AN: I am back!
WARNING: Rated R, slight lime/lemon in this chapter.
Chapter Four.
The Mistress
By: Heartless
AU, set on Vejiita-sei. Find out how Bulma copes as she becomes Vegeta's mistress. Will she accept the arrangement? Or will the sight of Vegeta with another woman slowly drive her to insanity? A story about lust, jealousy and physical domination.
Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Angst - Bulma, Vegeta - Chapters: 8 - Words: 27,958 - Reviews: 240 - Favs: 133 - Follows: 79 - Updated: Dec 10, 2004 - Published: May 9, 2004 - id: 1854266
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Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten
It was beautiful.
The time between night and day had always been her favorite. The various hues of sapphire colored clouds that melded together like the vision of a night sky in a delicate oil painting, during the twilight hour, always managed to soothe her weary nerves.
Bulma looked ahead and smiled at the faint line of red amber that had just began to break through the horizon of the sea, peeking out from the small islands that were dotted along the horizon like pearl drops of coral, beyond the villa.
She tilted her head back, looking towards the left and felt a gasp fall from her lips.
A rare sheet of Aurora had exploded to the west, above Sai Island as the twilight silhouetted the ridge line of the numerous islands. Pink and white streaks of light dipped down, trailing their auras behind the island, disappearing beneath the swaying shadowed leaves of the Island's large trees.
An awed lump formed in her throat at the subtle beauty that was reflected upon the islands in the distance, as the constellation of stars in Vejiita-sei's solar system competed for the night, each one desperately trying to outshine the other.
So enamored was she, that she barely registered a pair of sleek muscled arms wrapping themselves around her hips. She jumped slightly as she was pulled back against a strong muscled wall of chest, warm and inviting to her chilled naked body.
"What is it?"
The intonation of his deep, husky voice, sent a deadly tremor of desire shooting down the center of her spine.
They stood silently on the open veranda of the room that looked out across the cliff that the villa was built upon, out to the vast churning ocean beyond that housed variations of beautiful islands.
At length Bulma spoke, "A sheet of Aurora," she pointed dutifully towards the west, above Sai Island, her eyes never wandering from the spectacle.
"So I see," he murmured into her ear as his hands roamed the planes of her stomach, coming to rest upon her rounded hips.
Bulma licked her lips. The question was there, at the tip of her tongue, ready to be spoken... But--but she was afraid. So utterly terrified.
"It is over," he announced suddenly, painfully tightening his grasp around her.
She winced as he dug his arms and fingers into the supple flesh of her waist, ignorant of the pain that he caused her.
"What is over, my King?" She whispered, hoping that her pain did not show through the
inflection of her voice.
"The pregnancy," he replied flatly, "Was that not what had captured your thoughts so entirely this evening?"
Bulma froze as the words sank themselves deep through her skin and into her nerve synapses, "P-pregnancy?" She closed her eyes as she felt him scowl against her temple.
"You did not know?" He questioned slowly, masking the pitch of his voice with indifference.
"No," she choked, "I did not know..." A flash of jealousy streaked through the depths of her soul. So, he had already procreated with his mate... And now he had an heir to the throne. What use was she to him then, now that he had another?
Vengeful hate coiled around her heart, trying to choke the very life out of her emotions. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
No... She would not let herself feel the pain. She couldn't. After all, she was contemplating her departure from Vejiita-sei; it would be wrong to deny him something that she could not and did not want to give. His forthcoming answer would decide her future anyway...
And so, the question she had been dreading to speak all the previous evening came tumbling out from her lips, "What would happen if your people found out about us?" She blurted out.
Vegeta pushed her away and roughly turned her around. He looked at her sharply, his lips twisting into a threatening scowl, "What are you babbling about?" To Bulma, he seemed unnerved by the sudden change in topic.
"If they caught us," she whispered frantically, searching his eyes for any sign of emotion, "Aren't you the slightest bit worried about what would happen?"
He looked away and snorted, "Don't be ridiculous."
Bulma's shoulders slumped at the vagueness of his answer, "You would either have to kill me or renounce the crown... Wouldn't you?"
When he refused to answer, she lowered her head walked passed back into the room; all thoughts of the Aurora sheet had fled from her mind. She sat down slowly on the large bed and closed her eyes. Moments later, she felt his calloused hand cup her chin and tilt her head back. She looked up at him forlornly.
