Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Master of Desire, Slave to Lust ❯ Chapter Five ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: DBZ is not mine. It pretty much just goes down hill after that statement, doesn't it?

Chapter Five

Vegeta prowled the darkened interior of Bulma's luxurious room. Besides the other night, he had never given into the temptation to enter her domain, preferring to deal with her in his own territory, but tonight was different.

He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with her scent that was days old. She had been missing from the compound for almost a week now, her room empty and cold. She had run from him, scampering away like a thief in the night, leaving him utterly and totally alone.

Abandoned.

His fangs flashed in the moonlight and a menacing growl rumbled in the night. In the distance, a night singing bird stilled on its branch, its feathers ruffling at the immanent danger.

He stalked up to her dresser, pulling open her drawers. He swiped up a handful of silky under things, bringing them to his nose to inhale deeply. His eyes glittered with lust and the anger inside of him swelled. He filled his lungs with her scent, memorizing it for the hunt.

He would find her and he would punish her.

A golden comet flashed, and the bird hunkered down in fear as the predator streaked away in the star-studded sky.

To say that Bulma was hiding wouldn't be a fair statement. She was just taking a short hiatus. Generals in battle refer to it as a tactical retreat. A way to win the war after losing a battle.

Bulma had evacuated her room at Capsule Corp and installed herself in the V.I.P penthouse near the main offices in West City. This suite of rooms was used for visiting dignitaries or as perk for upper management. At the moment it was her home away from home, and most importantly Vegeta didn't know where she was at.

She crossed the room, tossing her wet towel over a chair as she made her way to the bank of windows overlooking the city. She had been hiding out here for almost a week, making herself right at home with the deluxe room service and fawning hotel staff. She looked out into the darkness, seeing the twinkling of city lights beyond the pale reflection of her naked body in the sheet of glass. She wasn't worried about any peeping toms at forty-five stories so she made no effort to cover herself.

She turned from side to side, examining her body for any noticeable changes that age may bring before sighing heavily, and making a face at herself in the window. Ever since she had left home she hadn't been able to concentrate at work. She was utterly useless in the office, and with every passing day there was a fiery ache in her loins that she could not douse. She had tried masturbating, teasing herself with memories of Vegeta's hard body, but she was always left frustrated and wanting more. It just wasn't the same without Vegeta there to watch her. She felt alone, perverted and dirty.

While in meetings she daydreamed of their hot afternoon spent together in his bleakly bare room under the training capsule. Her blood would heat and she would press her knees together as she recalled how he had fucked her long and hard until she had begged for him to stop. He had refused to yield until she had uttered the magic word.

Master.

With that thought her world would come crashing down, and her memories would be shattered by shame. Her face would flame red, and many times she had to excuse herself as she retreated back into her plush executive office to regain her composure. How could this have happened? How could someone like her, an authoritative business woman, a renowned beauty, and a self confident female be reduced to playing slave girl for an egotistical, chauvinistic bastard prince? And worse, she liked it. In fact, she craved it.

So she hid away in shame, certain that someone else beside Vegeta would find out about her perversion. That at any moment a news broadcast would be aired showing her with a dog collar around her neck as she begged on her hands and knees. Even if no one else was aware of her fetish, Vegeta still knew, and that was as nearly as unacceptable. No matter how good he made her feel she wasn't willing to play his game of domination and submission. She was Bulma Briefs, not some bitch in heat.

She stared hard out into the night, her eyes straining to see anything other than the yellow and white lights. She lifted her hand, her fingertips meeting her reflection, her twin trapped, cold and alone, in the night. She turned away, her mind wandering to the next day, and the work that waited for her at her office.

She felt more than heard a presence behind her, a rush of cool air that alerted her to an attack. She tried to dart forward, but she was too slow, and a rough hand encircled her fragile neck, pulling her back forcibly against a rock hard chest. She screamed, but the hand cut into her throat, choking her, bring tears to her eyes. Another hand wound its way around her ribs, gripping her breast possessively, but not painfully.

"You have been a very bad slave," Vegeta whispered in her ear, and she automatically sagged against him in relief only to stiffen almost instantly in dread.

Once he knew that she wasn't going to scream he loosened his grip around her throat and she swallowed harshly.

"How did you get in here?" she demanded in a hoarse growl.

He tisked against her cheek, and he tweaked her nipple, immediately jolting her into reality.

"That's not important, is it?" he questioned, and Bulma realized that how he had gotten into her room was inconsequential to the fact that he was there, touching her without having to be asked.

"How did you find me?" Bulma was amazed that he had appeared. She had thought for certain that he would never find her there or frankly, that he would even bother to look.

He leaned close, exhaling his hot breath on the back of her neck, heightening her fight or flight instincts. She was nothing but prey, caught under the paw of her natural enemy.

