Disbelief shrouded his senses as he pressed his sweaty forehead against hers, listening to her catch her breath. She lay under him, her body still convulsing in the aftermath of her pleasure, him taking in that savory smell.
Vegeta had held his breath so many times during that encounter that he was still light headed. It had taken all his mental strength to hold himself back from ravishing her. He hadn't wanted to do something that might be too rough. And he'd never been with a virgin, he realized, his member throbbing with what he thought might be rugburn.
And oh, how good she sounded when she'd been calling his name.
How wet she'd been when he plunged inside, holding her delicate frame.
Opening his eyes, Vegeta made to plant a kiss on Bulma's cheek. But he stopped, noting the tear that was slowly rolling down.
"Are you okay?" He asked, for what seemed like the twentieth time that morning.
She nodded quietly, a blissful smile on her face. He didn't understand. Why was she crying if she was also smiling?
"Did I hurt you?" He tried again. He knew perfectly well she hadn't been comfortable at certain times, but he'd done his best to work with her body. Allowing it to embrace him, instead of moving against it. He'd followed her urges and taken lead from her moans.
"I'm okay," She said. He noted that she didn't deny being hurt.
"Are you-"
"Thank you," She whispered. Bulma blinked, another tear rolling down her face.
This was so confusing. He knew that this, being her first time, would be a vulnerable moment for her. But he hadn't been expecting it to bring her to tears. He'd never been with a woman that ended up crying before.
Unsure of what to do, and wondering if he should be offended, Vegeta carefully wiped her tear away with his thumb.
"It's just a lot," She said. "I've never felt this way before."
"And how is that?" He asked, worry welling in his stomach.
"I… Can't put it into words." She breathed. "I've never done… I've never…"
"Was that your first time having pleasure at all ?" He made sure to keep his lips sealed, but his jaw was certainly dropping. "You've never had that, even on your own?"
She raised an eyebrow, looking at him as if he had three heads. Yes, to her he was the unusual one. "I told you. I saved myself for marriage."
Quite literally, Vegeta bit his tongue. This didn't seem like the appropriate time to confirm if she knew what it meant to pleasure herself, but she seemed clueless enough. "You sure you're okay?"
"Of course," She actually giggled. "I think I just got overwhelmed. I felt like I was going to explode for a second."
Ah, Vegeta smirked. Now, that was a compliment if he'd ever heard one. Content that she hadn't hated it, he kissed her on the forehead. They couldn't stay like this forever, and they both would need to clean up.
Feeling shy now that they weren't in the middle of passion, Bulma held the blanket to her chest when Vegeta stood. He noted, yet again, how his member felt in the aftermath of her virginity. For her it seemed to render pain, but for him it had been incredible. And, once again, he wondered if he might get rugburn.
But then it hit him, and he actually gasped.
"What is it?" Bulma asked, hugging the blanket closer to her chest. She looked to the door, as if worried that someone had walked in. And she let out a breath of relief when she saw this wasn't the source of his expression. "Vegeta?"
He'd forgotten - or hadn't cared - to pull out. Or use protection. Or stop himself in any way, which he had never done before. Not even during his first time did he lose the control to take precautions.
As if wanting to see for himself, to confirm that it was true, Vegeta abruptly pulled the blanket off of her. Now it was Bulma's turn to gasp, and she hugged her chest self-consciously.
But he wasn't looking at her breasts. His eyes went to her nether region, and his jaw tightened. Yet again he was taken by surprise, and he looked up to see her face. "You said you were okay."
"What do you mean?" She looked down her body. "Oh!"
She lay in a small puddle, white semen mixed with bright red blood. She crossed her legs and sat up in surprise, seeming to forget about being self conscious. She put a hand to her core and brought it up, taking note of the blood on her fingers. "I promise," She stuttered, mortified. "It's not that time of the month…"
"Not that!" His cheeks flushed. "I know it isn't that."
"I didn't think it hurt that bad…" She mumbled.
