorates of such a powerful dominion.” He grinned and spread his arms open acquiring the posture of someone magnanimous, like a dark angel who brought peace by death and progress by blood upon the worlds he walked.
“Rape, and murder and servitude, is that the protection of your rotten empire? You are the miasma that spreads over the galaxy like a black cloak of decadence. So you listen to me, you despicable monster, someone has got to stop you, and if it's in my power to do so, then by all means I will. You race of exterminators, messengers of death and destruction!”
Vegeta laughed, that eerie sound that could be both provocative and downright scary. He looked even more handsome as his baying laughter resounded, glimmering eyes and the smirk of a demon gracing the pretty angles of his face. How old was he here, 20? “That is fucking beautiful. It flatters me to no end.”
The woman on the table darted her eyes nervously from one creature to the other as they straightened their hind legs to stand on all four. She whimpered and scrambled back over the table in panic, nearly convulsing. Vegeta let his eyes skim the woman with an almost sensuous appreciation that made Bulma swallow hard. “And just were the hell is the wife, chancellor? Is she tucked away with your children sleeping soundly while you fuck your whore?”
“Listen to me you little…”
“No YOU listen to me you damn fucking shit.” He interrupted, taking extremely slow steps in his direction. “You are through talking and I am through hearing.”
The woman wailed as tears raked down her anguished face, burning her flesh in their wake. “I am going to make you an offer you are not going to refuse.”
The man threw his weight back, his face shaken. “I think it's more than evident I don't take bribery from you fiends…” His voice broke in mid-sentence, betraying his intention to remain firm. Then Bulma realized that urine was already pooling beneath him and so noticed the heathen beasts who perked up their short triangular ears.
“Oh but I am not going to offer you wealth or things as such.” Vegeta slid his hand up over the woman's nape and sifted his fingers through her hair with incredible gentleness. He then grabbed the limp threads and pulled her to him fiercely. She was shaking so wildly, her throat emitting breaths so ragged in terror Bulma felt the instinct to save her surging inside her. But she couldn't move a single muscle as she stood stuck to the wall, impotence wearing her down into abject desolation.
Vegeta's strong arms embraced the tremulous woman, his hot breath beating on the white skin of her neck as he spoke. “My gracious offer is to actually let you retain your life. Am I not compassionate Chancellor? The most invaluable offer possible and all you need to do in return is stop motherfucking poking the courts. Allow the entry, lift up the shields to central planet… let the emperor meet with your dignitaries and facilitate the talks. No one wants bloodshed.”
“Nn... never.” He grated, trembling like a leaf and losing the battle with his nerves.
“Oh…” Vegeta husked in mock discontent, the back of his hand trailing the softest of touches down the woman's cheek. “How disappointing.”
He smelled her hair, burying his nose deep into her blonde locks while she clenched her eyes and bit her fingers to quiet her desperate sobs. “So unfortunate.” He added, unlocking her from his embrace to step back.
“Yet the offer stands, regardless of such a display of poor manners. I trust that after tonight you will fully appreciate the weight of all I so selflessly give.” He sent him a smile as hard as granite, cocking his head to the side and glowering ominously. He drifted towards the window as if he had all the time in the world before turning to eye him heavily once more.
The man merely backed into the wall, fear ransacking his body as he awaited some sort of twisted fate he couldn't even begin to fathom.
“And as a bonus I leave you my pets. They are very well trained and respond obediently to my command. I am sure you will surely appreciate them as the rare and fine creatures they are…” He directed his gaze to them for a moment before latching eyes back on him. “It's a pity I haven't been able to feed them properly in a while… rather careless and cruel of me and a fucking bad way to repay their companionship. I must say they do have a particular taste for women. I hope you don't mind them borrowing a meal.”
The woman screamed in terror, shaking violently and curling into a ball over the crystal surface.
Vegeta merely chuckled deep in his throat and turned to leave. He whistled peculiarly before disappearing into the thickness of the night, some sort of private command the monsters caught on to immediately.
What followed made Bulma scrape the walls, her nails raking through them in an attempt to find the door amidst the panic. But she couldn't... the exit that would deliver her from the horrors of the universe seemed to have disappeared, trapping her in a monstrous freak show she couldn't wake up from.