"I will always find you. I will track you wherever you go. Your scent is imprinted on my mind for eternity, and I always retrieve what's mine." His breath ruffled the fine hairs on her nape, reminding her just how close he was to her, and how vulnerable that mad her.

He ran his hand down the flat plane of her stomach, and Bulma realized belatedly that she was naked and fresh from the shower, while Vegeta was fully clothed. She could feel the warm caress of his garments against her cool skin, her entire body tingling at the knowledge. Her sensitive skin was able to identify the sensation of jeans and a wool sweater pressing against her.

"You don't own me," she countered, conviction sadly lacking in her voice.

His tongue traced her spine, lapping at a droplet of water that escaped from her damp hair. She shivered at the wet heat, suppressing the moan that gathered at the back of her throat.

"Your body says different, slave." He inhaled deeply, scenting her thoroughly, deciphering all of her secrets.

At the moment, she couldn't argue with his astute statement. Her body was indeed having a traitorous response to his very presence. It was a mutiny of mind and body, and presently her mind was losing.

"What do you want Vegeta?" Bulma asked bravely, her mind scattered by the hand that was nearing her swelling cleft.

"Hmm," he hummed against her neck as he nuzzled her hair aside. "Lets see. What could I possibly want?" Her skin vibrated, spreading goosebumps on her arms and down spine.

Bulma stiffened, her fists clenching at her sides. She knew better than to try to struggle, after all she was no match for the Saiyan, but it didn't mean she would take his abuse lying down. No matter how wonderful it was.

"Sex," she spat with derision. "You want sex, and you want me to call you master."

He smiled against her shoulder, and Bulma almost moaned as his tongue continued to languidly trace her skin.

"Well I'm not going to do it," she huffed steadily, proud of her resolve.

"What? You aren't going to have sex with me or you aren't going to call me master?" Vegeta asked reasonably. So reasonably that Bulma paused for a minute. She hadn't thought this far into the game. She was dead certain that she wasn't going to call him master again, but was she ready to deny herself sex with him? He really was the best that she had ever had. His touch was more addicting than any narcotic could ever be.

His lazy fingers finally found their way between her thighs, slipping against her already wet and swollen cleft. Even as her mouth was saying no, her body was preparing to fuck him senseless.

"I won't call you master," she stated carefully, unable to swear him off just yet.

"We'll see, but first there's the matter of you running off. You need to be punished for that." Unexpectedly his fangs sank into the ridge of her shoulder, and she yelped in pain, jumping away from him. He held her flush against him, her small frame melding perfectly into his.

"Punished!" She yelled loudly, knowing that no one besides Vegeta would hear her in the soundproof hotel. "You can't punish me, you beast. I haven't done anything wrong."

"Slaves are not allowed to run away from their masters." Vegeta declared hotly, spinning her around so that her torso was pressed up against the icy sheet of glass facing out towards the city. The pane waved, and Bulma felt a moment of panic before the rage overtook her.

He held her prone with one strong hand at the back of her neck, his fingers banding tightly around her. Rage well up inside of her, and she twisted her head to the side so that her cheek was resting against the glass.

"I'm not your slave, and you sure as hell aren't my master, you sadistic prick."

He didn't respond, instead, he closed the distance between them in one single stride, pinning her thoroughly. He nestled himself against her, and Bulma unconsciously arched away from the cold glass towards his overwhelming heat.

He nudged his knee between her slender thighs, lifting her heels off the ground as he lodged himself against her throbbing core. Her nipples were rock hard from the cold press of the glass, and when his warm hands reached around to cup her breasts her muscles relaxed in relief. He lifted them in his palms judging their weight before brushing the pads of his fingers over her taut nipples that were aching for his touch.

Bulma was unable to keep her contented sigh from escaping her. She had fought for so long for him to touch her, and when he had, it had come at an unreasonable price. So she had run from him, hiding without his touch for days, longing for him endlessly. Now he was there, touching her without hesitation, soothing her cravings.

He nuzzled the back of her nape, his hot tongue sliding against her pulse as she lifted her chin higher to expose more of her pale neck. He pressed her against the thin window and just for a moment she gave thought to the fact that her entire body was exposed to the night. Her lush flesh was spread for display as he leaned into her and she didn't care one whit. Only the night flying birds would see, and if there was some pervert watching from two buildings away with binoculars then she wished him a good show.

His clever hand found its way between her legs to tease her silky flesh. She lifted her hands, pressing them flat against the glass by her head. Her ruby lips parted and the pane fogged with her heavy breaths. His fingers slid along her wet cleft, enticing the bud to swell with desire. Without prompting she spread her legs wider, enjoying the gratifying sensation of Vegeta's fully dressed body that was emitting so much heat. She loved the erotic feel of the course fabric of jean and wool on her bare skin, scraping against her almost painfully.

