AN: Hi guys. So it's finally time for the next installment. I agonized over every single detail and hope I got it right and ffn doesn't kick me off for being obscene. That said, here's the disclaimer...
Warning: So, this chapter contains scenes of an adult nature. Note everyone, this is now officially an M rated fic so proceed with caution…
(Also, I didn't do the whole censoring thing because I feel it takes away from the intensity of the moment)
Chapter 14 (Cards on the Table)
Doctor Briefs usually spent his Sundays with his wife in their atrium, surrounded by their many pets, ancient and new. Thinking to use this opportunity to get a bit more sleep for once, one can imagine that Bulma's disposition did not take very kindly to the sudden removal of her snug blankets that following morning.
"Up, Woman - you've been slacking off for too long. It's time to get that flabby butt of yours in shape." Vegeta's gravelly voice grated on her nerve. She cast him a scornful glare, before swiftly reaching for the ends of her blankets again, only to have them snatched out of her reach by the now smirking Saiyan Prince at the foot of her bed.
With a growl Bulma sat up, still glaring at the current bane of her existence. "My butt is not, nor will ever be flabby. Now if you don't mind, I'd like my blankets back."
Without ceremony, Vegeta spun around and left her room, dragging the precious mound of goose-feathers and Egyptian cotton with him - the ends trailing on the floor. "If you want your blankets, you will find them in the Gravity Trainer."
Why that…
Bulma wasted no time rescuing her bedding from Vegeta's purposefully indelicate handling. Jumping up, she raced after him in oversized pink nightshirt, grabbing hold of her trailing blankets just as they were about to cross the threshold of her suite onto her tiled balcony floor. He surrendered them easily enough, having accomplished his primary purpose, namely, getting her out of bed. Bulma sighed in exasperation, and turned forlornly towards her rumpled bed. Seeming to sense her intention, Vegeta tone rang with the threat of retribution: "I'll be expecting you on the grass outside in five minutes." he said, before leaping from her balcony.
It wasn't the first time he'd given her this rude awakening, and Bulma admitted that she should have expected it - Sunday or not. She quickly splashed her face with some cold water and brushed with her special salt infused toothpaste before slipping on her training leotard and boots. Following Vegeta's example, Bulma cleared the railing of her balcony, dropping three stories down and flaring her ki before she hit the grass below for a softer landing. Standing from her crouched position she beamed at the scowling Saiyan,
"I almost stayed airborne for two whole seconds that time." she gushed proudly, to which he simply rolled his eyes. "So, what are we doing today, Vegeta?"
"Actual flying"
Then it was Bulma's turn to scowl. "Again, why can't you just accept that air is not my element of expertise and we can move on to more productive endeavors." To which his reply was a simple raised eyebrow. After a few unnerving seconds of being silently stared at, Bulma conceded with an exasperated groan. Plopping down on the damp grass without further ceremony to start her meditations.
"Remember to breath" he coached softly, "try to feel the energy within the air all around you like you do with the water." He gave her a few seconds to become accustomed and reconnect with her own ki in relation to her environment, before starting his own kata. "When you're ready", were his parting instructions before returning his focus to his own movements.
Bulma observed carefully as the soft flowing of his limbs were interspersed with swift cutting movements. With her senses tuned into the flow of the air, she noted how each flex of his muscles affected the pressure and temperature of the air around him. He had told her once that this kata was designed to introduce young ones to the concept of air pressure manipulation with the eventuality that they learn how to fly and shoot energy beams. This session would mark Bulma's third attempt to master it, the first two having failed spectacularly. Being used to being able to learn things quickly, Bulma was infinitely frustrated at her slow progress in this regard. Nevertheless, she decided to endure and persevere, resolving to keep trying until she can weaponize air with as much ease and control as she does water. Waiting until she felt most confident in her grasp of things, Bulma stood at Vegeta's side and fell in with his movements, careful to accompany them with the right ki-manipulation. It was a strain and she stumbled a few times, but after the third repeat she could complete a full set without pause.
"The tentative manner in which you manipulate air is disconcerting woman, to keep yourself in the air you need a gust not a breeze." Vegeta lectured sternly.
"That's not what you said last time," Bulma complained.
