Akane lay immersed in masculinity, half squashed underneath this ripped, heavy form, caught in strong arms that rendered possession even if his embrace was lax. His hot, enticingly virile scent was whelming her and the easy rumble coming from the depths of his throat drowned out her own purr of replete. She did not even know how she was lying, what part of her was down or up, or belonging to herself or him. They were in tangles that seemed unsuited to provide comfort, yet their pieces were a natural fit and everything had shifted neatly in place. He was all over her, still, making her his, still, his mouth following her collarbone with a smattering of lightest, softest kisses. And she was basking, shamelessly, soaking up his unwavering attention to bursting, wanting for nothing. Even her mood, that was ever ready to turn on her serenity, had become placid. He had tempered her mercurial fire to a steady flame.
Intuitive as the prince was in his physicality, he picked up on the heaviness creeping into her limbs and changed his tune accordingly, granting her the mercy she had begged him for. His kisses were now meant to lull her and she let herself drift, finally ready to succumb to the sleep she had not allowed herself to get since her revival from fourteen turns around the suns spent in living death.
"Did I break you?" Vegeta whispered as he nuzzled the side of her neck.
"This isn't you, ugly." Akane mumbled, swallowing the handsome just before she could utter it and give away just how hot she was for him. "I am behind on sleep."
"You haven't slept at all." he guessed.
"Why the fuck would I?" she confirmed. "I slept through my whole fifth and half my sixth."
"Merely in turns." he waved that away. "That puts you where?"
Akane heaved a sigh and stretched her limbs as well as it went entangled as those were with his. "I can't even tell with all the time I spent in hibernation ahead of getting buried on this cack-stain. Latter of my fourth, I guess. You overtook me. I was sent out to save a boy and found a man." she grinned up at him. "Happy times. We are smack at the zenith together."
He mirrored her grin. "It is all for the better. You will be needing the stamina."
If she wanted to outrun him, she certainly did. She would. Later. It was just that she was so comfortable right now.
"Do you sing, Prince?" she asked.
"No."
Well, that was adamant. It was good too. Better. She was getting hung up on him enough as it was.
"Pity." she mumbled regardless.
He gave her just enough room to curl herself up, away from him, and spooned her as she burrowed herself in his arms. She let her eyes fall shut. A short doze, she promised herself, a spell of respite in which to enjoy his company before she told him to take his claim and shove it up his royal arse. But the fuzzy pink behind her eyelids was growing dark and the strong arms were turning on her, changing into a confined space that trapped her in the minor death of slumber. Her eyes flew open and for a second she had no idea where she would be if not in her hibernation vessel. The fists she unclenched felt numb and the adrenaline racing through her, set her heart to beating out a maniacal drum that left her struggling for air. She made her whooping breath small, made herself small, as small as possible in the hopes of disappearing. He must not know, this man angling up her face to see what was wrong with her, must not catch her in the distress she was fighting to shake out of.
Akane let her frantic gaze move on from those burnished brown eyes so intent on her, feigning disinterested ease. "Off you fuck now. If you want to cuddle, go to your lesser bitch. I don't do aftercare." she dismissed him, both hating and loving herself for pulling it off so well and sounding so sincere.
Vegeta remained bent over her, not speaking for the longest time while he scrutinized her tight, hopefully blank features. "I will stay." he finally said, the look on his face eerily knowing. It was recognition. That truth she had found in his eyes, he had seen the same in hers. He now knew that she had demons too.
Akane faced away to hide the lingering consternation in her. No wonder she had been fighting sleep. Sleep was bad. Sleep she did not need. She could feel the prince lean in and nose her cheek. It was a bracing gesture that took the edge off this sudden upheaval striking her. What was worse, or better if she allowed it, his presence was putting her at ease. She wanted to hate and love him as well, very much, for not letting her nastiness deter him from hanging around.
"Fine." she grouched, putting on her scowl and pretending like she couldn't care less, like she was making ready to doze off again, like her heart was not threatening to jump out of her throat and her body was not primed to fight off whatever figment enemies were waiting for her in the dark behind her eyes. She added a rough: "Whatever. It is not as if I have a say."
"You have a say." Vegeta said softly.
Akane made an irritated wriggle in his arms that felt so safe and right. When he moved to give her room, she grabbed his forearm to keep it lying across her stomach and demanded: "Do you have to ruin my glow? Stop nagging me already."
