It went along like that for weeks. During the day, Vegeta and Bulma lobbed insults at one another with a fury so intense, it made everyone at Capsule Corp., pray for an armistice. He would drag broken drones to her laboratory, she would refuse to fix them. She would bar the staff from making him dinner, he would carry her over his shoulder and complain for hours on end until she agreed to cook. Everyone in the house strayed far, far away from the two, worried their toxicity might be contagious. Even Dr. Briefs asked his daughter if she thought it might be a good idea for Vegeta to move out.

Unbeknownst to them, though, this was their weird version of foreplay.

At 11 p.m. on the dot every single night, he came to her room and fucked the living daylights out of her. She rode his hard cock as he laid on the bed, he bent her over her desk and slammed into her warm center. Water cascaded down their bodies as they collided in the shower, the steam rising as she pressed against the tile wall, panting and mewling.

Vegeta never stayed. They never talked. They only fucked.

That is until one night. Fall was fully underway, which meant the product launch was not far behind. In two weeks, Capsule Corp., would hold its annual gala, and this one was especially important. Bulma's chip worked perfectly and it was poised to create long standing innovation in the auto industry. It was a coup for the company's chief scientist and all eyes were going to be on her.

Of course, she already picked out a silver sequin gown that made her look like a Roman goddess. Beside her, she wanted someone equally as statuesque.

Vegeta had his back pressed into the headboard, watching as Bulma slowly slid her hips up and down. Some nights, their sex was wild and animalistic. Other nights it was just like this, slow and sensuous, bordering on the edge of lovemaking. His hands found her ribcage and his thumbs traced the bottom of her pert breasts. Heavy with lust, her eyes connected with his and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

She was perfect. From her cherry red lips to her curvy waist, everything about her was intoxicating. Maybe tonight he would have sex with her a few more times before leaving, that is–if she would have him.

Everyone assumed they fought because they hated each other. Quite the opposite. During this time of their little arrangement, Vegeta found he was now not just thinking about her body. Sometimes he caught himself admiring her genius, especially when she fixed things so quickly. Other times, between verbal melees playing out in the kitchen, he was impressed with her wit. She knew exactly the right thing to say to rile him up, a catalog of insults so creative and funny that he was downright impressed with her viciousness.

On Vegetasei, she would've been revered. Strong, smart and beautiful. She would've made a beautiful queen.

She dipped her hips faster, letting his length fill her to the brim. She closed her eyes and moaned. Vegeta grabbed her hands and pulled them to the headboard, interlocking their fingers as she kept gyrating. Vegeta caught her mouth with his, sliding his tongue against hers. Long tendrils of blue hair fell onto his face and he inhaled deeply: Sugar. She smelled like sugar.

"Cum in me," she whispered into his mouth. He smiled against her lips.

"Greedy girl," he growled.

"I need you to cum in me." She begged.

"Say please."

He lifted his hips, slamming her into him. She let out a cry of pleasure and pushed her forehead to his.

"Please," she begged again. "Please."

This was what drove him nearly mad: Knowing just how badly she wanted him–how badly she needed him. He needed her too. His cock pulsated inside her and she cried out again, her release building. In her eyes was a flood of passion and the lustful desire spreading across her face made him spill over.

He let go inside of her warm center just as she contracted into her own orgasm. With a few more thrusts, he let her ride out her pleasure, watching as cries escaped her lips. He caught them in his and bit her bottom lip.

"Oh, yes, Vegeta," she moaned. "Oh my…god."

They shared a gentle kiss before Bulma rolled off of him. Chest heaving, she laid on the bed and let herself bask in the sex afterglow. Usually this was the time Vegeta stood straight up and without so much a word left back for his room. She thought she was going to have to blurt her question out as he made his way out the door, but instead Vegeta laid there for a few beats himself.

Something was going on in his mind, she just knew it. She wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

"Vegeta." She cautiously turned to him, letting her fingers trace lines on his chest. "I have a question to ask you."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Well," her finger swirled over a deep scar. "It's a little outside our arrangement."

"Just spit it out." His heart pounded in his chest. Whatever she needed to ask him, he was going to do it. He didn't give a shit about their arrangement anymore. But she didn't need to know that, not just yet.

"There's our gala and our product launch." She looked up at him tentatively, waiting for him to jump out of bed and take off. "And, well, I need a date."

"A date?" He had never been on a date before. "What does that entail?"

She was shocked that he didn't outright refuse, so she decided to press her luck.

"Oh it's nothing too serious." She smiled at him. "You just dress up really nice and come to the party with me. You get free food and everything."

She bit her lip when she was met with silence. There was no way–none whatsoever–that he would agree to this, right? Even though they had been so intimate in exploring every single part of each other's bodies, they never really shared moments like that. It was a big ask and she was prepared to be turned down.

"Alright," he said flatly. "I'll go."

She blinked. "What?"

"I'll go." He shrugged. "Why not."

She was confused. All day she had psyched herself up to ask him, expecting it might require more than a little bit of persuasion. He had agreed so quickly. It didn't make sense.

"Are you sure?" She pressed, now shifting upward in the bed so their eyes were level.

"Do you want me to go or not, woman?" He sneered. "I said I would go, so I will go."

Was this a trap? Was this part of the game that took place outside their arrangement, the one where they tore each other down for fun?

"I mean, yes, I absolutely want you to go," she stammered. "I just figured you might put up more of a fight, that's all."

