Disclaimer: Rated M for Language and Adult Content. I don't own Dragonball Z. Thanks!

Chapter 4

She was formulating a plan that would guarantee he would be begging her to take him into her bed and give him release. She had several things to work with; first being his jealousy. That was the most potent thing that she could hope to use. It was easy to see that Trunks's weakness was his pride, and that pride made him a very jealous person when he was slighted. But he wouldn't be jealous if he wasn't attracted to her. Which brought her to her next asset: his attraction. Ah, yes, the lynchpin of the entire operation…why she even thought about pursuing him as her prey. Then there was the final card she could pull: guilt. It would be difficult to execute, but, she knew that Trunks felt a certain amount of guilt about how Pan acted. He had been (and still was to an extent) a major facet of Pan's life. He had been there the whole time she was growing up, and she had idolized him. The man was dense enough to fully believe that his bad habits paved the way for hers. No…it was all Saiyan genetics undoubtedly. Jealously, lust and guilt…the unholy trinity in Pan's arsenal against Trunks, international playboy and her prey. She would have him.

How in the hell had they gotten here? In all her life, she never thought that Trunks would find her attractive in any way that wasn't platonic. Her entire adolescence had been spent crushing on him like he was the be-all-end-all. Of course, those kind of dreams have to die in the name of reality…but, then again, they never die completely. A part of her was still a teenage girl getting all nervous around him and ogling his good-looks. He hadn't lost any of those looks as he got older, either. The man was still the most beautiful creature she had ever and would ever lay eyes on. For anyone to surpass his handsomeness would be criminal…not to mention impossible.

"Kami, Trunks, you're a piece of work," she whispered, looking at a picture of them together with Goten at the beach. Of course, Goten had a sandwich in each hand and a mouthful of chips, while Trunks was giving her bunny ears and she was getting ready to tackle him as payback. It was an adequate summation of their relationship: not at all serious. The other night in the gravity room was probably the most serious they had ever gotten. Thinking back on that pissed her off. Just like him to drag her out of some place and treat her like a child to be reprimanded. He should take a look in the mirror himself, she thought hotly.

"Idiot," she grumbled, turning away from the picture. She didn't know if things used to be simpler or if they just seemed simpler now that she was older, but she longed for what they used to have as friends. She and Trunks had been inseparable until he took over the entirety of Capsule. Kami, they had so much fun back then…skipping class, skipping work, sparring, going to movies, partying with Bra and Goten, swimming, hanging around…so many things. Then, he got to be the president. Everything but the rotating door into his bedroom ended in his personal life.

Yeah, she had become really close to Bra, but Bra had gotten married to Goten. They were still really close but Pan didn't want to be the third wheel all the time. She had had friends from college, but they all seemed to have moved off after graduation or had gotten married and immediately started families. She still saw some of them, but there wasn't much to the friendship.

But, hell, what difference did it make? Trunks was an egotistical ass she would knock down a few levels before sending him on his way like he did with girls. She knew very well how to play the game he played; she may have actually been better at it. She smiled at the thought. Yeah, she would work the jealousy angle like a professional.

Step one: Incite Jealously

The next week, Pan just so happened (on purpose) to be at a club that Trunks was partying at with some very important, influential, rich people. Of course, Trunks had the most influence, money and leverage of all of them, but, nonetheless, the others were powerful as well. As it would happen, he was talking to a well-endowed, blond-headed young woman with big blue eyes, plump red lips, and scant clothing. Pan made her way up to the VIP suite and slipped a glass of champagne off of the waiter's tray and made sure to slide past Trunks close enough that he turned to look at her while she went to talk to a man who had worked for her Grandpa Satan until he was able to open his own dojo. Now he had four very successful gyms. Trunks looked over the shoulder at the minx…she was a tease. Her little black dress dipped in the back just enough to see the outline of her shoulder blades. Her hair was up in chopsticks but falling down in a way that was too sexy to be called messy. To top it all off, she had on four inch stilettos. She gracefully held her champagne flute, showing off the red nail polish that matched the red of her lipstick. He turned back to the woman he was talking to, trying to listen to her long and involved story about how she had divorced her husband due to infidelity, which somehow voided their prenup.

