.::THIRTEEN::.
Vegeta was going to kill the blue-haired woman. Every fiber of his being thrummed with that certainty. Whenever he found her, she was dead. It shouldn't be this hard to find one single person! He could feel her presence somewhere within Capsule Corp, the faint trace of energy sparking across his conscience like a beacon. His steps echoed ominously as he stalked through the halls, his mood darkening further with each empty room he passed.
Downstairs, he reached her office first, a place where she would sometimes be bent over her computer, but when it was empty, his frustration surged. His scowl deepened as he clenched his fists, nearly crushing the doorknob in his grip. The desk was cluttered with her usual array of tools and half-finished projects, yet there was no sign of her. He stormed out, heading to the secret lab she had once shown him in confidence.
Empty. His irritation flared hotter.
He ventured toward the central laboratory. Nothing. There was no trace of her in the workrooms either. Vegeta's eyes narrowed, his rage swirling dangerously as his patience thinned. He focused, honing his senses. She had to be close. She was close.
He shut his eyes and stood in the middle of the lab, ignoring the sterile hum of the machinery around him and focused on her energy. It flickered, faint but present, somewhere deeper within the building. Turning sharply, Vegeta strode down a dimly lit hallway, the narrow space stretching out before him. The hall was silent, except for the steady tap of his footsteps on the tiled floor. He scanned the area again, then his gaze landed on two double doors at the far end, slightly ajar.
Halfway down the hall, he caught a faint splashing sound. Vegeta's steps slowed, and his curiosity piqued despite his seething anger. What was she doing? He hadn't seen her in over a week, deliberately avoiding her, retreating into the gravity chamber longer than ever.
Every night, Vegeta waited until he knew she was asleep before venturing out of the chamber to the kitchen to heat up a meal the blonde woman had prepared for him. Afterward, he'd retreat back into the chamber and down into the lower level to sleep on the small cot.
But now, with most of the robots either broken or malfunctioning, Vegeta found himself needing the blue-haired woman, something he loathed to admit. It grated on him to realize he depended on her, especially when he'd been trying to distance himself. His pride screamed for an alternative. He would have gladly dealt with any other Capsule Corp employee, but fate wasn't so kind. With her father away on vacation, all the workers had also vanished, leaving only her.
And unfortunately, that meant Vegeta had no choice but to rely on her.
Vegeta stopped just short of the double doors, his body tense. It had been over a week since he'd last seen her, and in that time, the short reprieve had worked wonders on his focus. He had thrown himself into his training, hammering his body into exhaustion, and for once, his body had stopped betraying him. Waking up without an irritating erection had become the norm, and for several days, he'd managed not to think about her at all. At least, not in that way.
But now he needed her. The damn robots were essential, and the last two working models were becoming insufficient. No matter how much he tried to adapt, they couldn't handle the complexity of his needs, and his patience had run out.
More splashing sounds on the other side of the doors piqued his curiosity further. What could she possibly be doing? he wondered.
Vegeta inhaled deeply, steadying himself. The last thing he needed was his body reacting like some mindless fool the moment he laid eyes on her again. His hand hovered over the door, tension coiling in his muscles as he prepared himself mentally. One final breath, and he rounded the corner, stepping into a room he had never seen before. The soft light inside and the scent of water hit him first. His eyes quickly scanned the unfamiliar space, taking in every detail.
A massive pool dominated the center of the room, its water shimmering under the soft overhead lights. Several diving boards lined one side, while in the far corner, a couple of hot tubs sat bubbling away. The space was serene, yet as soon as Vegeta's eyes locked onto the far side of the pool, his throat tightened.
There she was, the blue-haired woman. She was climbing out of the pool, water cascading down her body as she ascended a small metal ladder. For a moment, Vegeta was frozen in place, his pulse quickening. He watched silently as she gripped the ladder, her muscles flexing as she hoisted herself up. Her wet hair clung to her back, and when she bent over to pull herself fully out, every ounce of the earlier murderous intent he had toward her evaporated in an instant.
This had been a bad idea, a very, very bad idea.
As she reached for the white towel draped over a lounge chair, completely oblivious to his presence, Vegeta's jaw clenched. Her back was still to him, and she began drying herself off casually as the water dripped from her body onto the tile floor. His eyes betrayed him, tracing the lines of her curves, the way her muscles shifted beneath her skin with each movement.
