Chapter 17 – Bulma

Hi! I am sooo sorry for the delay guys.

This chapter is long… and needed extra care.

All I have to say is… enjoy 😊

Empty.

This is how Bulma found Vegeta's bed the day after she met Raditz and Nappa.

That morning, the young woman carefully scanned the room to be sure that he was not doing some push-ups on the floor, again. Then, not seeing him anywhere, she had to conclude that he was not there.

She placed the medical equipment as well as the slices of bread she had stolen from her lunch on the cart and went straight to find Idris. The older woman was busy sewing up one of the cervical crests of a wounded soldier, a few beds away.

"Do you know where I could find Vegeta?" she asked her. "He is not in his bed, nor in the restroom because I just helped the patient in bed number eight get there."

Idris momentarily looked up at her.

"He left early this morning, long before you arrived." she replied before returning to her work.

"Oh? And to go where? He can't be very far, he could barely stand on his legs yesterday morning!"

Idris pulled on one of the surgical wires with the delicacy of a wrestler, which elicited a complaint from the soldier.

"He must be in the simulation room, training. I don't see what else he could possibly be doing right now."

"He…WHAT?" Bulma suddenly burst out.

Idris interrupted what she was doing to place two inquisitive yellow eyes on her.

"He's completely crazy!" added the blue-haired woman. "He was on the verge of death just five days ago. He can't seriously be training already!"

"He's a Saiyan." Idris simply said, shrugging her shoulders, as if that was enough to justify Vegeta's behavior.

Bulma opened her eyes wide to let her know that it was unthinkable and completely thoughtless to let someone still injured return to training so soon.

"They are all the same." added Idris, noting her disbelief. "Saiyans. The only thing they can think about is training, fighting and getting stronger. Always stronger. It's written in their genetic code. There's nothing you can do about it, darling."

She punctuated her statement with a second shrug of shoulders and resumed her work as if it were all just a fatality. The young woman stood there for a moment, watching the woman pierce the soldier's blue flesh with her needle. She was also aware of the Saiyans' devotion to combat, Goku's unhealthy obsession having always overwhelmed her a little. Seeing that Vegeta came out of the same mold didn't surprise her that much.

But if Saiyans had their obsession with combat written in their genes, Bulma Brief's character was just as engraved.

"That was before he crossed my path!" the young woman exclaimed, quickly turning on her heels to head out of the medical unit.

But before she could even take two steps, she was stopped short by Idris who firmly grabbed her arm. Her pliers, needle and thread placed on the bed, she looked at her with severe yellow eyes. The soldier she was treating held between his fingers the skin she was stitching up. Interested by the interaction taking place before him, he observed them with curiosity.

"I would avoid getting involved if I were you." warned Idris darkly.

Bulma frowned. She wasn't sure she liked the cold hand on her arm, or the tone she had just used.

"Saiyans are particularly aggressive and impulsive warriors. It's more... risky... to be around them in general."

She subtly tightened her fingers on her arm and took a step closer.

"But Vegeta… he's…"

She narrowed her eyelids, as if searching for the right words to describe the man Bulma was about to lecture.

"He's completely insane." the wounded soldier concluded for her.

Both women turned to look at him.

"He's crazy, I swear." he added. "He likes to destroy everything around him, just for pleasure. He thrives on power and violence."

Bulma raised an eyebrow, surprised that these words were the one chosen to describe the Saiyan she had treated during the previous days. Idris did not refute the soldier. Seeing the skepticism appear on the blue haired woman's face, he saw fit to add some details.

"I was on a mission with him once." he continued cheerfully. "I saw him destroy an entire village with a simple wave of his hand just because he was fed up with the mission he was assigned to. And when he learned that Frieza would punish him for his actions, he started to laugh. Laugh! Damn it! I swear, there's something wrong with him."

Idris dropped Bulma's arm.

"What we are trying to tell you, Human, is that Vegeta is dangerous." she concluded firmly. "I strongly recommend staying away from him if you want to keep your pretty head on your shoulders."