But Trunks couldn't even halfway pay attention to the woman, glancing past her to watch Pan chat up some guy he couldn't place but knew he had seen before. She laughed at something he'd said, playfully touching his chest as she laughed. He, of course, was smitten. Then she took the opportunity to lean up and whisper something in his ear, which made him visibly blush, even in the dim lighting and across the room. Trunks tried to hold a mask of outward indifference, even though he was not feeling indifferent on the inside.

"Did I say something wrong, Mr. Briefs?" the young lady asked him.

"Oh, no. I'm sorry. I've been working a lot lately and was just wondering if I had emailed someone I was supposed to email. I just can't remember. I'm sorry. I'm listening." But he wasn't. She continued on, merrily speaking, while Trunks tried his damndest to make out Pan's conversation with the man across the room…but it was too loud. Then he tried placing the guy; he was obviously very fit. He had money but not as much as some here, but he also was not showy like the others. Trunks knew him from somewhere, but wherever that was, it was slipping through cracks in his mind. "Would you like another cosmopolitan?" Trunks asked, noticing her drink was empty.

"Yes, that would be nice."

"I'll go downstairs and order it. The server seems to have taken a smoke break or something." So Trunks took off down the staircase that over looked the dance floor, headed toward the extravagant bar that featured bartenders who did bottle tossing and flipping and all kind of shenanigans for tips. He found someone to get him a cosmopolitan and a Manhattan. While he waited, he looked up at the VIP area, which was open and looking over the entire club. He saw Pan sitting with both the man from before and someone he identified as an up-and-coming male pop star. Kami help him. Trunks collected the drinks and took them back to his lady friend, who launched into another story about Kami-knows-what. Trunks downed the Manhattan.

Pan took hold of her two men's hands and led them down the stairs to the dance floor. Trunks inwardly groaned. She was going to be the death of him. "Do you want to dance?" he asked.

"Um…well…"

"It will be fun, I promise."

"All right." And he led her downstairs, following a little bit behind Pan. Needless to say, his lady friend was not good at dancing, which kind of led him to other conclusions about things she wouldn't be good at as well. Pan, on the other hand, was damn near making a scene. Sandwiched between two men, gliding between them and against them in a way that was so fluid that it wasn't even dancing. It was sex. They were entranced…aroused and apparently, so were a few people watching the spectacle. Her dress was slowly sliding up her long, smooth thighs…her hair held up in that sexy messy way…lips pouty and eyes half-lidded. Trunks felt his ki flare in response to the wanton display. She glanced over at him and winked before running her hands the length of one of the men's torsos, stopping just at his beltline. Then she turned away from him, her ass grinding against him as he took her by the hips to hold her closer. She dipped and shimmied…for all intents and purposes, she was a pole dancer and they were the poles. Trunks damned her flexibility.

The girl he was dancing with kept stepping on his toes and was getting a little wobbly, slurring what he assumed were supposed to be suggestions into his ear but they came out unclear. "I'm thinking that it's time for you to head on home before you fall out on me…do you have a ride?"

"No. But I don't want to leave…alone." Trunks gritted his teeth and led her out of the club. He paid cab fare and sent her on her merry way before returning inside. Pan was leading her two lust-sick puppies back up to the VIP area. Trunks stopped by the bar and had two shots of whisky and chased with a beer. He NEVER drank more than one drink while out at a club, and that was typically some kind of expensive champagne. Trekking back upstairs, he found Pan straddling the first man she had talked to in the dark corner of the room, who was seated next to the pop star. Pan slid off the man's lap and took their hands and disappeared into the backroom of the VIP suite…the Vegas of the club. What happens in the backroom, stays in the backroom. Trunks felt physically sick. For Kami's sake, he had visited that room with multiple women at a time, but this was PAN. She was jerking him around to piss him off. That was her life plan. Over the next 15 minutes, his Saiyan hearing couldn't block out the loud groans and Pan's screaming like it was the best sex she had ever had…just like she knew he could hear her. But he wanted to see her when she came out. It was a morbid, cruel desire.

