Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Master of Desire, Slave to Lust ❯ Chapter Six ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. *smirk* I mean, after all it is a kid's show.

Big thanks to LisaB for editing this story and giving us a tasty lemony experience.

Chapter Six

Bulma was bone weary and aching for her bed. She hadn't slept for two days, and time seemed to have slowed to a complete halt at work. Beneath exhaustion and stress, her body was burning for release, but she had lain silently in her bed each night, unmoving and unfulfilled.

She sedately walked down the corridor towards her office while her assistant Amber trailed after her, outlining her appointments for the rest of the afternoon. She rubbed her brow as she opened the door to her office, her assistant right behind her. As she glanced up she felt all of her exhaustion flee as exhilarated panic took its place.

Bulma whirled around quickly, shoving Amber out the door, ignoring her indignant squawk, and her flying papers as she slammed the door in the girl's face. She locked the door, dormant instinct telling her that it was wise to do so. Bulma spun back around, her eyes glittering, and her previously pallid face flushed with anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she screamed through clenched teeth, remembering almost too late that although her offices had thick walls, they were in no way sound proof.

Vegeta smirked at her from his seat behind her massive desk. He was twirling a pen in one hand while the other was in his lap.

"It's time for another lesson, slave," he purred, his heavy lidded eyes burning with lust.

"Are you insane?" Bulma exploded as she stomped around her desk. She came to wide-eyed halt when she noticed what his other hand was doing in his lap. He was wearing his training suit, and Bulma could tell that he had just recently come from his capsule. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow and his musky scent filled her senses. While he had waited for her he had lowered his tight fitting pants around his hips, and stroked himself to full arousal. His thick cock jutted up between his strong fingers and she could see just a hint of bronze skin from his lean thighs.

Her eyes darted back up to his feral features, her mouth gapping open. "Pervert!" she hissed, and she whipped her eyes back to the door to double-check that it was locked.

He laughed at her, his amusement at her shocked outraged obvious in his dark eyes. Bulma stilled as she watched him. She didn't think she had actually seen him really laugh before. Sure, he was great at mocking snickers, but a true laugh was unheard of.

The sound faded away, and the intensity returned to his eyes. He kept her gaze as his hand slid sensually down his length. Bulma couldn't control the rush of heat in her loins that made her sensitive flesh feel heavy and ripe. He spun the chair to the side so he faced her, his legs extending out in front of him.

"Get on your hands and knees, slave," he ordered, his hand never slowing.

Bulma glared at him, but unconsciously her tongue ran suggestively along her lower lip. She wanted nothing more than to taste him, to have that hard, thick length between her lips and on her tongue.

"I don't think so. I'm not playing your game. Stuff yourself back into your pants and get the hell out." She turned her back on him defiantly. It was more to remove her view of his cock than it was to annoy him. She just couldn't trust herself.

"That's too bad. I noticed that your assistant outside was a pretty girl. I've always had a thing for red heads." His taunting voice was silky, and Bulma was flooded with images of red hair bobbing in Vegeta's lap.

She whirled around, her hands on her hips and her checks flushed with anger. "If you want tail so bad, Vegeta then you are just going to have to find it outside of Capsule Corporation. I won't have you preying on my staff like some sex starved wolf."

As she spewed her tirade at him, she couldn't help but to glance down at his hand. The flame he had built in her two nights ago had never fully died, and it flared to life as she watched him. She had trained her traitorous body to respond to the sight of Vegeta stroking himself, and now she was hard pressed to turn her natural inclinations off.

Vegeta shrugged dismissively, his muscular shoulders rippling under his shirt. "I can do that. I'm sure that I can find a willing woman downtown, maybe even two." He grinned lecherously up at her, and Bulma blinked at the thought of Vegeta splitting his resources equally between two women. Hell, the man could probably satisfy more if he was willing to try.

His full lips turned down pensively, and his dark eyes brightened. "But I only like training one slave at a time. I won't have any time for you. I suppose you could go back to fishing around in the lawyer pool and snag yourself a nice, toothy shark."

He was mocking her lack of success on her last date. Not to mention the threat hung unspoken in the air again. Yes, he could find his entertainment elsewhere, easily it seemed, but she would be back to where she started. Recklessly dating unsuitable men, looking for one who could make her feel a fraction as good as she did with Vegeta. An impossible task, she was sure.

Worse, he wouldn't touch her again.

The room grew silent as Vegeta allowed her to contemplate her situation. She resented the Saiyan more than she thought possible. She wasn't a weak willed person, but he was bending her in ways that she didn't even know was possible. She should view him as an addiction that needed to be broken. After all she had quit smoking, how hard would it be to quit Vegeta?

