It felt like days were slowly passing by, but it had only been several hours since Bulma's unceremonious get-together with Vegeta in the infirmary. Having relocated to her lab, Bulma was working on the daunting task of trying to replicate Vegeta's armor, but she lost her focus on her work. She was reconsidering her actions, thinking that perhaps she shouldn't have enticed him, maybe she should have been just a little more patient. She was hard to contend with, stubborn and pushy, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. She understood and acknowledged that she was like this - she wasn't easy to deal with. And Vegeta knew he was contending with a spitfire woman, she was a little out of his league, and Bulma knew she could intimidate him. Especially with her sexuality.
But after today's earlier occurrence she wished she had not been so mean to him. She had made him so angry that he had snapped and had his way with her – she didn't mind the physical aspect of that, it hadn't been awful and she even thought it felt pretty good, and she was curious to go at it again. But it was his feelings and his pride that she was afraid she'd wounded. She felt bad for him, but most of all she felt sorry for herself. What if her lewdness scared him off, what if he would disappear again, or even worse, leave the planet and never come back, not even for the challenge of fighting the androids? The thought of something like that happening made her uneasy. She didn't want to lose him.
Bulma had since changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top, a more appropriate dress attire for working in her lab, rather than the short skirt she had worn when flirting with her grumpy house guest. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her limbs out and deciding to call it a day. She couldn't concentrate on her work, glancing every once in a while at a screen monitoring the activity of the Gravity Capsule. Seemingly Vegeta had resumed his training right after he'd stormed out on her, and he locked himself up in the GR for hours, training under a constant 1,000 Gs. Bulma worried that he was pushing himself too hard, but with the safety features she had installed in the Gravitron as well as a monitoring system she could see that his vital signs were reading normal. He was alive, at least.
She would have liked to contact him over the intercom to apologize, but she realized he was used to a solitary lifestyle; he needed his space, and she decided to allow him that. Eventually, she hoped, he would recover from his shock and anger and continue his pursuit of her.
By 6pm Vegeta shut the gravity simulator off, collapsing into the pilot seat of the GR, his body practically screaming for rest. It had been such a long time since he'd last pushed himself so hard, and he couldn't help but feel dissatisfied, feeling that he was falling behind. His mind swam with thoughts of the legendary strength he longed for, his desire clawing at him to surpass his rival. And his thoughts were very often interrupted by those annoying wonderings of that viper woman.
He respected her, that was unquestionable. Somehow she had managed to get close to him, which was a feat nobody had succeeded in before, and for that she gained his begrudging admiration for her. Even more bizarre was how he had allowed her to get close to him. While he did acknowledge that he was using her in the hopes of learning compassion and in effect to learn how to become a Super Saiyan, it wasn't entirely for his own strength that he needed her. She helped to fill that emptiness in him. He didn't fully understand why he relied on her for something trivial like that, to fill the void of loneliness that he'd long ignored, but it was convenient. He accepted that she was also useful in this way. And she proved to be useful at a lot of things. While she was loud and infuriating she was so damn skilled and intelligent, and she was interesting. And, of course, she was great at physically enticing him.
He had to wonder, if he did follow through with his carnal needs, would it be so awful if this woman would carry his heir? It was something he felt uncomfortable even considering. Bulma however did not seem to be worried about that happening. Maybe she was barren as he had guessed, or maybe she wouldn't mind. And why should she be bothered by something like that happening? She would have to feel privileged to carry and birth his spawn. Though he would see the act as an abomination and a disgrace to his race, Vegeta believed that his own primitive actions had been the most disgraceful of all. He'd lost control and he had forced himself on her, although he was most certain that his advancement had not been unwanted nor unprovoked and she hadn't disliked it. Still he felt shame for his own lecherousness, and even more ashamed that now, after having sampled her, he wanted to fully copulate with the woman more than ever.
She was definitely worthy of him, and perhaps she would also be worthy of rearing his offspring. While she was an Earthling, and while it would soil his Saiyan bloodlines, she was more than deserving to carry on his name. She was vigilant and so passionate and driven about everything she did, and he considered that she might be worth the risk. Nobody else deserved to be coupled with him, nobody but her, and he was more than confident that any child of his would be exceedingly gifted, potentially even stronger than the third-class dog's brat.
But Vegeta could not picture himself being involved in his offspring's life, if he would end up impregnating the woman. Until now he'd never dreamed he could become a father, he'd never considered it, though that was mainly because such a possibility had been unfathomable, given his unwillingness to open up to anyone and the lifestyle he had lived, enslaved and employed as a mass-murderer. He was free now, and free to do what he wished of with his life. And there was still the chance that he might not be able to alter his predestined future. He was fated to die at the hands of the androids, and then the Saiyan race would finally be extinct and forgotten.