"You should not worry about that, no one will find out," he said slowly, frowning as he spoke.
Bulma felt her frustration grow to new heights.
"You don't understand! With all these servants in this villa, one of them is bound to get ideas in their head and they're going to ask something from you; they will want something in order for them to keep this arrangement a secret," she cried.
"I would kill the fool before he even had the chance to ask for something," Vegeta snarled, clenching his fist by his side as he tried to reign in his anger.
She shook her head, "You never answered my question," she mumbled, "What would you do?"
Bulma looked up into his star-filled eyes and felt her chest tighten as he glared at her. She rubbed the space between her breasts, trying to ease the dull ache that was beginning to grow. As he stared at her, she knew the answer... He would kill her.
What Bulma didn't see, was the indecision lying deep in his eyes; the uncertainty of what he would do. And that bothered him more then he would care to admit to her.
"I knew it," she whispered as she stood up, "You would rather kill me then renounce the throne... Wouldn't you?" When he didn't answer again, she screamed at him, "Answer me!"
In a flash of lightning, his large hand covered her mouth as he threw her down upon the bed, "We will not speak of this," he spat, "No one will come to know, no one!"
Bulma gasped as he roughly parted her thighs. She clumsily tried to stop him from taking her, "How can you be so sure?" She asked urgently as she pried his hand off her mouth.
"Because," he growled, "I am their King and I am the strongest Saiyan to be born in over two thousand years. The fear alone will stop them from uttering a word and if that doesn't, I will rip out their tongues before allowing them to speak about us," he bit her bottom lip forcefully and trailed his hand down the flat plane of her stomach, towards the treasure between her legs.
She had not been satisfied with his answer... She never would be. If she wanted to survive, then she would have to leave. For her sake and his.
This would all be over when she left with Nena and her mother on the ship. She would be free, even though she had no place to call home; she would free... Free from him, and free from the danger of death.
Her pulse rate quickened from the rushing blood being sent to her loins as his fingers worked their subtle magic. She grabbed his wrist in a last desperate attempt, "Vegeta... We can't do this; not anymore!"
His hand froze at the center of her heated thighs, "And why is that?" He snapped.
"Because of your pregnant mate... We shouldn't do this! It--it would be wrong."
"Since when do you care for her well being?" He snarled.
"But--"
"Enough!" He roared, stilling the new protests that were poised upon her lips.
"We will have no more of this madness tonight," he said seriously, his hands already beginning to claim her body once more.
And this time, she lost the will to fight the pleasure.
A quiet moan escaped from her pouted lips as he trailed wet kisses down to her abdomen. She arched her back in protest, "Vegeta," she breathed softly, "Don't... No games tonight; I need you," she pleaded. All thoughts of his mate became a distant memory as his lips burned into her soft flesh, his hands teasing her and driving her to a precarious cliff of sensations.
As he travelled back up towards her and wound her long legs around his hips, she rewarded him with a smile. He would do almost anything she asked of him.
Almost anything.
Such power over a man of his calibre made her feel light-headed and dizzy. She enjoyed it, revelled in it, but she would have to give him up if she ever wanted to be free.
Bulma plastered a fake smile upon her face, "I accept this and your answer," she lied, "Now, it has been a long week and I am feeling rather..." She trailed off as she raked her nail through the ridges of his muscled stomach suggestively, earning a satisfied growl from him.
A cry tore for her throat as his length violently invaded her.
He rode her long and hard into the day, their bodies coming together in heated madness, until the red sun rose high above the villa, casting bloody streaks of rays across the cloudless sky and down to the sparkling waves of the churning ocean below. They continued on into the night as the sun fell from the sky, disappearing behind the islands, never once stopping for a reprieve, as they satisfied their hungry appetites with one anothers bodies.
Bulma threw her head back and sighed in fulfilment as they both came together in thunderous crash. She drew him deeper into her body, locking her lips against his as she rocked her hips and they rode the delicious waves of pleasure that rolled through her sensitive center. She gasped as he continued to move slowly within her, breaking the contact with her lips to nuzzle his face against the column of her fragile neck.
"Vegeta?" She whispered, moaning and raising her hips as his fingers delved into her wet folds at the apex of her thighs where their bodies joined.
"What?" He rasped against her ear, never once stopping the steady rhythm of his rocking body against her.