His thick fingered hand slid up his hard shaft again, his thumb flicking over his tip to capture some glistening pre-cum. Her nipples hardened and amazingly her mouth flooded with salvia. If she didn't know better she would think that she was looking at a plate of flame broiled steak.

Prime, Grade A, Beefcake.

What was one little blow job? She had wanted to do that since she saw him lounging on his bed the first time through the camera. She had been so disappointed when he hadn't allowed her to taste him that hot afternoon. Her thighs quivered, and her knees grew weak. She licked her lips, already tasting the salty essence of him. Besides he was doing it all wrong. No lubrication. He was going to chaff himself like that . . . .

Vegeta watched the beautiful woman's internal struggle with hooded eyes. He knew that he was pushing his luck, but he thrived on the thrill. He didn't really want to seek out some other female to satisfy him. He wanted her ruby lips on him.

His entire body was taut with expectation as she weighed his words. If she called his bluff, he would be ass out and honor bound never to touch her again. He couldn't believe the amount of obsessive need that thought evoked in him. He knew that he was only using her for sex, and that he had no emotional ties to her whatsoever, but he didn't like the idea of being denied of what he considered to be his possession.

She was wild yet and still in the breaking stage, but once tamed she would make the perfect bed slave. He had already developed a taste for her body, for her spirit, and he wasn't willing to give her up so soon.

When she had left, he had been first amused by her defiance, then irritated. As the days progressed, his anger had simmered into a slow burn. She had just learned her first lesson: that she craved his touch. Then she had disregarded it and run from him. Now she needed to learn her second lesson: that she could not survive without it. He was going to become an addiction in her blood that was impossible to purge.

He wanted to crow with victory when he saw her body relent towards him, but he contained himself. She knelt down before him, and he watched with predatory intensity as she reached for his cock. He released his own grip as her slender fingers wrapped around him. Her hot breath feathered over his tip, and all thoughts of domination and submission flew from his brain when he felt her silky tongue slide against him.

He gripped the armrests of the plush chair, careful not to shatter the wood frame under the padding. His head fell back against the headrest, his tan throat flexing as he swallowed. Her mouth felt like paradise, hot and moist, erotic and sensual, fulfilling his baser animal needs.

Bulma nearly sighed in contentment when she finally sank her mouth around his thrusting cock. It tasted exactly how she expected it too, salty and feral, raw and primal, just like Vegeta. She worked her way down his length, testing the limits of her endurance by seeing how deep she could take him.

He hit the back of her throat and her gag reflex contracted. Belatedly she remembered to breathe through her nose and relax her muscles. She took him a little deeper, but ultimately he was too long for her. She withdrew slowly, swirling her tongue around the ridge of his crown, her blue eye peeking up under her bangs to glance at Vegeta.

His head was lolled back and his jaw tight with strain. She heard the sound of leather being scrapped by strong fingers and she briefly worried about the safety of her chair. She dipped her head again, sliding her lips and tongue down his shaft, imitating an exquisitely slow act of sex.

Vegeta's hips shifted and Bulma knew that he was struggling not to buck towards her. She teased him with her tongue, daring him to lose control and ravage her. She wanted to feel his lips on her throat, his hands on her breasts, his cock thrusting inside of her. She wanted to control him for a change.

He wound his fingers around her hair at the base of her skull, and Bulma mistakenly thought that he was urging her to a faster pace, but instead he pulled her away from her treat. She reared back, her ruby lips glistening with evidence of the pleasure she had wrought. She met Vegeta's black eyes defiantly as she wiped her mouth slowly on the back of her hand. He smirked in response, and her blue eyes glittered with lust.

He pulled her to her feet, and with one hand he swept her desk supplies to the floor, ignoring the loud crash. He hoisted her up on the desk with a powerful ease that left her panting. With one hand on her chest he pushed her back to lay prone on the desk while he rucked her skirt up around her hips.

Bulma almost groaned with despair when she realized that today of all days, she had chosen to wear nylons. She felt Vegeta's fingers slid along her inner thigh until he reached her waiting clit. His touch burned her to the core, and she was equally glad that she never wore panties with her nylons.

Suddenly his mouth was on her, his tongue lapping at her threw the sheer mesh of her stockings. She arched off the desk in surprise, spreading her arms across the mahogany expanse so her fingers could curl around the edges for support.

His tongue attacked her ferociously, and she moaned deeply in the back of her throat. Her smooth soled shoes kept sliding of the polished desk until finally Vegeta looped his arms under her thighs to support her. Distantly, she laughed at the fact that both she and Vegeta were still fully dressed.

A knock on the door choked off another rising moan in Bulma's throat. Her big blue eyes shot towards the door, but Vegeta ignored the interruption in true predatorial fashion. He already had his prey pinned, splayed and ready to eat. He wasn't letting her up anytime soon.

"Ms. Briefs, are you alright?" her assistant asked from behind the closed door. "I heard a crash."