Vegeta didn't want to express the panic he felt. Not only was he stunned that he'd made her actually bleed , but that wasn't the only substance she was sitting in. Now there was no avoiding or denying that he'd released inside of her, and suddenly he was light headed.
"Are you alright?" She asked, putting a hand to her mouth.
He would have laughed at the irony if he didn't feel so shaken. "I should be asking you. "
"I guess we'll need to clean this up…" She muttered.
"Right. Cleaning." He ran a hand through his hair. "You should go first. Perhaps a bath is in order."
"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, her lips downturned.
She could read him. He was doing a horrible job at hiding his anxiousness. Once again he was unsure of what to do, so he bent down and planted another kiss on her forehead. "Go take your bath," He urged. "I'll take care of the blankets."
"You will, or will a servant?" Bulma asked. "I don't want them to see-"
"Don't worry about it." Vegeta cut her off. He desperately needed to sit down, and he needed her to leave so she wouldn't see him. He felt like he was about to burst. "Go on, your tub awaits."
"Okay…" The word dragged suspiciously, as if she were telling him that she knew he wasn't being truthful. But sure enough, she stood, trying to rearrange her gown to cover her body once again as she moved across the room.
Was that a sight limp in her walk?
Vegeta ran a hand over his forehead, wishing she would just be honest if she was hurt. But he was too preoccupied to check on her again.
He turned back to the bed, feeling sick as he looked back down at the evidence. If the timing was just right, their lives might be about to change forever. He thought of his own mother, who hadn't survived labor. And at least she had been saiyan. How could he expect someone from Earth to do any better?
He wasn't ready to lose Bulma.
And he may have just doomed her.
On Earth, King Briefs lay in bed. By his side was a medical nurse, several servants, and Maron.
He had given Krillin a handwritten note to deliver to Bulma upon seeing her, and he was glad that it was on his way. The illness in his lungs was growing worse with each day.
Maron was straight-faced at King Briefs coughed fitfully into his fist. He coughed so hard that his face puffed, his forehead sweating, and his glasses fell to his side. The more he coughed, the worse it seemed to get, and he felt like it wouldn't be long until he one day couldn't catch his breath.
"My King," Maron said. She placed a wet cloth to his forehead, her eyes glistening as she watched her ruler.
"You've always been kind to me," The King rasped. He patted Maron's hand affectionately, and then the coughing fit returned.
Maron looked to the nurse, raising an eyebrow. "Make sure he has sufficient medication." She snapped. The nurse "tsk'd", shaking her head irritably.
"I've already told you, my lady. Hospice care is about making him comfortable - not saving his life."
"Well, look at him!" Maron spat. "Does he look comfortable to you?!"
"If we get anything else it'll just be sedatives, and he'll lose his cognitive abilities as the disease progresses anyway. He's already declared that he doesn't wish to be put in such a state until it's absolutely unavoidable."
"I am his power of attorney," Maron snapped. The King flinched at her voice, but otherwise didn't respond. His eyes were shut, and he'd already fallen asleep.
"My lady, please." The Nurse said quietly, looking to the King nervously. "He wouldn't want it,"
"With him in such a weakened state, you are to do as I say. The authority has been signed to me." Maron said. "I know what's best for him, and if he were capable, he'd be asking for relief. He never anticipated getting this sick. You think he'd want to feel this way?!"
With a sad sigh, the nurse nodded. This was the case as one who worked in hospice. It was a very emotional time in the patient's life, and those surrounding them. It was her job to understand the emotions that came with coming to terms that someone was going to die. Desperation and anger were the most common.
It was incredibly sad. Regardless of how many patients she had cared for, how many family members and loved ones she had faced. It never got easier. Especially not now. Not when it was the king, and his beloved daughter was so far away.
Reluctantly, the nurse filled her syringe. She gave a pleading look to Maron, silently asking one last time. Maron merely glared, crossing her arms over her chest.
And when the nurse turned her back on her to administer the sedative, Maron smiled crookedly. Soon, so soon, her plan would be coming to fruition.