A cold shudder of fear ran through him as he was filled with sudden dread at this thought. To think that if Goku ended up succumbing to that heart virus, the proud prince would be the only one left, the last of his valiant warrior race, and he was destined to die and to be forgotten. The thought actually hurt him deeply. His terror had once been legendary throughout the universe, the Saiyans had been notoriously bloodthirsty conquerors, and all had feared them. But they were all gone, everyone who had once feared the Saiyans had died out or been wiped from existence by Frieza or by Vegeta himself; he had obliterated the remnants of the Planet Trade and Frieza's army when he'd gone in space in his search of Goku. There was not one soul left who could even comprehend the feats and conquests of the Saiyans, centuries' worth of history and heritage would forever be lost.
But not by Bulma. She was open to learning more about the Saiyans, and more predominantly she wanted to learn about their last surviving prince. She was willing to remember the importance of his fallen race, and perhaps she would also be willing to help preserve his race and to keep it from dying out by offering her fertile Earthling body to him.
He sat there at the pilot seat in the Gravity Room, thinking about it for a very long time. Maybe it wouldn't be so awful if he ended up procreating with her. The thought of having a family was utterly foreign to him, strange and even disturbing for him to think about, something he couldn't picture himself partaking in, and he couldn't see himself becoming a parent and participating in the life of his offspring. It was an impossibility to him, raising a child and passing on his knowledge to it. Such a thought was almost laughable to him. He could never do this.
But he wanted what Bulma could give him, he wanted her to remember the importance of who he was, and he wanted to fornicate with her. If she ended up pregnant, he could condone it, but he would not personally contend with the result, he would leave her solely responsible for dealing with the burden. He would not involve himself with the resulting spawn, which would perhaps be better off for it. Any child of his he would undoubtedly neglect or mold into a monstrous being. But its existence would at least give his bloodline a chance from dying out. That meant everything to him. He didn't want his race to fall to extinction and to be forgotten.
He wasn't entirely sure on what he'd decided on, but there was one thing he was certain of – he wanted Bulma, but more importantly he wanted everything she could offer him; by that he particularly idealized what she could do to satisfy him physically. He could not avoid her any longer, and the risk of conception was no longer threatening enough to keep him from wanting to consummate what he had with her.
He wasn't at the dinner table as the Briefs family ate their meal together. He hadn't even made an appearance in the kitchen at all that day, which was odd, as he was always hungry and prowling about for food. Bulma's mood was on a steady decline. She was worried, and it pained her to think of the shame Vegeta must have felt.
A frown sat on Bunny's mouth. She was very sad at not having her favorite freeloader in the room with them. She loved feeding him her cooking, and this evening she had baked some pastries that she had wanted him to try. "I wonder where that pointy-haired hard worker has run off to?" she observed aloud in a sad tone.
Bulma cringed at her mother's words. Hearing 'pointy' and 'hard' in the same sentence to describe Vegeta immediately brought her back to the memory of what they had partaken in.
"Perhaps he's watching the baseball game that's on," Dr. Briefs suggested. "The Taitans are playing tonight, didn't you know, Bulma?"
She wasn't listening, not that she would care to know that her ex-boyfriend's baseball team was playing live on national television. She was thinking about how she would need to explain to Vegeta the Earthling practice of contraceptives that he was not familiar with. She didn't look forward to explaining birth control and sex to a temperamental grown man. While his aloofness was humorous to her, she worried about how he would respond when she would have to confront him. She knew she would probably need to resort to running her mouth and making a few snide remarks to get her point across, while he would likely backlash with comments about how lewd the human race was. And the subject of birth control was especially lewd and graphic. She was aware that he would likely respond by being horrified, disgusted, and offended.
She'd already had to explain the topic to Yamcha years ago, because the poor fool had never taken a sex ed class – and it had been an awful occurrence for her. He'd been immature about the whole thing and he became queasy at Bulma's thorough detailed explanation. He'd fared no better with his performance in the sack, it had been uncomfortable for the both of them. She didn't want a repeat of that with Vegeta.
After finishing dinner she went back into her lab to check Vegeta's vital signs, and she was surprised to see that the Gravitron wasn't in use. Once again she thought about contacting him over the intercom, but she decided against the notion, leaving her lab with another purpose in mind.