Her screams mixed with those of the woman, each one higher than the other as if her torment was hers. She howled raw cries of terror as she witnessed torn flesh and crunched bone in a display of blood that splattered the beautiful curtains and refined crystal ornaments around. Red sprayed against her own face and all she managed to do is smear it with the back of her porcelain hand in a futile attempt to wipe it away. She didn't quit her laments until she felt she'd snap her vocal chords, arms trembling uncontrollably while she covered her mouth and slid down to the floor. She lost the sense of time as she settled quivering eyes over the crimson spectacle, trapped in visions of flesh slapping against the surfaces. Her own screeches dulled her senses until all in her mind were the vivid details of the artwork of her very own man, the man that had somehow ended owning her.
The chancellor had passed out a long time ago, yet she remained awake until all the beasts did was lick the table. She ended up crouching down against the wall shaking and wailing like a little girl dispensing the sorrow of a lifetime. It poured through her eyes until her tears dried up and her vision faded to black.
She woke up to the sound of her own sobs and the sight of the world she actually belonged to. The same comforting room, the rich Victorian draperies and the shimmering fireplace, it was all there, as she'd left it for what seemed like hours. How long had it truly been? A few minutes at most, she gathered, but life inside his mind transcended like days of beauty and horror.
He was gasping, holding her to him with his head leaning against the wall as they lay there on the carpet. He was the reason her heart ached, that she knew fairly well, but she clung to him regardless, inhaling his scent and relishing his warmth. She needed him, right here, right now, to take away this sorrow and hold her while she cried. And the tears flowed from her eyes down his shoulder, like glimmering beads of crystal. She cried for it all, for him and for her and for the fact that she wished she could fix the world in its entirety and she felt too weak to do so.
“How could you…” She whispered against his warmth. “Why did you…”
Vegeta remained quiet, his breath slowly evening out while he strived to regain the strength that had somehow left him. He raised his hand to cup her cheek and stare into the face of the one woman who'd seen an iota of his inner darkness. “Don't attempt to understand.” Is all he voiced quietly, before disentangling his arms and rising to his feet.
“She was so young.” Bulma wept. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Vegeta allowed himself to look at the pain in her eyes, and after doing so he bitterly realized it was too complete and thorough.
He frowned and closed his own, walking away to shield the emotions that were slowly creeping up to his face. “You had no right to do what you did and hence no right to question anything either.” His eyes darted over to her in fury, like blazing coals. “I should have let you die by your own hand, you manipulative little bitch.”
He was sure this was it. She was going to up and run any minute, traumatized by his past and the notorious evil he'd wrought upon countless lives. Ah but how easy it was to reflect on it now, with eyes coated by a sense of righteousness bestowed by this woman who had always pretended to be his judge. How much did she loath him now that she understood the depth of his sins? How much more were they at a contrast now? She was a Chikyuu-jin enchantress that walked the path of justice and lived the life of a pampered princess and him a wicked monster. He tried to taint her, to make her indulge in her dark side, yet deep down inside he knew… it was true she hadn't once been exposed to the horrors of this universe, or to the likes of him. It was true her hands were soft and immaculate like petals of a white rose in contrast to his. The rough life of a criminal had nothing to do with her.
But if she truly believed she was above him, if she deemed him nothing but a murderer… why was she here now, with him still? Why had she risked her life to look into this world and go to such dark depths? She looked like a forlorn child, sitting there, gazing up at him, every bit an angel of justice as she was an angel of light. She was made of fresh air and the perfumes of flowers. She was a witch as much as she was his blanket of warmth. It was her voice he now heard deep inside, whispering words of encouragement in the midst of his inner wars, and it was her eyes the ones who'd witness what it was like to wrestle with the phantoms of his soul.
He walked over to her again, blinded by an uncontrollable urge to not lose himself in thoughts of her. The truth is he'd saved her for some reason incomprehensible to him and that was perhaps the most frightening sensation he'd felt. It was stronger than anything encountered in his sinister life.
He gathered her in his arms and shook her as he looked into her eyes. “Why did you do it?” He rasped against her face. “Tell me why?”
Bulma's vision never left his as she responded, “Because I could. I will never go down without a fight. You thought I was that girl you could just take over in mind and body yet you have no idea what I am capable of. It was me who took over your mind and body tonight. Did you even see it coming?” She uttered a shaky breath and fixed her stare on his unforgiving one. “I know what you want to do to me now. I know the price I have to pay, but it was worth it, just to say I did it.”