His only reaction was a jog that tucked her in with him more securely. Curse him. Curse her. Curse this fucking comfort. Very slowly the tension in her body released and her muscles unclenched, the fright lifting and letting her back up from the edge of that yawning abyss. She sank into the bed, into him, and the act that she had put on, lost its use at her composure returning for real. All was well. All would stay well. She would just have to give up on sleep. And what loss was there in that? She hadn't wanted to give into that to begin with. She didn't need sleep. She had slept enough for a lifetime. She would never sleep again.
The prince had no trouble sleeping. Soon, the easy rumble that had started back up in his throat, was petering out and he dropped off with her in his arms, his leg slung across hers and his body curved around her. It was nice. Not that she would be owning up to that. His dominance was shining through even while he dozed. He had his face mashed with hers, cheek to cheek, effectively using her head for a pillow. Mine, was what that said. All mine. Given her history, it was strange that being so obviously surrendered to his whims, so overpowered and captured by him, did not make her feel intimidated or scared or even hesitant, but rather snug and secure, like she belonged right here under him, bound by his embrace.
Down the hall, in the barracks that were no barracks, Akane sensed her men getting up to start their day, their comport quiet and suspiciously circumspect, like they were trying hard not to infringe on the intimacy she was sharing with their prince. They were aware, obviously, and the fact that her not so secret bed-mate was roused from his short nap by their meagre movement, showed her that he too was very aware of them. She, on the other hand, had somehow managed to completely forget that they were there.
"Fuck. Those bleeders." Akane muttered. She rubbed her face in her hands, frustrated with herself for not making the prince leave sooner. "I couldn't get you to take your royal leave unnoticed, could I?"
His only reply was a humourless scoff. She rolled onto her back and peered through her fingers suspiciously, thinking it wise to be ready for more of his dick-swinging-crap antics. He did not fail to deliver, though it weren't the hands-on kind of persuasions he used to show her just how delusional she was. What he did was stretch, thoroughly and with a big, rumbling sigh, then yawn and make her stifle one of her own behind both hands. He sat up on an elbow, absently rubbed a hand across his flat, ripped stomach and sent a long, lazy look up her body until he met her eyes. He held her deadpan.
"Fucking hell." Akane groaned, but it was for the things her stomach was doing and she needed it to not do, like fluttering and flip-flopping. And she realised that this feeling, it was a really bad thing that came from a whole different place than that which had brought them together in this bed. She averted her eyes from those intensely brown ones staring her into submission and stuck them, unseeing, to the small, red bruise that was on the outside of her bicep. Before she could come to fully appreciate the disaster budding in her, another, much more pressing and even scarier revelation came crashing in.
The danger, it seemed, had been an inconvenience she couldn't be arsed with recognizing while it had been staring her in the face this whole time. It still felt far removed from her, lying here totalled in the aftermath of what could only be called a three hour fuckathon. An endless mingle brought on by her perceived straying and dragged out because she kept shooting down his every amorous advance. If it hadn't been for that, there probably wouldn't have been a fuckathon to begin with. She had been so over the fucking moon about finding the ideal match in the sack, that she had bypassed the very real trouble she could be in here. Lifting her arm to her eyes, she touched the red spot on her bicep and did not fail to notice the appeased, lopsided smile in her periphery when she next rubbed her shoulder where she knew she bore more of his stinging kisses. They were all over her back, from her rear up to her neck. She had chalked up his conduct to personality, the inclinations of a dominant man, but what if those bruises on her flesh hadn't been put there in the heat of the moment to serve as a fuck-you to the men he didn't want to share her with? What if, like the past hours spent getting her brains fucked out had been meant to make her heel, those kisses on her flesh were the deliberate, calculated proclamations of his intended ownership? Marks that were just one step removed from the permanent one sitting under her left eye an ever burning flame?
Akane felt like throwing up. Of course he would want her for himself. Royalty did not suffer the dishonour of sharing women. That was like letting their subjects take a shit on their throne. Where the hell had she gotten the notion that a prince could be contented with a casual caper? Even one in exile that wasn't looking for a following and didn't give two shits about his main bitch backtalking him in front of everyone. Perhaps that was what had her fooled? He had shown the same permissiveness around her. The only time he had reprimanded her for giving him lip, was when she questioned his authority that morning in the barracks. She had drawn him out, on purpose, aware of him standing just outside the door, and he had not failed to set her straight. And what had she done in answer? Not shown remorse or contrition or respect. She had opened her thighs for him, seduced him on impulse, to cater to the fleeting urge to get her cunny stuffed. And he had jumped on that. Like a dog with two dicks. And now he wanted to own her.
