Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Master of Desire, Slave to Lust ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: We all know that I don't own DBZ or the characters herein, which is a good thing cause it would have ended up as just one long hentai.

A/N: For the most part I think that women fantasize. We create a whole subplot for our plot just to explain why we are with a guy who doesn't really exist. Guys on the other hand, more than likely focus on T & A. I could be wrong, but for the sake of this chapter I'm going with that theory.

Master of Desire, Slave to Lust

Chapter Two

Bulma was a brooder. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, after all that's how she solved most of her invention crises. She dwelled long and hard on the problem until the answer came to her. Unfortunately, she could find no solution to her current dilemma. That being her utter and thorough disgust of a certain snobbish Saiyan.

The next day after her show, she didn't even get an eyebrow raise from the prince. Nothing, just normalcy. Bulma had to resist the urge to stomp her foot like a two year old. She didn't want normal, she wanted him panting after her like every other male in her sphere had done her entire life. She wanted him to want her.

Annoyed, Bulma decided on the only true path of the scorned. Revenge. What's good for the goose is good for the gander her mother always said, which got her stuck in her second dilemma. The fact that Vegeta was eyeballing her at the moment with the intensity of a snake ready to strike.

She entered his GR confident that she would be able to slip in and out before Vegeta even knew she was there. Of course, nothing ever went as she planned lately. As she was leaving he had come in, pinning her to the spot with his distrustful black eyes. She folded her hands behind her back, trying to look innocent while attempting hiding her tool bag behind her without looking conspicuous. There was nothing unusual about her being in his GR with tools, but these were not her normal wrench and socket. What she had in her hands were utensils for dealing with more delicate apparatuses, something in the vicinity of small spy cameras.

Vegeta stalked slowly up to her, stopping only inches from her, putting her instantly on edge. His eyes swept her from head to foot and she had the weirdest sensation that he knew she was naked under her jumpsuit.

"What are you doing?" The question wasn't a barked demand, but a velvety trap of smooth octaves. The words slid past her stomach to wrap themselves around her spine, urging her to arch her back and settle her already pertly aroused breasts against his hard chest.

"What's it look like Vegeta?" Her question wasn't nearly as silky, wariness putting a sharp edge in her tone. When all else fails, fall back onto sarcasm was her motto.

"It looks like you are snooping around where you shouldn't be." Impossibly his voice seemed to grow even softer, but the underlying threat curled around her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

Bulma sniffed and looked away, wondering how she was going to get out of this one. "This is my GR Vegeta. I can be in it if I want to, but if you must know I was just running a diagnostic on the computer. You need to stop being so suspicious of everyone." What she really meant was that he needed to stop being so suspicious of her. Especially in lieu of their night time activities.

Vegeta leaned closer, dropping his nose close to her neck and inhaling deeply. He could smell the lie on her, but it didn't concern him. He knew that whatever she had done, it wouldn't result in his death or detriment. She was far too humane to think of trying to kill him. But she was definitely up to something.

He took another breath inhaling the odor that lingered on her body past the lie. He never tired of her scent. It was unlike anything he had ever smelled before. It was tangy with vitality, whipped with sex appeal and rich with life. Life. Something completely foreign to him. It wasn't until coming to this planet that he realized that such a scent existed. Before now all he had ever scented was death. He was saturated in it. It infiltrated his skin, coating his mouth and nostrils, living in his lungs. Everyone he had ever had contact with up until now smelled the same way. Either they had the rotting stench of death on their clothes or the fear of their emanate demise slicked on their skin. Death had been everywhere around him.

But this woman. She didn't even fully understand the meaning. She had never been completely touched by it. To her death was just a wish away from being rectified. She bathed in life, reveled in it, was the very embodiment of it and he found himself instantly attracted to it.

His eyes skimmed down her body, taking in her gray overalls, stained with grease. All he had to do was grasp the zipper, pulling it down to reveal her beautiful body to his hard gaze. He knew she was naked underneath, the bounce of her unbound breasts told him so. Along with her vitality he could smell her sated desire still lingering on her skin and her newly aroused lust just by being in his presence, but mostly he could smell her need. Her need to be touched by him.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to meet her wide eyes before his lips dipped down to her ear. "You are lying to me, Slave." He drew out the word slave, enunciating it carefully so she felt the full effect.

Bulma quivered as Vegeta leaned in to sniff her. She barely resisted the urge to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on until he forced her to let go. She didn't want that though. She didn't want to do the touching, she wanted to be touched. When he pulled back to look into her eyes she felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She knew the words before she heard them and then the predicted slur came.