The men came out first, looking overwhelmingly satisfied, although the man she had initially spoken to looked a little ashamed. It hit Trunks like a ton of bricks…that bastard had had a thing for Pan since she was a teenager, hanging around Mr. Satan's gym. He had built his own gyms, which were very successful…for now, Trunks thought to himself. And as for that little pop star boy…his career was done for…caput. Done-so. Pan emerged a moment later. And she looked exactly as good as she did when she went in. There was no shame in her face, no dishevelment. The smell of sex attached itself to her, but she was unshaken. She shot Trunks a grin and walked over to him.

"I was thinking about you the whole time, sweetheart," she whispered in his ear. And she left. Trunks shuddered, not out of repulsion but out of reaction to his unexpected horniness from her words and actions. She was dangerous…and he hadn't been with anyone dangerous like her.

She showed up in his office three days later, popping off to the secretary allegedly guarding his door.

"Not just any employee can traipse into Mr. Briefs—"

"Margie, can it. You're just mad he has slept with every secretary he has ever had but you. If you didn't bitch so damn much, you might have chance." Trunks heard the exchange but could only shake his head. If Margie stopped bitching, she would die. It kept her going. Pan closed the door behind her.

"Hello, Trunks."

"Pan."

"I wanted to know if you would like to spar with me. Your father won't spar with me, so I thought I would ask you."

"What did you do to piss him off and maybe I'll consider it if it is entertaining."

"Nothing worth mentioning. He'd just a sensitive bastard."

"Sensitive? Are we talking about Vegeta, prince of all Saiyans?"

"Yeah. So, he gets irritated when I come in after an escapade and he says I smell of 'weak, puerile human men,' which I have been hearing too long to give a damn. Yesterday, he seemed especially pissed, and told me that he wasn't going to spar until I quit acting like his son, whoring around like a common third-class."

"He has a point…"

"In what manner?"

"Perhaps you should…I don't know…ease up on sex." Pan frowned at him and drew closer to him desk, leaning over in her lab coat and Capsule t-shirt.

"I know that you know how bad an ache it causes leaving it off for a few days. The longest I have gone is three weeks. What about you? A week? Ten days? It's like an illness." Trunks understood but was reluctant to admit it. It had started when he was 23, and he got slapped with the title of being a playboy. He had a rotating door of women, sporadic month-long relationships. He had had a year long relationship with a woman named Iris, but she ended up cheating on him with some pro-sports player. After that, Trunks went back to the revolving door of women.

"Four days," he said.

"You have less self-control than I ever expected. Spar with me."

"I have work."

"It's time for lunch." He sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Forty-five minutes."

"Fine. Meet you there." And she walked out, nothing else. Trunks watched as she left, lab coat drifting behind her.

He showed up in his workout clothes a few minutes later, finding Pan already warming up. She had graciously worn a pair of baggy pants and a tight tank top. Better than her being mostly naked, although slightly disappointing nonetheless.

"Ready for this, Boxer Boy?" she asked.

"I'm always ready, Panny," he said with a cheeky wink.

"I'm sure you are," she replied, rushing at him. She was good, and he was still slacking at training. He was going to have his ass handed to him and hoped to Kami that he didn't have to roll back into the office sporting a black eye or busted lip.

Even for his lack of regular training, Trunks was putting up a decent fight. They weren't using ki blasts, at least not yet. It wasn't his intention of doing anything but some low-key sparring. Pan was definitely the aggressor in the fight, while he had to play the role of defense until the moment when the window for his strike opened. A foot to the side of the head knocked her toward the floor but before she hit, she disappeared and reappeared behind him, clutching her hands together and striking him down to the floor in one hammering blow. He hit the floor but was up and back in fighting stance as she dropped to the floor to match his stance.

