AN: I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. ;)

CONTENT WARNING-LEMON AHEAD


Chapter 8

She should have been sleeping. Her bed was comfortable. She was tired. She had been taking intermittent naps in a chair in place of actual sleep for days. She was worn out. She was exhausted.

Instead, she was wide awake. Her body was strung as taught as a harp. All she could see was his eyes in her mind. Dark, smoldering, deep… She turned herself over in her bed. She felt hot. She felt frustrated.

She was horny.

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. Sure, she'd been horny before, but not very often. Her limited sexual experiences left much to be desired, to the point where she didn't even understand the point of it. The enjoyment she had received from it was so minimal as to make the energy put into it not worthwhile.

This, though… This was a feeling stronger than she'd had before. This feeling definitely felt like the energy required would be put to good use. It was something about his eyes and how he looked at her. It was uncertain in her mind if his looks were intentional or if she was reading too much into it. Regardless of his intentions, the effect was real. Her body was on fire, and her mind was conjuring up all types of inappropriate images. She growled and ripped her hands away from her face, slamming them to her sides. She stared angrily at the ceiling, willing her overactive imagination to… deactivate.

As she was fruitlessly attempting to harness her seeming nonexistent willpower, she heard a knock at the door. She turned her head toward her bedroom door, her eyebrows forked in confusion. She looked at the clock—12:17 a.m. Who could that possibly be? Did Chichi need something? Did her and Goku fight? She doubted it—Goku was too amenable to produce any sort of conflict that Chichi would need to leave for. But who else? An emergency would have sounded in every room.

The knock came again, more insistent. Okay, okay, she thought, dragging her singing body out of bed. Bulma made her way to the front door, only partially aware of what she was doing; her mind couldn't focus. All she could see were those eyes. She opened the door, half in a daze.

And there were those eyes; the prince standing before her in the doorway. The blue-haired Saiyan gave a sharp intake of breath as the fire ignited, like it hadn't stopped from earlier. Vegeta stared at her, and she stared back.

His gaze dropped from hers to look down, and it was then that she realized all she had on was a thin black midriff-baring tank top and tiny sleep shorts. She glanced down and then back up, and his eyes were back on her. This time, however, they were molten. Her breath came shorter, and her body felt like it was on fire.

He began stepping inside the room, and every step forward she met with a step back. She felt like prey—and it wasn't entirely unpleasant. As he fully entered the room, he pushed the door shut behind him. It dimly registered in her mind as she continued to step back.

Until her back hit the wall. He continued toward her, stopping just in front of her. He put one hand on the wall next to her head, reminiscent of that day a week ago in the lab. This was different, though. This was very intentional, and intensely private. His other hand pressed against the wall by her torso. He slowly leaned his face toward hers, deviating slightly to her neck. Her breath came out in a shuddering whisper as he breathed her in. Every inch of her skin was electric.

She needed him to touch her.

He slowly brought his face from her neck to her ear, and her body was visibly quivering. Her breath was coming in short gasps, and it was like she had no control over her own body. His lips grazed against her ear, and he made a sound like a low purr. A small groan escaped her lips, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the tidal wave of desire coursing through her.

She felt him move his face away from her ear and stop in front of her. She opened her eyes, eyes that must have been hazy with desire—to meet his orbs of black, liquid fire.

"Bulma…" he rasped out, moving closer to her face.

The way he said her name… Her breath hissed through her teeth, and she couldn't stop her hands from coming up to his face. The reaction from both of them to that instance of skin on skin was instantaneous.

Vegeta's lips crashed onto hers, and Bulma's hands shot into his hair, pulling him closer. He devoured her willing mouth with a fervor only a Saiyan warrior could, the two of them a meddling of lips and tongue. His hands blazed a fiery trail down her sides and around her back, sliding up her flimsy shirt, hot against her skin.

She groaned into his mouth as he pushed her harder against the wall, snaking the hands around his neck down to his shoulders and back. She jumped herself up and wrapped her legs around his waist, delighting in the growl erupting from deep in his throat. He brought his hands from her back down to her butt, holding her up and exploring at the same time.

She pulled away from him sharply, which elicited a frustrated growl from him. She reached her hands down in between them and pulled her top up over her head. Bulma noticed his eyes darken as he took her in for the second she saw them before grabbing him by the face and pulling his mouth back to hers.

