What the fuck are you doing, Woman?" He exploded the moment they were alone and away from eavesdroppers.

Unruffled by his temper, her hands rested on her hips as she pressed her weight to the back of her heels; it was her 'that won't work on me' pose, and she knew she looked so hot when she did that.

"The same thing you did to me! Turning you hot and hard before leaving you high and dry."

Vegeta started pacing back and forth in the small office, his fingers intertwined in his hair, and she was sure he would rip it out.

"And what I was supposed to do? Keep fucking you once a month? Or in your house so that fucking idiot had a front seat?"

Bulma crossed her arms in defense, but her face was rebellious, one brow up and a chilled smirk; that was the pose of someone who already knew the answer. Forget that she looked sexy, he hated her cockiness. "You didn't mind before. What changed?"

He stopped, caught in her trap. The man would never admit that he was jealous of her husband. "I don't like an audience," he affirmed with disgust, but she knew that by now.

Hell, she hadn't liked her own idea after he stopped joining her at the swinger parties. She went too far and paid the price. It wasn't even something she wanted to do; she hated that her husband had enjoyed the number, but when Vegeta stepped in for her, defending her carnal wits, the ache between her legs grew, and the only man who could calm her was right in front her. Her body went vivid with the idea 'Show this man how to fuck me.'

However, her heart grew wild when she saw his dark eyes piercing into her soul. There was something behind his irises, a potent emotion that she didn't want to voice because it intimidated her.

Was she projecting her desires in the eyes of the man?

Then he kissed her like he was the thirstiest man in world that had just found a river.

At that moment, it didn't matter what he felt, because she acknowledged it was love that was running below her lust. She could be a married woman, but Vegeta owned her body and heart and could do whatever he pleased with her.

He explored her body like it was the map of a hidden treasure, and she wanted to shower him with gold. To her consternation, he stopped her and demanded the most outrageous request. It wasn't until he rode untamed into her, vociferating his obscure wishes, that she understood. If she wanted to be his, they had to keep the secret between them. And damn, she wanted to be possessed by him.

But her heart bursted with joy for a few days. After that day, he didn't attend any more of their dates, and her core bled with misery. He may own her, but she didn't own him.

And now, here he was, asking her nonsense when he was the one who owed her an explanation.

Vegeta regained his stoic stance, but she learned to read the true meanings in his nonchalant demeanor; she would have to drag the truth out of him.

"What were you expecting from me? After you told me to say his name, why did you run away?"

The question caught him off guard because his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

Because I want you; because I want you to think of me, only me.

Refusing to answer her, he turned and gave her his back, maybe to think of a lie, but it was too late; her heart was beating unrestrained while a new belief invaded her thoughts.

Can I own this man?

Her undisciplined body was drawn to his powerful form, excited by the idea of seducing the man to the point of seeing his restraint crumble under her forbidden impulses. Her digits pressed his upper back, feeling his muscles relax under her magic touch; her hands went down to his bottom, but she maneuvered them and caressed his shaft from behind; she didn't need much action, he was already aroused.

Bulma nibbled his ear gently, leaving kisses on his neck while speaking, making the little hairs there stand and a shiver run down his spine.

"I've been thinking about you, every thrust you gave me, all the games you let me play with you... our talks, or should I say our fights?"

He twirled irritated, holding her hands in his as he scowled at her.

"Enough. What the fuck happened with your precious reputation? You want everyone in here to know or what?"

"To know what? That you want me"

His eyes went to the door and back at her gaze. Vegeta was undecided whether to go to the door and leave her there or to engage her in whatever dangerous game was she playing. He tensed under her scrutiny, and she knew this was the point to fight if she wanted to win this war. Abruptly she fell to her knees, and he gripped the desk behind him when her hands expertly undid his pants.

He poorly tried to stop her, but she knew it was going to happen. "Are you insane? Someone could hear us!"

With a wicked smile, Bulma regarded him from below his waist. "Then you better keep quiet."

She freed his member from the restraint of his boxers, and the tip pointed sharply at her. How had he tried to stop her when his body obviously wanted her?

