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It was a brisk Halloween evening and Bulma had spent it alone in her home within the sprawling Capsule Corporation compound. This was definitely not how she usually spent big social holidays. In Halloweens past, she had found herself at nightclubs wearing the cutest costume that would set the trend for the following season.
Of course, in those years past she always had Yamcha to escort her. This served a dual purpose: she enjoyed his company and he would act as a buffer against unwanted attention, especially of the male variety. Unfortunately, as the years went by it became more and more obvious that his attention towards her had become lacking in favor of the slutty pumpkin at the bar. She sighed as she recalled this fact of their relationship; frankly it surprised her she hadn’t broken up with him sooner.
As it stood, she found herself on the oversized couch in her plush living room. The doorbell had long ago stopped ringing for costumed trick-or-treaters and Bulma had made herself comfortable with a giant bowl full of the remaining candy. She took well-enough care of herself that she could afford a treat or two. Or three. Maybe four...certainly five small pieces would be fine…
As she crisply snapped off a piece of a chocolaty Kit-Kat bar, she wondered absently if she ought to turn off the compound’s entry lights. On Halloween, these lights served as a beacon, attracting the pint-sized bundles of mostly-cuteness in costumes ranging from expensive to homemade, repetitive to original and inventive. Sometimes not-so-savory types would show up as well. Bulma couldn’t stand it when some teenagers literally drove-up to her door and, wearing only the most rudimentary attempt at “costumes,” shoved pillowcases under her nose and demanded she hand over her “treats.” The double-entendre was not lost on her as they leered at her from behind their tacky skull-patterned balaclavas and she (almost literally) threw them off her doorstep. She popped another piece of Kit-Kat into her mouth and ultimately decided she’d do it later, hoping a few stragglers might show up to rid her of this extra candy before she lost control and devoured it all.
“Trying to pack on a few pounds?”
It was like he’d read her mind, Bulma thought in irritation as she turned to respond to Vegeta as he strolled into the room. “For your information, these are snack-sized portions. I can enjoy a few without you judging me!”
He stopped a few feet away from her, arms rising to cross over his strong chest. Tonight he was garbed in a black t-shirt and dark denims rather than his usual training attire that left him a half-naked treat dangled before Bulma’s covetous gaze. His eyes roved over the carpet in front of the couch, to the seat cushions next to her, over the bowl of candy--all strewn with now empty candy wrappers--and finally met her own. He smirked. “A few?”
“Whatever,” she bit out dismissively as she sank back into the cushions. “Hey, why don’t you help me out here?”
Vegeta’s smirk fell a bit as he looked into the bowl, sniffing the air slightly. “What the hell is this crap?”
“It’s Halloween candy.” At his blank look, she briefly explained the holiday tradition of dressing up to be scary for fun, or simply to be someone different for a little while, while kids who dressed up could go from house to house receiving candy. “So Mom bought far too much candy to hand out and now I’m stuck here eating all of it,” she finished. “I thought that this would be nothing for your Saiyan appetite.”
“It’s not,” he agreed, “but I don’t make it a habit of polluting my body with junk.”
“Oh c’mon, Vegeta. Yes, it’s not good for you but that’s why you only eat it once in awhile as a treat. It’s actually delicious. Here,” she said, plucking a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup from the bowl and unwrapping it. “Try this.”
She held it up as far as she could without actually standing up. For a moment, Vegeta hesitated, simply staring at the confection while the thin chocolate shell began to melt over Bulma’s fingertips. Just when she was about to relent and eat the candy herself, Vegeta caught her wrist between his fingers in a firm but not ungentle grip and swooped down to take the candy into his mouth, his eyes locked on her own as he did so.
As his lips closed over her fingers, Bulma shivered in unexpected pleasure. He sucked the partially melted chocolate and peanut-butter creation into his mouth, but before Bulma could drop her hand, his tongue darted out to lick the pads of her fingers, gently cleaning them of the remaining chocolate. She could scarcely breathe as she watched him do so, reveling in the sensation of his tongue licking her fingertips one by one, the sensation spreading through her body at light speed and heading straight down to her core.
“A treat indeed,” he murmured as he released her hand, eyes glinting mysteriously. Without further comment, he made his way towards the doorway.
“Where are you going?” Bulma asked, only a hint of breathlessness entering her voice.
“To train.”
And with that, he quit the room, leaving Bulma flustered and frustrated and with only a pile of chocolate to keep her company.
****
It was an hour later and Bulma had decided to get into the “spirit” of things by turning on a horror movie to address her boredom. She was still upset with Vegeta for doing...whatever that was...to her earlier. She couldn’t decide if he knew what he was doing or if it had been purely accidental. The bastard probably did it on purpose, she thought, because there is no way he wasn’t aware of how it would affect me. That man is observant enough to put Google to shame.