"Breaking a sweat, yet?" she asked.

"Not quite. That all you got?"

"Oh, I have a lot more in my arsenal. I just didn't know how far Mr. President wanted to take this on his lunch break." Of course, even though his lunch break was 45 minutes, and he didn't want to return to work beat up, he couldn't sound like a pussy now.

"As far as you can," he replied. And she turned it up a notch. She powered up and began flinging a litany of blasts at him, which he managed to dodge with some effort. He rushed toward her, knocking her feet from under her, which worked insofar as she lost her balance but kicked him in the chin. From there, it was hand-to-hand, down-and-dirty, up-close-and-personal fighting. And the time sailed by without notice. Neither one of them was better than the other, and neither one sought the advantage. It was pure fighting.

Without any spoken words, they eventually settled on the ground, panting and sweating and a little worse-for-wear.

"Good fight, Son."

"Not too bad yourself, Briefs." He glanced at the digital clock by the door. They had been fighting for an hour and a half. But it was worth it. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, smearing blood across the skin. Pan licked her bottom lip, the blood mostly coagulated.

"You have a black eye."

"So do you." They laughed at each other. It was easy to do.

Once he was back at his desk, he found it too difficult to concentrate. His mind was filled with Pan. It was like he had inhaled a love potion and was drunk on lust. But was it just lust…for his friend? His mind didn't want to go beyond that thought. She was good sparring partner. She played the part of a seductress to a tee. But besides being a sexy fighter, he didn't like any of the feelings that he didn't want to name that were creeping into his periphery.

Speaking of feelings, he had a pop star's career to ruin and a gym owner's business to crush. It was only fair, in his opinion. The worst was the gym owner…whatever his name was. Lecherous bastard. He had been lusting after Pan since she had barely hit puberty, which would have been okay, except he was about 10 years her senior. And he had gotten her in the end. It made Trunks's ki rise a bit thinking about it. And there that was that prick pop star. He picked up the phone and made a call to someone at Famous People, who owed him a big favor…and by big, Trunks could sue him at anytime and get every asset the man owned seized.

"Mario? This is Trunks Briefs. I want to cash in on my favor. I don't care what you write but I want Johnny Dazzler's career ended. If you get slapped with a lawsuit, I will settle it. But I want you to either dig something up on him or make something up about him that will turn the world against him. Can you do that?" The affirmative answer was all he needed. Once he got off the phone with Mario, he picked up the phone and called his real estate expansion manager.

"I want to open Capsule Corp gyms across from every Body Perfect gym in West City. I don't care how much the property costs, I don't care what architect you use, and I don't care what contracting company builds it but I want it done in six months…no, three. Coordinate with human resources with hiring employees. And I want to provide superior facilities at cheaper rates than Body Perfect. Profit? I don't care if we lose profit or earn it. I just want the damn gyms built ASAP." And he put the receiver down and felt very accomplished.

Pan showed up at his place the next evening with a bottle of chardonnay and a wicked smile on her lips. Gin had gone home for the evening, and Trunks opened the door. She stood there in a too-little T-shirt and a pair of worn-out jeans.

"To what do I owe this honor?" he asked. It was still a decent hour…only nine o'clock. He had been checking emails and going over some last-minute reports his CFO had turned into him in anticipation of Trunks's upcoming business trip.

"I happened to pass the newsstand in the downstairs lobby earlier today and saw the latest Famous People cover. It seems that a certain pop star by the name of Johnny Dazzler had an attractive rap sheet from his teenage years, ranging from drug charges to domestic assault and battery. They even included his mugshot, along with certified copies of the sentence signed by the judge. When paparazzi asked him for a comment outside of his hotel, he told them to fuck off. And, to top it all off, turns out that he made a snuff film before being scouted as a talent." Mario had done a fine job. The validity of the story was in question, except for the "fuck off" quote, which sounded legit.