How she hated him. His dominating presence, his wholly male stance. He thought he could talk down to her. He thought he could try to make her feel inferior, but he was wrong. She was top bitch in this world and one way or another he was going to learn it.

Vegeta held back his tiny grin when he felt the change in her body. In a flash she went from lustful to angry, both of which were just as arousing to him. She drew back, her perfect bow shaped lips twisting into a snarl of rage, her eyes burning with blue fire.

He watched with serene detachment as she brought her hand back with human slowness and whipped it across his jaw. He sat unmoving as her eyes went from angry to pained before returning to angry again. She cradled her injured hand against her stomach and Vegeta's cruel lips curled into a mocking smile.

She hissed in frustration and Vegeta could read the hate in her eyes. A sight he was intimately familiar with. "I am not a slave!" She spat with venom, but Vegeta ignored her, his attention snared by her flushed face and heaving breasts. His fingers curled at his sides as the urge to reach out and unzip her coveralls lanced through him.

Last night he had seen every intimate detail of her body, but instead of sating his lust, it only enflamed it. He watched her nightly aware that she knew he was there. It was his own personal ritual. A way for him to relax. Watching her soothed him like music does the savage beast. But he would not give in. He would not touch her until he got what he wanted.

He had been born to rule, but his entire life had been spent in slavery. He was meant for power, for domination, but that had been stripped from him before he even knew the meaning of the word subjugation. Frieza the most powerful being in his universe, in his world, in his life had been destroyed and now he had nothing.

This woman, however, had everything. She had no pedigree yet she ruled her world with a hand full of gold and a tongue dipped in silver. She had the ability to raise an army and raze this pathetic civilization to the ground if she wanted to. Yet, here she stood. All that power, all that control wasted in her small, delicate hands while all of his life he had dreamt of that sort of supremacy. Of course on a much grander scale, but her complete short sightedness was still disturbing.

Vegeta's eyes darkened and Bulma felt a shiver of fear run through her. When he didn't react to either her attack or her hurled comment she decided a tactical retreat was best. Whenever he was so coldly unresponsive it unnerved her. She would give up half her fortune just to see what was going on inside his head during those moments.

Vegeta watched with sly amusement as she skirted around him and made for the exit post haste. She still hadn't told him the truth as to why she had been in there but he was confident that he could figure it out. He stood staring at the closed door that she had exited through for some minutes before he inhaled deeply his thick chest expanding with the effort.

He found her spore wafting in the air leading him to his quarters beneath the Gravity Room. He lifted the hatch, disdaining the ladder as he floated down to the sparse room. His dark eyes swept the area, taking in the narrow cot that was pushed up against the steel wall, the starched linens tucked under the mattress in neat military fashion.

Behind him stood the door to the kitchen and in front of him was the way to the bathroom. To his left was a TV, facing the cot on the opposite wall. It was Dr Briefs attempt to make the warrior more comfortable, spouting some nonsense about every man needing to watch sports.

As his gaze brushed by the TV, he saw what she had done instantly though it was cleverly hidden in the wall. He didn't pause in his sweep not wanting the little female to know that her game was up. With sure, steady steps he walked into the dreary bathroom, similar to so many he had seen in his lifetime. Only the necessities nothing more. The shower was hardly more than a water nozzle and a drain in the floor. He had taken off on the ship to look for Kakarot before they had installed a shower door and now that he had returned, he hadn't allowed anyone into this area of the ship to improve it.

He turned to face the mirror that was bolted over the sink and he could barely restrain his smirk. Here too she had installed a camera so she could watch him as he showered. What a little minx. Apparently she was fed up with him getting all the fun and she wanted to see what she was missing. He was thoroughly amused by her antics and he was more than pleased to appease her. Besides it helped advance his own cause.

He stepped away from the mirror turning his back to face the shower. With one smooth motion he stripped his training armor, allowing it to fall in a careless heap to the ground. He stretched his arms around his front, flexing the muscles in his back to loosen them as he walked towards the shower, silently choking back his laughter.

Bulma stomped into her home office in high dungeon, scattering assistants on her way. Although this wasn't her official VP office in the main building there were still CC employee's who worked in this area. Everyone knew better than to interrupt her after she stomped into her office, slamming her door on the way.

She was still dressed in her coveralls, forgetting to change out of them in her anger. She shrugged as she sat behind her desk, figuring could change after she checked to make sure she was getting a visual on the cameras she had installed in Vegeta's room.