"Last time you nearly uprooted a tree. You need to concentrate on manipulating the energy in your immediate vicinity not all around you, hence the need to know how to compress and expand the molecules, you can't create a hurricane around you every time you fly. Learn to control it. Now do it again."
It was exhausting, exasperating and repetitive, but Bulma had to admit, after the 20th kata she did feel that the air was easier to control. She was just about to mention this to her mentor when he interrupted her 21st set.
"I think that's enough. You understand the basics. Now apply it. I want you to be able to fly by the end of the week."
And with no further adieu, he set out for his Gravity Trainer towards his own training. The exhausted mermaid slumped to the floor, arranging herself spread-eagled on the lush green grass of the Briefs' lawn. The sky was powder blue and sunrays filtered through the expanse of the sky with not a cloud to obscure their radiance. Bulma lay for a while, contemplating her companion's especially grouchy disposition today and the reasons for it. She hoped it had something to do with her stunt with Yamcha the previous day, but his stoic disposition throughout the encounter left no clue as to whether he was actually affected by it, causing his abrupt departure, or whether he simply just grew bored. She had yet to talk to him about it and now lay, wondering how to broach the subject.
After a few more moments her thoughts dwelled towards other consequential matters as her limbs were filled with languid heat by the sun's beating rays. She hardly realised she had been drifting off when Ms Briefs' shrill voice rang through the air.
"Oh Bulma dear! You have a visitor." she called and Bulma sat up with a start to witness the approach of the blond-haired woman dressed jovially in a cropped green boob-tube, and high-wasted denim capris. She was followed closely by none other than Yamcha, dressed similarly stylish in a pastel yellow button shirt and brown slacks. Their meticulously groomed appearance made Bulma instantly aware of her own state of dishabille, in royal-blue skin-tight bodysuit. She hadn't even showered, she recalled shamefaced and really hoped that she didn't stink. All thoughts of sweaty countenances was soon forgotten, however when she spotted what he carried: In his one hand he held a bouquet of red-roses, Despite the fact that she wasn't really interested in him romantically, Bulma couldn't help but be charmed by the gesture. She quickly got to her feet and dusted of her grass covered butt, greeting the warrior with a welcoming grin.
"Yamcha!" she exclaimed, "what brings you to this part of the world?"
"I uhm… I wanted to bring you this" he replied, offering her the flowers with a stiff arm and a blooming blush on his cheeks. Recalling the appropriate human response, Bulma took the offering with a good natured: "Auw, that's so sweet. You really didn't have to, though."
"I was my pleasure," he rushed to assure her before taking a breath so big his chest visibly puffed. His face suddenly became serious and his chocolate brown eyes became intense as he stared at her.
"I actually came to tell you that… well, I really enjoyed meeting you yesterday and hanging out was fun. I was wondering though, if you'd maybe be up to doing it again."
"Hanging out? Why Yamcha!" she teased, "Are you asking me out on a date?"
He blushed red for a moment, shoulders tense, then suddenly slumped and with a self-deprecating grin simply said "Yeah."
"And where would we be hanging out?"
Now beaming, he seemed to think a moment before asking if she'd ever been ice-skating before. His eyes practically lit up when she replied 'no'. Just as he opened his mouth to say something else, an hydraulic hiss sounded behind the gathered party, startling the words right out of his mouth. The Gravity Chamber's door fell open shortly afterwards and a sweaty Saian price stood at its entrance, looking surlier than usual. His fierce scowl immediately found the visiting human fighter, flicked towards the bouquet of roses Bulma held in her hands and then back to the scarred faced warrior. In a feat that Bulma would have sworn was impossible, his brows lowered even further, deepening his scowl and transforming his expression from one of mild annoyance to outright hatred, and Bulma was rewarded with exactly what she wanted to see: Intense jealousy.
Not as unaffected as you would have me believe, are you Princey? She thought smugly. Bulma's good intentions (of letting Yamcha down as softly as possible) all but flew out the window with this new revelation. The devious mermaid's thoughts slowly turned towards revenge for the stunt he pulled on her that morning - and the previous evening! Meeting the Prince's burning gaze, Bulma responded to Yamcha's unvoiced request with a deliberate, "I would love to go ice skating with you Yamcha." and took great sadistic pleasure in the irritated tick that throbbed in Vegeta's jaw. His eyes narrowed, promising retribution which would probably have caused anyone else to piss their pants in fear. Bulma found it strangely arousing.