Keenly aware that she wouldn’t be figuring Vegeta out anytime soon, Bulma decided to focus more on her movie. It was getting to a good part anyway. After becoming lost in the woods with some other, now deceased co-eds, the heroine had managed to evade the chainsaw-wielding serial killer long enough to make it to a cabin owned by a handsome park ranger. Unfortunately, the serial killer showed up shortly thereafter and the heroine and park ranger had been dodging deadly encounters and their own sexual tension ever since. Now it was time for some resolution between them..
Oh, Bulma knew it was tropey and cheesy and awful but she couldn’t help that she was a sucker for that kind of thing. She found herself paying rapt attention as he confessed his feelings, admittedly born of their intense life-threatening situation, to the heroine who reciprocated enthusiastically.
Now this was about the time when Bulma usually shut off this movie. Anything beyond this scene just didn’t interest her because she just wanted to imagine a happily-ever-after while ignoring how horror movies usually play out. So she’d just stop watching rather than see the killer spring into the intimate moment, bloody weapon in hand, and carve up the love interest before the heroine’s very eyes. This time, however, she kept watching.
Sure enough, the chainsaw murderer burst into the scene and immediately went after the heroine. Even though she objectively knew this was coming, it still managed to startle Bulma half to death, prompting her to sit ramrod straight on the edge of the cushions.. She continued watching as the park ranger heroically flung himself upon the killer and was gruesomely disposed of while the heroine clumsily attempted to flee. It was all downhill from there and, while the heroine eventually escaped, the killer remained out there, ready to terrorize again.
By the time the credits began to roll, Bulma had collapsed back into the couch cushions in a bit of a stunned stupor. There was gore and scariness and then there was this movie, which had amped it up to eleven in the climax. It seriously made her question her cinematic tastes.
The living room was suddenly plunged into darkness. Bulma heard the whirr click! of electronics and mechanics powering down and halting as their energy source was abruptly cut off. Then backup batteries began to engage on the various appliances around the home, letting out soft and irregular beeps to indicate the power was off. As if I didn’t already know, she thought as she bolted upright in the darkness.
If there was one thing that honestly and truly frightened Bulma, it was the dark. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, maybe because it was how out of control it felt being robbed of her ability to see, but all she knew is that she would die if she didn’t get some light soon. She took deep breaths, willing herself not to panic. “It’s just a power failure,” she said out loud. “You’re in your own living room, nothing is going to get you.”
Just then, she heard faint tapping sounds coming from elsewhere in the home. She mentally ran through a list of possibilities, from pipes to the wind, and settled on the most irrational explanation possible: an intruder.
“Who’s there!?” she called out. “Mom? Dad?”
No reply.
“That’s right,” she recalled. “They went out to their annual Spooky Science Halloween gala. How could I forget?”
There was faint light filtering in from outside and Bulma carefully made her way to the windows. Upon looking outside, she realized this entire wing of the compound was out, including the outside lighting.
More tapping, followed by a pronounced cracking noise. It seemed to be nearby.
Oh Kami. “Vegeta!? Is that you?” she cried as her head whipped around, eyes unseeing. It would be just like him to scare me like this! “If it’s you, Vegeta, please stop. Please!”
Again, no reply from the dull blackness around her.
She snapped her head back towards the window to look out across the lawn. Sure enough, the reddish glow emanating from the windows of the gravity room told her it still had power and was currently in-use, its occupant probably unaware of the power failure outside. On the positive side, those stand-alone generators she installed on the GR last month were working. On the negative side, it meant it wasn’t Vegeta stalking around her home. That thought ratcheted up her tension levels considerably.
For all that Vegeta might bluster and threaten, Bulma was absolutely secure in her knowledge that he’d never actually hurt her. In fact, she felt fairly certain that he’d protect her from any and all threats, if for no other reason that her continuing usefulness to his mission of becoming the strongest fighter.
It was with this last thought in mind that Bulma determined that her best chance at survival meant getting to the GR and Vegeta.
Hesitantly, she moved away from the windows and her only source of light. She knew she would have to pass the couch to get to the exit and move on to the closest exterior door. As she shuffled forward she nearly tripped over a dislocated couch cushion that she had apparently knocked to the floor in her earlier haste. She couldn’t see well enough to go around or step over it, so she stooped to move it out of her way. Her hands landed on the bowl of candy, however, and just as she stood to move that out of her way, she heard a distinct crash come from the hallway. Something had been knocked over and that meant that someone was nearby.
Bulma decided, then and there, that she was absolutely done with this shit.