Then she bent over.
Her legs spread slightly, and the thin strip of her bathing suit hardly covered anything. His breath hitched, and the room seemed to shrink around him. She continued to dry herself, her motions slow and deliberate, completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. When she reached the towel between her legs to dry that last remaining spot, Vegeta's control snapped.
His body reacted without consent. He felt a sudden twitch in his shorts, and panic surged through him. Before he could even fully register the betrayal of his own body, he spun on his heels, his face burning with a mix of fury and something far more primal. Without a second thought, he bolted back down the hallway faster than even he could blink, his mind a chaotic storm.
This had been a terrible, terrible mistake.
xXx
Bulma straightened, pausing mid-movement as a soft sound caught her attention near the doorway. Her heart skipped a beat, and she turned quickly, her blue hair whipping over her shoulder as her sharp gaze swept across the opened doors. The doorway stood vacant, nothing but stillness. She hesitated, and a frown creased her forehead as she exhaled slowly, convincing herself it was her imagination playing tricks on her.
She shrugged and continued to pat herself dry, the soft cotton warm against her cool skin. Once done, Bulma wrapped the towel snugly around her frame and slid her feet into her sandals, and then she left the room. As the double doors closed behind her with a gentle click, she made her way through the hallway, and the familiar ache of her muscles brought a small smile to her lips. The swim had been exactly what she'd needed, her body now pleasantly exhausted after the long laps she had pushed herself to complete. It had been far too long since she had allowed herself to indulge in the pool, and today's workout had been what she'd been looking for to clear her mind.
The sound of her sandals echoed softly as she ascended the stairs toward the main house. To her surprise, her thoughts were blissfully quiet—a rare reprieve from the usual whirlwind of responsibilities that often occupied her mind. For once, everything felt still, her body and mind both at peace.
She smiled to herself. All Bulma wanted to do now was peel off her wet bathing suit, collapse into her bed, and let sleep wash over her. Her muscles ached from the long evening spent in the pool, and the weight of exhaustion pulled at her every step. But as she approached the second-floor landing, she froze.
There, just outside his room, stood Vegeta. The hallway was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the window at the end of the hall. His face was hidden in the darkness, his body barely visible. Her breath hitched as her pulse quickened. It had been over a week, twelve days to be exact, not that she was counting, since she'd last laid eyes on him. Vegeta had made a point to keep to himself in the gravity chamber. He'd been careful not to even cross in front of the chamber windows.
And now, here he was. Standing before her.
Bulma clutched the towel tighter, the damp fabric cold against her skin. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and cautiously stepped forward. The silence was suffocating, the tension between them almost palpable.
She opened her mouth, her voice rasping from the dryness in her throat. "Is... everything okay, Vegeta?" she asked, the words fragile in the still air.
For a moment, he didn't respond, and the silence stretched between them, making her heart pound louder inside her chest. But then, finally, his voice—low and strained—broke the quiet.
"The bots."
Bulma furrowed her brow, struggling to read his expression in the darkness. But with Vegeta, it was almost impossible to gauge what he was thinking or feeling anyway. But something about him tonight was off.
She nodded, her heart racing as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"Just take them to my office," she said, her voice a little steadier now. "I'll work on them in the morning."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned the knob of her bedroom door, the click of the latch sounding unusually loud in the quiet hallway. She cast one last glance in his direction, but the shadows still obscured his face. Then, she stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her, leaving Vegeta alone in the dark hallway.
xXx
The soft click of Bulma's door closing echoed through the dimly lit hallway, resonating in Vegeta's ears. His eyes were fixed on the closed door. He clenched his jaw as he stood rooted in place, battling the storm of conflicting emotions surging within him.
His arousal was undeniable as his cock stood rigid beneath his shorts. He was grateful for the cloak of darkness that enveloped the corridor. The shadows hid his shame, shielding his erection from her gaze.
Yet, a part of him wished it hadn't. What would have happened if she had noticed it? If her sharp blue eyes had flickered downward for just a moment and seen him, really seen him exposed in a way he never allowed himself to be, would she have recoiled? Or... would she have opened her door wider, inviting him in? Perhaps she would just have pretended not to notice, brushing him off with the same indifference she often showed him when they argued.