Eyes moving between the two headstrong characters, Yamcha idly wondered if he bit off more than he could chew with his romantic pursuit of Bulma. The thought lasted only as long as her eye-contact with Vegeta did and when she turned the power of her sapphire-bright eyes on him, it effectively scrambled all significant thought processes and he found his mouth saying, "Pick you up at seven ?" without the full consent of his brain.
"Seven is great" Bulma replied, throwing a last smug look over her shoulder towards Vegeta before sauntering off with an exaggerated flair of her voluptuous hips. She was trailed by Mrs Briefs and Yamcha who was as entranced by her swaying rump as any healthy, red-blooded and unmated male would be.
Staring up at the stone-faced Mammalian soldiers, specifically, the one who held a trident spear at his throat, Saber, formally known as 'Boss' to his compatriots, was cursing the very day he decided to drag that pretty blue haired mermammal with the pretty rainbow tail from her hidey-hole. She may have gained him a fair amount in coin, but it was hardly worth his missing teeth. And now her companions have come seeking retribution. It was bad business all around, he concluded.
'I'll ask you again, Eelian scum,' the trident holder sneered, 'what have you done with our princess? And if you lie again, I'll stab this trident into your carotid artery and leave Razor here to do the rest' The meman threatened, motioning towards their massive pet Tiger Shark that was currently ominously circling his tied up crew.
Damned either way then, the Cavern Bandit thought with a defeated sigh and decided fessing up would be his best bet after all. Hesitating a moment longer, he was promptly spurred into action with a little more pressure applied with the deadly spearpoint at his throat.
'Ok, alright. I'll talk! Yeesh!' he exclaimed, causing the pressure to ease from his throat.
'A few weeks ago me and me crew saw somethin' shimmering in a cave. It turned out to be a female of your species: light blue hair, wearing body armour and sporting a tail sparkling with colors ranging from blue to green to purple. From what we knew of your people I recalled that her scale-coloring means she must be someone special and thought she might fetch a high price with the Eelian nobility of more crooked tastes, if you understand me meanin'.' From the overflow of emotion that heated the water all around him, Saber could tell that his tale was causing quite the consternation and realised, too late that he might have worked a little harder to seem properly contrite.
'You sold her?!' the trident bearer exclaimed his offence.
'Aye, I did.' the Bandit leader answered plainly. 'To one Lieutenant Knives of the Eelian Court'
'Truth' this came from the mermaid at his side. The one with the unnerving opal-white eyes, hair so black it seemed to absorb the meagre light that surrounds them and a chrome coloured tail that nearly matched the metallic hue of the armor she wore. It was that one that got him into this predicament in the first place, he thought with a sneer.
Ray was trying his hardest to contain his rage at the audacity of the Eelian peasant who spoke so lightly of selling their General and beloved Princess as if she were a common slave. At hearing who she was sold to, he almost lost all his sense and gutted to worm on the spot, if it wasn't for the staying hand his second-in-command and the retrieval party's Truth-seer, Major Lapis Silvertail, had placed on his shoulder he was sure he would have followed through with the impulse and damned the consequences. His gills flared wide as he took a calming breath and continued with the interrogation.
'So you sold the princess to Knives… that dishonourable piece of kelp would have most likely done away with her on delivery.' Ray speculated, trying to suppress the crushing weight of utter failure weighing heavy on his heart. Hopelessness had been slowly creeping in, diminishing the confidence he first had when he started his search. Ray desperately wanted to believe Bulma was still alive, there was just something inside of him that prompted him to keep on searching, even when the evidence seemed pretty damning. Therefore, with his self-control reigned so tight and his muscles were shaking with the strain, 'the Barracuda' soldiered on, thinking if the worse had come to pass, there would be enough time to bury himself into the sand and wail in despair when he returned home.
'Give me one good reason why I shouldn't spit you where you float, maggot?' he spat coldly.
