"Wicked Game" Ch. 15

By Shawna

A/N: Sorry for the long delay; we're moving and things have been busy. The next few chapters should be pretty rapid in coming. ^.^

I'm nothing more than an object to him.

Katsu was lying on her back in Vegeta's bed, thinking this. The sky was just barely beginning to gray with the approaching dawn, yet Katsu was wide awake.

An object, she repeated in her mind. Nothing more than an object. Her fists were clenched tight and she was glaring at Vegeta, sleeping on his side next to her, with his arm slung over her stomach. A few minutes ago, he had stirred, and she was hoping he would come awake soon. Anger was bubbling in her system; she wanted to scream at him until her throat was raw. Why did she keep coming back to him?

She lay there, brooding, until Vegeta finally began to wake up. He yawned, stretching his arms out, blinking his eyes open. What a sight must have greeted him; Katsu could only imagine how she must have looked, laying in his bed staring at him, burning with rage. For a moment, he said nothing, returning her stare.

"You're always angry," he said at length. "Even a good fucking isn't enough to make you relax for a little while. What is it this time?"

"I told you no," she said softly, icily. "Didn't I tell you no last night?"

A faraway look came into his eyes, as if he were pondering this. "Yeah, I think you did."

"So why didn't you listen to me?" Katsu said, raising her voice. "When I say no, thats what I mean."

He yawned and stretched again. "I might listen to you, if I cared about your feelings."

She knew that this was the truth; he did not care about her feelings or her at all, but somehow hearing him say it so easily hurt her deeply. For a moment she thought that she was going to cry.

Vegeta seemed to notice the effect his words had had on her. He groaned and rolled over, putting his back to her.

"Maybe that's not entirely true," he said. "For what it's worth, I don't want to make you hate me anymore than you already do. Is that enough caring for your delicate feelings?"

A slight grin came over Katsu's face. Getting him to admit that he had any consideration for her at all meant that he had more than he was saying, otherwise he would have said nothing. This pleased her; some of her anger had subsided.

"Well," she said. "Next time I say no, then, you respect that. I won't go along so quietly again."

Vegeta turned to look at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Suddenly you're giving me orders? I don't have to respect your wishes." Anger flitted across her face again. He groaned. "Get over it, its not like I forced you. You can say no all you want, but I know how to get you into the mood anyway."

Katsu could not argue with this; it was true. She said nothing, and Vegeta put his back to her again, waving one of his hands at her.

"You'd better go," he said. "Its almost dawn and I'm tired. So leave."

She stared at his back for a moment, and then a smirk crossed her face. She reached out, gripped Vegeta's arm, and pulled him over onto his back. He sat up on his elbows and gazed at her quizzically.

"What are you-"

She pressed her fingers against his lips, silencing him. "Don't talk," she said. "I can do to you what you do to me. I also have a few favors to return."

She leaned over him, and pressed her lips to his collarbone. He did not move or speak, but she felt his chest heave when she began nibbling her way down, towards his stomach. Her tongue traced the outline of the firm muscles of his stomach before sliding lower, where she kissed his hipbone before moving even lower.

Vegeta moaned when he felt her warm mouth close over him. He collapsed back onto his pillow, closing his eyes, enjoying what she was doing. Somehow, her tender inexperience was more arousing than extreme skill, and he gritted his teeth, gasping. She was obviously running on instinct only, and perhaps a bit of what she had picked up from him, and this was more appealing to him than all the experienced girls he had ever been with; all the girls who had been with and learned from others before him. Katsu was his; his alone, she had never been anyone else's. In that moment, he wanted her to be his forever, to keep her with him all the time.

He cried out lightly, clenching his fists. It had been enough; he sat up and reached down, gripped her shoulders and pulled her away from him roughly. Her wide eyes questionned innocently, but he did not answer her, instead throwing her down onto her back and then rolling over on top of her. He hooked his arms under her knees, drawing her legs up.

"So, you know how to get me in the mood, as well," he said with a grin. "Good." With this he thrust into her hard, and she cried out, her arms going up around his back, her nails digging into his shoulderblades as she drew him down, pressing his chest against hers.

The break of dawn found Katsu hurrying down the stairs toward the servants' quarters, still lacing up her dress. She stumbled over a stair and nearly fell in her haste to get there before the other servants woke up. If she was absent in the morning too often, they would begin to suspect something. She was relieved to find everyone sleeping, even Shiro, when she made it to the basement. She collapsed onto her cot just as someone yawned, starting to wake up.