Vegeta knew that facing her was unavoidable, especially now after he had confessed that he was interested in her. But he didn't expect the confrontation to happen so soon.
It had been a physically and emotionally exhausting day, and his weariness took its toll on him. All he wanted was rest, and he was not as alert as he normally would have been. He didn't sense her energy signal approaching until it was too late as he was crossing the threshold of his bedroom. Realizing the confrontation was inescapable, he could do nothing but quickly curse his lapsed awareness and his poor judgment. He should have stayed in the Gravity Capsule overnight.
She had treaded through the hall and now she leaned in the doorway of his room while he kicked his shoes off. He would have preferred to give her the cold shoulder, but he forced himself to glare at her. Another poor decision, as he was almost bowled over. Did this damn woman always have to go out of her way to look as appealing as possible? He appreciatively saw that her body was more covered up, though her hair was gently tousled and slicked back out of her face to reveal her stunning features, and that discomforted him; she was far too beautiful and he was quickly intimidated by that enchanting face. He took his eyes away from hers to look at the jeans she wore, and he immediately wondered if she was or was not wearing any underwear underneath them.
She surveyed him with equal scrutiny. He was haggard and worn, it was apparent that he needed rest. She reevaluated her decision, wondering if maybe she should have waited a while before talking to him, but it was too late to turn back now.
In this weakened state it was instinctive for him to be defensively aggressive, he would normally have insisted she get lost and leave his room. But he fought against the urge to retaliate against her, instead asking in a quick and hostile low growl, "What do you want now?" He couldn't tell if she'd come here just to talk, or if she wanted sex; he couldn't smell that pervasive odor of an Earthling woman in heat on her, though he accredited his dulled senses for his inability to catch that scent. Not that it would make a difference. He knew this woman was always fertile and she could be roused into heat at the drop of a hat.
But he could not sense any distress from her, and he didn't doubt that at this moment she was fearless of him. He was astounded that she had the guts to seek him out and approach him after what he had done. What an impressive level of fearlessness and bravery she had. His anger melted away and an odd lukewarm feeling of pride swelled up in him, but for the first time in his life it was pride not entirely for himself. It was for her. He was surprised by his own feelings, but he did not contest them.
Bulma stepped away from the doorway and she moved further into the room. Vegeta didn't fail to notice that she closed the door behind her, and he grimaced, thinking, I knew it! She came here to pester me for another pounding! What a vulgar being she is! But he offered no complaints, and he allowed her to remain in his territory. She was not out of place, it wasn't as if she didn't belong here, because, after all, he felt she was rightfully his now.
He kept his body turned away from her, and she freely looked him over. She chose against hassling him about his injuries, she didn't want to unsettle him or drive him away, so she opted to open the conversation on a lighter subject, hoping to put him at ease and to get him to be comfortable. "I'm guessing you haven't eaten since breakfast. I saved some dinner for you, it's in the fridge. Are you hungry?"
He stalked into his bathroom, grinding out a hasty "No." Bulma followed him, though allowing him his distance, staying in his room while he cleaned himself off with a towel, wiping away the sweat and the bloodstains caked into his skin. Bulma felt bad for him. She would have liked to attend to his injuries herself. She couldn't help but voice her concern, "Do you need a hand?"
He instantly envisioned her doing something else with one of her hands, and he cringed. Did this woman always spew innuendos so carelessly? He glowered at her. "You haven't answered my inquiry, woman. What have you come to harass me for?"
She wanted to apologize for her earlier lewdness, but there was no way her dignity would allow her to take the fall entirely. Vegeta had done something just as lewd, and Bulma saw that they were both equally to blame. She chose to forget about what had happened and to move forward. She sat down on the edge of his bed, and he frowned at this. After sighing she said calmly, "Look, I feel like I owe you an explanation. But first I want you to know that I'm not mad about what happened."
He finished clearing the blood away from his body, and he tossed the towel to the floor. He left the bathroom to approach her and he stood above her, arms crossed, glaring down at her. "Is that all?"
"No," she admitted, "I wanted to talk to you about, well, you know."
The expression on his face was a cross between a scowl and an uncomfortable wince. What a horrid thing to discuss! But he allowed her to speak her mind, as he wanted to know these things. He was glad that he didn't have to ask, she had come here to explain it to him. It was uncomfortable, but he was relieved.
"You're afraid I'll get pregnant if we go through with it," she said bluntly.
He snarled before snapping back, "I am not afraid, nor do I care if it happens. If it does, you will be the sole bearer of the resulting burden. I will take no part in it."