He saw his reflection on the shiny tears still glistening on her eyes and hardened his face in response. “What you did girl, is unforgivable. I am at least glad now you know what I am truly capable of.”
The sheer intensity with which she looked at him made him crinkle his brow. He expected terror and reproach from her, a little more of those emotions she had displayed after waking, but this was something he couldn't put a name to. Her soft ruby lips opened to gift him with the softest whisper. “You don't have to say that. It's in the past now… whatever you did before, so many years ago is long gone. It doesn't have to be that way anymore.”
Vegeta eyed her disbelievingly, her wide blue eyes beginning to shimmer with something that looked like… like hope? Like faith.
Her gentle voice was carrying in the quiet of the room. There was only the sound of fire as it crackled while they remained locked in each others eyes. “Evil is dead, Frieza is dead. And the universe has been freed from its grasp. No more destruction or terror. He's dead Vegeta…can't you see that? And life now is about freedom.”
Vegeta frowned darkly and his eyes quivered in barely suppressed emotion. “Don't say a word. Don't even dare.” He hissed, holding her chin firmly in his hand. “It never ends.”
“He's DEAD” She screamed into his face. “Dead! Don't let him take you away with him too!”
The courage in her eyes made something twinge deep inside him. It was like sun shining brutishly over barren wastelands. What the hell was she saying? Did she actually think she had the right to understand? To pretend she had a quick easy fix to a twisted path of thorns? Well she didn't have the littlest clue.
“He's never dead!” Vegeta roared furiously, abandoning her to take a few steps back. “And whatever it is you saw in there, innocence, childlike purity, it's all a mere illusion…”
“I saw it” She strained her voice to quiet his. “I saw it with my own eyes. Don't you lie to me now.”
Vegeta breathed through his teeth and shot her a deadly glare. “Don't you dare keep overstepping your boundaries girl, not more than you already have. And don't you fucking dare pretend to reform me. I am not your little project!”
Bulma chose to remain quiet, suddenly aware of his seething rage and her own nakedness. It made her feel oddly vulnerable. She quickly scurried to pick up the black sheer robe she'd discarded before and wrapped it around her body. Gods he was pissed, not the usual quiet anger he exuded but a completely serious one that seeped through to her clearly. He paced quietly, like he was grappling with all that had transpired there tonight. She figured if he had his tail it would probably be lashing violently side to side now.
Her time was up now and the moment for words was over. It was true she had more than overstepped her boundaries, violating his body, raping his mind and using every bit of her wiles to trick him into it all. But she'd desired this night with all of her soul since the very day she realized she wanted him. To touch him deeply, more than anyone ever had, that hard body, that dazzling mind. To eat him up and devour him completely. She knew she was risking her own life in the process, but somehow along the way, her obsession had grown into a sweet need that knew no limits. This man was terrible for her. He infected her mind with a sick wanton that went beyond all that was rational. He made her reckless and wild, hungry and thirsty all at the same time. There was nothing she wouldn't risk to snag a bit of him, to be his first one, that one girl who went beyond all those other bitches. In her mind he, somehow, was fiercely and invariably hers.
Still, it didn't matter if every inch of her body longed for him. She'd wanted to show him she would never be broken, that she was still a free thinking woman and a genius at that. She was sure she'd impressed the hell out of him tonight, making him feel what it was to be nothing but an object of lust, the same way she'd felt under the covers as their bodies slid together in a tangled sweaty heap. She'd shown him she wasn't afraid. And as dessert, not just his body but his mind too. Maybe now that she'd sated this insane craving for him her soul would be appeased. But after all said and done she was sure it was time for the end. Would he kill her at last now?
Bulma lifted her eyes to, their irises gleaming like sapphires as they spoke silent resignation. They were also daring him to do his worse and strike her with the last blow. He'd save her life before by shooting the nanobots into his bloodstream, but she was more than sure he had ulterior reasons. He didn't want her stealing the right from him to be her executioner. He probably wanted to squander the life out of her with his very own hand.
He came to a halt and raised an eye to her. Someone should paint such fierce beauty, she absently thought, sickly glad this would be the last image she'd ever see as she was sent to the next world, a vision of that royal posture and absolute command. She'd take with her the feel of those hard muscles so lean and shaped to perfection in the fires of war. Deep inside she'd carry the sensations he could provoke in a woman, so much decadent pleasure and such torrid need, how he knew exactly where to touch a girl and make her scream in delight.