"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" She asked in amusement, turning her head slightly to look at the new beams of light that broke the line of the horizon. They had been so enamored with one another, that time itself seemed to have stopped. And now a day and two nights had passed in the midst of their heated sexual encounter.
Somehow, they had moved around the large room through the day and night, finally finding themselves upon the private veranda that Bulma had witnessed the Aurora sheet from.
He growled and pulled himself from her warm, inviting body, "We will continue this when I return from my duties in the eve," he snarled, raising his toned body from hers, already making his way towards the bath house of the villa.
Bulma spread her arms out, shivering from the loss of heat his body had offered. She stared up at the twilight sky, still shimmering with stars, as she lay on the stone-tiled veranda that over looked the oceans and other islands. She was slightly disappointed that she couldn't witness another burst of Aurora, but they were rare and so she would have to simply watch the twilight
skies as often as she could.
It was then that realized, as she lay alone on the cold stone floor, that she had just sent him back to her... His Queen. His pregnant mate.
She huffed, brushing away the irritating emotions and pain she felt from the situation. It would do no good. After all, there was no point in the pain, for she would be leaving soon after the heir was born and so she would feel no regret.
Through all her doubts and unacceptance of him, she still remembered the day they met, as if it had happened yesterday. That was one memory that she would carry with her for eternity...
"Should I carry him back with us, your highness?"
She froze as she heard a rough voice speak out loudly from outside the cave that she was resting inside of.
As quietly as she could, she crept towards the opening mouth of the cave and peered out from the shadows to see who had invaded her sanctuary.
A silent gasp formed in her throat as she saw two large Saiyan men, towering over another. The high moon shone down delicate pale beams of light, illuminating their hard bodies as they stood like angelic warriors made from marble, at the foot of the cave.
Bulma frowned as the smaller of the two standing Saiyan spoke, "Leave him here, it will do him well to learn this lesson!" They chuckled cruelly in symphony and the smaller Saiyan shook his head at the frighteningly large bald one, "I do not think he will be in a hurry to return, do you Nappa?"
She remembered him... A memorable image of the King that had spoken to her when she was a child flashed through her mind. That was when--when... She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing away the horrific memory of her past.
She couldn't understand what they were saying, after living most of her life in the sanctity of the planet's forests, she only ever had contact with alien traders and merchants that used the forest to travel from one city to another. And they never knew the Saiyan language.
Among the Saiyan citizens of Vejiita-sei, she had become a legend and myth as the years passed by and she had been obscured from their knowledge and sight, for she had managed to run away from the servant duties that had been given to her; she was too
young to understand what they wanted from her, and after a five years of offering services to the Saiyan people, she had decided to run away.
Being only twelve at the time, she was vulnerable and afraid and all she wanted to do was go home... During the few years she had been put to work, no one had bothered to teach her how to speak properly, from the ages of six to twelve and so she was left illiterate. She knew the language of her own people, but even that began to diminish from her mind.
When she ran away, the King had also dismissed her from his sight, not even bothering to check whether she was still alive or not; where she was or what she was doing. The royal councilmen had all thought she perished one way or another and so she had been forgotten.
Yet she remained in the hearts of the traders that knew she was alive and well, and she was grateful that they did not speak of her outside the sanctuary of the forest. Some took pity on her and even offered her clothing and the occasional morsels of food as they passed by the abandoned temple that had been her home for eleven years, but for the most part, she had been left alone.
Alone to live her life in the comfortable surroundings of the planet's only safe forest that was free from harmful, wild animals. Although the occasional beast did pass through, she was so small that she could easily hide herself among the foliage. Even then, she had been in put in great danger many times, but she had always managed to escape.
Her attention returned to the King and other Saiyan that were glaring down at the still body of someone hidden in the shadows of the tall grass.
"No, your majesty," the bald Saiyan spoke again, "But he will survive the night in his forest, even though the capital is many miles from here; he will be safe here."
"You're right Nappa," the King replied, "Even then, I would not be worried about him," he looked down again, and Bulma saw a ghostly smirk dance across his lips, "He is strong; he is already stronger than myself. You were lucky to catch him off guard in the fight, Nappa. When he returns, he will have your head on a silver platter," she watched him crouch down and place a burly hand upon the silent body. From not being able to understand what was going on, she was afraid that the person had been killed...
"True, your majesty, but I will welcome any wrath I incur from his hand."