Without thinking, she clutched the bowl of candy and practically leapt over the fallen cushion. Unable to see clearly, her body moved on muscle memory alone around barriers and into the hallway. She didn’t even turn to look into the blackness, focused as she was on reaching the exit as quickly as possible. The faint outline of the door seemed to separate itself from the dark and she flung herself against it, fumbling for the doorknob with one hand while the other absently clutched the candy bowl. She finally caught it and turned, tumbling through the doorway and out into the night.
The moment her bare feet hit the cool grass of the lawn Bulma broke into a run, making a straight dash to where the GR hummed complacently. She dashed up the steps to the hatch and subsequently fumbled over the keypad to disengage the gravity and remove the lock. “Calm down, Bulma,” she grit out as she made a fourth attempt to input the code. “Vegeta is right there; nothing is going to happen to you.” When she missed it again, she gave up and used her free hand to simply bang frantically on the door. “Vegeta! Open up! Hurry! Please please pleaseplease….!”
After what seemed like an eternity, the red lighting turned soothing yellow as the gravity returned to normal. Shortly thereafter, the heavy hatch swung back to reveal Vegeta in his sweaty, half-clothed Super Sexy form, angry scowl firmly in place. “What the fu--”
Bulma didn’t wait for his greeting; she simply pushed by him and into the GR. Between being in the GR with lighting and his presence, she finally felt safe again.
Vegeta turned to follow her, ready to berate her for interrupting him, but his plans changed when he saw her face. Her skin was pasty white, her eyes still wide with her remembered fear, and the corners of her mouth were pulled downwards in a tense frown. Borrowing an expression from the humans, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Instead of his his tirade, he demanded, “What’s going on?”
Bulma absently clutched at the front of her neck as she responded to him. “I was watching a horror movie when the power went out. I swear to Kami I heard someone in my house and so I ran out here.”
He cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her. “What makes you think someone was in the house?”
“Because I heard someone! They were shuffling around and even knocked something over and I couldn’t see anything--”
Her tirade was cut short when she heard Vegeta scoff. “So that’s it. Your weak human senses couldn’t detect anything in the dark and your overactive imagination--”
“I was not ‘imagining’ anything, Vegeta!” she cried, tossing the bowl of candy to the ground in frustration.
“--led you to believe there was an intruder. And now you’ve come to me, looking for a hug,” Vegeta finished smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest.
His words made her feel like a child, laying bare her fear which she had carefully concealed from her friends. Even Goku didn’t know. She couldn’t help the tears of shame and embarrassment that sprung to her eyes and quickly turned away from Vegeta’s judgement, dashing her hands up to swipe away the drops of moisture.
She wasn’t quick enough, though, for he had seen. The expression of superiority dropped from his face as his confusion and, if he were honest, his concern mounted. This wasn’t the reaction he expected nor wanted. They had traded barbs over the course of their...whatever it was they had...but never had he knowingly brought her to tears. He was at a loss, his mind churning with something to say to get things back on track, to bring out the feisty woman who set his blood to boil in more ways than one. “You are being irrational,” he said at last. “You have experienced more life and death situations than most humans and, even with the odds stacked greatly against you, you survived. Why should something so insignificant upset you so?”
He’s right, of course, she thought. Mere darkness when I know I’m safe at home is insignificant compared to traveling to another planet full of galaxy-destroying megalomaniacs. Still…”I--I don’t know,” she sniffed, finally composing herself enough to face him again. “I like to know everything, to have all the answers, to be able to analyze my environment and see what’s coming. In the darkness, I am helpless. I can’t do what I normally do, can’t even to pretend to defend myself from...whatever might be lurking. I hate it; I dread it.”
As Vegeta listened, he found himself sympathizing with her. To be disabled and helpless in such a way was indeed an unsavory prospect and one that he frequently worried about while under Frieza’s “care.” However, one could not be ruled by such fears.
“Oh Kami, Vegeta!” Bulma suddenly closed the distance between them, her hands coming to rest on his well-formed biceps. “Please don’t tell anyone about this. Only my parents know, nobody else, not even Goku. I don’t think I could stand the jokes about grown-up Bulma being afraid of the dark.”
His dark eyes met her pleading ones and he huffed. “Feh. As if I would talk to those morons.”
“Thanks, Vegeta,” Bulma replied with a wan smile. Her head turned back towards the GR hatch which had remained open during their chat and she seemed to stare out into the darkness outside.
“Still think there is an intruder?” Vegeta asked, his tone mocking.
“Yes!” Bulma’s eyes snapped back to his own. “Why wouldn't I?”
“Because if there were, I would sense his presence.”
“Oh? Maybe his ki is too weak and he is therefore beneath your notice!” Bulma bit out as she stepped away from him. “Kami knows I am,” she muttered to herself as she shifted her gaze to look anywhere else.