Bulma found herself shaken by these particularly alarming warnings. It was quite easy to believe that they described the apathetic man she had encountered on Earth. These were dissuasive words, which would have convinced anyone to abandon the idea of heading to the combat simulation room.

Anyone except Bulma.

Stubbornly, she placed her fists on her hips, unimpressed by all these serial killer stories. She had encountered a variety of dangerous enemies during her adventures on Earth. Often, she was criticized for her carelessness and rushed actions. And even though this had put her in unpleasant and risky situations on multiple occasions, it was this same somewhat reckless character that had made her who she was today.

And this time was no exception.

"Vegeta doesn't scare me." she replied confidently. "Some things need to be done right and like every other soldier on this ship, he must respect his rest time before going back to training! It is my duty as a caregiver to ensure this."

And without another word, she left the medical unit before Idris could hold her any longer.

Once in the corridor, she immediately headed towards the combat simulation room. Having gone there several times over the past few days to pick up wounded soldiers, she knew its location well and got there without much difficulty. The enormous circular room was always very busy and as soon as she set foot inside, the young woman quickly found herself the center of attention.

"I'm looking for Vegeta." she declared to the dozens of aliens who had interrupted their training to stare at her.

Most of them gave her a curious look. Others scrutinized her as if she was the one having a third eye on her forehead. Then, one of the soldiers timidly raised his arm to point at a door in the back of the room. Bulma thanked the soldier with a brief nod and went there without hesitation, then pushed the switch which allowed her to open the door. Luckily, her status as a caregiver gave her access to all the training rooms on the ship.

Behind the door, the young woman discovered a smaller room, also circular, which housed multiple advanced training technologies. She immediately recognized the imposing silhouette of Nappa, dominating the smaller one of Vegeta. Raditz stood a little behind and observed the fight unfolding before him with a critical eye. He was the first to notice her arrival, and surprise appeared in his eyes when he saw the turquoise storm heading directly towards the confronting duo.

"Vegeta!" Bulma shouted.

Her high-pitched voice echoed off the walls. Both Saiyans suddenly stopped their fight. Vegeta moved away and Nappa, surprised, did not have time to compensate for his weight shift. He collapsed heavily to the ground and let out a loud curse that was drowned out by the woman's screams.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she shouted, striding towards the spiky haired man who was looking at her with confusion.

Bulma stopped less than two meters from him. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and glared at him, more furious than ever as she noticed that his face was covered in sweat. She would have liked to see the condition of his bandages. But Vegeta was wearing his battle suit, as well as an armor with a gold and silver tinged breastplate.

This detail made her scowl.

On the ship, each soldier had a clearly defined rank. With time, Bulma ended up understanding that it was possible to distinguish this rank by the clothing they were wearing. Regular soldiers, for example, were draped in black armor with epaulettes. The more powerful members of the army had slightly more sophisticated armor, each with its own specificities making it possible to identify the rank occupied by the person wearing it. Vegeta's armor did not have shoulder pads. Held in place by simple metal bands attached to its shoulders, the frame was particularly elaborate, and its surface sparkled brilliantly under the neon lighting of the room.

Bulma swallowed hard as she noticed it.

She had never realized it before, but Vegeta was no ordinary soldier. Not even a higher-grade fighter.

He was one of the three Generals of Frieza's army.

Warriors carefully selected by the lizard himself who, according to rumors circulating on Earth, were particularly powerful.

And damn… that armor he wore proudly looked really, really good on him…

"What are you doing here, woman?" he asked in a strangely calm voice.

The name he had just used to describe her abruptly brought her back to reality. If he was a General of the Cold Empire, she was Bulma Brief! And nobody disrespected Bulma Brief without reaping the consequences.

"How many times will I have to tell you? My name is BUL-MA! Use it!" she cried, planting her fists on her hips. "And I'm here because you're in no condition of doing this right now!"

She gestured at him with a casual wave of her hand. He lifted his chin, a disapproving pout on his thinned lips. He seemed ready to retort, but she wasn't over.