One hand still cupped her ripe breast, and his fingers tweaked her nipple playfully as his tongue drew wet circles on her shoulder. His mouth trailed up to her ear, his hot breath tickling her.

"Do you like that?" he asked in a raspy whisper. "Do you like it when I touch you slave?"

His fingers plunged inside of her, robbing her ability to speak, and she could only whimper in response as she bucked against him. Her hands flexed against the glass, leaving palm prints from the cold sweat that was starting to coat her body. The faint passing of headlights from the traffic below reflected in her eyes, and she absently wondered if they had ever passed the night being fucked raw by an animal.

He bit her shoulder and her eyes rolled back at the sharp pang of ecstasy that engulfed her. All of her deep seated cravings came to bear at the caress of his hands. At that moment she didn't think she could live without his touch.

His fingers withdrew from her heat, and she cried out in protest. He chuckled darkly from behind her, and she shivered in response. She heard the rustle of clothing, and her pulse jumped when she realized that he was pulling his thick length from his pants. Instinctively, she cocked her bottom back, inviting him to sink into her. She hissed as his cock slid inside, her juices making his intrusion seamless unlike the first time.

He released her breast, bracing both his hands on either side of hers. He pushed into her, sheathing himself to the hilt, knocking forward. She struggled to keep her footing, to remain firm so he could plunge into her. He withdrew to spear her again and her nipples brushed against the glass before his heavy weight forced her flat. Her head dropped back, and he leapt on the invitation, his lips sliding against her pulse while she was cradled in his shoulder. She nudged her bottom closer to him, urging him to thrust faster, to fuck her hard.

He obliged her with long, hard thrusts, and the window shuttered from the force. Bulma's hands clenched into fists, and she closed her eyes as inescapable visions of the glass shattering entered her mind. She wondered what it would be like to fall through the air, racing the shards of glass to the ground as Vegeta thrust inside of her. She knew that Vegeta would never let them die, but the image was thrilling enough to increase her already racing pulse.

"Vegeta," she whispered, but he ignored her. Instead he removed his hands from the glass, reaching around to grasp her thighs. He lifted her up to her toes, spreading her flesh with strong fingers.

He was everything that she wanted in a man. Powerful, dominate and unafraid. He fucked her with raw intensity that ignited every cell in her body. For the first time in her life she was going to cum just by being fucked, and not by having her clit teased at the same time. With every thrust of his strong body, a keening moan rose up in her throat heralding her violent release that was teetering at the edge of reason.

Suddenly, Vegeta pulled out of her, his hard length abandoning her, leaving her achingly empty. She cried out, but he ignored her as he pulled her by the hair towards the huge bed, tossing her face first onto the mattress. Her icy torso was surrounded by the warmth and softness of her luxurious bedding. She felt a dip as he knelt between her legs, his masculine heat covering her once again.

Her entire body was strumming with need, and she writhed under him. "Please Master, fuck me." The words fell from her mouth without her consent or her knowledge. She was caught in the throes of intense wanting that could only be satisfied by Vegeta.

His swarthy laugh brought her vaguely to the surface of reality, dimming her pleasure subtly. She felt the rush of his hot breath on her spine and her skin contracted on her bones, screaming to be touched. She knew he was amused because she had broken her vow, but she didn't care. All she wanted was for him to finish what he started.

"How do you feel?" he asked maliciously. She felt the brush of his fist against her buttocks, and she knew he was stroking himself as he spoke.

"W-what?" she stuttered in disbelief, but she couldn't stop her body from arching back towards his.

"Do you feel alone?" He braced himself above her as the pace of his stroking continued.

"Abandoned?"

He spread her thighs with his weight as he leaned down to thrust himself between the cleft of her cheeks, teasing her with what she so desperately needed. She lifted herself in invitation while she tried brokenly to follow his conversation.

"What are you talking about Vegeta?" The burning need between her legs was driving her mad, and the brush of Vegeta's flesh against hers was only enflamed her more. She ground herself against the bed, trying to alleviate some of her pain.

"Do you feel..."

His voice dropped down into a silky whisper that curled around her, dragging her down into a pit of wantonness as she waited with baited breath for him to finish his sentence. She could hear the rasping pants of his breaths become deeper and more frantic, his body sliding against hers in distant sensuality. She began to realize that his movements were not for her pleasure, but his own.

"Punished."

The single word dropped down on Bulma with the force of a cannon ball, crushing her with its weight. It was accompanied by the devastating warmth of Vegeta's essence spurting onto her bare back, mocking her with its sudden presence.

Bulma sat beneath him, her mouth sagging open in disbelief. Had he just done what she thought he did? She blinked and the bed shifted as he moved away. She sat up slowly, turning to face him, her mind still drugged with passion and her body burning with need. Her wide eyes narrowed as she watched him tuck his sated flesh away in his pants, ignoring her as if she was nothing more than a five dollar hooker.