"Well it's not going to happen! I probably should've told you this earlier. I don't know about you aliens, but here on planet Earth we have ways to prevent pregnancy."
"As I should have suspected," he said, giving a silent sigh of relief that went unnoticed by her, but of course he had to make a snide remark, "It's no small wonder then that someone as lewd as you doesn't have a dozen offspring running around at your feet."
"Do you have to be so crude?" Bulma said. "Listen. I've been on the Pill for years, it's a very effective form of birth control and it has never failed me. So you don't need to worry about knocking me up." More so to convince herself she added with a smile, "I know you're concerned about me, but just relax. Do you want to know how birth control works, if you're still not convinced or hesitant to take our relationship further?"
"I don't care to hear the details," Vegeta replied, cutting to the chase, "Clearly there's something else you want from me. You weren't satisfied with the earlier pounding I had given you, and you've come back for more. You certainly are a glutton for punishment." He couldn't admit that now he was the one who looked forward to it. After Bulma had confirmed that there would be no risk of pregnancy involved he wanted to copulate with her immediately. If he'd known that she couldn't get pregnant, he would have slept with her sooner. While that desire to preserve his race was still in his thoughts, what he wanted the most was what he could get out of this Earth woman, anything else was pushed into the far reserves of his mind. He was not at all opposed to fornicating with her now, and he decided he may as well make up for lost time.
Bulma hesitantly said, "I'd be okay with it, just as long as you want it too. What do you think?"
"I view the act as a waste of my time," he said, stubbornly refusing to admit that he wanted it so badly now, and by evading her he was hoping to provoke her into initiating it.
"Well, I want it," Bulma said, trying to mask the blush on her face at this confession. With confidence she added, "And I know you want me, so I guess I'm just going to have to make you admit you want it too!"
He felt his blood coursing through him, but he willed himself to not let it show. Her determination impressed him, and it was also an immediate turn-on. He couldn't resist any longer. "And how will you manage that?" Vegeta asked cruelly, struggling to keep his desire from being noticed.
Bulma shifted a little closer to the edge of the bed, reaching one hand out to graze her fingers along his abdomen, earning a shiver from him. "I'll do it if it'll help you grow more comfortable to the idea of sex."
He frowned as her fingers caressed his skin just above the waistband of his training shorts, and he could feel his scalp tingling. "Do what? Are you saying you'll blow me now?"
She pursed her lip. She would rather know that he would return the favor before doing this, but she wanted to get him to become comfortable with her. And she would not mind doing something that she knew he would enjoy. "You owe me for this. Like I said, I want you to warm up to the idea of having sex, even if it has to be a little at a time."
He was insulted. "I don't need to warm up to it! Were you not listening when I told you I'm prepared for anything?"
"I thought you said that only because you were trying to make yourself look like a tough guy, you know, so you could show off to me," she teased while with her free hand she reached into one of the back pockets of her jeans, and she pulled something out.
Vegeta watched her critically. "Just what the hell is that?" he demanded.
With both hands Bulma ripped open a small wrapper, pulling out a flimsy little pink object. She stretched it out, explaining, "Jeez, you really don't know? It's a condom. This also helps to prevent pregnancy, but I'm using it so I won't catch anything nasty from you. Here, let me help put it on."
"You are not putting anything pink on me!" Vegeta retorted, pulling away from her so he was just out of her reach.
"Oh come on! Don't be such a big baby!" She looked down at the vibrant piece of latex in her palm, wondering if it had been worth teasing him a little with her choice of color. "If you really don't want to wear a pink one I can go get a different color. I have some blue ones, and I think I have a few tie-dye and glow in the dark ones as well."
He didn't care how many colors she had, there was no way in hell he was ever going to wear one. "I am not disease ridden," he insisted, "You ought to apply your scrutiny to yourself. Have you caught any disgusting ailments from your weakling?"
She frowned. "No, I haven't. Maybe because you're a total prude you might not have any STDs, but you could give me a bacterial infection or something gross. I don't know how often you bathe down there."
"You dense woman! If anyone in this room is carrying any foul afflictions, it would be you. I guarantee you I am untainted, and I can also guarantee I will not wear one of those contraptions."
She paused for a moment, considering his words. She didn't think he would lie to her face about something like that. Besides, while she often teased him about how filthy she thought he was, she knew he had been keeping up his bathing routine lately. And she felt it would be beneficial to the both of them if she opened up her trust to him, and she wanted him to know that she trusted him. "Alright, I believe you," she said. "You don't have to wear one if you don't want to. Okay then, do you want to lie down while I do this?"
"You're not going to blow me," he said with finality.