"Damn, that is a shame," he said, taking the bottle from her hands and walking into his kitchen to get a couple of wine glasses from the cabinet. He uncorked the bottle, filling their glasses. He handed Pan her glass before settling down out on his couch.

"I was thinking the same thing when I read the article. And then I wondered if my handsome lavender-haired friend might have anything to potentially do with this article."

"I wouldn't know what you are talking about," he said, looking over his glass before taking a sip of the chard. It was pretty good.

"I figured you didn't," she said, quirking a half-smile at him. She kicked off her flip-flops and put her feet in his lap. They were quiet a moment, Trunks rubbing Pan's calf while she closed her eyes. "I also noticed on my way over when I passed Body Perfect that Capsule Corp was gutting a building across the street with a big sign that read, 'Future site of Sculpt Fitness Center.'"

"I guess Gertrude felt like it was a good real estate investment," he answered lightly, setting his glass on the coffee table.

"I suppose so," she said, rubbing the inside of his thigh with her foot. He stopped rubbing her calf and began rubbing her foot. "But I couldn't help but to think that perhaps you were being a naughty boy with too much time on your hands."

"I can never have too much time on my hands," he answered, kneading the ball of her foot.

"You're terrible," she said lightly, the words having no meaning, other than playfulness. He stopped rubbing her foot for a second and looked her in the eyes for a long second.

"Collateral damage," he said. She slid from her position beside him to straddle him.

"I knew you were jealous," she whispered, fingers slipping through his hair. He closed his eyes while she repeated the motion. He held her by her hips, opening his eyes to look at her studying his face. "Just like a Saiyan prince." She curled her body down into his chest like a small child. Then again, her petite stature wasn't much larger than that of a half-grown child. But she was perfect. Her head rested in the crook of his neck; her lips slipped kisses down the curve to the edge of his T-shirt.

The more times he was this close her, the more often he became more drawn to her, like the proverbial moth to flame. And he knew she was a creature that would burn him. Trunks ran his hands up her sides and down around her lower back. Pan knotted her fists in his hair and dragged her lips across his throat, to the other side of his neck, to kiss and bite him even more.

"Panny," he said, quite softly for the fact that he wanted to groan and pin her underneath him.

"Hmm?"

"Since we both know that you came over to tease me and taunt me, can we just skip to the end where you leave me with a hard on and you with a smirk?" She laughed a throaty laugh into the crick of his neck.

"Now why would you think I would do something that cruel?"

"What fun would a cat-and-mouse game be without playing with your prey, right?"

"What good does it do to know the prey knows the plan? Or does he know the plan?"

"There are two sides to this coin, sweetheart." She leaned back and quirked a cocky half-smile.

"Oh is there, Prince?" He winked at her.

"Quite."

"Do tell."

"Well, how I know you are here to only tease is that you brought chardonnay, not a red wine. Secondly, I am certain you are wearing regular underwear and a plain bra. Which, even though I still think it's sexy, you wouldn't have worn if it was truly your intention to get me in bed. Although," he said, flipping her off of him, getting a satisfactory yelp in surprise, then pinning her successfully beneath him. "I don't know if you could stop me or want to stop me if I was dead set on fucking you tonight. I can play this game just as well as you, sweetheart." Her breath caught, and he wondered for a moment if she was nervous. Her entire life, she had been fighting for dominance and was generally successful in bossing him around, just because he'd let her have her way growing up. He'd loved her as a friend then, and now that innocent love was blossoming into something entirely new.

Pan looked up at him; she had lost her cool for a moment. The weight of an imposing man above her was not what she was used to….in fact, it was altogether new. And it was almost terrifying. She had never not been the one with the upper hand. She was supposed to be in control, using her feminine wiles against him to exploit his attraction to her. Not the other way around.