Bulma saw the King rise and grunt, motioning the bald Saiyan to follow him as he floated up through the trees. She sighed as they both disappeared behind the large, thick green leaves of the vast trees.
It frustrated her that she didn't know their common language... She only knew the small amount that the traders and merchants had taught her when they camped for the night in the forest. But what had she needed speech for? There was no one with whom she could converse and so it would be fruitless to learn anything more than the basics of speech, even though she considered herself to be an incredibly fast learner.
She peeked her head out from the cave and looked around, making sure that she would not receive any new surprises. As she crept out quietly, her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, focusing on the prone body lying hidden in the grass as she neared.
Bulma kneeled down and rolled the man over, grunting from the effort. How would she manage to get him to the abandoned Saiyan temple when she could not even roll him over? As she looked down, she gasped.
He looked exactly like the King... Except that he was younger, bloodier, dirtier version. That meant that he was the prince... The merchants had told man horror stories about the royal heir; he was a vile and terrifying man, more so than his father.
But--But...
Her first thought was... Beautiful. Simply beautiful. She didn't know how a man could possess so much beauty. It was strange yet the word--suited him. His father was handsome, even for his old age but she there was something different about this young man; something dangerous, something appealing. She could already feel the fire beneath her cheeks.
Bulma jumped back as he groaned and opened his eyes for a moment, scowling at her in confusion and... And awe, before closing them once more. Her chest heaved as her eyes roamed over his unconscious body, coming to rest upon the seared flesh at the side of his stomach.
She winced.
Had his father done this to him?
Pity washed over her as she debated whether or not to leave him there. After all the
bloody tales she had heard about him, all the murderous crimes he had committed, she was still contemplating the thought of helping him.
Besides, he had seen her, which meant that he would possibly come looking for her once he had recovered; she might as well help him and it was not her nature to turn her back on a defenseless being. No matter how much she suffered in the end.
Sighing, she tucked her arms under his arm pits and slowly dragged him across the soiled ground, through the trees and onto the softly trodden pathway that led towards the abandoned temple that she slept in.
It took her twenty minutes to reach the derelict, moss-ridden stone structure, but she groaned with relief as she lay his heavy body down at the center of the temple, before the marble and granite statues of the ancient Saiyan gods that lay forgotten amongst the current generation of Saiyans.
Bulma gently placed his head upon her lap, and unconsciously brushed her fingers across the fine line of his jaw. As she looked down, she caught his open, endless ebony eyes glaring at her once more as she touched him. Even his eyes were enticing... She shook her head out of the trance that his eyes had caused and frowned at him in reprimand, earning a surprised grunt from him as he struggled in her grasp.
Without protest, she placed his head back onto the hard stone floor as he slipped once more into unconscious thought.
As she moved about the open-pillared temple to see ailments for his wounds, she sniffed and sneered in disgust. She smelt like the many animal droppings that were left around the forest; she realized she hadn't bathed in days. Perhaps that was why the man was struggling against her; not that she could blame him.
Suddenly conscious of her dirt-encrusted body, she returned to the side of the King's son. She examined the seared flesh before standing to gather water from the small river that was nearby to the temple.
After experiencing her fair share of wounds from wild animals, she had become an expert in tending to them and she was certain she could ease his pain with some of her medicinal sap-juice she discovered from the rare plants of the forest.
She went about gathering the balm made from the sap of the rare plants near the temple before wandering to the small waterfall and river that ran through the forest. She had been particularly lucky in finding the temple, as it had a fresh supply of water from the river and edible vegetation.
After falling ill a number of times from some of the more poisonous vegetation, she learnt her lesson and steered clear of them. If the prince tried to harm her, she would simply have to try to rub the poisonous juices into his wound and she was certain she would be safe from him.
But there was something about him that told her... He would not harm her; if the look of surprise in his eyes was not enough proof, she was certain she would be safe...
Gathering the devices needed to cleanse his wounds, she returned to his side to wash his bloodied body and wrap the clean rags of clothing that the merchants and traders had offered her, around his side and stomach.
Bulma gently washed his soil-smudged face carefully, rubbing the balm into the deep gash
along his jaw line. She didn't know why she pitied this man, after everything she had heard, but she knew she did. After dressing his wounds, she promptly fell asleep at the foot of the stone statues of the Saiyan deities; all thoughts of washing herself had been forgotten as the exhaustion of the day set itself over her weary limbs.
It had been a long day--