If anyone noticed how quickly they disappeared from the gathering, Vegeta didn't give a damn. He had waited long enough, his entire being wound up tight after the day they'd had.
After she had…
He pulled her into a bridal carry and took off before she even had time to yelp, flying through the air at a speed she was unused to. She threw her arms around his neck, then proceeded to scold him for not letting her say goodbye to 'their' friends. He tuned her out, for once without meaning to; his focus was entirely on her tiny, weak, yet forceful right hand holding onto his shoulder. The increase in his breathing had nothing to do with the speed he was flying at.
They were back at the compound in record time and he wasted no time, opting to land directly on their balcony rather than coming through the front door as she always insisted. The balcony doors were closed, but he disintegrated the glass before walking straight in and deposited his miffed wife on the bed.
To avoid disturbances, he locked the door to the hallway faster than she could see, then pulled off a couple of closet doors to block out the new opening to the balcony.
"Vegeta, what the hell-" she shouted, but he silenced her with a passionate kiss, crawling onto the bed to her. He cradled her face gently, even as he pressed forward and leaned over her sitting form on the bed, slowly pushing her to lie down. She objected weakly, but the sound turned into a moan when his tongue invaded her mouth and massaged hers with all the passion he possessed.
One of his hands traveled down her delicate neck, over her right shoulder and down her arm until he reached her wrist. He pulled back from her delectable lips and lifted her right hand, turning it over to tenderly press a kiss to her palm.
Did she know? Could she fathom the effect it had on him when she slapped the God of Destruction?
He knew why she had done it. She'd seen him give up in the fight against Beerus, ready to sacrifice himself in hopes that it could appease the almighty being, and she had done the only thing she could to stop him.
In true Bulma Briefs fashion, she had slapped Beerus. She'd been aware of the danger - she was no fool - yet she had been ready to risk her life for Vegeta's. And to save his pride, she'd offered a poor excuse: that the divine feline had ruined her birthday; even willing to reveal her age to distract the audience from the fact that she'd saved her supposedly powerful husband.
Everyone had been so focused on his incredible power-up in response to Beerus' retaliation that they'd failed to realize who had shown true strength that day: her.
His wife. His mate. His Bulma.
He held the hand she'd broken earlier that day when she slapped the unbreakable God. In the moment she'd shown no outward sign of that particular injury, but Vegeta had seen it. It was only when she regained consciousness and was offered a senzu bean for her cracked cheekbone - thank the stars it hadn't been more serious - that the others realized how badly she'd injured herself.
And it had all been for him.
He was undeserving of her and she had to know it, yet she lifted her right hand from his careful grasp and cradled his cheek, caressing him with her thumb and letting him lean into her palm to kiss it again.
However, he was not simply grateful for her fearless action. He was also struck by an inexplicable - likely inherent Saiyan - lust after her display of violence. It wasn't by far the first time she'd slapped someone and every time it aroused him beyond belief. But this time it hadn't been an insolent paparazzi or the old man Roshi who overstepped her boundaries. This time it had been a literal God.
He wanted to pay reverence to her. He wanted to submit to her power. He wanted her to proclaim him to be hers as she was his.
From the look in her eyes, loving but knowing, she was well aware of the effect her violent action had on him and she was eager for the unleashing of the roaming fire burning within him. He wasn't going to keep her waiting any longer.
His fingers entwined with hers as he pulled her right hand over her head and leaned down to kiss her fiercely. He plunged into her mouth, swallowing her whimper as she gave in to him. His free hand tore her dress clean off her body, followed by her bra, before he molded his body against hers.
His burning desire for her had simmered right under the surface ever since she violently saved his life and he finally released it, hitting at full force. He was hard to the point of pain in seconds, flashes of intense pleasure originating from his cock surging through him as he pressed against her. If he wasn't careful, this would be over before it had even begun.
When he tried to pull his body away from her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, trapping him there. He could easily have removed himself, but found it difficult to do so when he was immersed in the bliss of her embrace. He groaned against her, allowing himself a moment to indulge, for once careless of how embarrassing it would be for him to climax before her and so soon.
However, as she started to tug at his armor to feel more of him - and oh, how he wanted to feel her naked skin against his - he came to his senses. He pulled away from her and sat up on his knees to drag his shirt over his head, keeping his eyes closed to avoid the enticing sight of her lying naked and willing on bed beneath him. He was too close to exploding, far too soon for his pride to live down.