Trunks lips crushed into hers, rough and hard and wonderful. She opened her mouth to his tongue, letting him kiss her deeper and more urgently with passing seconds. And she returned the favor, wondering when the last time it was that she had had such a powerful, perfect kiss. Maybe never. Trunks was processing a very similar thought himself.

He pulled away, leaving Pan feeling bereft but his kisses traced a hot line down her neck to her chest. She felt on fire, her skin too hot, drunk on the feeling of his body on hers, his lips against her skin. Trunks's canines scraped her skin enough to draw blood, and she groaned. Trunks didn't stop to see if she had groaned in pain because he knew she hadn't. The woman had been beaten to a bloody pulp too many times for that to have hurt. He latched his lips around the small wound and suckled for a moment, smiling with satisfaction as she groaned more loudly, breathing his name, knotting her fingers in his hair.

He moved to the bottom of the v-neck and deft fingers tore the fabric in a quick pull. "Hey! I like this shirt!" she said indignantly.

"I'll buy you a new one," he said absently, eyes attached to the perfectly proportioned breasts in the plain white bra. He had spent years seeing damn lacy underthings, frilly and delicate. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them and the sex that they promised would follow, but this was how women usually went about life. In plain, no-frills bras. And he thought for a moment that he wouldn't mind seeing Pan in an everyday bra, with everyday panties for the rest of his life. She could throw in her lace as desired, but he didn't care. These thoughts flitted through his mind but his conscious didn't even register them as particularly unusual.

The clasp was in the front, making his life easier. Her breasts were free, and he looked at them shamelessly…they were perfect. Symmetrical, proportionally sized and not overly large. Her nipples were already hard with arousal. Her nipples weren't the only thing hard...she was rubbing her leg against his hard-on. Minx. Kami, everything about Pan was perfect today…Why had he never noticed this before? He had stopped kissing her, and she made a whining sound.

"Trunks…"

"I was admiring," he said softly. She snorted. He fell upon her, taking her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it hard enough to elicit a gasp from Pan, who wrapped a freed leg around his own; her body squirmed below him, quiet moans of pleasure coming from her mouth. His other hand palmed her breast, while he bit at the hard peak already in his mouth. Her hips pressed upwards into his, fists knotted in his hair.

Maybe the playboy Trunks Briefs had earned his stripes in his years of "whoring around," as Vegeta would have put it. Pan's mind was foggy with painful pleasure and throbbing need to have him inside of her. He was throwing off her plans, but she didn't even care. His lips, tongue and teeth were working magic on her over-sensitive nipples, and she didn't miss his sneaky attempt at carefully unbuttoning her old Levis.

Her intention had been to come over, drink some wine, chide him about his destruction of her one-time lovers, and wind him up and go on home. It had shifted to something entirely different. He had hooked his fingers inside the edges of her jeans, and in one fell swoop, pulled them off of her as he stood up. It was a completely fluid movement.

"You've done that before," she accused. He shrugged.

"Beginners luck." Pan lay on his couch, her T-shirt and bra open to him; she was shrugging them off, looking a little miffed at her torn shirt. She lay topless in pink cotton bikini cut panties. The sight made him groan like he was some 15-year-old boy catching a glimpse at a breast. "I never imagined you in pink…but it is incredibly hot. Now stand up."

"What?"

"Get up." He pulled her up in front of him. Her hair fell down her shoulders in black sheets, almost covering her breasts. He pulled her close, leaning down to kiss her, more tenderly than before. Trunks picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I could fuck you senseless any day of the week, sweetheart. That much I can promise." He began walking back to his bedroom, dropping on his bed unceremoniously. "And I know you'd have more fun than you'd ever had in your life. And I have no doubt that I could fuck you just as hard as I want, and you would take it. Because you want it. Right?"

He stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at her sprawled across his blankets. She pressed a foot up against his chest, hooking her other foot behind his thigh, pulling him closer to the bed. She shrugged indifferently to the question. "Men make promises that they can't keep." He smirked, an exact replica of his father's patented smirk. Before she could even react, her panties were ripped from her body, and she was tossed further up on his bed.