But why did he care?
What she thought, what she wanted, it was irrelevant. She was just a human, after all, weak and insignificant. She didn't matter. None of this mattered! Yet, as much as he told himself this, deep within, he knew it wasn't true. No matter how much he didn't want to admit it to himself.
Vegeta knew his desire for the woman ran deep within his veins. It was raw and primal. Without warning, his mind flashed with the image of her lying naked on his bed as he held her down, taking her in the most dominating way imaginable. He wanted to feel her squirm beneath his weight, to hear her voice break as she cried out his name into the night. Vegeta craved the sensation of driving into her so relentlessly that she'd beg him to stop long before he was satisfied.
By now, the burning heat in his loins was nearly unbearable as his cock strained against the confines of his shorts, desperate for release. Desperate to be inside of her. He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in sharp, ragged breaths through his nose to control himself.
She was a human. Just a human, he reminded himself with disdain. Fragile and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Her life was but a flicker compared to his own, and once he became a Super Saiyan and defeated Kakarot, she, along with the rest of this wretched world, would be no more.
Yet, despite telling himself that she didn't matter, his body betrayed him. His fists clenched at his sides as he glanced down at the evidence of his arousal. The stiff appendage throbbed against the tight fabric of his shorts. It pulsed, almost angrily, demanding attention, refusing to subside no matter how much he willed it away. He cursed himself under his breath, frustrated by his lack of control over this unrelenting hunger that grew for her.
Vegeta had managed to control himself for days, forcing his body to settle as long as he stayed away from her. The further he kept away from the blue-haired woman, the easier it became to suppress his urges. But all it had took was one glance for that fragile restraint to crumble.
He recalled quite clearly the curve of her backside, the way her wet skin had glistened under the dim light... When Vegeta had laid eyes on Bulma, a surge rocked through his body, and his cock had immediately hardened.
The primal need to take her had risen quickly, fierce and unrelenting. He wanted her. No! He needed her. His body demanded to take her, to claim her, to mark her as his. His cock ached for the heat of her flesh, for the tightness of her cunt wrapped around him as he thrust into her again and again.
His breathing became ragged again as his thoughts spiraled into more explicit fantasies. His body began to shake, muscles tightening as he fought to hold himself back, to maintain the thin thread of control he had left. But it was slipping. He was slipping. His instincts were clawing their way to the surface, overpowering the rational part of his mind.
He didn't know how much longer he could restrain himself, how much longer he could resist the urge to act on the dark desires that consumed him. He was reaching his breaking point. And it was going to be soon. Soon, his instincts would take over, and there would be no stopping what came next.
It was then that he heard it, a soft, almost imperceptible moan. Vegeta's eyes snapped open, and for a moment, it felt as though his heart had stopped altogether. The sound was faint, so delicate that without his heightened Saiyan senses, he would have missed it entirely. If he'd been in his room with the door shut, he would never have known. But now, in the silence of the hallway, that quiet sound seemed to reverberate in his mind, sinking deep into his very core.
Another moan slipped through the bottom of the closed door, and the effect on him was immediate. His cock twitched in response, throbbing as hot, liquid desire surged through him. Vegeta bit down on his bottom lip, trying to regain control, but the rush of blood through his veins and the rapid pounding of his heart between his ears made it impossible to think clearly. The pulsing heat in his body was overwhelming, flooding his senses with nothing but thoughts of her, of what was happening behind that closed door.
He found himself moving before his brain could catch up to his body. His feet carried him forward, the distance between him and her door closing quickly. He didn't knock. He didn't hesitate. His hand moved with purpose, gripping the doorknob, and in a single fluid motion, he turned it and opened the door.
xXx
When the door creaked open, Bulma had just slipped a finger inside herself, her breath shallow. The sudden intrusion startled her, and her eyes shot toward the entrance, locking onto the stoic figure of the Saiyan prince. Vegeta stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable, casting a long shadow into the dimly lit room. She bolted upright, instinctively yanking the blankets up to cover her exposed skin as her heart pounded against her ribs.
"Vegeta!" she gasped, her voice shaky. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
Her pulse quickened, racing at a breakneck speed as the seconds dragged on. The silence between them grew heavier, thick with tension, her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths. The air in the room felt suffocating with his presence.