When he began to regain control of himself, he lowered himself to her body again, although he didn't fully close the distance. Instead he let his hands explore the length of her, her supple flesh beneath his hands so soft that it almost felt unreal. He planted open-mouthed kisses over her throat and neck, tearing away her scarf to reveal the mark he'd once planted on her.
It made him almost feral when he felt her pulse beat rapidly beneath the scar, especially when her impossibly brave hand moved down to rake through his hair. A shuddering moan escaped him which he tried to hide by lavishing attention onto the bitemark.
"I love the sounds you make," she breathed, causing a shiver to run down his spine. "Give it to me," her sultry voice beckoned, one of her legs wrapping around his hip to pull his desperate cock down to her sex. Only the fabrics between them kept him from coming right then and there.
"I won't last," he gritted his teeth, hating to put words to it, but he knew that she wouldn't mock him for it. In fact, she often seemed flattered by it; that she aroused him to such an extent. His usually unyielding stamina could keep him going as long as she could keep up, so she seemed to relish it when she made him break.
It appeared that she wanted to test it because, as he extracted himself from her to gather his wits, she lowered that damned right hand to the bulge in his pants and squeezed. He cried out, using every ounce of his will not to let it be over already.
The scent of her arousal seemed to double at this. Clearly, she really enjoyed the effect she had on him.
He grabbed that rebellious hand and put it on his head, letting her know that she could control the pace of what he did next. Slowly, he crawled down the length of her torso, kissing and licking his way over her clavicles and towards her bosom.
Her fingers tangled into the strands of his unruly hair and tightened, but she allowed him the time to leisurely reach her breasts. He cupped the ample mountains of flesh, kneading them tenderly while teasing his breath over her nipples. She whined, using her hand to push his face closer and he gave in, taking one hardened peak into his hot mouth while his fingers pinched the other.
He enjoyed this part of her more than she knew. Her breasts had changed during the years he'd known her, but only to the better. They were so pliable and responsive to his every touch. Whenever she became angry with him, her body would move stiffened as she moved and her bosom would bounce invitingly. If they really started to fight, she would be so mad that her chest heaved with heavy breaths, puffing up her breasts until he couldn't keep eye contact with her anymore. Usually, they would end up fucking against a random surface shortly after that.
He could spend hours worshiping her lavish chest - hell, in the state he was in, he could come from this alone with only small friction provided to him by the mattress - but she wasn't as patient. Her weak, yet powerful hand pushed his head down, urging him to move lower. He gladly did so, eager to bend to the hand that had slapped a god.
Her legs parted automatically and he settled between them, pushing her knees up to hold her in place. The small scrap of lace covering her sex was sopping wet and he had the impulse to lick at it, teasing her with the superficial touch of his tongue as he savored the arousal that had soaked the fabric.
She whimpered and groaned, "get on with it," pressing his face into the crux of her, and he relented, as thirsty for her cunt as she was for him to taste her. He easily ripped the panties away to expose her and for once she didn't complain about the ruined garment, her panting breaths simply calling for him to give her what she needed.
He did. He buried his mouth in her, his lips caressing her folds while his tongue burrowed deeper, first into her core to relish in the flavor of her, then moving up to her swollen clit. She was gasping, moaning above him, both her hands digging into his scalp as she tried to ride his face. But his hands on her inner thighs kept her in place as he bathed in her pleasure.
His hips moved on their own accord, grinding against the bed, begging to dive into the hot wetness that only his mouth was getting a taste of. The reinforced material of his pants held back his raging cock which would have torn through any normal Earth clothing by now. He was reaching the end of his patience.
He didn't have to wait much longer though. After years together he'd learned exactly how to make his mate orgasm in record time, always only settling for reaching his outmost potential, and soon she was crying out as she plunged over the edge and came on his tongue with his name on her trembling lips.
He gently coaxed her through the pleasure, prolonging it with expertly licking in just the right places. She moaned, raking her nails over his scalp, as she soared down from her peak. It would be brutish to pounce on her immediately. He was a prince, he could wait.