She wanted him, even now as she stood there paralyzed awaiting her dark fate. Even though he'd surely be the one to choke the life out of her now with those same fingers that once spun bliss. He was her man. He was the last binge of adventure before departing earth, heiress to a fortune and slave to her own passions.
She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes, tensing her muscles until they became as rigid as a wooden board. And she waited patiently for the kiss of death. She could feel him approaching, the unmistaken heat of his body slowly enveloping her body as he moved. Suddenly his touch was on her, warm and soft as it slid up the small of her back until his fingers curled over her dainty neck. Her lips trembled slightly but she was oblivious to the instinctive reaction of her body. She abandoned her mind and left it empty as she concentrated on what she was sure would be her last breath. And in that one moment of nothingness, her everything was him.
Her skin was so silken, pure and limpid… almost like porcelain. Naquered and tremulous to his touch. And her fragrance, the fear and the lust intermingled into this peculiar scent made him think of wildflowers. She was all the perfection he never knew or ever dreamed would get to touch, yet here he was tainting it. Her breath, her face, her taste, her tongue, he wanted it all… that and beyond. Her life, her mind, her will and also her beauty.
One snap, it was all it would take to render her body lifeless and make her unblemished skin bruise. One movement of his wrist and air would leave this sinless creature he took to hell with him every night. Every evening she wrestled like a fragile bird in the cage of his arms, and even though she did, she wound up more his woman. Images of him pinning her down, sinking into her body drenched his thoughts completely until that familiar sense of lust tightened his groin. Yes, one snap and it was over, but her lips were as luscious as pomegranates, shapely and juicy. Her curves perfect to his particular taste and needs and the flavor of her skin the only brand he wanted. She was his sacrifice, the virgin mauled over a stone to appease the fury of his demons. So absolutely sublime, awaiting her death without struggle. So infinitely his.
It happened too fast for her to register. Instead of the suffocating touch of death, she felt the swirl of the wind as he quickly spun her around to trap her against him, her back fully pressed against the smooth hardness of his chest.
“Didn't I tell you you don't get the easy way out?” He whispered in her ear. “You don't get any sort of absolution.”
Bulma let his clean breath sent a tremor through her body. His mouth was so close to hers she almost felt like turning her head enough to give in to his lips. He was exactly all that was wrong with her. He was going to be the end of her.
“Life can sometimes be much more painful than death.” He slurred the words against her neck, making her roll her eyes underneath her closed lids. “But I won't touch you tonight; In fact I won't make you mine again. Not until the day you come to me out of your own free will. And make no mistake about it, you most definitely WILL. ”
She swallowed a gasp, parting her lips and closing her eyes. His sinister words were almost condemning her. The notion of death was better than life devoid of his body. The punishment was almost unbearable to her as she felt the potency of his masculinity entrapping her, his strong thighs against her delicate ones, his powerful arms surrounding her and pressing her to him.
She tried to speak, curling her mouths to utter words he halted before they sprung free. “Your life still belongs to me. Your body, your skin, your everything. It's my playland, mine to touch and savor.” He took a whiff at the base of her neck, enjoying the feminine fragrance that made his mind spin. “You are testy, difficult to break girl. You kick like a wild little thing that needs taming.”
Bulma clenched her eyes and breathed harshly through her nose. Here it was again, the all-encompassing instinct to fight him, this maddening mix of potent lust and hatred.
“Oh I know what you're thinking. I know you feel the will to fight. I understand that.” He breathed against her cheek. “My fierce little Chikyuu-jin female. But those days are over.”
Bulma cringed and opened her eyes to mere slits. “Next time I make you mine, as I said, you will come out of your free will and decision. You will give it all to me entirely, mind and body, not holding back an inch. And you will like it, and you will like that you like it.” There was absolute certainty in his words, a prophesy and a curse all in one. “I promise you that.”
She opened her eyes fully, not really gazing at the room but wrestling with his words. No… she wouldn't ever. She would remain untouched. She would quit her drug and become the sensible responsible woman needed to take charge of her business, her family, her life. The media, the world, they would all be witness to someone reborn, morphed into someone away from scandal. She would be the perfect sensible girl to take over the reigns of that monster that was Capsule Corporation. This man wanted to turn her into his slave when what she truly was a queen.