With her legs firmly wrapped around his waist, he brought his hands up from her backside to explore her now exposed chest. As his rough hands rubbed over her nipples, she broke the kiss to take in a deep breath with her head tilting back. Vegeta did not miss the opportunity as he began ravaging her neck with lips, tongue, and teeth. She wanted to see him so badly…

"Bed," she finally gasped out. He brought his head up from his exploration and questioned with his eyes as to the location of this bed. She wordlessly nodded toward the hall behind them, and he moved his hands back to her butt and pulled away from the wall. His lips met hers again as he walked down the hallway to her small bedroom and comfortable bed.

As the prince's knees hit the edge of the bed, he lowered the both of them onto it and began a trail down her body as she lay beneath him. The feel of his lips on her was maddening; her skin was too hot, and her breaths were too short. This had never been what sex had felt like to her in the past. She wasn't even sure what to do. Past experience had severely limited her knowledge and understanding of what was "right" and "wrong" in this new situation. As a result, she let the prince work his magic. She suspected, with a pang of unexpected jealousy, that he had more experience than she.

She was brought back to herself when she felt him begin to pull off her shorts, and her anticipation began to grow. He pulled himself back up on top of her, and she yanked the bottom of his shirt up, indicating that she wanted him in the same state she was. He smirked at her. "Impatient woman," he purred to her as he threw off his shirt. She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to snap back when he brought his hand to her wet center, which cut her off in a gasp.

She writhed under his ministrations, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone comebacks. Her typical acerbic wit was rendered mute, and all she could do was focus on the pleasure coursing through her. But she needed more.

"Vegetaaaa…" she mewled. He brought his head up from where he had been lavishing her breasts, and his head moved up to her ear. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"What do you want?" he whispered, sending additional shivers throughout her body.

"You. I want you," she replied, turning her head to meet his eyes. Something about that eye contact hit her harder than anytime previous. It was like a punch to the chest—and she could see that he felt it, too. He practically flinched. Everything paused, and they sat in that eye contact, both trying to understand what was happening and what to think about it.

Finally Vegeta shifted himself just enough to slip off his shorts and positioned himself above her. He kept looking into her eyes, and for a long moment there was only the sound of their ragged, anticipatory breaths. Bulma gave him the briefest of nods, and he drove into her with a deep, satisfied groan. He lowered his head to her neck, and they stayed like that for a moment, just basking in the intimacy.

Vegeta grazed her neck lightly with his teeth, and her hips bucked against him. She felt him grin before he started moving within her. This wasn't the fervent jackhammering she had gotten from previous lovers—the kind of zealous pounding of someone only seeking their own hurried pleasure. This was slow, sensuous, almost maddening in its measured motions. She moved with him, exploring his neck with her lips, his back with her hands, his sides with her thighs. She reveled in his tongue lingering along her skin; his hands caressing her breasts; his slow, measured thrusts.

As her pleasure built and built, she began grinding her hips harder against him. She heard him chuckle by her ear. "Impatient little one, aren't you?" he purred against her cheek. All she could do was whimper in response and continue to grind her hips harder. He groaned against her neck and began to move faster, matching her desperate hips.

In the very small part of her brain that could actually pay attention to details around her at the moment, she began to notice his breathing become harder as a bead of sweat formed on his temple. She felt something steadily building inside of her—something powerful she had never experienced before—and she started losing control of her own actions. Her body was taking over. Her breath was coming in short pants as she ground against him. His labored breathing caught her ear as he hovered over her.

She looked at his beautiful visage as the fire inside her rose to a fever pitch. She looked into his eyes and grabbed his face, bringing him down to her and pressing her lips greedily to his. She devoured him until whatever was dammed up inside of her let loose, a shuddering pleasure racking her body as she released his face and threw her head back. She cried out, her body spasming against him. She felt him move faster for a few more beats before he hunched himself against her quivering body, burying his face in her neck. His breath hissed through his teeth as he slowed his movements, finally stopping with a shuddering breath.

As her breathing slowed, she hooked her arms under his, pressing her hands against his back and holding him close to her. She trailed her fingers along his skin and planted kisses along his shoulder while he rested his head in the crook of her neck. Now that it was over, she didn't know what to say or do. Was this something he regularly did? Was there protocol to this? She felt so sheltered and young. Normally she was so confident in everything she did, but this was an entirely new situation for her.