"Look at you!" she continued an octave higher. "You're really out of your mind if you think you're ready to train! You should be resting!"

Raidtz let out a small laugh. Nappa took a step in their direction, his fists clenched at his sides. But Bulma's attention did not stray from her patient, whose initial amazement had quietly transformed into something much darker. After a moment, Vegeta shifted his position to face her. He straightened up imperceptibly and imposed his presence on Bulma. Despite the behemoths that Nappa and Raditz were, his armor-clad body and flaming crown-shaped hair made him far more impressive than them, and it was his jet-black irises that made her heart race.

"I'm going to assume it's your innocence that makes you so reckless." he said in a measured voice. "But I advise you to lower your tone and calm down if you want..."

"I'll calm down when you quit being an idiot and stop training!" Bulma cut in loudly. "How many times do I have to tell you? You won't achieve anything at all if you exhaust yourself..."

This time, it was she who was cut off in her tirade. The Saiyan did not wait for her speech to end. He suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her with him. Bulma couldn't help but protest.

"Hey! What's wrong with you! Let me go!" she asked.

Vegeta didn't respond. He just pulled her towards the door in silence. The young woman stupidly tried to free herself.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, trotting behind him. "Let my arm go, imbecile!"

They walked quickly across the simulation room. The soldiers training there froze as they approached, and everyone in their path reverently stepped aside to let them pass. Once out of the room, Vegeta then led them into an adjacent corridor. A little worried about what would happen to her, Bulma couldn't help but question the relevance of her little intervention.

"Let me go! You're being rude! Where are your manners?" she cried, a little alarmed by the unpredictable attitude of her captor.

He stopped abruptly. She barely had time to realize it when she felt she was being thrown against the wall with a harshness that took her breath away. In no time, Vegeta stood in front of her, their bodies facing each other. He pinned her arm next to her head and wrapped his other hand around her throat.

And there she was. Held prisoner, stuck between a cold wall and the body of a Saiyan trice heavier than she was.

"Insolent woman." he spat between his teeth like venom. "How dare you accuse me of being rude after what you just did?"

Bulma, her heart beating wildly, and her breath taken away by surprise, remained silent. She stared straight into his eyes, and she saw rage distort his already stern features. She knew he wouldn't welcome her with open arms after showing up during his training, but she hadn't expected their encounter to be so harsh. Apparently, she had crossed the line that should not be crossed, and he had been unable to contain the anger that she made boil within him.

"Your miserable life must not be dear to you if you think you can teach me a lesson in front of my men." he added, tightening his hand around her neck.

The threat was clear, and rather frightening coming from his mouth. Idris hadn't warned her for nothing. The soldier's stories were not based on fluff. Yamcha's death probably should have taught her a lesson. Vegeta's reputation was well established within Frieza's Empire. He was one of the strongest soldiers in the army. He was an unpredictable, cold, and cruel killer. He was dangerous, and it was best not to get in his way. The soldiers in the simulation room, who had hastened to step aside to let him pass, knew it very well.

Bulma had been stupid to ignore all these warning. She and her cursed character had led her straight into the wolf den, and there she was at the mercy of this warrior, her neck encircled by the hand of a killer, buried under his threats while he was ready to make her vertebrae snap like a simple twig.

She was vulnerable, her miserable life, as he pleased to say, depending on these fingers digging into her flesh with more and more insistence.

But…

The situation was marked by a palpable duality.

The more seconds passed, the silence broken by their breaths weighed down by fear on one side and rage on the other, the more it became clear that this hand on her neck wasn't so threatening, after all. His fingers on her skin were convincing, but they weren't tight. His grip around her arm was firm, but it didn't hurt her. His dark gaze was intended to be disturbing, but the glimmer of excitement that she could read there did not make it very convincing.

Bulma might be trapped, but she knew he gave her the freedom to struggle if she wanted. With enough perseverance, she most certainly could break free from his hold.