Akane was dragged out of her calamitous contemplations when he leaned in to nose her cheek again, not to brace her, but with deliberation, to rub off his scent on her more despite it already having seeped into her very pores. He very tenderly set his teeth in the flesh of her cheek for a nip. Nope, she wasn't telling this one to shove his claim up his royal arse anytime soon.
"I did you a disservice." Vegeta whispered. He nudged her again, more persistently. "Making you sleep in the storage room."
Instead of in his bed, chained to it with a fucking leash. What Akane needed to do now was damage control. Fast. Being her own woman was supposed to be her silver lining to this whole fucking nightmare that started on the day she was freed from her position as a pleasure slave and sent from her keeper's side to save his son. Her prince who was now looking to keep her in his father's stead. How fucked up, the ironies of fate. She didn't think he would buy it if she simply rolled over, not after the way she had been fighting him, but she also had to take care not to push his buttons too much or he could decide to make it official right there and then.
"This again." Akane snarled, making sure to put the right measure of impatience and irritation in her voice. "Your son was nagging me about that as well. And Kakarot, begging you to accommodate me. Do I look like I need comforts? I am a warrior. I rest wherever the fuck my arse lands."
"Is everything an insult with you?" Vegeta asked. He looked entertained and as he got up nimbly from the bed, so did the pinger he was showing off. It vanished again like magic, yet lost nothing to its flaccid state. Like the bigger one attached, it was still a handsome dick.
Akane was getting up, slowly and carefully, making sure not to move more than was absolutely necessary while she got ready to start running for the hills. He clocked her passingly, more occupied with rummaging around in the boxes that stood at the foot of the bed.
"Even so, you should have been granted more suitable accommodations." Vegeta said. He came on her, hand held out to show her the colourful pellet lying in his palm. "Digs." he made a wave to indicate the boxes behind him. "Take whatever supplies you need."
Akane looked up at him dumbstruck. "You are sending me from your side?"
His nod was unreserved and followed up by another mellow, lopsided grin he seemingly couldn't contain as he took in her perplexed face. He swept her hair back, then grasped her shoulder and jogged her. Playful though the gesture was, her having gone rigid from shock, made her totter and step back for balance. And then she was laughing, laughing so hard that she toppled over anyhow and lay sprawled on her back on the bed braying with tears leaking from her eyes. She managed to catch herself, but the absurdity of this situation sent her back into full side-splitting so that she had to grab her aching flanks, her laughter growing until she sounded quite unhinged. Yeah, she was releasing a lot of tension right now. He did not want to keep her from skipping off into the sunset at all, he was telling her to fuck off straight into it.
"Bless!" Akane hiccoughed. "That takedown really shat me up bad!" and she managed through her breathless giggles: "You were just… swinging your dick… around… for a… fucking… laugh!"
Realising that she was guilty of straying again, onto the fast track of a mental collapse this time, she put the mockers on her hysterical laughter and jumped back to her feet. The prince still stood with the pellet in his hand, beholding her with a kind of avid, wondering look, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing and wasn't sure if and why the sight should be such a source of entertainment to him. He must think her mad. Maybe she was. Maybe her rotten history had made her so… No, fuck that and fuck him and his two-bit dynasty. Who cared what it meant that he ploughed her to shit and sent her packing? Forget the inference that the fuckathon had made him come to actually consider her a step down from his fuckhole. Let that inferior cunt have him. They deserved each other. Akane was walking away, in disgrace if need be, but unmarked and free to go wherever her feet took her.
She made for the heap of battle gear lying on a second stack of boxes across the room, changed her mind halfway through and snatched up the strange white garment the prince had discarded upon arrival. It looked a bit like a tunic, plain and short-sleeved, the fabric soft and stretchy. She had seen the princeling and Turles' brother-son wear similar mufti. If she was to abandon duty, she might as well leave the imperial uniform behind. She donned the shirt. It was more like a shift on her, the hem reaching halfway down her thighs and the sleeves covering her elbows. She threw a look down herself and then at the prince to tell him without words that she was keeping the shirt. He made no comment, simply looked her up and down like he hadn't just ordered her to pack up her shit. The eye-fuck should have told her something, but she was too busy glimpsing the shards of hipbone sticking out above the waistband of the even more outlandish looking grey, baggy kecks he put on. He laced them up deftly with that pellet still clutched in his fist.