She flipped on the monitor and keyed up the cameras, receiving her first images. Bulma's jaw almost hit her desk when she saw Vegeta move fluidly towards his shower, his bare buttocks clenching with every step. The muscles in his back rippled and Bulma was so enthralled that she didn't notice when she moved closer to the screen to get a better look. Every inch of his skin was bronze, even where she expected him to be a little paler. His skin tone was one hundred percent natural, no fake tans for this man.

He turned on the water and as he moved she could see the definition of every muscle needed for the action. There was not an inch of spare fat on him. There were only thee layers. Thick, heavy muscle on bone, overlaid by delicious golden caramel skin. Bulma mouth was suddenly dry and she leaned over without taking her eyes off the screen to pull out a soda from the small fridge built into her desk.

She popped the can open taking a deep pull as Vegeta stepped into the shower. He turned sideways and braced his hand on the wall by his head, allowing the stream of water to pound into his shoulders, the rivulets sliding down his back and chest before dripping off to swirl down the drain.

Bulma licked her lips again and took another swallow, watching with rapt attention as Vegeta just stood there without moving, posing like a solid bronze statue. After a few minutes his other hand that had hung loosely by his side began to move, rubbing circles over his chest and down his ribbed stomach. Bulma's pulse jumped, but she was ultimately frustrated by his stance. His leg was cocked up slightly, blocking her view of what she wanted to see most. He allowed the water to stream over him and it seemed to her that he was only in there to rinse the day away and not to do any serious scrubbing.

She squint her eyes, trying to see through a thick haze, before realization kicked in. She slapped her hand over her forehead as the lens of her camera clouded up from steam. She set her elbow on the desk, resting her forehead in her hand while she watched the bedroom cam for any movement. The camera faced the bed and the limited view infuriated her. She made a mental note to go back into Vegeta's quarters as soon as she was brave enough and set up a few more cameras to give her a better layout. Especially in the bathroom. She would have to order some special lenses that were resistant to steam.

Her head jerked back up when she saw the shadow of movement off to the side of the camera. She inhaled deeply when Vegeta walked into her view, his back to her and a white towel firmly situated around his hips. This camera had the ability to zoom in which she did on his back. She frowned when she saw numerous white lines littering his body which could be no other than scars.

She watched as Vegeta settled on the bed, his back braced against the wall with his knees drawn up loosely. He still had the towel wrapped around him, leaving the frustration to grow inside of Bulma. He leaned his head back staring up at the ceiling, his arm resting over his stomach.

She took the opportunity to examine his trim body. She had seen him without a shirt before, but never this relaxed. She could see the definition of every muscle, of every sinew and she was amazed at the amount of dedication it took to form his body into the unstoppable machine that it was.

Even as his body was curved into a slouch on the bed, his abdominal muscles were still perfectly proportioned, no bulge of fat to be seen. She watched as his fingers trailed absently along the indentations of his stomach and she saw something stir beneath the white towel. Bulma's grip on her can tightened as she realized that Vegeta was aroused by something.

Vegeta knew she was watching him. His keen hearing had heard the infinitesimal whirl of the camera as she had zoomed in on his back. He had faced away from her, uncertain of what he was going to do, but in the end he knew what he wanted. He laid back on the bed, positioning himself so she had the perfect view of his body. He leaned his head back, absently thinking about what attracted him to he blue haired wench.

She had spirit that was for certain. With all that fire that burned inside of her, she was sure to be a spitfire in bed. Her stamina would be nothing compared to his, but he would lay money that it would be exhausting to a human male.

Her ass was definitely a fine asset as well. He could watch her walk away from him all day. Several times he had to snap his eyes away before someone noticed that he was staring. As he watched through her balcony windows, the sheer ivory curtains whipping in and out of the room, blocking his view from time to time, he had marveled at the perfection of her body.

Everything about her was soft and rounded, begging to be touched by a man. Her skin reminded him of thick cream and he licked his lips with the urge to taste her. What would she taste like he wondered. Would she be smooth and sweet or would she be spicy hot? How he ached to run his tongue along her body and find out.

Bulma's wide eyed gaze darted from Vegeta's growing erection to his face and she was surprised to see his features lax in repose, his eyes firmly shut. If she wasn't mistaken, he was having a fantasy. She leaned back in her chair, but she just as quickly sat forward again. She was aware that her heart rate was increasing and she wiggled at the heat burning at the apex of her thighs in response to the prince.

The bulge beneath the towel swelled and Bulma swallowed hard, watching as Vegeta unwrapped himself. When he was finally revealed, the can that Bulma was holding fell forgotten from her numb fingers to the ground as her mouth rounded in shock. He was so much bigger than she had imagined.