'Knives didn't kill her.' the captured Bandit leader quickly reassured. 'Not that he didn't want to…. She managed to get him into a compromising position upon my delivery of her and negotiated her freedom - of a sort.' Saber said, recalling the outcome of said negotiation with a scowl and absentmindedly drew his tongue over the broken spikes in his mouth. His fangs; his precious fangs that were once sharp and needle-thin were nothing but jagged stumps because of that retched creature!
'She somehow managed to get the Lieutenant to agree to have her swim the Sacred Pass of Redemption. If you ask me, she's fare soft in the head! Nay men, give up this foolish pursuit. Your Princess is long dead by now most probably. No one returns from the Pass alive. If that isn't a testimony enough to her insanity, that hooligan you call princess broke me teeth!' Saber said, his accounting of events had started off quite objective, but quickly spiralled into the raving of a scorned Eel.
Relief washed over Ray like a swift current. She is alive. She made it to the Pass, which means their initial intel was correct. The Eelian's rant managed to draw the group's attention to his mutilated teeth and suddenly light hearted, Ray didn't hesitate to show his mirth as he released an amused chuckle.
'I don't think your truth-seeing opinion is needed to verify that last detail, Lapis. I don't doubt for a moment that he came face to tail with our Bull Shark.' he said with a smirk.
'Yep. That's our General's work alright' his second-in-command agreed, leaning in to seemingly study the Bandit's toothless state more closely.
It was the first real lead they had managed to dig up in weeks of searching. With the combined tracking ability of a squad member called Blade and his pet Tiger Shark, Razor, they encountered quite a few mers who had wittingly or unwittingly came in contact with Bulma - no one having been able to contribute anything of value, until they came across their current captive. He bore the most left over residue of her scent. Upon confrontation he had initially denied ever meeting Bulma, but Lapis' special ability enabled her to see right through the lie and landed them this valuable intel. The only obstacle that now remained was reaching the entrance of the Eelian's Redemption Pass that is located in the heart of the Eelian's city-cavern. Bull Shark did it with ease, and Ray would bet his Arowanian heritage that it was no accident either.
'So she used you to get into Eel-city, did she?' Ray speculated with a smile, admiring Bulma's cleverness.
'I suppose she did' the Bandit answered, 'At least, that is what she told Knives before she almost took me head off with that trident of hers.' he recalled bitterly.
Leaving the captive Bandit leader in the care of his subordinates, Ray took up a rhythmic pace around a nearby rock. 'I guess the same strategy won't work to get my team into the city, with treaty now firmly in place…' he concluded, contemplative. 'The next best thing then would be to pose as as an emissary… Bandit, how many people know that the princess has been taken into the Pass?' he asked his captive.
'S'far as I know, it was all hush hush, but with the Pass being so central and all, there was bound to be a few witnesses. There are rumors floating all around the city of your missing princess. Some believe she was assassinated by the crown. Some think she was truly suicidal. The older ones are of the opinion that she has gone on a Quest to bring back the hide of the Great White like the warriors of old times…. As to whether she still lives. Well, most are in agreement that your princess is dead, sorry to say'
'False… well, at least that last bit.' Lapis interrupted, raising a sardonic brow at the captive.
'Ok… I'm not sorry. She did mutilate me face.'
'So it's an open secret that she's been there.' Ray said, deciding to ignore his captive's open hostility. He then turned to face Lapis, 'You think the Eelian Court will permit our squad to search for our missing princess if it were a formal request from the Mammalian Queen?'
'I'm sure it wouldn't be an issue - as long as it's the common consensus that no one is being blamed for anything.' she replied.
'Ok. Hold up! So we just swim right into the midst of our enemy, in the middle of the bloody active-cycle, for all of Eeldom to see and then beg the favour of that sorry excuse of a monarch who, for all intents and purposes sent our General of to her death? Anyone else see a problem with this?' The sarcastic contribution came from their fourth squad member Marlin, their squad's powerhouse. He was one of the three squad-members standing guard over the rest of the captive bandits, four if you count the shark. Prone to fits of aggression and as muscular as his namesake, his strong opinions and take-no-kelp attitude meant diplomacy was definitely not one of his strong suits. He was, however loyal to a fault and the most courageous fighter of all of them by far. Although, Ray was of an opinion that that was only because the merman didn't have sense enough to know what was bad for him - an opinion he wisely kept to himself.