For once, Shiro had not woken up and noticed her absence, so Katsu did not have any explaining to do that morning. The day was uneventful and like the rest, tiring and boring. It was not until late in the afternoon that a rush of activity and commotion went up.

"What's going on?" Katsu asked Shiro innocently. The two of them were still on slightly frigid terms, but not so much that he would not answer her question. His voice was grave.

"You know the one all the Saiyans are afraid of? He's coming here to meet with the King over something."

Katsu stared for a moment. "Coming here?" She repeated.

"Yeah," Shiro confirmed her statement. "In fourteen days, I heard. All the Saiyans are in an uproar. The King wants everything to be absolutely perfect when whoever this person is comes. I imagine that means we'll be under alot of pressure these next two weeks."

Katsu remembered what she had heard about this mysterious person who was more powerful than all the Saiyans combined. Vegeta was afraid of him, and obeyed him because of this fear. There was that time the King was talking to Vegeta, about having to go somewhere because this person wanted it...

Shiro grabbed Katsu's arm. "Let's go," he said brusquely. "Its dinnertime."

Katsu forgot about what she had heard until late that night, when she had crept back up the stairs and was in Vegeta's room.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said as he was unlacing her dress.

"Oh?" She breathed. "Where are you going?"

"Just to another planet. I shouldn't be gone more than three or four days." He pushed her dress back and it fell to the ground. Katsu could not help but wonder if this had something to do with that person the Saiyans feared.

"Does this have anything to do with... that person..."

Vegeta's face hardened. "No," he said firmly, his eyes not meeting Katsu's. "It doesn't."

She stared at him for a moment. "Don't lie," she said softly.

He growled lightly. "You worry about me too much," he said. "I don't want you to do that. Don't even think when you're with me. Just feel."

He picked her up, as he often did, and carried her, but in the opposite direction of the bed this time. Katsu was about to ask, but they arrived in the bathroom before she could. Vegeta set her down on her feet in the shower, and immediately turned one of the dials on the showerhead. Ice cold water poured down on Katsu and she yelped, pressing herself against the glass. Vegeta smirked and turned the other dial, evening out the water temperature to a comfortable warmth. He quickly shed his own clothes and stepped into the shower next to her.

"Why did you spray me with icy water?" She demanded. He traced a hand up her stomach, to her breasts.

"No special reason," he said innocently. "Its just fun to make girls cold."

Katsu shook her head. "You're a horrible person, you know that?"

"Yeah."

With this he silenced her by drawing her to him, pressing his mouth down on hers. Katsu relaxed, enjoying the heat of the water and of Vegeta's body. The warmth closed in around her and she let herself stop thinking, and just feel.

Katsu did not know how long they stayed in the shower, but her fingers were beginning to prune when they finally stepped out. They spent another amount of time that Katsu was unsure of in the bed, and the hour was late when they finally rolled apart. Vegeta went immediately to sleep, but Katsu stayed awake.

Why does it make me sad to know that he's leaving tomorrow?

He was not even going to be gone for very long; she could not understand the sharp pressure in her chest when she thought of spending the next three or four nights alone, sleeping on her cot down in the basement. It was not just the comfort of his bed she would miss, she knew that. But it would be a well-deserved break, she needed a break from this. Somehow, she did not feel that she needed a break, did not even want one. She only wanted Vegeta to stay. Tentatively, she reached out her hand, stroked his hair lightly. He barely stirred and went on sleeping. She buried her fingres in his thick hair, enjoying the feel of it between her fingers, and then drifted off to sleep.

"Wake up, Katsu," was the next thing she knew. Vegeta was above her, stroking her cheek, fully dressed already. Dawn was approaching.

"You need to leave," he said, still leaning over her. "And so do I. Be good while I'm gone."

She did not have time to react to this statement before he leaned down and kissed her softly, barely with his tongue. Then he was gone, and she heard the door shut. The room was empty; she was alone.

A profound sense of loss settled into her chest. She rose quickly from the bed, determined to shake away the feeling. He cared nothing for her; she would not allow herself to care about him. She threw her dress on and ran out the door, quickly, quietly to the basement, as she had now become accustomed to doing. No one was awake, no one ever was, and she lay down on her cot and squeezed her eyes shut, lest tears fall from them.

Absolutely not. I will not feel this way about him. We have good sex, nothing more. I absolutely cannot stand him.

She cursed her feminity; that inate part of her that made her want to be in love with the man she slept with. She was not in love, certainly not, but she was caring far too much. She could not allow herself to feel this way about someone who had a part in enslaving her, someone who, at any time, might suddenly change his mind and toss her away for good. She could not start falling in love with a person like that. She would not.

She was.

**To Be Continued...**