"I said I will. You wanted this, and I want to do this for you."
"You misunderstand me. I don't want you to do it." He didn't want it not out of disinterest, he had been curious to try it. But not anymore. Though it had angered him, he respected Bulma's earlier decision to refuse to give him oral sex. And he wasn't about to have her give in after she had displayed such a strong will and resistance. He didn't want to ruin that image of her, and he didn't want to degrade her by having her perform fellatio on him. If they were going to do anything, he decided, it would have to be intercourse and nothing less. She deserved to get just as much enjoyment out of it as he would, though he could never tell her that he felt this way.
Bulma was confused. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't want it now, as he had asked for it earlier. "Why not?" was all she could manage to say.
Vegeta's mouth turned up into a mean sneer. "I don't trust you not to sink your teeth into me," he lied. "I distinctly recall you'd bitten me before, and I don't look forward to that happening again."
Bulma pouted, very offended by his apparent lack of trust in her, while she had openly given him her trust in him. "Oh, well in that case I guess I'll just leave you to yourself, then!" she said crossly, making a move to get up, but Vegeta kept her seated by pushing down on her shoulders with both hands. Bulma protested with a squawking sound, and he briefly frowned at hearing such a horrendous noise coming from her mouth. He crouched closer to her until he was almost kneeling, and he was at eye level with her, looming close and intimidating the heiress with his proximity. He placed his hands on the bed at either side of her legs.
"While I no longer care to gag you, there's something else I might find your body useful for," he said.
"Oh? For what?" she teased, directly evading him, "Live target practice during your training?"
"Don't play naïve. You know what I want."
She swallowed, her anticipation building. "You have to ask nicely first."
He wasn't in the mood to play along with her games, as he was instead in the mood for something else, and he was growing impatient. All he wanted was to lay his claim to her - and to get laid. He so looked forward to feeling her lithe and fragile body underneath his own rugged and worn form, and he did not care to engage in idle precoital chit-chat. Hoping to stop her taunts, and blinded by his own desire, he pushed her down into the mattress with the weight of his body against her, silencing any outbursts with a heavy kiss. Bulma was both surprised and delighted, and she didn't hesitate to reciprocate, the movements of her mouth quick and desperate, though she was quickly outmatched by the pressure of his forceful lips tasting her, greedy for more. He pulled away, neglecting her mouth to clip at the soft skin of her neck with his teeth, sucking tiny portions of her fragile skin into his mouth and biting hard, then running his tongue over where he had wounded her. He repeated the process several times on her neck before he moved on to her shoulders and her collarbone, before working his way down her chest, not caring that he was leaving visual evidence of his passion through the bruises he left on her skin.
Bulma assisted him in his conquest of her body by stripping her shirt off, and while she flung the article of clothing across the room Vegeta's teeth tore across her abdomen, and at the end of his route he bit into her hip. She jolted and belted out, "Ow! That hurt!"
He drew back, looking over his work, and at the same time freely looking her body over. He had left close to half a dozen marks on her, which he knew would bruise nicely. He decided he would need to add more. His eyes wandered up to her cleavage, which he had not yet charted. That soft round white skin looked very appealing, and he felt it would look much more flattering with his bite marks all over her flesh. He grabbed for her bra, and Bulma gave him a pleading expression, warning him to be gentle. He fumbled around with the material, confused by the tight straps trapping her bosom. He didn't care to know the proper procedure of removing a bra, and he was impatient. He ripped it open from the front, tearing the entire undergarment off of her in shredded pieces, while she writhed. Vegeta stopped for a moment to stare in awe at the sight of her bare chest, while Bulma groaned. How many of her clothes did he have to ruin?
"I said you needed to ask nicely, but you just helped yourself," she scolded, but she meant it half-heartedly. She liked his vicious spontaneity.
He took his eyes up to hers, scowling. "I don't ask for what naturally belongs to me." With that, he savagely resumed his work, biting into the side of one of her breasts.
Bulma shrieked and recoiled from the attack, yelling, "You rough bastard! Don't do that!" He paid her no mind, biting into her once more, though not as hard. She continued to complain, "Can't you be a little gentle? I'm delicate and fragile, I'm not tough like you barbaric guys."
Through a mouthful of her flesh he muttered, "Don't coach me. Do I look like I'm capable of being gentle?"