None of her other experiences were anything like that

Finally he began to shift, and he pushed himself up on his elbows. His eyes met hers, and she was pleased to note that the lightning remained. She felt the corner of her mouth quick up the tiniest bit, and her desire began to flame again within her. He answered with his own small smirk.

"I assume this matchbox has a shower?" he queried, a glint in his eye. She puffed out her cheeks.

"Of course, otherwise you'd smell us from the other side of the palace."

He nodded and pulled himself up and off the bed, instantly leaving her with a feeling of longing. He held out his hand to her. She looked at it for a moment before taking it and standing as well.

"Lead the way," he said, gesturing to her bedroom door.


Bulma lay on her side curled up against him, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. They had washed themselves off in the shower—and then proceeded to dirty themselves up again while under the warm stream. She was amazed at how even when she was satisfied, it wasn't enough. She now began to understand why some people were so obsessed with this activity. It was absolutely fantastic.

"Why did you try out for the elites?" Vegeta posed, breaking the long, comfortable silence. She glanced up to his face to see he was staring up at the ceiling, one arm thrown over his head. She thought for a moment, wondering how honest she should be. At this point, she realized, why not be honest? They were lying in bed together, naked.

"It was a stepping stone," she said quietly. She heard him snort in surprised amusement.

"Only you would consider the most elite fighting force on the planet a 'stepping stone,'" he chuckled. Bulma shrugged.

"I spent my childhood watching my father be held back simply due to his station. He is the smartest person I know, and he was stuck in some second-rate laboratory designing minor trinkets and updating software for everyday appliances when he could be designing and creating things that truly benefited our people. I looked at him and all of the wasted potential, and I saw my future. I couldn't accept that. I know I'm better than that, so I went for the only path on this planet someone of lower status can take to move up. Once someone has been an elite, they can qualify for other positions one can only get when one is of a certain status, because being an elite grants that status. I knew it was my only chance, and I also knew I could pass the test. Having been an elite, I can transition to the first class laboratory and create things."

The silence felt heavy. She felt vulnerable. The only people who knew that were Goku and Chichi. Now she had just laid herself bare to the crowned prince of the planet. She worried she had said too much. He probably wasn't expecting so much from such a simple question, though she was certain he knew her well enough to know her answer wouldn't be, "Just to be in your presence, Your Highness."

He brought the arm that was above his head down around her. "I wouldn't expect anything less." Bulma let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She felt a smile pull at the corner of her mouth. She didn't know why that made her feel good, but somehow it did. Bulma was never one to crave somebody's approval, and she didn't think this situation was exactly that, but there was something about the acknowledgement and acceptance of who she was that made her feel… warm. That was the best way she could describe the feeling.

He shifted next to her and slipped out of bed. Her arm trailed after him instinctively before she noticed it and jerked it back. He stood up and began putting his clothes back on.

"You're leaving?" she blurted out, cursing herself internally afterwards. She sounded pathetic to her own ears.

He finished dressing and looked back at her. "You need to get some rest, and so do I. For what little time is left before training begins again today."

"Training?" she asked. "But you just healed. You should be resting, too."

He smirked that cocky smirk. "I am the prince of all Saiyans. I am built for this. You, however, get the day off. I have rested enough." She furrowed her brow at that. She wasn't some weakling that needed days off because of lack of sleep…

He walked over to her and leaned over, coming face to face with her. "It's not an insult, woman. It's a royal command."

She rolled her eyes and flopped down on the bed. He chuckled and took her hand, bringing the inside of her wrist to his mouth and brushing a kiss along the sensitive skin. Bulma felt warmth once again rush through her, something that combined her physical need for him with the warmth and comfort of just being in his presence. She shivered.

He looked her in the eyes with that piercing gaze, and all she wanted to say to him was "stay." She remained silent.

"I expect to see you tomorrow at training," he whispered to her, his lips still pressed to her wrist and his eyes still on hers. She nodded wordlessly, her throat choked. He finally let go of her wrist, smirked at her again, and left the room.

The bedroom felt suddenly cold. After a moment, she heard her front door shut. She felt the sound reverberate through her body. It was so quiet. She curled herself into a ball and looked at the clock—4:20 am. Seeing those numbers on the clock seemed to remind her body just how tired she was. Her body was no longer as keyed up as it had been before, and she was suddenly drained. Her eyelids felt heavy, and her body felt limp. After days, she finally drifted off into an exhausted sleep, Vegeta's face floating in the darkness behind her eyelids.


AN: It happened! But now what...?

- Trixie-chan