'They're not exactly the enemy anymore, Marlin.'
'Says who? A piece of scroll? Just because the truce is in place doesn't mean that merpeople's opinions about us have changed. I vote for a more stealthy approach.'
'He's got a point, Barracuda.' Blade said, not taking his eyes of his deadly companion who was still circling the rest of the captive Eelian Bandits.
'What about a compromise then.' Abelone, better known as Abby, spoke up. The fifth and final member of Ray's retrieval party. She was quite a bit older and not as skilled as the rest of the team when it came to physical combat, but more than made up for it with her energy-manipulating skills. The mermaid practically made magic with energy, using it to heal and harm in unbelievably creative ways. Before Ray asked her to accompany him on his mission, she was working as a tutor of specialised energy-techniques to gifted mers, her best student being Bulma herself, whom she held in high regard and treated like a daughter.
'What did you have in mind, Abby?' Ray asked the older mermaid.
'One of us needs to go ahead, under the sonar, of course, and petition the Eelian Court to permit our thoroughfare through their city. The way beyond the Redemption's pass is technically not in their territory.'
'It'll have to be me.' Ray volunteered. 'I have a still have few mer-eels left that owe me favors. I can get through undetected.'
'We'll need a Royal Escort to the Pass… for our protection' Lapis added.
'Without any official documents, that could be a tall order…. But since this is supposed to be an under the sonar mission - like that of the transporting of a Mammalian Princess to a Death-Trap Pass - I think I might be able to pull it off. Remember though, we're swimming blind here, Bulma tore the map from the Queen's book, so we'll have no way to reach the Reef except by the nose of that there shark of yours, Blade.' Ray warned.
'Remind me again why we didn't just have another copy made. It's not like the Book that Bulma stole from was the only copy of the Queen's Book.' Marlin harped.
'The Book's content is only viewable by Royals and only the Queen is allowed to copy it. We've been over this Marlin.'
'Yeah but if will help in finding Bulma-
'Razor's the best tracker in the Queendom.' Blade interrupted, speaking directly to Ray. 'He'll trace her. Don't worry, Barracuda. We'll find her.'
His confidence inspired them all. Ray could feel his doubts melting away and burying themselves deep in some unreachable part of his psyche. They would find her. He reiterated. They had to. For the first time in weeks, Ray Naga allowed himself to do something beyond hoping. He believed.
Bulma stared at her reflection in her dresser mirror, taking in the transformation that make-up caused on her features. The lights were off. Her room illuminated only by the dim glow of full moonlight streaming through the open balcony doors - and the Hollywood lights that ringed her dresser mirror. Her eyes were shadowed in coal-grey, black and silver and her lashes were thick and dark. Dark teal pencil shaped her brows into a perfect arc and a line-up of beige and tan foundations made her face flawless - perfectly shadowed. The bow in her plump lips were exaggerated with red liner and her lips were glazed with scarlet-coloured gloss. Its hue matching the ruffled bra-strap peeking out where her bathrobe had slipped off her shoulder. The cool moonlight at her back created a halo around her pale teal hair and the slightly luminous glow of her sapphire blue eyes added an eerie effect to the overall picture. She looked surreally gorgeous… she hated it. For the umpteenth of time she asked herself what the point of it all was.
Vegeta hasn't said a word to her the whole day, even though he had two opportunities to do so since Yamcha's visit this morning. Not even a scowl. To say she was having second thoughts about this date was an understatement. This was supposed to drive him to her in a jealous rage in which he called her all the bad names in the book and she would return the favour in kind, and they ended up falling into bed together in a frantic tangle of half-naked limbs… or at least: that's what the TV said was suppose to happen.
Bulma sighed, her forlorn eyes looking out of place in her flawless doll face. She should have never trusted Ms. Briefs' soaps. After all, Vegeta's about as human as she is. It was ludicrous trying to apply human courting behaviour to their relationship.
Just as she was about to reach for a wipe to take the gunk of her face, her suite's bell rang. It was shortly followed by Vegeta's voice through the intercom.