If she had doubted that her life was really in danger at first, the seconds spent in this position convinced her that she was not really threatened.

This is why, after a moment of trying to calm her heartbeat, she responded to him gently.

"You're a General." she finally breathed in a soft voice.

The anger that had been etched on Vegeta's face faded a little.

"Eh?" he asked, confused.

"Why didn't you tell me you were one of Frieza's Generals?"

He frowned, searching her blue eyes, and seemed even more confused by her question.

"What if I am? What does it have to do with anything?"

"If I had known, I probably would not have challenged your authority in front of all these soldiers." she confided. "Is this what makes you angry?"

He narrowed his eyes, probably analyzing her question before answering it. She felt him loosen his grip a little, leaving only a simple pressure that, strangely, made her heartbeat even faster.

"Partly." he replied in a deep voice.

"I'll take note of it then." she whispered, giving him a smile.

His black eyes rested on her stretched lips. He clenched his jaw, blew air through his nose, and his own mouth formed a thin line. She knew she had destabilized him. He probably expected her to be scared. He wasn't used to his threats being met with a smile.

"But it's not just that." he added, looking back into her blue eyes, dissatisfied.

His face darkened, and Bulma felt a shiver that had nothing to do with fear going through her body.

"Then what?" she asked, feeling the excitement increase a notch. "What makes you so angry if it's not your authority being flouted by a poor Human like me, hum?"

She raised her head a little, as if to give him a better grip on her neck and thereby indicate him she was not frightened. Her smile widened, and she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing. Venturing a joke in such a situation might seem bold, but the glow reflected in the Saiyan's irises told her she could afford it.

And she wasn't wrong.

Vegeta was distracted again, probably disconcerted to see her so at ease in his intimidating presence. His dark eyes wandered furtively along her jaw, then to her collarbone and shoulder, which was partially exposed due to the pressure exerted on the blue fabric of her dress. His severe features became less tense, and his breathing slightly deepened. Bulma enjoyed watching him relax. The white lights of the hallway reflected beautifully off his coppery skin, bringing out his high cheekbones and angular jaw.

He was truly magnificent.

The young woman swallowed harshly as she stared at him. At this distance, it was impossible for her to ignore this physical attraction which distracted her, too. She made her smile disappear by unconsciously biting her lower lip. Seeing her doing so, Vegeta seemed to remember why he had initially dragged her here.

"I don't like being told what to do." he explained angrily, staring into her eyes again. "I don't like people meddling in my business."

He gripped her neck a little tighter and moved closer to her.

"And above all…" he breathed before leaving his sentence hanging.

He tilted his body forward, as if to make himself even more threatening, more intimidating. Bulma felt the hard metal wall of his armor pressing against her abdomen. He was so close now that she could feel the heat coming from him.

And holy shit… He was boiling!

The air around Vegeta's body stirred in a curious swirl, and the temperature rose a few degrees. Bulma had witnessed this phenomenon before. She knew that it was his Kî, and that this demonstration of force was intended to make himself more threatening. The Saiyan was so impressive, despite his rather conventional stature, that the objective was easily achieved. Legs suddenly trembling, Bulma was tempted to collapse, subjugated by the incandescent force emanating from him and burning her face.

Vegeta took the opportunity to express his anger at her.

"Above all, I hate being taken for a weak." he concluded in a low voice.

Bulma batted her eyelashes. She observed him without bothering to hide her perplexity.

"A weak?" she repeated without really understanding.

He showed his teeth and growled. This attitude, as well as the sight of his canines, strangely longer and sharper than those of a Human, reminded her that, despite their similarities, Vegeta belonged to a very different alien species. She looked down to contemplate the purplish aura that flickered around his body. This time, the heat emanating from it caused a very different feeling. She felt her cheeks heat up. Her already heavy breathing became labored, and the palpable tension around them spread to her lower abdomen. She looked curiously at that mouth, tense with aggression, as well as those immaculate teeth, and innocently wondered what it would be like to run her tongue over it.