White hot fury rose up inside of her, and before a voice of reason could sound in her head she leapt on Vegeta with the vehemence of a wildcat. She unsheathed her claws, aiming for his eyes, screaming hellishly as her soft body collided with his hard one.

The air rushed from her lungs as she hit a solid wall, and before she had time to think she found herself flat on her back, her arms pinned above her head. She glared up at Vegeta's self-satisfied face, and she screeched in outrage. Vegeta's visage hardened, and he shifted his fists so he could release one hand to cup over her mouth, silencing her cries, while still holding her wrists prisoner.

His furious black eyes penetrated her skull, telling her on no uncertain terms that if she didn't shut up she was going to regret it. She stopped shrieking from behind his palm, but her icy eyes fried him with every passing second. Slowly, as if testing her resolve he removed his hand, watching her for any signs that she would start screaming. Bulma watched him retreat, her hot anger fading as icy rage settled in its place. How dare this man come into her room, take advantage of her need, and use her like a common whore. How dare he leave her aching with need.

"You fucking asshole," she hissed, and his smirk reappeared. His amusement only fueled her fury, and her entire body tensed with the need to disembowel him.

"What's the matter, slave? Feeling abused?" he purred sexily, and Bulma gritted her teeth in annoyance.

"Not in the least jerkoff," she spat in defiance. "Now get the fuck off of me, and out of my room so I can finish what you are so obvious not capable of completing."

Vegeta's eyes slit, and malice coiled in their depths. Bulma was undaunted, and she opened her mouth to spew more nasty slurs, but Vegeta was quicker. His hand whipped out to cup her jaw, his fingers pressing into the hollows of her cheeks.

"Listen up, slave," he rasped down at her. "You aren't to touch yourself or relieve your need in any manner. You are going to suffer until you come home where you belong. And don't think I won't know if you do get yourself off. I can smell it on you like cheap perfume."

His last sentenced stirred a whisper of interest in her. Were his senses really that honed?

"Do you understand me?" he finished in a harsh demanding tone.

She shook off his hand, fairly surprised that the let her. "Or what?" she spat.

"Or I will never touch you again." The threat was so simple, yet it hung in the air between them. How absurd, Bulma thought to herself. Most women would expect a more violent threat from a man like Vegeta, but his vow not to touch her was far more effective than a promise to beat her.

"Good riddance," she ground out, staring him in the eye without blinking.

A ghost of a smile whispered over Vegeta's lips, and a dark gleam shinned in his eyes that made her uneasy.

"We'll see," he replied, and before she knew what was happening there was a rush of air, and he was gone.

Bulma didn't bother to raise her head to look around her room, knowing that she would never see him. Instead she lay unmoving where he left her, staring at the vaulted ceiling of her hotel room.

Her body burned with heat, even more so after their confrontation. The zing of excitement of sex and fighting pumped through her veins until lower body fairly ached with the need to come. All it would take was a few seconds, and she would be relieved. Her hand twitched by her side, but it didn't move.

She stayed there, thinking long and hard about Vegeta's methods of persuasion. Obviously, in some twisted fashion he missed her or he wouldn't have taken the time to seek her out. He wanted her back as well or he wouldn't have gone through such lengths. Those thoughts alone warmed her, melting her icy rage.

A man as powerful as Vegeta could have forced her back. He could have used threats of violence against her or the people she loved. He was a clever man, and instead he had chosen a more sadistic path to get what he wanted, her total submission to his will.

He wanted to own her, but he wouldn't physically harm her. He was allowing her to choose what she wanted, leaving her alone to be crushed under the force of her own desires. Her greatest enemy was not the Saiyan Prince, but her traitorous body.

First, Vegeta had withheld his touch from her and now he withheld her pleasure. She wasn't sure which was worse. Her logical mind raged against the unfairness of it all. For the first time in her adult life she had found a man that was strong enough to satisfy her, but the cost was too high. She was not willing to sacrifice her inner self for a few hours of bliss. She would not allow herself to become someone else's property either in or out of the bedroom.

As her mind argued, her body burned and small place in her heart ached. She had always been on top looking down. She had never been a part of the crowd, only their leader. When Vegeta wrapped his strong arms around her she felt something she had never felt before.

Acceptance.

With Vegeta she felt like she was part of something, not ahead of it or on top of it, but actually immersed in it. Surrounded by it. Comforted by it. Adored by it. Desired and wanted by it. The only problem was that she didn't know what it was. It eluded her like a passing dream. It was real only in the moments that she closed her eyes, only to slip away under the harsh glare of reality.

She stared silently at the ceiling, lost in thought until the dawn crept in through the windows to comfort her, her hand completely unmoving by her side.