Vegeta felt the loss of Bulma’s touch quite keenly. He hadn’t realized how pleasant contact with her soft skin could be until, over the course of the last few months, she’d begun dropping light touches onto first his clothes and then later his bare skin. Compared to his own, her skin at its basal temperature was cool, but it was refreshing to feel it. There were times when he’d been in a fit of pique and her touch on his forearm had been downright soothing. He wanted to capture that feeling and bottle it up for him to use on those terrible low days when he felt as if he couldn’t do anything right. Like right now, apparently, for it seemed like his words to her were see-sawing between his own version of comfort and outright offense and he couldn’t figure out how to tilt them back to the former.
His mind latched onto her muttered statement, something he was certain wasn’t meant for his ears yet he picked up anyway with his Saiyan hearing. Without thinking, he reached out for her, gently catching her bicep and, with his opposite hand, crooking a finger under her chin to lift her gaze to meet his own. “Is that what you think?” he asked, voice low and serious.
Bulma froze the moment Vegeta’s warm fingers wrapped around her arm. He rarely, so very, very rarely, touched her, and he’d never touched her face. The mood in the room abruptly shifted, becoming tense with deeper meaning. This was all untrodden territory between them and she didn’t have a map. “Why wouldn’t I?” she answered softly.
Vegeta was taken completely aback by her statement. How could she think that he did not notice her? That he did not notice the flash of her pale throat, the hitch in her voice when she was genuinely upset about something, the way she flicked her fingers against her thumb when she was lost in deep thought, that she’d practically kill someone for a perfectly crafted slice of tiramisu? Or her boundless intelligence and attention to detail when she created new gadgets to help him train, the way she would think of things even he wouldn’t have imagined that would make his efforts more effective? Her wicked, wicked tongue that would lash him so good that he’d keep coming back for more? What about those things that a man couldn’t help but notice? Her delicious curves, shapely legs that seemed unending, breasts and buttocks that were firm and perky, a thick mane that he could just bury his fingers and face in, and her eyes. Her eyes that reminded him so much of Earth’s fathomless oceans, so unlike anything he’d seen anywhere else in the galaxy. One moment placid, the next stormy with anger, then later bright with excitement over a new idea or affection at seeing someone important to her.
Had he ever been favored with that bright gaze of hers, he wondered as his mind stuttered over that last observation. Images flew through his mind, things he’d seen but paid no attention to...and there. It was there in his mind, her face as she explained an upgrade to him, as she gifted him with new armor, as he walked into the kitchen looking for a meal, as she watched him polish that gifted armor, as she observed him from her balcony on those rare days that he preferred to train in the open air on the lawn. Had he really been so self-absorbed as to have failed to notice that this bizarre, frustrating, magnificent woman noticed him?
“Vegeta?” Bulma’s uncertain voice broke into his thoughts and he was hypnotized by her lips as they formed the syllables of his name. Unbidden, his thumb lifted from its place against her chin to trace over their pillowy softness and he couldn’t help but wonder, not for the first time, what those lips might taste like, if he would be cut on her sharp tongue if he dared to kiss her?
Did her dare?
He took in her open but confused expression, the flush of her cheeks, her shallow breathing as if she, too, were being just as affected as he by the shift in atmosphere between them. This impromptu encounter had exposed feelings and made him examine things about them that he likely would not have done in a hundred lifetimes. He felt like a barrier between them had been breached. Why stop now?
Oh yes, he dared.
Bulma didn’t have time to react as Vegeta’s hand on her chin abruptly slid back to cup the back of her head and draw her to him. He stooped slightly as his lips collided with hers in a powerful kiss that sent her mind reeling. He softened and moved his lips over her urgently but gently, almost hesitantly, as if testing her reaction. How could she do anything other than melt into him, this man who had been the subject of her dreams for so long?
She moaned softly in her throat and Vegeta answered with a muted rumbling of his own. Is this really happening? she thought as his tongue traced the seam of her lips, begging for entry. Her mouth opened to him and he licked his way inside, tasting the sweetness and warmth found within. His arms moved to wrap around her torso, bringing her flush against him, while her own arms wound about his shoulders, her hands delicately tracing up his neck and into his hair.
The darkness, vague notions of intruders, and indeed the world outside of the GR were completely forgotten.
Vegeta trailed kisses along Bulma’s jawline, sucking briefly on her earlobe before tasting his way down the side of her neck to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He lavished her there, licking and suckling gently until she was sure there would be a bruise. She was becoming lightheaded with the pleasure of his physical attentions as well as with the potent notion of this being Vegeta in her arms, his velvet skin beneath her fingertips, doing his utmost to please her. Vaguely she reflected on her choice of wardrobe; the light spaghetti strap top was giving his mouth easy access to large amounts of her heated skin.