Seeing him there, in front of her, surrounded by this flamboyant aura, with these glorious features and this magnificent presence, she told herself that he looked everything, but weak. For him to believe that the thought could even cross her mind was absurd.

"Idiot! Is that why you're attacking me?" she raged. "I never took you for a weakling! You are the one who takes pleasure in reminding me how pathetic I am!"

"Explain to me, why you're doing all this, then?" he asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Why am I doing what?"

"Why do you want to take care of me? Why do you feed me, or give me medication? Why are you interrupting my workout to tell me I need to go back to bed?"

Bulma opened her mouth, unsure of the answer she should give.

"I don't know. You're hurt. You need care. Isn't it normal?" she stammered, certain that this answer would not satisfy him.

"Normal?" he said with disdain. "I'm a Saiyan, not an Human I must remind you!"

"Saiyan or Human, anyone could use help when wounded like you are!"

"Help… Do you really think I need your help?" he replied furiously. "You see? That's what disgusts me the most. Your pity!"

"Pity? But… I do not have…"

"Shut up!" he cut in angrily, moving a little closer.

The Saiyan's face was only a few inches from hers now. He was so close that Bulma felt his warm breath ghost over her cheek, and a shiver ran down her neck. The context reminded her of what had happened in the medical unit a few days earlier. This time however, the warrior's hands still holding her prisoner against the wall, it was impossible for her to escape. And Vegeta looked much angrier and more dangerous than in the previous episode.

Any sane person finding themselves in this situation would have automatically panicked. Anyone would have wanted to end this altercation as quickly as possible, and would have sought to get as far away as possible from this bloodthirsty murderer who had put his hand on her throat.

But not Bulma.

Despite her obvious vulnerability, despite the threats and contempt coloring the attitude and words of her assailant, Bulma was grappling with an emotion very different from fear.

This enveloping warmth. Those rough hands on her skin. This muscular body lying on top of her. That dark look scrutinizing her with intensity. This captivating smell that emanated from him.

Vegeta was everywhere. He was all around her. And his presence, rather than encouraging the desire to flee, electrified each of her senses in a delicious way. And the longer he kept her captive, the greater was this irrational emotion that gripped her to the guts.

Bulma wanted this closeness. She loved this tension which made her lose her mind and which invaded her as soon as he was near her. And now, rather than being afraid of him, she found herself wanting more than just that touch on her neck and arm.

Vegeta, still motionless in front of her, seemed to realize that his attack was not having the desired effect. Eyes fixed on hers, he stretched one corner of his mouth to smirk, more arrogant than ever. His hand moved imperceptibly up her neck, and he tightened his grip on her wrist to crush her harder against the wall. Bulma's heart pounded in her chest and her body tensed a little more. These small gestures, this time, were clearly not intended to intimidate her.

"Listen to me carefully, woman." the Saiyan growled in a dull voice. "I don't want your help. And I especially don't want your pity."

His smile faded and he became serious again. His black eyes furtively rested on her mouth, before returning to meet hers.

"So, from now on, you're going to leave me alone. Understood?"

His question remained unanswered. Silent, a little confused, Bulma began to think about her capacity to answer to his request.

He wanted her to leave him alone. She understood that well.

But would she be able to do it?

Since that evening on Earth, since that moment their eyes met for the first time in that busy street of West City, Vegeta had haunted her. Nights and days, her thoughts were constantly bothered by this Saiyan she had, despite herself, had to take care of. Although her reason shouted to ignore him and let herself hate him the way she should, her head, her heart and her body said otherwise. All these moments spent with him over the last few days had been enough to confirm it.

And this moment was no exception.

Because despite the simplicity of the question he had just asked, Bulma was unable to formulate the expected answer. Her mind, perverse, unhealthy, obsessed, could do nothing better than imagine herself passionately kissing those lips which were a few centimeters from her own.

Tempted to tell him that no, she wouldn't leave him alone, the young woman opened her mouth to speak.

But she held back her words when she saw Vegeta's eyes diverge towards her lips. Again.