But when her right hand slid down to cup his cheek, he lost it. In a flash, he discarded his pants and aligned his throbbing length with her entrance. He grabbed her hands in his and lifted them, their fingers entwining over her head. Her miniscule ki was a force of nature as it flowed from her palm and into his, filling him with her strength as he drove forward and submerged into her depths.
She gasped, her fingers tightening around his own as she threw her head back and ached into him. He was less graceful, stuttering her name as he began to erratically thrust in and out of her. She was so wet and tight around him. Everything pulsed in his body, centering on the place they connected, and it was quickly reaching a crescendo.
It was all too soon when he rammed into her as deep as he could go and felt his body let go. "Stars, Bulma, fuck!" He shouted, burying his face in her neck as his muscles shook and pleasure rushed through him.
As the tremors died down, he felt her caress his back lovingly and kiss his temple. She felt like heaven and he allowed himself to drown in the soft sensations she created that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with love.
Before today, there had been no doubt in his mind that she loved him, but he had never expected that she would risk her own life in such a way as she had done today. It reminded him of how fierce his own feelings were, even though he failed to tell her so outright.
He was not a coward, but a man of action. He showed what he felt for her with his actions, not his words, and he knew she appreciated that. The weakling had been the opposite, speaking words that his actions didn't honor when he stood by as other men to insulted her or ogled her body. Vegeta would never allow such things.
However, he acknowledged for the first time that actions and words could and should go hand in hand. Bulma had shown him that today. The least he could do was to show her the same.
He lifted his head from the wonderful spot between her neck and her shoulder, and stared deeply into her beautiful eyes. She looked a little bemused, but undeniably happy and he shared his own smile with her.
"Bulma," he said, a rare use of her name outside their lovemaking (even though he was still buried inside her), "I love you."
Her eyes widened in shock as he spoke the words out loud for the first time in their lengthy marriage. He'd seldom responded 'as do I' to her proclaims of love for him, but he'd never actually said it. It felt strange to say, but nevertheless the truest words he'd ever spoken.
She gaped at him for several seconds and he began to wonder if something was wrong when tears suddenly sprang to her eyes and she, with an incredible strength so far unbeknownst to him, rolled them over until she was on top of him and crushed her lips to his. Her mouth was more insistent than he could remember it ever being and she claimed him like he was her prize.
It was exhilarating to experience such a reaction from her, just by uttering a few simple words, but he understood now how much it meant to her. She was reacting to them like he had reacted to her slapping Beerus, both of them showing a side of their love never truly revealed before.
His body responded, desire rising so fast in him that his head swam as his blood rushed lower and instantly thickened his cock which was still sheathed inside her. She moaned into the cave of his mouth and began to grind down on him, making him so hard and aching that his hips rose on their own to gain more from her.
Her hands roamed his body and his did the same, wanting his touch to be embedded on every inch of her skin. He couldn't get enough of her. Never would he have his fill of this gorgeous, infuriatingly genius and stubborn woman who belonged to him and him alone. She was to be his for eternity.
He ravished her with everything he had, not thinking too much of it as her mouth nibbled and kissed at his neck nor when she moved down to his shoulder and nipped at the thin skin at his right clavicle. He only felt it because he had lowered his power level enough to allow him to feel everything she gave him, but the sensation was minor compared to the uncountable others that surged through him.
However, he heard himself scream, in shock rather than pain, when her fairly blunt teeth dug into the skin of his upper pectoral. He was even more surprised when she managed to pierce his skin, something which only seemed to encourage her. She tore into his flesh like a feral animal while still riding his greedy cock.
It was the single most arousing thing he'd ever experienced.
When her teeth let him go, he growled with sheer lust and grabbed her chin roughly to pull her to his mouth. His tongue tasted his own blood on her lips and it drove him even wilder. He sat up and wrapped his free hand around her waist, holding her in place as his hips pistoned rapidly into her sweet cunt.
He let go of her chin and slipped his hand between them to rub at her clit. She cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, but he showed her no mercy. He needed her to feel how crazy she made him, always catching him off guard. And gods, he went wild for it.
She came within moments, spasming in his grip, and he pulled out of her when he felt himself almost lose it to her contracting core. He wasn't done with her yet.
He looked up at her, sweating and panting in his lap, appearing more divine than any god. How had he ever been so lucky? He had never done anything to deserve her, yet she wanted and loved him all the same, and he knew that he should never take that for granted. Once he had let his pride and goddamn ego come in the way, and looking back, he felt foolish for denying himself the happiness he only ever felt with her. But he never would again.