He crossed his arms and glowered. "Well, I'm not."

"I can see that."

He sunk into her soft pillows. Man, her bed was comfortable. Much more comfortable than his. Usually by now he would already be in his room, but he was tired and he wanted one more go at Bulma before he went to sleep. He had wanted to stay on more than one occasion, though he never did.

Each passing day, the wall he built between them crumbled brick by brick. He only left for self preservation. Now, he wasn't sure if it was worth the slog back to his room. Especially since he was her "date."

"I know how you can reward me for my kind deed, woman." He rested his hands behind his head and stretched out his abdomen. "I think I might like those pretty lips wrapped around my dick."

She turned red. Warmth pooled in her stomach as she watched his manhood grow again.

"As you wish, my prince." She flashed a grin before snaking her way down the bed and resting herself between his hips. "I aim to please."


The party was as opulent as Bulma expected. The ballroom was cavernous with an open ceiling that sprawled two stories high. From it hung delicate crystals along rows of metal cords, making curtains of stones that glittered in the red lights from up above. On each table, candles bathed guests in a warm yellow glow and illuminated huge golden vases that held bouquets of white roses.

It was so glamorous and so refined. She loved it.

Vegeta, on the other hand, seemed much less thrilled. All of these people–all of this mingling–was not what Vegeta considered a good time. As if he didn't feel out of place already, it didn't help that Dr. Briefs nearly fell over when he saw Vegeta in his tuxedo, not so subtly whispering to his daughter that she was experiencing a bit of Stockholm Syndrome. Capsule Corp., employees who recognized Vegeta stayed far, far away–that is, except for Hiro, who slapped Vegeta on the back as if they were old friends.

The only highlight of the evening was watching Bulma walk around in that dress. It was skin tight with a low back that cut out at the sides. And while the neck was high, it made her breasts look unspeakably delicious. He thought she was gorgeous in anything she wore, but this was something he had never seen before.

And watching her talk so passionately about the company and her project? It sent him into overdrive. Her work gave her the same satisfaction he got from his training, and witnessing first hand how she commanded a room made him want to take her to bed right then and there.

He noticed a lot of things about her now that he hadn't before: How she wiggled her nose when concentrating hard, how she brushed her hair behind her ear when she was feeling shy. How she doubled down even when she was wrong–especially when she was wrong–and how she could always tell when she was winning a fight.

Once, when he was young, he asked his father how he and his mother came to be. A hostile man, the king did not often indulge his son in stories that did not involve mass genocide or conquest. Once–and only once–did he explain to his son that he saw his mother standing across the room and knew that the rest of his life he would protect her at all costs.

Looking at her now, he felt the exact same way. Vegeta had heard about love as he traveled the universe, never once thinking he would find it himself, but watching her cascade around this room, knowing and wanting every single part of her, he couldn't deny what had long stared him right in the face.

He loved her. He loved her so incredibly much.

"Vegeta," Bulma came over to him where he stood, looping her arm in his and bringing him into a group of people. They were all middle aged men or older, dressed in smart suits and tuxedos. "These are a few members of our board of directors." She smiled at them and then smiled at him. He nodded his head.

"Vegeta, we've heard a lot about you," said a man with salt and pepper hair and a short, clean beard. "Dr. Briefs and Bulma here say you test out many of their machines."

Vegeta was stunned. She talked about him? "Yes, yes I do."

"Absolutely fabulous," said a man with red hair slicked back so much it almost looked wet. "Excellent indeed. That Briefs family sure knows how to build things, do they not?"

Bulma's grin grew three times in size.

"They're very hospitable hosts," Vegeta said politely. Despite his rough exterior, Vegeta was once a prince. He had a sense of decorum.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, I think we have a bit more mingling to do," Bulma said, winking at one of the men who let out a hoot of laughter. "Thank you, gentlemen."

The two walked away from the group, still arm-in-arm, and found an empty table to sit at. As soon as she hit the seat, Bulma let out a sigh of relief.

"My feet are killing me," she said. "But at least the party is fun."

The party didn't matter. Nothing mattered other than her.

Bulma sat back and took a sip of her wine when she realized Vegeta was staring at her. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"What?" She laughed nervously. "Is there something on my face?"

He shook his head. "You look beautiful tonight, woman."

Her cheeks went red. "Vegeta," she said breathlessly, chuckling out of awkwardness. "That's very nice of you to say."

Her gaze met his. Electricity brewed between them and Bulma understood. Whatever their relationship had been was changing into something much more serious. This wasn't an arrangement, nor was it temporary. The Saiyan prince had gotten under her skin so deeply, she didn't know if she would ever be the same. The thought of it thrilled her and scared her to death.

Her stomach twisted and her nerves fluttered. Her greatest enemy–her biggest detractor–was now the man she…the man who…

"Want to go somewhere more private?" She said quickly, stopping herself from thinking about her feelings. If he didn't feel the same, and she was sure he didn't, she couldn't bear it. There were other ways to burn off this kind of temptation.

Grabbing his hand, she rose from the table and weaved her way through the crowd and up the stairs where a balcony lined the room. Down below, all the people mingled, blissfully unaware that Bulma and Vegeta had slipped away. She looked around to see if anyone was standing nearby, and when she realized they were alone, they snuck into a meeting room just off the hall.

Still holding his hand, she brought him inside.