He had betrayed himself.

Because if she was in the grip of an indomitable desire, he was not much better. His anger was real. His aggressivity was genuine. But, just like Bulma, all these feelings were supplanted by something else. Something stronger. And for the moment, Vegeta may have recited a hostile speech, but his actions spoke a completely different language.

Confident, the young woman eventually answered with a half-smile identical to that of the Saiyan.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" she whispered, dragging her gaze towards their touching bodies.

Vegeta greeted her question with silence. She saw him narrow his eyes, then clench his jaw. He was furious to hear that she was questioning his desires. To show his displeasure, he couldn't think of anything better than to crush her a little more against the wall. The feeling of his armor pressing against her breasts drew a moan from the woman, a reaction which did not escape the Saiyan, whose body tensed even more.

Bulma's smile stretched. Her breathing quickened. She wanted more than ever to consume this lust that had made her languish for days. Her half-open mouth was dying to crush against that of this man who was literally making her lose her mind.

But Vegeta's powerful arms and body prevented any movement. Helpless, all she had to do was hope that he didn't give up like she had done in the medical unit. The sight of blue reflecting in his black eyes indicated that he too was burning with the desire to put an end to this unbearable tension. But something, anger, pride, or maybe even disgust, was holding him back from taking action.

So Bulma waited patiently, panting, feverish, electrified.

Until finally, Vegeta gave up his inner struggle.

He adjusted the position of his body to crush against her curves.

He took a deep breath, tasting the air she exhaled with delight.

His hand on her wrist suddenly felt gentler, while the one on her neck slid tenderly along her jaw, transforming its firm grip into a delicate caress.

His mouth parted, and he leaned his face forward, covering the last few inches between them.

And that's how their altercation became an embrace.

Bulma first felt the warmth of his lips gently brushing hers. She inhaled deeply as well, enjoying this sensation that she had dreamed of so much over the past few days. Her breathing had become ragged, the anticipation and desire to feel that physical contact was finally happening making her crazy. She gently raised her head to add pressure to Vegeta's upper lip with her lower lip, then slid her tongue across it to taste him. He reacted by opening his mouth even more, and the young woman heard that his breathing had also become erratic.

Bulma never imagined that a kiss with him would be so gentle and measured. With their explosive character and their constant clashes, she would have believed in something much more ferocious, more savage, even bestial. The position in which they found themselves, both motionless, panting against each other and barely touching, in no way reflected the visceral desire that had bound them since the day they first met.

Certainly, this light caress would not be enough. The young woman wanted more. And clearly, Vegeta too. It was their strong, fighting spirit that kept them from fully surrendering to what they needed, to what their bodies desperately demanded. This hint of a kiss was only a witness of the uncontrollable desire linking them. A desire impossible to ignore despite their differences, and that they did not know how to manage.

But the desire, as well as the sensation of their mouths constantly brushing against each other, ended up winning them both over.

"Kayt…" Vegeta growled against Bulma's mouth, before finally kissing her full on the lips.

The woman greeted him with a low moan. Her whole body tensed, and as if by instinct, she responded to the kiss.

There it was. The ferocity she had expected.

There it was, this feeling of urgency, this imperiousness that she had imagined. The sweetness and uncertainty had completely vanished. Vegeta had literally pulverized them, his mouth moving imperiously against her lips, erasing every last doubt.

The Saiyan squeezed Bulma's jaw in his palm to raise her face, and thus adjust the angle to add even more depth to their kiss. His fingers dug into her flesh with much more eagerness than before. His other hand, the one that still held her wrist, began to caress her skin incessantly. The young woman arched her back, her entire body electrified by the sensations Vegeta gave her.

Bulma had many times imagined finding herself in the arms of this unbearable Saiyan. But she never would have suspected that it would be this good.

Despite the abruptness with which he kissed her, his mouth was soft. His lips tasted infinitely good. His breath, rapid, disordered, was hot against her face. His body was enveloping, soothing. From his entire being emanated an incredible power, a palpable force he seemed to transfer to her by kissing her with passion against this cold and dull wall.

