Temptation
A/N: I couldn't leave well enough alone myself, and I've been trying to figure out how to continue this guy because I just can't quit Vegebul smut. Is this graceful, beautifully orchestrated smut? Not at all. But this was what my brain came up with, so here ya go. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the reviews, guys! :)
UPDATE: RATING M now for swearing and sexual imagery!
Rest had not come any easier since that night, or any of the others following. Bulma cursed the dusk and dawn, knowing she'd brought this entirely on herself. Why couldn't she leave well enough alone?
No, her unchecked labido and lack of self-control had led her down a path she wasn't nearly prepared for.
Every day for the past week, she had done everything she could to avoid the Saiyan prince, embarrassed with herself over the whole incident. Surprisingly (or perhaps not), he had seemed more than happy to oblige her, and Bulma had not seen hide nor hair of Vegeta during that time.
In the flesh, anyway…
However, come evening, the only peace she could find was in her now all-too-familiar fingers working herself toward tense, shuddering completion, as fabricated, scandalous images of she and Vegeta played on a regular rotation.
Which left her just momentarily satisfied and yet altogether still frustrated.
And so she burrowed herself away in the family lab, working on fail-safes and schematics, eyelids heavy and head pounding in her efforts to thwart daytime ponderings of anything unrelated to science and technology.
Bulma bent over the new plans for an update to the Capsule hoverjet. Mostly complete, it just needed a few more aesthetic touches that she could only trust herself with the final design. She bit the eraser end of her pencil and furrowed her brow, wondering whether or not they should add that mini-cooler under the front console as opposed to the rear storage, and whether or not it could potentially mess with the circu-
SLAM!
Papers, pencils, and her third cup of coffee went teetering off every edge of her desk, as her stomach was thrust forward into the cold steel by something terrible and firm behind her. She sucked in a harsh breath and seized up in instinctual terror, her wide eyes flying toward the gloved hand at her right that was pushing a sputtering droid into the tabletop.
Sparks from the robot licked around his fingers as he crushed it further down and dented it into her desk. Bulma swallowed, acutely aware of every inch of Vegeta that was now imposing against her back.
"Woman," he seethed. While she couldn't see his features, but she had a pretty spot-on idea of how they were likely contorted.
As his warmth began to radiate through her lab coat and clothes, her initial fear began to ebb into something a little more tainted. She cleared her throat and shifted minutely from where she was pinned between him and her desk.
He growled again behind her, and she shivered.
"Vegeta," she replied, as plainly as possible, hating the breathy catch in her throat. "I take it there's something you need?"
Her cool tone appeared to only serve him more fury, and he sniffed dangerously in her ear. God, he was absolutely pulsing behind her, and Bulma squeezed her thighs together tightly against the throb in her core.
"As a matter of fact, woman, I do. Let's start with some equipment that isn't absolute shit the minute I engage it in training."
She glanced toward the offending droid, and pursed her lips. "I didn't make that one; my dad did. Take it up with-"
His solid torso threatened forward, and she gasped softly as his hips pressed her further against the desk. It was getting a little harder to breathe, and she wasn't sure if that was from being trapped against the metal, or from the persistence of his rock-hard body flush against her.
"I don't care for your excuses. I want it fixed- I want them all fixed, today."
"I have things to do-" A sharp inhale through her nose, as he pressed menacingly into her backside again. Her hands braced against the edge of her desk to prevent her pelvis from crushing into it. "-Besides answer your every whim, Your Highness."
Before he could retort, she lurched backward into him as best she could, and immediately he responded with another hard push forward. She gave a small cry and grit her teeth, and the rumble of his chest behind her signaled a sinister chuckle.
"You'll do whatever I tell you to do, bitch," came his gutteral reply, and her chest and face felt instantly hot. "Or-"
"Or else what?" Bulma cut into him as nastily as she could, giving her hips another roll into him and-
There.
She felt something unmistakable and hard twitch under her bottom. Her belly knotted, and she gave another good curl backward. This time, to her awe, he returned with a smaller thrust in kind.
"What are you gonna do, Vegeta?"
He snarled, the hand not destroying the battle droid gripping at the edge of the desk to her left, as he rutted into her bottom. Her lashes fluttered as she tried to keep her breathing even. Evidence of his arousal was very firmly now pressing into her as she returned each small bump backward as inconspicuously as she could.
"You're lucky I haven't shown you yet," he huffed, and she couldn't mistake the hitch in his breath as he continued his restrained movements. "With your foul mouth and insubordination..."
With each rock against her, she had to bite back a moan, as the front of her trousers pressed up and up against the edge of her desk in just the right spot. She hung her head and her mouth fell open as she gyrated with what little motion she was permitted, confined by his massive body.
Against her ear, Vegeta's breathing came in ragged puffs, and he whispered viciously into her hair, "I could kill you."
She should snap back, shove him off, sneer and be offended by his mere presence, but her body was a traitor to lust, and Bulma only just caught a groan in her throat before it could slip out and give her away.
"V-Vegeta," she finally managed, and he bucked forcefully into her rump. Her clit bumped the table and she hissed through her teeth. "What-"
"Shut up," he snapped and suddenly his hips were moving in faster, shorter rolls, and she felt his damp forehead rest against the nape of her neck. His hot breath shot tingles down her spine and straight into her center. She followed each quick movement of his pelvis with a little more force, and when he moaned into her skin, she knew immediately she was going to need more than this.
His fingers to her left clenched and unclenched and she arched to meet him back and the desk against her front. The sound of their panting and the creaking of the desk beneath them was all that filled the quiet, whirring of the lab.
Steadily, that dull ache was beginning to crest toward a peak and oh god, was she really gonna-?
But Vegeta's hips began to stutter in his rutting against her, his thighs smacking right into the backs of her own. He hissed a sharp fuckkk and, before she could think, he abruptly pitched the remnants of the droid to the floor.
He was gone, her body left cold and frozen in time without him hot against her.
She daren't turn around, listening to just her own harsh breathing and his hurried footfalls as evacuated the lab behind her.
Bulma stared down at her hands, fisted now in the design prints she had been scouring over, as her chest heaved.
Well … what the fuck was she supposed to do with this now?