"Vegeta?" she whispered, her voice faint.
Vegeta stepped over the threshold and into the room without uttering a single word. Then, with a pull, the door shut softly behind him. The sound seemed to echo in the stillness, and Bulma's breath caught in her throat. Her thoughts scattered, her mind scrambling to make sense of his presence. What was he doing? Was he feeling the same pull that she felt toward him? Could his mind be aligned with hers, craving the same unspoken desire as she did?
That dangerous thought ignited a spark inside her, her heart racing to catch up with the whirlwind in her head. Her room was bathed in deep shadows, but the light from the full moon outside spilled in through the window, casting a faint silver glow across everything. It was just enough for Bulma to make out the strong outline of the Saiyan standing in her doorway. Vegeta was shirtless, his muscled torso glistening faintly in the dim light. His hand remained on the doorknob as if he were holding on for some kind of anchor. Or, maybe he was going to leave?
Though his face was mostly shrouded in shadow, Bulma could feel his eyes on her, like a burning weight pressing down on her skin. What she could see clearly, though, was the way his broad chest rose and fell rapidly. The labored rhythm of his breathing made her bite her lip. The tension in the air between them was palpable, thick with unspoken words, and charged with an almost unbearable intensity.
Good, Bulma thought, her pulse quickening with the realization. If his rapid breathing and tense posture were anything to go by, Vegeta wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. The heat of that knowledge suddenly sent a thrill through her.
Slowly, she slid the comforter down her body, stopping just before her bare nipples were exposed, teasing him.
"Like what you see?" she purred, her voice low and thick with desire, a dangerous edge lacing her words.
She watched intently as his grip on the doorknob tightened, his knuckles straining on the metal. Vegeta, the proud Saiyan warrior, was unraveling before her eyes, and she was the cause! A spike of triumph shot through her, along with a sense of power that made her heart race even faster—if that was even possible. With slow, deliberate motions, Bulma let the comforter fall completely to her waist, her chest fully exposed to the Saiyan.
Twenty agonizingly long seconds passed, not that she'd been counting, before the stoic Saiyan dropped his hand from the doorknob. Without a word, he slowly came forward, crossing the threshold that seemed to stretch for miles between them.
In her thirty-one years of life, Bulma had never felt sexier than she did right now. To know that she, of all people, could bring Vegeta—the invincible Saiyan prince, the man who had nearly defeated Goku, the strongest warrior she had ever known—to his knees was empowering. The air between them crackled with raw, primal energy, and she could see the hunger in his every movement as he approached.
As he stood at the foot of her bed, Bulma could see him far more clearly, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. The moonlight spilled through the large window beside her bed, casting his powerful form in the moonlight. His dark eyes, piercing and intense, swept over her, staring down at her flushed face, then moving downward, pausing on her exposed, perky breast. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, matching the quick pace of his breathing, and a strange thrill rippled through her. She was a mere human, yet here she was, stirring desire in Prince Vegeta.
Bulma's gaze wandered downward, drinking in the sight of his chiseled torso, the way his muscles stood taut beneath his skin, leading to his defined six-pack. Her eyes ventured lower, toward where his shorts hung low on his hips. Her breath caught in her throat again as she saw what they could barely contain. Straining against the fabric was Vegeta's hard and fully erect penis. The sheer size of him was unmistakable; the outline pressed so firmly against his shorts that Bulma could see exactly how thick and long the Saiyan really was.
Her throat tightened, and she forgot how to swallow. Her eyes snapped back up to meet his, and when their gazes locked, Vegeta smirked. The world around her seemed to vanish. Every rational thought dissolved, and it felt like her body had forgotten how to function —her heart stuttered, her limbs went limp, and her mind blanked completely as she had short-circuited.
"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees," Vegeta commanded, his voice low and gravelly.
Bulma's mouth fell open as she stared into the depths of his dark eyes, shocked by his bluntness.
"What?" The words slipped from her lips before she could even process them.
"You heard me. On your hands and knees, woman." His voice was rough and insistent, sending a shiver down her spine.
Without thinking, without considering the consequences, her body responded. Bulma turned and positioned herself at the edge of the bed, obeying him completely as she got on her hands and knees. Vulnerable and exposed, she bared everything to the Saiyan prince.