His hands slipped up her sides and beneath her shirt as he continued to favor her neck and shoulders with his lips and teeth and tongue. She could feel their searing warmth on the skin of her belly, her ribs, and soon through the fabric of her bra as he cupped her breasts. Oh Kami, she loved having her breasts touched, she thought as she felt him slip his hands beneath her bra to trace her hardening nipples. She gasped in pleasure and gently pushed at Vegeta’s shoulders in an attempt to signal him. She wanted her shirt off and Vegeta’s mouth on her breasts right now.
Well, she’d get half of what she wanted.
By now she was getting weak in the knees and Vegeta eased her down to the floor of the GR. It wasn’t the most comfortable location for potential love-making, but Bulma was beyond caring at this point. He laid her out on her back and crawled over her, supporting most of his weight on his elbows while his hips settled over her own. A new rush of heat crawled over her skin as she felt the evidence of his interest in their activities pressing into her thigh.
Vegeta was intoxicated by the taste of her skin, yet there were other things he wanted to sample, too. His hands explored her breasts, testing the roundness of them, their fullness, and delicately stroking the hard points of her nipples. He pulled away from her neck to trail kisses down over her decolletage while his hands simultaneously pushed up on her shirt and bra, revealing her full breasts to his gaze. He felt a rush of moisture flood his mouth at the sight of the pale round orbs topped by succulent pink nipples. He’d often fantasized but nothing in his dreams could match the treats before him. He cupped her breasts again, running his thumbs teasingly over the swollen nipples until he heard Bulma’s panting whines above him. He drew one nipple into his mouth, sucking lightly, and her hands lifted from his shoulders to twist into his hair, holding him in place and encouraging his attentions.
Her nipple tasted like the finest liqueur, the flavor melting over his tongue in a way that sent jolts of arousal straight to his already hardened cock. His tongue flicked and swirled over the tip as his other hand continued its attentions on her other breast. Soon he’d switched sides, this time opening his mouth wide enough to draw in most of the end of her breast, licking and suckling greedily, unable to get enough of her taste. Bulma writhed beneath him, moaning his name and unable to find a place for her hands as they fluttered in his hair and over his neck and shoulders.
For her part, Bulma thought she’d come just from this. His mouth felt so amazing...warm and soft and supple as he pleasured her. As good as it felt she wanted more. She wanted to taste his lips again, wanted to feel him between her legs, wanted to explore and taste his skin. She tugged on his hair and he allowed her to pull him away from her breasts and back up to her mouth. His eyes, she noticed upon closer inspection, were dark with lust and flecked with golden brown highlights. Beautiful, she thought as she drew him down for a kiss, their tongues sliding together within their mouths. She wondered if her own eyes were dark with the desire she felt for him, if they conveyed the heat and wetness she felt between her thighs caused by this man and no other.
As if he were reading her mind, Vegeta’s hand wandered down over the flat of her stomach and to the waistband of her shorts. With a flick of his wrist he easily popped the button off and slid his hand inside. Bulma couldn’t contain her gasp as his fingers slid between her legs and over the saturated silk of her panties to touch her core. Her hips rose against him automatically, and she moaned into his kiss as he began to circle her swollen nub with his fingertips.
“You’re soaking,” Vegeta murmured between deep kisses. His voice was thick and husky with arousal and the only response Bulma could muster was to moan softly and buck against his hand. “I want to see you.”
WIth that, he pulled away and moved down her body. She was briefly disappointed when he removed his hand from her core but when she saw him pulling at her shorts to drag them down her legs and off her body, she knew patience was indeed a virtue that would soon pay off in spades. When he finished and he had moved his face to hover over the juncture of her thighs, her most intimate place still concealed by the wet mint-colored silk of her panties, she drew her bottom lip into her mouth with a hiss and bit down, completely arrested by the sight of Vegeta’s lustful gaze on her.
He hooked his fingers into either side of the thin straps of fabric reaching over her hips and pulled, the silk giving easily under his strength. He pulled the scraps away from her and tossed them away, his gaze fixed upon the neatly groomed thatch of cerulean hair covering her womanhood. With one finger he traced the length of her slit, coating himself in her arousal. His eyes met her own as he growled “so incredibly wet,” before he brought the digit to his lips and proceeded to lick it clean. “Delicious,” he declared softly.
“Vegeta…” she murmured, just before he proceeded to lick her slit from base to peak. “Oh Kami!” she practically shrieked, her head falling backwards and her back arching. He spread her thighs wide, placing her legs over his shoulders as he proceeded to taste her deeply, parting her folds with his fingertips and laving his tongue over every inch of her. His lips found her swollen nub and sucked, his tongue flicking and circling against it and driving her absolutely insane. “Oh Kami, Vegeta…” she moaned as she latched her fingers into his hair.