“I am not your little bitch.”
He smiled against her, his teeth grazing her softly. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Let time answer that. You fucked with the wrong man, and in doing so you sealed your own destiny.”
Her muscles tightened and her head spun. Yeah… she was well screwed. But she wouldn't go down without a fight. Perhaps she had been ready to relinquish it all at some point tonight, but no longer. She could never neglect the call of her master's voice, pushing her, taunting her to war with him. She still had life to give him shit and by hell he wasn't going to win. She knew he was a man of his own particular code of honor. Pride was all to him, but that was going to be his demise.
“If that's it then know this. Never again will you have me. Not my body, not my mind and definitely not my soul. And I most certainly will never give it all to you out of my own free will.”
He chuckled so deeply the sound rumbled in her chest. “Little one, must you always fight me…” His fingers trailed down her neck, his other hand holding her waist firmly and slowly gliding down until he pressed her stomach. “Must you go down in flames?”
Something curled between her thighs, and she suddenly remembered she hadn't even sated her desire for him at all tonight. She hadn't indulged in his size filling her up in sweeping motions with that beautiful precision and that perfect rhythm that made her choke on her own gasps. She'd never feel that again, she'd forgo that wicked feeling of taking him all in, of rapture in his arms as he worked her body like an instrument. Not once would she feel so entirely woman again, nor would she let him toss her around in the sheets to sate their basest needs. Like a doll, on her back, on her stomach, held up, held low… in sensuous seamless motions to posses her body every way possible.
No she wouldn't.
“Didn't you hear me?” She gritted. “I am not your fucking pleasure slave.”
He kissed her cheek, his lips scorching her with their heated caress before letting go of her. Bulma's heart had been racing, her knees nearly trembled and so she held on to the wall, scrunching her flimsy robe with the other hand. She closed her eyes and inhaled, not having even realized how shallow her breathing had been all along. Minutes elapsed as she stood there, bracing her weight on the wall and grappling with the curse he had cast over her. His movements were so lithe and perfect she didn't even hear him leave, but she could feel his absence nonetheless. It was oxygen robbed from earth, water taken away from thirst. Pleasure abandoned for pain.
That was his absence. Would he come back for her and if so when? Would he descend upon earth like a fallen angel to claim what was his? And if so… would she heed his call. Like a moth drawn to a flame, like light drawn to darkness, was her fate sealed that way? She attempted to erase him from within as she slid down to the floor but it was his lips she craved, his body she desired. His dark love.
That night she waltzed into the shimmering room clad like an ice angel. The place was a paradigm of wealth and refinement and she the perfect creature to preside over it. People walked about in a profusion of elaborate clothing, doused in the most expensive fragrances men could buy but even through their evident power they were all beneath her. She nodded as she weaved her way through the stockholders gathered in this night of cool composure.
The voiced in her head spoke with sibilant echoes, to never again let her strength leave her as it had up in her room while reminiscing over that night three weeks ago. Not once would she reflect on his absence, or on how he'd left her alone and disappeared. He'd vanished like a ghost of desire that never existed. Days had gone by, one by one in their excruciating slowness as she suffered the withdrawal effects of not having him. His arms were absent, his words gone and she had no idea were he was at all. Her vibrant eager flesh had turned to the ashen features of a lifeless doll that now walked the marble floors aimlessly.
And still through this inexplicable rage and sorrow she'd stay true to her word, attending her meetings more diligently than ever and diving into the task of being chairman of the board. She'd built the stakeholder's trust in her one painful day at a time, little by little. The fact that she hated every minute of it, nothing but irrelevant. Her own passions, her love for science and for fashion lay abandoned as she took the burden of this company over her shoulders. Her father deserved that much, regardless of his repetitive remarks that he'd do just fine handling the corporation as he had for the last 30 years.
Bulma stopped in the middle of the sparkling room to regard her dad. He was sitting at a table, being fed tiny éclairs by her mother who was cheerful beyond her normal demeanor. He seemed so much older and frailer every time she saw him, and her heart constricted, making her regain her resolve to go on. This was her family; this was her responsibility, the inheritance that she couldn't free herself from. She was all, the end of the bloodline and the owner of this fate. That she hated business was beyond the point. She was beyond the point.
It was best he'd left her.