"Woman. Open this door. I need to speak to you." he said. His tone didn't carry its usual demanding ring. It was softer, more reserved. If that wasn't confusing enough, he didn't make his usual entrance into her room, which was via the open balcony doors, either.
Not knowing what to expect, Bulma pressed the button that would open her door.
She watched patiently from her perch at her vanity while he walked into her room with all the presence of one who owns it. Then, wasting no time dawdling, Vegeta came right out with his grievance.
"Woman," he started in a sombre tone, "for what reason are you indulging that sott of a human warrior? Surely you do not want him as your mate."
Well well, Bulma thought slyly, look who's following the soap opera status quo after all. Deciding to continue the subterfuge Bulma answered nonchalantly "Yamcha is nice, Vegeta. I don't mind his company. Besides, ice-skating sounds like it could be fun."
Her answer seemed to infuriate him, which was expected, but his next words took her completely by surprise.
"Horse. Shit. I know what game you're trying to play, Woman. It's not going to work." he turned around and was about to leave, but paused mid stride. "You know, I find this little game you're playing quite pathetic." he said over his shoulder, and she saw a sadistic smirk bloom on his face, "Quite frankly, It's downright desperate, not to mention common."
"How dare you call me common!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. "I'm every bit as royal as you are and you know it!"
"Just desperate then?" he asked, turning to face her.
"I am not!" she screeched in outrage.
He laughed, an irritating sound filled with masculine satisfaction that made her want to punch that cocky grin right off his face. Before she could decide upon acting on the impulse, he was in her face. His chest pressed into hers and his onyx eyes watched her intently.
"Let's not kid ourselves here, little mermaid," he said, his gravelly voice caressing all her erogenous zones. "We both know that it's me that you want, not that pathetic weakling, don't you?" His hand was suddenly tangled in her blue tresses and she gasped in an intoxicating mixture of pleasure-pain when she felt him yank, baring her vulnerable throat to him. He leaned his face into the juncture of her jaw and neck,
"Don't you?" he pressed and inhaled deeply. The wet touch of his tongue over her pulse made her jump in surprise. Vegeta laughed huskily. He was setting her body aflame, and the sadistic bastard knew it. She tried squeezing her thighs together to get rid of the sudden ache that started between her legs, but it was no use.
"Vegeta..." Bulma moaned, both a plea and a reproof.
"Say it, Bulma." he said in a voice so deep it was almost a growl, "Admit that it's me you want deep inside you, filling you up while you're writhing beneath me, clawing at your precious Egyptian cotton sheets. I make you crazy with need. Admit it."
He wasn't playing fair. She lamented with a half-muddled brain. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes once more with a triumphant smirk. He clearly had the upper hand again and Bulma didn't like it at all. She resented how easily he could reduce her to a mewling puddle of goo. Well, if he wanted honesty.. Then so be it. She'll give him honesty and may he be damned for it.
"Yeah…" she whispered hoarsely, "well, so what? You want to hear how my body turns into a languid mess of heavy limbs every time I get a glimpse of you exiting the Gravity Chamber in those spandex shorts? Or how my core throbs and my breast tingle when you touch me even in the most casual of circumstances? Greate Neptune, Vegeta! You know you only have to ask and I'm yours. But for some reason, you've decided to torture us both with your denial. " She spat bitterly. At that point she shrugged off the robe she wore to reveal the red-lacy number she wore underneath, complete with silky ribbons and garter belt. She Watched Vegeta's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard and delighted in her feminine power.
"I'm not the only one with unrequited desires. And I'm not the only one playing games here, am I? I've been in your mind Vegeta. I know your most intimate desires. So why don't we cut both the shit and lay it all out. Tonight."
At this, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close to whisper in his ear.
"I'll admit that I've been using Yamcha to make you jealous and you'll tell me the reason why you've been denying us both what we so desperately crave." as if to punctuate that statement she slipped her hand into the tenting sweatpants he wore, gripping his throbbing erection. His breath caught.
"Kami Woman, you'll be the death of me, I swear" was all he managed in reply, bunching the fabric at her hips as he tried to pull her closer.
"But what a way to go, right?"
