Inside Vegeta
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Would you throw away everything that makes you YOU just for the chance to love and be loved?
Enjoy the fiction and please, a little r&r is appreciated!
Could love be as ever so sweet as the gentle soft glow of her skin? Or perhaps love is greater, far more engulfing than the eternal beauty glazed over her sapphire eyes.
How should I know? I have grown up with nothing but fear of the pain caused by love and loss, my heart heavy with doubt and insecurity.
Her smell is so sweet; I am drawn to her by the power of her scent that is carried gracefully upon the air, through my nose and resting heavily in my lungs. I become lost in a hopeless state of vulnerability and pride.
I see her resting on her bed, her flowing hair scattered across her pillow in tangles and a mess and I cannot help but chuckle slightly for even in her sleep I can still feel a fiery presence about her. I can feel myself harden beneath my shorts, she tempts me more as she gasps for a small breath and for a moment I imagine that her parted lips would be meeting mine. I can't even imagine what she would taste like.
A vision of beauty, grace and perfected physique, but could she also be described as image of love? As I look down at the growing need that my body cannot hold back I find myself caring no longer of love, but a feeling of lust in dangerous proportions. I want to make her mine. I want to sink my teeth in the groove of her neck and shoulder and mark her as my property and as my eternal mate. I want to taste her lips and her skin. I have longed to see and touch the beauty that must lie beneath her clothes.
Such temptation must be avoided, breaking my saiyan pride of taking a human woman as mine would break me down mentally and I would fall, just as Kakkarot has done.
No, I cannot allow her to become my subject of desire. I must remain alone for the rest of my years, even with my yearning to mate with this woman, I will resist. I have no choice.
As I close the door to her bedroom I take one last sniff of her scent and I begin walking down the corridor to my bedroom, wishing the hardness in my pants would go away. I crawl into bed and my body feels heated with desire, a desire becoming stronger with every thought in my mind that concerned that blasted woman. I cannot even see her; she is not near me yet this power of her beauty is forcing me to lose control. I reach down and feel the hot flesh that has bulged out immensely, causing slight pain. I release it from the restrictions of my pants and cannot resist but to stroke it up and down, wondering what it would be like if someday someone else's hand other than my own would stroke this sensitive flesh.
A cold wind blows in through my window and I shudder and stop the stroking. If I release then I would have given into that woman's tempting ways and I cannot allow that. I fold my arms behind my head and under my pillow and I begin to stare blankly at the ceiling, imagining what life would be like to have a mate of my own and even my own offspring.
I then remind myself that there are no female saiyans alive so I shall never understand what those impossibilities would feel like. It seems sinse the death of my father that I was destined to be alone and live in jealously of those more powerful than I. I hate it!
I reach my hand down and begin to stroke the now softened flesh until it once again became hard and hot. I felt the blood rushing out of my brain and my vision became clouded. I, the prince of all saiyans shall be alone, mate-less and weak for the rest of time.
I feel my hand wet with the release and a hot, salty tear stings my eye and I realise that I have become what I feared most since I arrived on this planet. I am becoming a symptom of the human condition – I am an emotional wreck.