"No," Bulma answered, giving way to a laugh. Her amusement was cut short by Vegeta as he swiped his tongue across one areola before taking the nipple into his mouth, discreetly he did it as softly as he could manage, though he did involve his teeth, just a little bit. He kept his eyes on her face as he attended to the sensitive area, noticing how her breathing hitched into a tiny gasp and she winced painlessly. With one free hand he gripped her other breast while intuitively running his tongue over her teat, applying just enough suction and only light scrapes of his teeth along her skin to not hurt her. He watched her the entire time, learning what she liked through the subtle muscle spasms he could see in her face. He was very attentive, he knew how to read the signals given by one's muscle movements and what they indicated, subtle hints registering what was liked, and he applied what he learned from her reactions to please her.
Just as her voice broke out into a soft moan, he pulled himself away from her breast and moved up to stifle the sound she made with his mouth covering hers, kissing her with fervor while methodically reaching his hands to below her waist, undoing the button of her jeans. She assisted him in peeling them off, and Vegeta was mildly surprised to see that she was wearing panties this time, a nice black piece with lace, and seeing such a frilly little undergarment paired with her soft milky white skin built his anticipation up and made him tremble desirously. As soon as her legs were freed he kissed her again, at the same time he pushed his hand into her underwear, registering a light approving purr from her. Bulma reached for his training shorts, tugging on them and then sliding them down his thighs. She could feel the frown in his kiss, and when he pulled away she glanced down, smiling wickedly to see how much she had aroused him.
As Vegeta tried to peel her underwear off with impatient hands, he was astounded when the heiress hooked one leg around his waist, pulling him against her as she rolled him over so she was on top. He groaned at being treated this way, and also at the slight pain surging through his tired muscles. His pain was quickly ignored as he watched her arch her back, whipping her hair and running her fingers through it. She stared down at him with a commanding glare, letting him know she wanted to take the lead, and he visibly swallowed. Without his help she pulled her panties down by herself with one hand, the other on his chest, until the undergarment was free from her ankles and tossed across the room, forgotten.
She kept her eyes on him, and that was when she noticed how exhausted he was. He was breathing heavily, she could see the bruises and cuts marked all along his rising and collapsing torso, and his eyes, while piercing and filled with desire, were outlined with dark rings. She was concerned, and though she wanted to keep going, she asked, "You're tired. Should we do this some other time?"
While her genuine concern was heartfelt, he did not care that she was worried for him. Rather he was hating that she had noticed his fatigue – to him a weakness. He grabbed her hips and pulled her down so that his member was protruding along her folds, and he hissed in a raspy low voice, "Don't patronize me!" He was sitting upright now, his back rigid and his face pressing against her neck. He ran his hands around her to grip her buttocks, and she lifted her hips up and eased herself onto him, with one hand slowly guiding him inside her, sighing into her action, while she touched his chest with her fingertips with her free hand as she mounted him. She released a satisfied sigh once he filled her, and she smiled down at him. He had his eyes shut, concentrating on the feeling, though he had not seen it he could hear her smile radiating through the pleased sigh she had given.
He allowed her to be the initiator. She settled her legs around him, positioning herself, while he pulled her against him until he filled her completely, and she began a subtle rocking motion. Waves of pleasure were sent along his shaft when she bucked her hips against him, and she heard his approval in a quietly hissed sigh. She was encouraged to continue moving in a slow rhythm, adjusting her pace and transitioning into different movements. Vegeta kept up his scowling expression, but he was impressed. Sweat built up on his forehead, and every once in a while the corner of his mouth would twitch. He found it was very difficult to hold off his release with the way she expertly handled him and with her inner muscles crushing every inch of him. He didn't know this woman could generate such powerful sensations in him, and he was left wondering why he hadn't allowed her to do this sooner.
Bulma brought her torso closer to him and pressed her chest into his pecs as she increased her speed, her hands finding themselves wrapped around him while she clawed at the hair on the nape of his neck. He was close to his peak, his quick muscle spasms in his thighs and the slight convulsions in his torso were felt by her. She stopped grinding her hips against him, and he snapped his eyes open, glaring at her. Knowing she would anger him, she gave him a mischievous smile, critiquing through her heavy pants, "Can't you last longer than that? I'm obviously not done here."
To her delight he took the bait. He snarled and ground out tersely, "You're not even close to satiating me!" His words were accompanied by him roughly jerking his hips against her to get her to continue, and she nearly fell off him. He chuckled cruelly. Her clumsiness was hilarious to him.
She shot him a dirty look, but she regained her position and she kept going, and this time he moved with her so they were both actively participating in a combined effort, his quick thrusts colliding against her hips gyrating against him, though she was putting out more effort than he was. Vegeta was surprised at how long she could last while he was so worn and exhausted, and every once in a while pain spiked through his chest. And he was so close to reaching his pinnacle, but pride would not allow him to give in and lose face, he had to hold out and prove himself to her. It was no small feat for him, but he willed himself through it, staving off the release he so desperately wanted.