Little did she expect that there would be more. Suddenly she felt soft but potent vibrations against her clit and her ears picked up a low rumbling noise coming, apparently, from Vegeta. He also slipped two of his thick fingers into her dripping channel, curling them to press against that perfect spot.
Her release struck her like a lightning bolt, her voice crying out Vegeta’s name as she bucked against his mouth and hand. He was unrelenting, though, pumping his fingers and continuing his alien purring against her until she couldn’t take it any longer and began to weakly push him away.
Vegeta disengaged with a last, savoring lick. He sat back on his haunches and when she saw his face again she could see the clear evidence of her pleasure coating his lips and chin. With a smirk, he brought the back of his hand up and wiped himself clean before licking the remnants off of his hand. Her eyes trailed over his bronzed chest, his own master craftwork, slick and glistening with perspiration. She desperately wanted to taste him and sat up, whipping her shirt and bra off and tossing them away. Her eyes continued their perusal of him, following the line of his chest down over his chiseled abdominals, below his waistband and finally stopping at the large bulge she found there. He had done so much for her, she thought, while completely neglecting himself. Well, that was about to change.
She stood and beckoned Vegeta to do likewise. Clearly puzzled, he did so and she pulled him into her embrace, drawing his mouth down into a deep kiss. She could still taste her own essence on his tongue and she wondered if next time (she hoped there would be a next time) he might offer his fingers to her rather than cleaning them himself. Her hands slid over his powerful chest and down over his ribs, lightly tracing over the many scars that littered his body, some more pronounced than others. His skin shivered and jumped under her touch and she kissed her way along his jaw and down his throat, tasting him. “Vegeta,” she sighed, “you’re so beautiful.”
Vegeta allowed his head to loll back as her soft lips and tongue explored his neck. Her words filled his mind, for never had he heard such a preposterous notion. Him, beautiful? He was a warrior, bred and bloodied. His body was a testament to the evidence of his many victories, his survival. Never once had he given thought to the look of his skin or teeth or hair beyond his fitness for war. It was those warriors in tarnished armor who were battle-proven. His hands landed on her small waist and he explored her hips, the dip of her back, committing the feel to memory as she pressed full-mouthed kisses and gentle bites to his throat and chest. When she reached a scar she would trace it with her tongue before favoring it with a kiss and moving on. Him, beautiful? Maybe in the way that a finely constructed sword is beautiful. He’d allow this woman her illusions.
Her hand traced down around his tight navel and flirted with the waistband of his black training shorts. He imagined her dipping inside, her small hand wrapping around him and easing some of his painful arousal. She seemed to hesitate, though, and Vegeta let out a frustrated growl. “What are you waiting for?”
Bulma looked up at him, the picture of innocence. “Waiting for?” she questioned, her fingers tracing along the waistband.
“Yes,” he bit out. “Are you going to keep going?”
“Keep going to what?”
Vegeta could play her game. She wanted him to say it? He’d say it. “My cock,” he rumbled. “I want you to touch me, stroke me with that soft hand of yours.”
Her eyes darkened at his words. “Oh, I can do better than that,” she said, her voice pitched low and filled with promise. Her fingers hooked into his waistband and she descended to her knees, pulling the shorts with her. Her gaze followed his shorts down to his feet, where she untied his sneakers and carefully removed them along with his socks and shorts. When she finished, he stood before her in his all his naked glory. For a brief moment, she couldn’t breathe as she admired him, the vee of his slim hips meeting the juncture of powerful thighs, crowned with the pillar of his cock, the tip weeping lightly. She couldn’t help licking her lips at the sight.
She brought her hand up to touch him, reveling in the fevered velvet of his skin over his hardness. He was thick but not too thick, long but not too long, she observed as she wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke him gently. She used her thumb to spread some of the fluid from his weeping tip around for lubrication. She felt Vegeta’s hands moving over her, one onto her shoulder and the other to twist into her hair. She leaned forward and flicked her tongue over his tip, tasting a bit of his seed. Oh merciful Kami, she thought as she favored him with another, broader swipe of her tongue over his swollen head. His taste brought to mind sinfully salty sweets, pleasures to be rationed and enjoyed rarely. She wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock and sucked him into her mouth, moaning softly at velvet texture of his skin over her tongue, and decided she would indulge in him as much as he would allow. His hand stroked and petted her hair as she bobbed her head, using the flat of her tongue to pleasure the underside of him while she wrapped one hand around the length of his shaft that would not fit into her mouth. Her other hand gently cupped and stroked the heavy, silken globes that hung beneath. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together as her arousal peaked. She was certain she could orgasm from this alone, his looks and taste and scent were just that tantalizing.