She licked the tip of his head stealing an inaudible gasp from him, and that's all she needed to keep going. She worked him gloriously from base to top, her tongue rapidly was replaced by her whole mouth, and he was at her mercy.

Had he locked the door?

One of her hands played with the sack of his balls, and he couldn't stop his knees from bending so he had to sit in the chair next to him. She stopped to grab some air, but her hands didn't leave him unattended.

"Like that much?" She teased him, firmly working him up and down. Words failed him, and he nodded desperately in case she was thinking of stopping.

Bulma realized how strained his body was; his hands had tightened over the chair armrests; his thighs were shaking a little, and his breath accelerated in seconds. Briefly, she wondered how long he had gone without cumming.

Maneuvering one hand under her lab coat, she slid down the straps of her dress, and her bra was in his view. His hands removed her bra, and she almost giggled. Two second ago he didn't want this to happen, and now he was more eager than her, but the black depths of his eyes ate her mounds in her naked glory, laying an ardent cloak of greed in her system that every silly thought she had was replaced with pure lust.

She took him in her mouth once more, more avidly than before, her crevice heavy with saliva, until smoothly shifting for her mounds, his dick wrapped between her warm breasts.

Slowly and loosely she began to drag his thick length against her soft skin, every slide more and more slicked with his precum. As the prison of her breasts narrowed around him, his heart started beating faster than ever; the room suddenly felt like a freezer and he, a volcano ready to erupt, fueled with the hot lava that was her body.

His hips danced in harmony with the bounce of her tits, and her pink nipples looked so shiny and wet that his mouth watered instantly. There was rare shine in his eyes, in the way he looked at her, as if he was a lucky man underneath a rain of money desperately trying to catch every single bill. He met her up and down movements, wanting to grab everything she was offering.

Would he do it? Accept everything she was offering? Freedom, lust, passion, need and much more.

Whatever his thinking evaporated when he felt the tip of his head being licked with the gentle touch of her tongue, the softy grainy terrain of her cavern pressing briefly on his sensitive flesh every time her torso slid down on him.

A unrepressed groan was his warning, but she ignored it, instead she quickened her speed; her breath was uneven, but his air completely gone along with his control. Like a teenage boy in his firsts days, he came unable to stop it; his seeds spread in her guilty cleavage, and his fingers intertwined in her hair with desperate need.

Please, don't let go.

His head fell back as he was steadying his heart and lungs. She had left him undone and the outside world didn't matter.

Too bad for him, like a cold bucket of ice, Bulma hit him with reality.

"I'm leaving him."

It was time to know who would stand as the winner. With her attack, she had gambled her longing for the man; she would know if she had succeeded in claiming ownership of him.

Would he take what she offering? He seemed to want, but…

"Why?" The furious eyes beneath his frowning brows only highlighted the loathing in his hoarse voice.

"What do you mean why? I can't be with him when the only thing I think about is being underneath you!" She adjusted her bra and dress properly, while he accommodated his pants.

The beating of her heart was threating to make a hole in her chest when the man had turned impassive, as if she hadn't confessed how much she wanted him.

Why couldn't he take it?

Shit… He really loves his wife, doesn't he?

"You knew the rules of this stupid deal. Don't blame me for the poor choice of husband you made, do both us a favor and don't look for me ever again, just because we are good between the sheets doesn't mean we should go further."

She snorted without mirth at the irony that they had never used sheets; one hand scratched her scalp with irritation, taking away her 'happy' demeanor. She undid the folds of her dress and put it in place. She was making time, stretching this moment with the man that had worshiped her body and stole her heart just to leave them scattered on the floor.

Did she imagine everything? Was she that desperate to be worshiped like a queen that she had imagined his yearning for her? Was she his whore?

With a grave expression, she questioned, "Are you sure?"

Please, say no.

"Yes."

Her bangs covered her clear eyes when her head fall down with purpose; a few tears were at the corner of her eyes, and she didn't want him to see them.

Well, if he loves her that much, he's gonna freak out when he finds out.

Bulma was leaving, but at the door paused and without looking at him announced, "I'm still leaving him. I sent the divorce papers one week ago."

She cranked her head to see him one last time; his stoic expression was the last thing she saw before going out of the room.

Out of his life.