As he was managing to hold out, she was slowly falling to her own escalating tension, nibbling on her bottom lip and throwing her head back. Gradually he felt the tremors in her body and her breathing stop. Just as she was about to climax, she was interrupted by him. He purposely stopped and flipped her over, his shaft sliding out of her.
Angry that he had stopped her, Bulma managed to gasp out, "What was that for?!" She had been close to having her first orgasm in over a year, and she was very displeased at having it taken away.
To Vegeta it was payback, as she had stopped his own gratification with a condescending remark. Somehow it had turned into a sinister game of prolonging the experience and seeing who would give in, and now he intended to win. He parted her legs with his knee and repositioned himself over her, shifting his hips and settling himself between her legs, pulling himself along her until they were face to face, his chest a foot above hers and his hands fisting the bed sheets at her sides. The feeling of his breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine, as well as the eye contact he maintained while he slowly and calculatingly reached one hand between her legs and he ran his fingers along her inner thigh, waiting for her to give in to the unbearable torturous temptation he was issuing on her. He muttered as heinously as he could, "I promised I would show you a terror worse than hell, and I'm about to pound it into you. I'll be merciful and I will make this quick."
He had intended to be as cruel as he could be, pounding her so roughly and so fast that it would be unlikely that she would get much enjoyment out of it, and he intended to do it all for his own pleasure. He had these intentions until she looked him in the eye fearlessly, and she quietly said with a smile, "Do your worst. I'd expect nothing less from the mighty Prince of all Saiyans."
Feeling himself quiver, he stopped, hesitating from making his move at what she had said. Her words sent chills down his spine, they stirred something deep inside him, a sense of meaningfulness that he hadn't felt in such a long time. The command Say that again ran through his head and sat at the edge of his tongue, but he could not bring himself to say anything, so choked-up as he was at realizing just how lucky he was to have this woman, how fortunate he was to have someone who could read him so well and tell him the things he needed to hear and give him reassurances. She was so infuriatingly keen-witted to his needs and to what he desired, but at times like this he was glad for that.
Nobody addressed him by his rightful title anymore, nobody except her. And he found it was much more meaningful when she said it, along with the remembrance her words instilled in him, the sense of self-worth and purpose that he needed. For once he was glad for her loud mouth, of how she spoke these things without restraint nor guilt, and he needed this. He would give her everything she wanted if he could get her to say it again. It might have been for his own selfish pride that he would give her as much as he could offer, all to hear something that boosted his ego and fulfilled his pride, but he didn't consider it as selfish for a moment, thinking only of how much he owed this gracious woman who went out of her way to make him feel special and important. And now, he realized, he was important to her, as she was important to him. He didn't want anything more than he wanted her now. Pushing aside his thoughts of his quest to become a Super Saiyan, every other priority was forgotten by him as he looked at this woman panting underneath him and awaiting his next move.
To let her know he approved of her use of his title he chose to physically reward her – he would make her enjoy this as much as he would. He leaned forward and kissed her as gently as he could manage, applying the pressure of his tongue on her lip and eventually pushing it inside her mouth; he had remembered she said she liked kissing with her tongue. While he hadn't been comfortable with the notion, he partook in it all for her enjoyment. He found it wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought, her soft and gentle tongue timidly pressing against his in a pathetic struggle for dominance, which he found amusing as he quickly squandered her attempts by taking complete control, stroking his tongue against hers forcefully until she gave way and allowed him to explore her mouth. At having tasted his victory, he moved on from her lips to fervently kissing her along her jaw, moving on a path along her neck and making his way back over where he had left bruises on her with his earlier rough kisses, only this time he soothed the sting of each bruise with a quick sweep of his tongue along the discolored flesh. He felt her squeezing her fingers into his back as she breathed out his name in surrender, "Vegeta-"
"That's Prince Vegeta to you," he growled low into her ear.
It was barely audible, but she said what he wanted to hear, not above a breathless whisper, though her sassy tone read clear, "Alright, Prince Vegeta."
He could no longer contain what he felt, and there was no way he could speak of it, so he channeled his gratitude physically, leveraging himself and for a moment noting the imploring look on her face before his visual concentration was lost to him. He shut his eyes briefly to focus entirely on the feeling he received as he embedded himself within her, breaching her slowly at first until he drove in with one quick thrust. She whimpered at the slight discomfort, from this angle it was just a little uncomfortable. To accompany him she pushed against him with her hipbones, arching her back and lifting it from the mattress until she was at an angle where he hit her painlessly, sending only sparks of pleasure through her.