He needed her as much as his next breath, the earthling that could take on anyone; human, Saiyan or god. She could easily destroy them all with her machines if she put her mind to it, but luckily, she hadn't. Although he couldn't deny that he deep down was keen to see it.
She was always ready for a fight, snarky with an ego to rival his own, and she didn't shy away from challenging him.
She did just that as she leered into his eyes with a smirk, still panting from her climax, and said, "Is that all you've got, homeboy?" His entire being roared to rise to her challenge.
He pushed her off him and turned her around so fast that she struggled to keep up as she landed on her hands and knees. By instinct she lifted her rear, ready for him to take her from behind, and he could feel her surprise when he slipped an arm under torso to drag her upright, so her back was to his front, both of them on their knees. He parted her thighs with his leg to make room for him as he entered her again and began to fuck her slowly.
She was quick to match his rhythm, moving with him and reaching behind herself to touch his muscular form wherever she could. He kissed her neck, kneaded her breasts and skated down to brush against her clit, more gently than before because he knew how sensitive she'd be by now.
Breathlessly, she muttered vulgar things and he found himself responding with words of reverence, sharing how he adored her brilliance and beauty. He knew that he was acting very unusual from their regular lovemaking, but he found that he never wanted it to stop. It was intense and so right.
Nevertheless it couldn't last forever. His body cried out for release and he inadvertently started to move faster, increasing the strength of his thrusts. She responded, her inner walls tightening around him and her moans growing louder.
"Please, Vegeta," she cried out, gyrating her hips to maximize the friction from his cock and his hand between her legs, "I need it!" He groaned, pounding harder into her while his fingers quickened their ministrations on her swollen pearl.
"To whom do you belong?" He growled into her ear and she didn't hesitate to answer, knowing from experience what he wanted her to say.
"You! I belong to you!"
"That's right," he whispered, licking the scar that marked her neck, "you're my Bulma." His right pectoral throbbed where she'd bitten him. "And to whom do I belong?" She paused for a moment, not used to him asking this. But after everything today, he needed to hear it. He needed for her to say it. "To. whom. do. I. belong?" He said, punctuating each word with a particularly brutal thrust.
"You belong to me!" She cried. He could feel that she was so close and so was he, but he wasn't done yet.
"Yes! What am I then?" He gripped her tighter and leaned a little forward, rubbing the sore bite mark against her shoulder blade, the mark she'd left on him. "Say it!"
"Mine! You're my Vegeta!"
He came hard as she proclaimed him to be hers, rammed so far into her that he hit the end of her. This caused her own dam to break and she trembled in his arms while her tight heat pulsed around his cock, dragging out his bliss.
Their knees buckled simultaneously and he just barely managed to twist them to the side before they hit the bed, placing him behind her as they rode out the last waves.
He had no sense of time and his poorly improvised attempt to cover the shattered balcony doors meant that very little light came in to give him an idea. It didn't matter though. Trunks was probably still with the rest of rhe group and if not, he could always find his way home. Even though he didn't know exactly what went on in the bedroom (and naturally the room was entirely soundproof) he knew enough that he always knocked before bursting inside, the lock unable to withstand the force of an excited half-Saiyan.
When Bulma suddenly turned to him with a raised eyebrow, he expected to get an earful for leaving the party too early. However, as always she surprised him with an alluring smile appearing on her lips. She looked down at the bite mark she'd left on him which was already healing, something he lamented; he quite liked to be marked by her, a startling revelation to him now that he was no longer impaired by blinding lust.
"So… My Vegeta, huh?" Her eyes looked amused, but not mockingly so. Not like how she'd acted many years ago when he'd abruptly come prematurely after she'd called him 'my prince'.
He felt himself blush anyway, something she was an expert at making him do. No one had ever made him blush before he met her; he was sure of it. "I…" It was hard to find the words now that he had come to his senses. His ego nudged at him and urged him to say something snarky. But he refrained from doing so when she flashed him the most loving smile.
"I really like the sound of it," she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the small wound. "This turned out to be the best birthday ever. And it's all thanks to you. My Vegeta."
He knew that she would call him that again and again in private from now on. And he realized that he really didn't mind at all.