"Here's a promise," he answered, forcing her legs apart and burying his face right into her pussy. She was already sopping wet. Kami. Woman was going to kill him from want. He made one passing lick up her lips and blew a soft breath on her clit. Her body at gone limp at the sensation; he grinned to himself. He wrapped his hands back up around the tops of her thighs and settled in, licking and tonguing in and out of her pussy, holding her thighs at her hips to keep her from bucking. She was going to endure this on his terms.

She tasted good. Going down on women was not something that he did regularly. It's not that he had a problem with it or was bad at it; he usually didn't have time before the woman was stripping him naked and begging him to be inside her. Right now, he had no rush. She was making these delicious sounds of enjoyment, balling up his sheets in her hands. He was being cruel…going slow when she was overly horny. He slid her tongue in and out of her pussy, feeling the muscles try to work on holding his tongue there. He bit at the insides of her thighs, licking back down to nibble at the silky, slick folds that had opened for him.

"Kami, Trunks, get the hell on with it!" she complained, twisting her restrained body as much as she could.

"But it's not fun for me if it doesn't last," he said, eyes locking with hers. While holding her gaze, his tongue slid across the surface of her clit and she groaned loudly.

"Trunkkkssss." He sucked her clit but stopped to tongue fuck her before she came. Innumerable times he did this, until the sheets beneath her were soaked with her own juices and his saliva. "If you don't let me come, I sweat to Kami I will break your arms and do it myself." He laughed at her.

"Fine then. If you broke my arms, it wouldn't be as good." He licked a ring around the small knot and bit it, less gently that he might have been inclined to do at other times. She cried out but he didn't stop. He latched to her, sucking as hard as he could without causing inordinate pain, all the while flicking his tongue over the target. She had wrapped her legs around his neck as he relinquished his grip on her thighs. She rolled her hips and bucked against him, waiting to reach that peak. Her body grew hot, and her muscles began to move toward an imminent contraction. Trunks knew it, too, rising up to a sitting position to get the best angle possible. Her hips thrust more erratically, her moans were louder and louder and her breathing was short. It was soon. He plunged two fingers deep inside of her, moving them up and stroking her inside. That did it.

"GODDAMMIT, TRUNKS! OH GODDAMN! Oh, I'm com—" She tightened around his fingers, and he kept sucking on her clit as she arched her back as far off of the bed as possible. She had her fingers tangled in her own hair, and Trunks watched the orgasm wash over her like a wave. He was pretty sure that if he had been a lesser man, she would have snapped his neck with her legs. She was screaming out incoherent words, and, if he hadn't been wiser, he would have thought she had never actually made it to an orgasm. Her legs began to loosen, and she pushed him back from her pussy. He couldn't help but give one more lick across the surface of her now terribly oversensitive clit, making her jerk involuntarily. She was watching him, half-lidded eyes sated. He pulled his fingers out her slowly, finding them coated and slick with her come. He stuck them in his mouth, licking off the result of her orgasm, tasting her and making a mental note of just how rewarding it was to taste her. She slipped her legs off of his shoulders and curled up, a smile on her lips. Trunks fell down beside her, rolling to one side to look at her.

"Shut up before you say anything, boxer boy. Whatever arrogance you are about to spout, can it." She pulled her naked body across his. Kissing him on the cheek. "I'm too tired to hear it." He caught her mouth and kissed her deeply.

"Sleeping here?" he asked.

"Yeah." He stood up and stripped down to his boxers and laid back down, pulling her curled body into his. She huddled even more closely to him and was already asleep when he kissed her on top of the head and wrapped his arm more tightly around her. When he woke up in the morning, she was gone. And a sudden empty feeling filled his gut. It hadn't crossed his mind that he would be treated just like other guys.

R&R!

I will continue to update!