Vegeta wound his hand into Bulma’s hair, groaning and purring as she worked his cock expertly. He looked down at her, watching as she bobbed over him, swallowing his length between those perfect lips again and again. He felt himself beginning to thrust into her mouth, his peak quickly approaching. He would not allow himself to release into her mouth, not this time (and he was certain there would be other times). He wanted to be buried deep in her tight channel when he found his release. He pulled gently at her hair, tugging her away from him. She looked up at him, clearly disappointed in the loss of her treat. He smirked down at her, gratified that she found him so desirable (though of course she would! He is the Prince of Saiyans, after all). He knelt down with her and drew her into a deep kiss. “I want you,” he said against her mouth. “I want to be inside of you, to hear you crying my name in bliss.”
“Then do it, Vegeta,” she replied between kisses. “I want this; I want you. Make me yours.” Somewhere in the fog of her lust, Bulma wondered what exactly it meant to belong to the Prince of Saiyans. Nothing would dissuade her from joining with him, though, she was too far gone. She moved to lay back when Vegeta stopped her, looping a strong arm around her back and pulling her towards him as he rocked carefully backwards to lay on the floor. He settled her on top of him, legs straddling his hips, his cock nestled firmly between her dripping nether lips. He placed his hands on her hips and began to slide her over him, his bulbous tip massaging her sensitive nub as he helped her coat him with her arousal. Bulma quickly followed his lead, dragging herself along his length, pleasuring herself as she did so. He felt just so damn good she almost didn’t want to stop when he halted her with his hands, but she knew the best was yet to come.
His eyes fastened on her own, burning coals that conveyed his sinful desires to her. She knew her own reflected those desires back at him as she leaned down to taste his mouth once more. She lifted her hips and he reached between them to guide himself into her, rubbing that swollen tip teasingly around her entrance for a moment before allowing her to ease herself down upon him. Kami, I’ve never been filled like this, Bulma thought as he stretched her almost beyond her limits. She lowered herself gently until he was fully seated and she was resting on his pelvis.
Vegeta smirked up at her, giving a gentle thrust up into her body. Bulma moaned in response. “Feel good?” he asked.
“Kami, Vegeta. You feel amazing,” she said as she leaned forward to balance her hands on his chest. She began to lift her hips up and down, adjusting herself to better position him to hit that sweet spot inside of her. When she found it...Oh Kami.
“So tight,” he groaned beneath her, lifting his hips to meet her thrust for thrust. His hands had settled again on her hips and he began using his vastly superior strength to lift and maneuver her for their maximum pleasure. Bulma felt almost lighter than air as he took her weight onto his hands while he continued to thrust with deep, powerful strokes into her body.
He watched as her breasts bounced with each of his thrusts, the pull and squeeze of her tight channel massaging his cock to perfection while her cries of pleasure filled his ears. He placed his feet flat on the floor of the GR to provide better leverage as the intensity and speed of his thrusts increased. He was so close, and from the way Bulma was writhing and flexing around him, she was too. “Bulma…”
She looked down at him, meeting his intense gaze, layered with the promise of days to come. He’d never said her name before, not once, and she reveled in the sound of it rolling off his tongue in his alien accent. Now he looked vulnerable, as if tonight he’d truly laid himself bare before her. She supposed he had, for him to drop his guard in this way, to admit to his attraction to her was probably a huge liability to him. Yet he had done it and no matter what came later she would never regret what they’d shared this night. “Vegeta…”
Before she could say more, one hand slid around to her front, his fingers practically attacking her fleshy nub. The pleasure of his cock filling her so perfectly, combined with the firm stroke of his fingers over her button and the intoxicating promise of tomorrow all came together to push her over the edge. She practically wailed Vegeta’s name as she soared into oblivion.
Vegeta felt her inner walls clamp down upon him, twisting him in a vise of agonizing pleasure as he met her release with his own, filling her to overflowing with his seed. He gasped out her name, thrusting spasmodically into her with such strength that he nearly lifted her toes clear of the floor.
Their shared orgasm slowly subsided, allowing Vegeta to rest his back once more against the unforgiving floor of the GR. He didn’t care how hard or cold it was, or that something was poking him in the back. His eyes were only for the woman now resting against his chest. His arms came up to envelop her and pull her more tightly to him. She reared up slightly, just enough to capture his lips in a lazy, lingering kiss before she nestled her head beneath his chin, the both of them well sated. Vegeta indulged himself in a moment of further tenderness, bringing one hand up to stroke her hair, reveling in its softness.
“Worms,” he said at last.
“What?” Bulma responded, completely baffled. Was he about to tell her he had some alien disease? What a way to end things!
“I can’t stand them. They’re revolting,” he continued, staring straight up at the ceiling.