For the first few seconds he moved slowly, then he set his pace, quickening with much more force. He was bruised and battered, and it was a physically demanding task, requiring every bit of his remaining strength and his careful attention, for it was no longer his own satisfaction he sought in the act. He wanted to convey his message to her and to get her to remember that her words were important to him, so he paid close attention to her, feeling when her legs quivered and her breathing became frantic whenever he did something she especially liked and derived pleasure from. Not only in battle was he a careful tactician; he used his honed attentiveness now, recognizing and remembering what movements got her off, applying the knowledge and storing it away in his memory. He was wise and a quick learner, and he was discovering different things she liked, vowing to remember them well for use in the future.
She lifted her hips a foot off the mattress to capture every inch of him inside her, moaning from the effort and the receptive feeling surging through her core. He could practically feel her responding pleasure reverberating through him, sensing the waves of elated energy signaled from her. It was such an overwhelming thing to feel that once again he had to fight to hold off from reaching the apex of his gratification, but it was too much to bear, the feelings he felt from her so intense that it was unavoidable. He quickened his pace, riding through it and allowing himself to gradually succumb to his elation. His fists clutched the bed sheets at her sides, his palms so sweaty that the sheets were drenched and may have slipped through his fingertips. The fingers of one of Bulma's hands tangled into his dampened hair, her other hand sliding along his back curved along her, shaky fingers unsteadily trying to hold on to his rocking body, her grip faltering on his skin outlined with perspiration. She hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her so he was plunging so deeply insider her that she breathed in only very sharp breaths. Their bodies moved together rhythmically, swaying back and forth, Bulma arching her back further until he was as close to her as possible, his abdomen meeting hers. Her inner muscles constricting and contracting, her tightness was squeezing him until he was close to being pushed over the edge, while she was satisfied at how he was hitting her in all the right places. Underneath half-lidded eyes she watched him, seeing the intense concentration in his expression, a single bead of sweat clinging onto the edge of his nose, and he was biting down on his bottom lip so hard that he had drawn a tiny amount of blood. He didn't notice, his focus was entirely on the task at hand.
No longer able to impede, he managed a few quick strokes before he stopped, his entire body shuddering, releasing a choked gasp through his clenched teeth. He was spent and exhausted, and aside from the realization of what an intense thing he'd experienced he was disoriented and thinking of the sleep he craved. His body temperature was sweltering, as was hers, and from the pressure of his blood coursing with life through him there was a ringing sound in his ears, throwing his attention off. Brought down from her corporeal high, Bulma's breath slowed to long and even pants, trying to get her beating heart to slow down, while Vegeta's pants were thick and sharp.
It took him a good portion of a minute to recover, and once he did he looked down at Bulma, holding his eye contact with her. The look in his eyes was indiscernible, but he seemed to be examining her, trying to read her feelings and trying to convey his own. He could never say it with words, but he tried to communicate the smoldering passion he harbored, spoken more clearly than words alone ever could, giving her a look that physically said to her that she was his. She could not read what that expression meant, though the way he looked at her was so intense that her breath caught in her throat. She was expectant that he might give her affection, hoping for an embrace, but the moment was broken as Vegeta peeled himself from her, while she sighed when he slid free from inside her. Before she knew what was happening he was off the bed, pulling his shorts back up, but through her bleary vision she managed to catch a glimpse of his naked behind. Through her hazed thoughts she promised herself she would need to claw at that ass the next time she coupled with him. She remained contentedly dazed on his bed as he left the room, not looking back at her.
After regaining her breath, Bulma rolled over so she was lying on her stomach, though she was too weary to leave the bed. She was only mildly disappointed; she had wanted to cuddle or share another kiss with him. But though she had not climaxed through it, she had enjoyed it, much more than any of the very few orgasms she had previously experienced in her life. Vegeta was so cruel, cruel for making her feel so impossibly good. Where had he been all her life?
But he was a part of her life now, and she felt he was a permanent fixture. She had finally caught her prince, and now she would never let him go, and she was certain he felt the same way. He had enjoyed the sex, and she loved that he had liked it as much as she liked being that close to him. Somehow she'd managed to get him to let his defenses down and she'd managed to get close to him to form an unconventional relationship with him, one founded on respect and compassion, and of course the physical tension between them. She had managed this feat, and she was proud of herself for having captured the great Saiyan prince.