Bulma winced, eyes drifting off to the floor in deep despair. That he left… he left her. It rang through her head like a somber tune that would never end. Three weeks ago, without one more word, without at least another peek at his face. Was he ever going to come back again? Would she see him again…
Well, what the hell was the matter with her? It TRULY was best he'd left. And even though what they shared was stronger than any drug, she was better off without it. Life without him was…
She scanned the crowd engaged in pleasantries, the light murmur of their chatter intertwining with the vibrato of violins. Life without him was as it should be, nothing more, nothing less. The melody spread throughout the room with its exquisite finesse, reminding her of the nostalgia of a wailing heart. Or perhaps that's what it sounded like only to her as she stood there in the middle surrounded by the oppressive elegance.
She suddenly felt like she'd drown, like a child lost in a sea of infinite strangers. She spun slowly, searching and searching, alone in the multitude, and she didn't know what she was looking for and it didn't matter. She was exalted above the most powerful characters in this world, and she would reign there alone, perched over a throne of glass and steel and money and power.
A hand grabbed her wrist delicately and just like that the room stopped swirling. Her eyes connected with soulful ones, a handsome face that gifted her with memories of old adventures and marvelous tales that were theirs alone.
“You seemed a bit lost.” He said gently, a smile brightening those boyish features that were so so very different from…
“And I felt the need to take you home.” He winked at her sweetly, as she opened her eyes to regard him fully. There he was, the rescuer of the evening, dressed in a black suit that complemented him perfectly.
“Must you appear unannounced and frighten me Yamcha.” She said in a small voice, the rest of the room suddenly loosing all bearing.
“Only when you need it most.” He added playfully pulling her away with him softly. They walked their way through the people in the room until they reached the crystal doors that opened into the enormous terrace of the building. They looked almost like bride and groom, her a vision of white, him attired in black as they left the gathering hand in hand to meet the fresh breeze of the night. The swimming pool to the right rippled softly as the air grazed through it, and it shimmered like molten crystal under the glittering lamps lighting it. Fairy lights adorned the trees and surrounded the walls turning it all into a dreamlike haze that made her feel she was floating.
They reached the railing and gazed out into the city together for brief minutes before she lifted her eyes to study his profile. It was difficult to not get lost in it and suddenly pretend life could be so perfect. A girl in control of her dominion, her subjects gathered in that room to the right, and here, right next to her, the man that could actually give her the rest.
“I always thought you looked pretty in white, although you seldom wore it.” He said, bracing his weight on the stone surface and smiling at her.
She leaned her back against that short wall and cupped his face with the most featherlike touch. “And you look good in black too… but you never wore it before either. I suppose tonight things are just completely different.”
“Tonight and tomorrow if you gave me a chance.” He added, widening his smile.
“A chance…?” Her question was the gentlest inquiry, laced with threads of hesitancy.
Bulma's fingers moved lower, slowly, while she fastened her eyes to his, until they rested over his lips in a tender caress.
Maybe it was the pain of being left behind, the longing or the emptiness. Perhaps it was the night that transpired with so much ease and quietude. The way he looked, and the way he spoke, for he gave her a chance to claim a life where she would be able to settle like the serious business woman she now was. A family? Children… dignity… all in one. All in a kiss.
He closed his eyes as she inched forward, almost in slow motion, until their lips met softly. It was shy and secretive, almost chaste as she tasted his lips carefully and he returned that same mild caress. She pried the gates of her heart open for him, to try and forgive and forget the drama that had forced them apart so many months ago, but mainly to try and bury the memory of that other man that had whisked her away in a torrent of black passion. All she wanted was this ache and this loss to withdraw, to have the need she felt for her alien lover every day and every night finally vanish.
And so with the carrying tones of the string quartet filtering through the air and the fairy lights twinkling around them they reclaimed a wisp of the past and kissed quietly under the moonlight. No one witnessed such candor, no one but the city lights and the black eyes of a creature of the night.
A/N: I truly don't think you know what comes next. Nah, I bet you don't. Try guessing. You're prolly wrong. To izzieLaLa, my heart is with you, truly! Thank you so much for letting me know what your thoughts are. Now I am sending all my positive vibes in your direction. May things start looking up. To Trynia, you were the first review for this story, so seeing you review still… (huge hug). Oh something else, you should check out the song I Think I am Paranoid by Garbage. Ehm, seriously, you'll understand.