He was thick, long and just as defined as the rest of his muscles. She watched in rapt fascination as he wrapped his fingers loosely around his erection, sliding his hardened flesh through his fist. He squeezed the large tip with his thumb and forefinger, before thrusting his narrow hips up off the bed. The muscles in his thighs and calves tensed while his abs rippled. As he pumped his hand his bicep bulged and chest flexed, giving her a visual overkill of the perfection of his body.

As he stroked himself, she wondered what he was thinking about. Was he fantasizing about her? About what she would be doing to him right now? Instantly Bulma became jealous of his hand, knowing full well she could do better. She imagined going down to his room, crawling between his legs and knocking that hand away.

The oxygen in the room became thin and her panting matched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Her eyes darted guiltily towards her closed office door while at the same time she partial unzipped her coveralls, allowing her hand to slip beneath the course cloth to caress her taut nipples.

In her vision she looked up to see his dark eyes glaring down at her, not saying a word, almost daring her to continue. Her mouth watered with the anticipation of tasting him and she knew that her mouth would feel so much better than his rough callused hand.

She watched as he continued to thrust into his fist, his eyes still tightly closed. The tendons in his neck stood out starkly as he clenched his jaw shut, his brow furrowing in concentration.

After these long weeks Vegeta could recall Bulma's body with intimate detail, down to the luscious bounce of her breasts. Her naked body would be the softest he had ever touched, he knew for certain. His cock hardened and he wrapped his fist around it tightly.

So many times he had imagined walking through her open doors, until he stood behind her as she sat primping at her vanity. She would try to talk of course and he nearly snarled at the thought. In his fantasy he pinned her down to the bed, stuffing the sheets into her mouth, ordering her to bite down. He spread her legs wide, her pale thighs quivering under his touch. He brushed a thumb over her swollen clit, testing the dampness of her body. Vegeta levered himself up by his hands, towering over her, allowing only the apex of their thighs to meet. Her body shivered under his and he watched as his cock disappeared into her wet pussy. He fucked her hard until she screamed, her tits bouncing with every thrust. He could feel the scratch of her nails down his arms as she held on to him for dear life while riding his cock.

Bulma was unaware of her actions as she lowered zipper to her crotch, baring her breasts fully to the air as she massaged them. She imagined what it would be like to take Vegeta's hard cock into her mouth, to taste the salty precum on his reddened tip. He was so big that she wouldn't be able to take all of him and she would have to wrap her hand around the base. He would pump into her mouth with a expression on his face similar to now only with a hint more rapture. Her other hand would trail down to between her thighs and she would tease herself as she fucked him with her mouth.

As she sat in her office, her real live hand found its way between her legs and teased her swollen clit. She sat back in her chair spreading her legs wide so she could feel everything. Once again she glanced at the door, certain that any minute one of her employees would walk in, or worse, her father.

She looked back at the screen to see that Vegeta was pumping his hand faster, his muscles flexing with the effort. Bulma panted as the tight coils of frustrated pleasure wrapped themselves around her lower spine. Her toes curled when she imagined Vegeta hauling her up by her hair and urging her down on his thick cock. His fingers digging into her hips as she slid down his length, taking every inch of his engorged flesh into her. She rode her fingers as she rode him in her dream, fantasizing that his hands roved over skin, touching her everywhere.

She teetered on the edge of bliss and her mouth sagged open as she sucked in great panting breaths. She never took her eyes off the screen, watching as Vegeta's own body tensed with expectation. Suddenly his fathomless eyes snapped forward, locking with hers through the monitor. She hissed in shock, absolutely sure that he could see her through the camera. She couldn't stop the crest she was riding and she stared into his eyes as she crashed over the edge of the erotic abyss.

Vegeta felt the intense pressure gather at the base of his cock and he knew that was going to cum any second. He dispersed his fantasy, focusing his wavering gaze on the obscure dot above the TV. He wanted her to know that he knew she was watching. He wanted her to know that he was the one in control.

Bulma saw Vegeta's lips curl back from his fangs and she berated herself for the fact that she had no audio because she was sure he was growling. He jerked his fist and a splash white cream splattered onto his stomach and chest. He pumped his hand a few more times, his hips undulating in response.

Bulma sat there for a moment, her coveralls gapping open in the front as she watched the mysterious prince. He glared defiantly up at the camera for a few more moments before levering himself off the bed and snatching up the towel that had lain almost forgotten under him. She saw him swipe at his stomach before he walked off the screen, leaving her alone in her cold office.

She quickly zipped up her coveralls, grabbing some paper towels to clean up the mess left by her soda. Once she was finished, she turned off her computer and silently left her office with a great less aplomb than she had entered. She returned to her room to take a cold shower and change into more appropriate clothing.