Akane didn't like admitting it since it meant giving credit to the lesser bitch, but those capsules were an ingenious invention. Every morning when she and her men popped some to break their fast and cold-boxes stocked to the hilt with fresh, perishable food popped into existence, she was impressed. And the one the prince was holding in his hand, held digs apparently. Now, the WTO may have been technologically advanced, those cunters had never come up with anything quite like that. Her stomach played up again at the sudden and all-consuming jealousy gnawing a hole into her guts. She needed this feeling less than the flip-flopping and she snuffed it out with the same aggression she used to jerk on her battle boots.
When she turned and made to yank open the door and leave, the prince was beside her. He pushed it back shut in her face and kept his hand on it, arm outstretched to block her path. She snarled up at him and gave the knob another yank that made it snap off in her hand.
"Easy now." Vegeta said as he very nonchalantly leaned his arm against the door above her head and loomed over her. He held up the colourful pellet in between their noses. "Is that sunset still calling you?"
This wasn't the conduct of a man who had lost interest, and meeting the undeniably lustful gaze he forced on her, the fuckathon clearly could have lasted a little longer.
"I have no use for your parting gift." Akane meant to siss, but her threat was far too breathy and betrayed how her resurfacing apprehension dropped out of her stomach straight into her groin. "You can stick that up your arse."
He slipped it into his pocket instead. "I will give it to your underlings. They did say they liked an easy go of it."
"We have gotten used to roughing it." Akane snapped back pointedly.
"It wasn't meant as an insult." he reiterated. "You seem to be labouring under the idea that I have continued my dynasty here. It is just me, Captain. Me and my babes. Tempting as it would be to use your fealty to my advantage, I don't want you to stick to my heels waiting for orders you are never going to get. My destination died with our people. Your duty should be to yourself."
Akane recoiled like he had physically punched her. It weren't even his words that felt like a blow to the gut, it was the indifference with which he spoke them. There was no wrath for the injustice of what had befallen their kind, no devastation, sorrow or bitterness or even the slightest bit of regret. He was listing of facts with the dry-eyed precision of a medic in the field.
"I vowed to give my life for yours!"
"You have." Vegeta simply said. "Decades of it. To the detriment of yourself and those serving under you. That is why your life should be your own. Truly. Enough was taken from you in my name."
Akane couldn't tell what made her not shut up, take this very narrow escape and skip off cheering at that point. The recognition he gave to what it took her to get here or the utter disregard he showed for the pivotal event of their annihilation? It could be both. It could be neither. It could simply be her stomach and the truths it kept sharing with her.
"You know," she said, her voice becoming soft and tense in her rising anger. "I have often been accused of caprice, but compared to you, they would name Northern weather predictable. You demanded I respect your title or you would strip me from my rank, but now you are telling me that it is void and I have no duty to you. And this!" she jabbed a finger at the red kiss she could feel burn on the ridge of her jaw. "Why would you spend hours fucking me into giving myself over to you, if you were going to send me away afterwards? What the fuck is it that you want from me?"
"You. This." Vegeta pointed out the shrinking space between them. She couldn't even tell who had moved in closer. Him. Or her. "Provided that I can have it to myself. That will be up to you. I will not share your bed with your underlings. Regarding your respect, it is my due. My title may be without purpose, it is not empty. I will always be the prince."
Akane feinted a sidle and he put his hands against the door on either side of her to stop her in her tracks. Her body utterly deserted her as it weakened in the undeniable magnetism that was between them. She had to stop the hand that crept up her thigh on willpower alone, but it had deserted her and her fingers lay idle around his wrist.
"Haven't we done that enough?" she asked, her dry throat making her already weak voice crack.
"You tell me." he whispered right beside her ear.
She plucked the hand from her tail-end just as it slid under her shirt for a pinch.
"Let's cut the bullshit for a minute, shall we?" Vegeta demanded, sounding remotely impatient with her for once. He drew back to catch her gaze and hemmed her in with his palms pressed against the door again. "We both know you are punching above your weight with me. Had I really wanted to flog you for your impertinence, you would have been down to frays by now. I like your fire and you like grilling me because I could snuff you out between my fingertips. There can be no fighting without adversity, right?"
And no real fun without fighting, as they had just so thoroughly explored together. Akane wasn't going to confirm the adage. The last thing this rampant balefire needed, was more accelerant.
He wasn't letting her off so easily. "You wanted a say so speak. If we are doing this again, my place between your thighs has to be mine alone."
Akane steeled herself when he moved, but he stepped back from her and folded his arms, looking confident and regal even as he stood there waiting for her to answer his demands barefooted and naked from the narrow waist up. What an awesome fucking article he was. Her escape route now clear, she left him guessing and took off via the least expected exit, slats snapping and windowpane shattering as she propelled herself straight through it.