Satisfying and exciting at the same time, it felt like it was a vital need they had to feed. Bulma had never been kissed like this before. Never had it been so exciting to feel a mouth crush against hers.

Never had a kiss been as good as this one.

So good, that she even forgot to breathe.

Gasping for air, Bulma opened her mouth to take a breath. But Vegeta saw something more essential than replenishing her oxygen reserves and insisted that their frantic kiss not be broken. As soon as he felt that she was slipping away from him, he dove again to prolong this madness. His tongue slid across Bulma's lips. She welcomed him willingly and let him venture into her mouth. A low growl escaped Vegeta's chest as she joined in as well and allowed herself to taste him with her own tongue.

The kiss continued without losing its intensity, and after a moment, without their mouths and tongues even loosening, Bulma smiled. This did not slow down Vegeta, who continued to kiss her stretched lips, tasting this happiness with an enthusiasm that he had not controlled for several minutes already.

The young woman's perverse spirit was seriously beginning to manifest itself. Their embrace was far too sensual, far too exhilarating not to arouse an even more carnal desire. If a simple kiss had the power to transport her to this point... what would it be like if she let him do... more? It already felt so good that she had a hard time imagining what it would feel like to let this muscular and apparently very skilled Saiyan lay on top of her, naked, hard, fucking her against that wall.

The anticipation made Bulma particularly reckless. It didn't matter if they were in the middle of this hallway, probably even filmed by the surveillance cameras. It didn't matter if he was a mercenary with the morals of a serial killer. It didn't matter if he was an alien or one of Frieza's Generals responsible for the attack on Earth.

This kiss wasn't enough. She wanted more.

Driven by an uncontrollable desire, she risked moving her free arm. She gently pressed her hand against his armor. She timidly appreciated its contours at first, disappointed that it was not his coppery skin under her fingers. She then ventured lower, and her skin touched the elastic fabric of Vegeta's suit. The outfit was so tight that it was possible to follow the contours of his abs with precision. She had never felt muscles like these. Hard, defined to the extreme, she could easily feel every detail as he moved languidly while he continued to kiss her. Her fingers, naturally attracted by the path made by the very obvious V at the bottom of his abdomen, slowly descended.

Very slowly.

Until she touched that part of him where the tension was growing.

And that's where it all ended.

Suddenly, Vegeta pulled away to break their embrace. He did it as abruptly as he had begun and Bulma, stunned, opened her eyes wide to look at him. In less than a fraction of a second, he had moved several meters away from her. His face had taken on a slightly pinkish tint, but his black eyes no longer shone.

Several seconds passed during which they both looked at each other, gasping for air, still troubled and confused by what had just happened. Vegeta was the first to break this silent exchange by baring his teeth, a look of deep disgust appearing on his features.

"Leave me alone!" he finally spat loudly.

And before Bulma could even think to retort, he disappeared in a gust of wind.

Alone, panting, and still a little disoriented, the young woman brought her now freed hand towards her heart which was beating forcefully in her chest. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore this horrible feeling of emptiness and cold that had just been created. With her back still pressed against the icy metal wall, she shivered from head to toe. The contrast in temperature was stark now that Vegeta was gone, taking the incandescent heat of his body with him. She put her other hand to her neck, to the very place where he had pretended to strangle her. Her skin was still warm there, a thermal imprint that he had left on her and that she was not ready to forget. She caressed her own skin the same way he had done a few seconds earlier, and also bit her lips, tasting them with happiness as she realized that they had also kept traces of their passion.

Bulma, abandoned in this deserted corridor, desperately regretted Vegeta's departure.

Because even if he was a General of the enemy's army, even if he was this dangerous and unpredictable Saiyan, even if he had just dragged her here with force to savagely intimidate her, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. All of this changed absolutely nothing about what had just happened.

This kiss they had just exchanged was, by far, the most unforgettable of her entire life.