Bulma was unsure who initiated it, but suddenly they were locked in a heated mating of lips and tongues. She managed to drag him to her bed and was semi aware that her clothes, or rather, underwear was disappearing fast, and not too gently either, but was past the point of caring. The last coherent thought she had, before being completely overwhelmed by the sensations in her body was:
Hey, there might be some truth to those soaps after all...
Vegeta enjoyed pleasuring a woman. It was an act that brought immense masculine satisfaction and enhanced his own pleasure. With Bulma however, the experience was vastly different. Infinitely more intense. As he teased her body with lips and hands until her skin was fevered and clammy, she reverted helplessly to her original nature, which at heart was a powerful telepath. Her moans rang out in the spacious suite, the vocalization of her pleasure heightened his excitement. Her body gave him the cues he needed to work her to her zenith. It was her mental articulations, however, that damn near brought him to his knees. Her walls were all but gone and he could feel the all havoc he was wreaking on her flesh as she projected it all into him.
'Kami, she is beautiful.' he thought savagely as he watched her writhe and buck into his hand. The words 'More! Oh Neptune more!' rang like a mantra in his mind and his own need throbbed beneath the cover of his sweatpants. He had removed all but her panties and the thin scrap of red fabric hardly served as any sort of barrier either. Vegeta was straining with the need to take her, but it was too soon. A dip of his fingers already confirmed her chaste as the day she was born so her body wouldn't be able to handle what her was planning to do to her. Slow and steady was not on his agenda that evening. Not with his body aching with a primitive need to possess her inside and out, to brand her with his essence. He had to, however, to put and end the the sensual assault she was telepathically inflicting on him if he were to last until then, for his pride simply would not allow him go off early like some inexperienced juvenile. Thus, with something akin to pain he slammed his own mental shields in place and focussed solely on his blue haired princess. Leaning over her the way he was, he watched her her body gleam in the moonlight spilling through her windows, glinting off the thin sheen of sweat that covered her skin. He couldn't help but taste her every few seconds. He did so now, dipping his head to her heaving chest. His mouth finding one puckered peak at the apex of her breast. Her hands immediately dove into his hair, her nails scraping his scalp, sending shudders down spine.
She tasted salty. More so than any other he's encountered. Her savoury taste delighted him and he craved to taste her all over. One place in particular: the source of that intoxicating scent of her arousal. He wanted to bury his face between her legs and feast on her nectar. He couldn't though. Not yet. There was time enough for that later. His control was all but shot to hell and he'd be damned if this was over before it even started. No other woman tested his iron-clad control as heavily as Bulma did, he thought in mild panic. No one had ever made him feel so much. Care so much. It was as exhilarating as it was dangerous. Then again… those two usually went hand in hand.
Her breaths were coming faster now, her pulse shooting higher and higher and he raised his head to watch her face the same time her lower abdomen clenched and her legs clamped shut over his forearm. With a shout she tossed back her head, her blue tresses arcing in the moonlight in tandem with her back. He felt her inner walls spasm around his fingers and there was only one word that came to mind: Magnificent.
The feeling of triumph as he watched her fly apart by his hands was tinged with sadness as he realised that he would have to leave her. Sooner rather than later. Her control over his emotions was too strong. The contentment that was slowly creeping in as the moment dragged on and her heartbeat slowed was a tell tale sign that he could not train at his full potential while she was around, making him feel sappy un-warrior-like things.
He would leave, yes, but not until he rigorously made sure that she knew that she was his - completely and exclusively. With that thought in mind he set to work. He removed his fingers from her slick heat and made a thorough show of enjoying her taste as she looked on. Her skin was flushed from passion, but her dazed eyes came alive again at the licentious act. He grinned wickedly and lowered his mental shields, letting her feel his hunger and feeling her own reawaken in return. 'Woman, this is far from over.' he whispered in her mind before hooking his fingers under the useless scrap of lace and silk at her hips. He was just about to tug when her suite intercom buzzed and the Briefs woman's ear-piercing voice floated through the speakers.
"Bulma dear, your date is here to pick you up."
AN: Muwahahahahaha! Diabolical ain't it? But really… I feel that's enough excitement for now. Good news is, you heard Vegeta - 'This is far from over'.
Big thanks to my favorite romance author, Linda Howard, for all the juicy inspiration I needed to take this first step into mature fiction. Until next time...