If Bulma thought she could get away with it she would have kicked Vegeta. Her vindictive thoughts were swept away by the sound of rending fabric, and the suddenly cool air that invaded her damp clit. Before she had time to think, Vegeta's tongue was back, teasing her now naked flesh through the hole he had created in her nylons.

"Ms Briefs?" her assistant repeated, and Bulma swallowed to find her voice.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Please go back to your desk, and don't bother me again."

Bulma felt more than heard her assistant retreat, and she sighed in relief, but that was quickly turned into a keening moan as Vegeta sunk his fingers into her tight channel. She was so close she could taste it in the back of her throat. She arched towards him, her fingers stretching for his hair.

He stood up before she could reach him, and she watched as he wrapped his fingers around his thick cock to guide it inside of her. Her hand flew back to its earlier grip on the side of the desk, lifting her hips to meet him.

He slid inside of her completely with one thrust, filling her to the brim. She anchored her body the best that she could on the slick desk, reveling in the animalistic thrill of having him ram into her. He gathered up her hips to hold her closer and she felt the dam that held back the raging torrent of her climax crack.

And then there was nothing.

Vegeta heaved inside of her a few more times, falling forward to brace himself on the desk by her head. She opened her eyes to meet his mocking gaze, his cruel lips curling into a wicked smile. Bulma's mouth gaped, partly from stunned awe and partly from anger. She had never in her life met a man who could control his climax at will. She knew from previous experience that he could contain himself for hours, HOURS, but this was done purposefully. He made damn sure that she knew it. Until she came home, he would get the pleasure he wanted while she sat stewing in her own juices. Literally. Fast on the heels of that recognition came anger.

"No! No! NO!" The denial rose in pitch as her eyes narrowed, and her face flushed red. Without thinking she lashed out, pounding his muscular shoulders with her small fists as he loomed over her.

As she thrashed under him, she became aware of an out of place sound. Horror struck as she looked up to see Vegeta chuckling down at her, thoroughly amused by the tantrum she was throwing.

Once he saw that he had her attention, he stilled his mirth to speak to her. "Are you going to come back now?"

"NO!" she screamed in his face with all the rage that she had contained in her small body.

The entire time she had fought, Vegeta hadn't moved, but now he tangled his hands in her hair, holding her head still as he leaned his weight on his forearms. As he shifted Bulma became acutely aware that he was still lodged tightly inside of her, and she wasn't necessarily done with him yet.

She watched wide-eyed as his considering gaze wondered down over her face to rest on her lips. He lowered his mouth to hers, brushing his firm lips over her soft ones gently. She became as still as a hunted doe on a grassy plain, too afraid to scream, too excited to move.

His tongue slid across her lower lip, begging for entrance, and instinctively she parted to let him in. His tongue swept inside, not arrogantly, not demandingly, but sweetly tentative. He explored her depths, his tongue caressing her invitingly, coaxing her to play with him.

He had only kissed her once before, and that had been when she had asked him too. That kiss had been possessively dominant, branding her with his passion and marking her as his, but this was completely the opposite.

He wasn't controlling her or overwhelming her. He was begging her, pleading with her, loving her.

His hips slowly moved to the rhythm of his tongue, sliding forward ever so slightly to remind her that he was there. She felt the banked fires of her lust heat up again, and her blood boiled. He broke away from her mouth, his lips trailing along her jaw until his hot breath tickled her ear.

"Come home," he whispered, and her thighs tightened around him in response.

She pulled herself out of the spiral desire that he was dragging her into, trying desperately to regain herself. She knew that if she returned home she would cease to be Bulma Briefs, the woman on top. She would become a slave to the most dangerous man in Kami knew how many galaxies. As tempting as it felt, she was not ready to give herself away to the devil. Not when she still had the strength to fight.

He surged inside of her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Her reply came in a pant between parted lips.

"No." Her heart stopped beating, and when he nuzzled her neck almost apologetically, the paralyzed muscle clenched.

He withdrew from her slowly, his eyes shielded from her. He stood above her, tucking himself in his pants as he looked down at her.

"That's too bad," and without another word, he turned on his heel and strode from the room, leaving her abandoned on her desk. She gasped at the ceiling for a moment before she slowly rolled to her side and slid off the desk to dejectedly look for her phone.

Amber, Bulma's assistant looked up as a virile male stepped unexpectedly out of her boss's office. He flashed her a purely sensual look of manly confidence as he strode down the hall, leaving her to watch the hypnotic ripple of his backside as he walked away.

A catlike grin appeared on Amber's face as the explanation for the crash she heard earlier stepped into the elevator to descend to the lobby. She was not at all surprised when Bulma buzzed her on the intercom, asking her to cancel the rest of her appointments for the day.