Bulma mulled over his words for a moment before realize he’d just shared his own irrational fear with her. This simple gesture meant more to her than anything else and she felt her eyes dampen with happiness. She refused to make a big deal of it to Vegeta, though, knowing it would only embarrass him and make him regret telling her. She pressed a kiss to his chest and nestled back under his chin with a sigh of contentment.
After a short while, Bulma felt Vegeta tense. Voice thick with lassitude, she asked, “what’s up?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “Maybe the power is coming back on.” His head turned to look at the still open hatch. He gently moved Bulma off of him. “I’m going to check. You stay here,” he added as he pulled on his shorts. When she made to protest, he cut her off with a wicked smirk. “Can’t have you stumbling around in the dark and injuring that gorgeous body. I fully intend to enjoy you again and would prefer you to be in once piece.”
Bulma blushed scarlet and couldn’t find it in her to protest his logic since she really couldn’t see in the dark and, frankly, didn’t want to stub her toe or trip over lawn equipment. However, she couldn’t let him get away with that. She trailed her one hand over her breast and down to rest near her thatch. “Hurry back, Vegeta,” she husked.
Vegeta shot her a dark look full of promised retribution and left through the hatch, pulling it shut behind him. As he stepped out into the night, he reflected on his little white lie. The power was still out and there was no indication it would be coming back on. However, he had sensed something out in the yard and, with Bulma’s earlier worries in mind, he fully intended to investigate.
He scanned the area, his night vision being exceptional, sniffed the air and listened for anything out of place. So far nothing, but it was entirely possible that whomever or whatever was skulking around had a ki so insignificant as to be under his radar. His ears twitched as he heard a rustling noise to his left and suddenly his nose was struck by the scent of human body odor. Gotcha.
He immediately turned and locked on to the location, able to visually pick out a pair of figures crouching near the main house. Before the pair even knew what was happening, Vegeta was upon them.
It was two teenaged boys wearing cheap skull-printed balaclavas. They turned and regarded Vegeta with disdain. “You here to mess with us, man?” one asked, “Because we’ve probably got a hundred pounds on you.”
What a waste of my time, Vegeta thought. Bulma is waiting for me back in the GR but I have to deal with these fools first. Still, and an evil smirk graced his full lips at the thought, I will relish avenging her. “Really?” he responded to their pathetic challenge. “You think to take me?”
The intruders stood, and while they indeed towered over Vegeta, the joke would soon be on them. “C’mon, little man. Bring it!”
“Of course,” Vegeta said softly before he picked them both up and tossed them onto the roof. They landed with a satisfying thud as he flew up to confront them again. His lips and brows were pulled down into an expression of pure malice as he regarded them, arms crossed in his most intimidating Prince of Saiyans pose. “So, you invade my home and harass my woman. This cannot go unpunished. What do you expect me to do about this offense?”
The two teenagers stared at him, first in confusion then in abject fear as a small ki ball appeared in his palm and illuminated his face. The shadows danced across the planes of his visage making his threatening expression all the more fearsome. “Maybe I’ll vaporize you. Nobody threatens what’s mine. Nobody.”
Both boys burst into tears, begging him for mercy, to call the cops, anything but whatever fucked up thing he had planned. His nose was soon invaded with the scent of urine and he felt his job was done. He picked them up and flew them to the ground, tossing them a couple dozen feet across the ground for good measure. “If I see you around here again, I will kill you.”
The teens picked themselves up and took off running without looking back.
Vegeta peered back over at the spot they’d been fumbling around. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a circuit breaker box and every last breaker was flipped off. This is probably why the power was out, though I wonder if those pissants had anything to do with it. He flipped the breakers back into place and lights began switching on with satisfactory pinks and clacks. Soon the lawn was back to its normal illumination. He made his way back to the GR, looking forward to another round with Bulma. His woman, he’d called her. Was she? To be determined, of course, but, if he were honest, he didn’t find the idea to be so utterly revolting.
Bulma heard the hatch swing open and watched as Vegeta stepped back inside. “What’s the verdict?”
“The power is back on,” he stated, looking her over. She was still nude, much to his satisfaction, and bright-eyed with affection directed solely at him. He noticed she was picking at something on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“Come here,” she beckoned. “and sit down.”
He did as she commanded, reasoning that compliance was the fastest way to more sex.
She pointed at the floor which, he saw, was littered with smashed candy wrappers and melted chocolate. “You were apparently laying on top of a bunch of the Halloween candy I dropped earlier,” she explained as she moved around to his back. “There is chocolate smeared all over you. However,” she continued as she dragged her tongue over just such a smear. “I have a fantastic idea to get you all cleaned up.”
Vegeta growled softly as he felt her begin sucking and licking at his back while her hands drifted around to fondle his rapidly stiffening member. “You are a genius, after all.” he replied, happy to acquiesce to her “plan.”