.::TWENTY::.
The hum of some machine drifted from Bulma's room, a sound Vegeta couldn't immediately identify. Intrigued but not bothering to tread lightly, he pushed the door of her bedroom open without hesitation and stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind him with finality.
The room was surprisingly immaculate—nothing like the disorderly chaos he'd encountered on the last two occasions he'd been in here. The bed was neatly made, and the floor was clear of stray clothes, magazines, and junk. The room didn't seem like the same space at all.
Then, his eyes fell on Bulma. She was seated at a small vanity desk with an attached mirror, her posture hunched forward, her hair cascading down over her head. She wielded some device that blasted air through her damp locks. The machine whirred loudly, filling the room with its droning, and it was clear she hadn't noticed or heard his intrusion. Vegeta caught his reflection in the mirror's glass—his sharp, angular form standing in the background—where her eyes would inevitably meet his when Bulma straightened up, tossing her hair back over her shoulders.
Right now, he could turn back and leave without a word, and she would be none the wiser. He could return to the privacy of his quarters, rid himself of this strange, restless energy clawing at his chest, and bury it under the relentless grind of his training in the gravity chamber. He had no reason to linger—no reason at all. But despite himself, Vegeta remained rooted in place, his body betraying the rational voice in his mind that urged him to leave. If he was going to address the tension simmering within him, he might as well follow through on the unspoken invitation Bulma had extended to him earlier. The thought alone sent a jolt of heat through him. She would undoubtedly feel far better than the inadequate relief of his hand.
His dark eyes stayed fixed on her back, tracing the movements of her small form as she worked on her hair. She wore a thin, almost sheer robe, the fabric clinging to her. He watched as her shoulder blades shifted subtly beneath it as her arms moved, the smooth motions oddly mesmerizing. Vegeta wondered what she was wearing beneath. Was she bare? The idea alone was enough to send a wave of heat through him, rekindling the arousal that had momentarily subsided during his short walk to her room.
As if on cue, Bulma suddenly straightned. She flipped her hair back over her shoulders in a fluid motion. The abruptness of her movements made Vegeta's muscles tense as he stared over at her. The hair dryer clicked off, and the room fell into silence, broken only by the faint rustling as she placed it on her desk. Reaching for a brush, she began combing through her hair and Vegeta's chest tightened. The rhythmic motion of her body, her serene obliviousness to his presence, and his growing awareness of what he wanted tangled together into a knot of anticipation.
It took longer than he expected, but Vegeta caught it when she noticed him in the mirror. Her hand froze mid-stroke, the brush slipping from her fingers and clattering softly onto the desk. Her eyes widened as they locked onto his reflection.
"Vegeta…" she whispered.
Her barely audible voice sent a strange ripple through him. She swiveled in her chair to face him, and his gaze dropped to the robe—its tie barely cinched around her waist. The fabric shifted as she moved, revealing the soft curve of her collarbone and the tops of her breasts. The sight seized his attention, and his nostrils flared as a surge of heat flooded his veins.
For a fleeting moment, Vegeta forgot where he was. All he saw was her—the woman sitting before him, her soft hair framing her face, her robe clinging to her body in ways that left very little to his imagination. She was stunning in a way that rendered him almost immobile. He had traveled to countless planets and seen the beauty of alien species and exotic worlds, and yet no one—not a single female—had ever struck him like this.
Usually, if they were appealing and willing, he took what he wanted without a second thought. But this woman—Bulma—was nothing like those brief encounters. She was different in every conceivable way. Her beauty wasn't just skin deep; there was something maddeningly alluring about her, something that set his nerves on edge and made his heart pound in ways he couldn't control.
And that nervousness—he hated it. It was foreign, unwelcome. Vegeta, the Saiyan Prince who had faced countless battles and spilled oceans of blood, stood rooted to the spot, suddenly unsure of himself. The thought of what he wanted to do—what he had come here for–left a strange, unfamiliar weight in his chest.
He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but staring at her from across the room, with the tension thick enough to slice, Vegeta felt… inexperienced. And that realization only fueled his frustration—and his desire—all the more. A flush crept across his face, and his jaw tightened. It was infuriating to acknowledge, but the woman before him clearly had far more experience regarding matters of intimacy. It was a glaring reminder of his inadequacy—a concept he despised.
Vegeta clenched his fists at his sides, cursing himself for the weakness that dared surface. He was a Saiyan Prince, for Kami's sake! A warrior born and bred. But as much as he tried to cling to that Saiyan pride, he couldn't ignore the truth of his true upbringing under the rule of Frieza. His life had been one of constant vigilance, where lowering his guard even for a moment could mean death.
That life was far behind him now, yet the habits lingered. Here on Earth, with no master to command him and no immediate threat to overcome, Vegeta had more free time than he'd ever known. And though his plans for the planet's future were clear, there was no reason not to enjoy its spoils in the meantime. Her voice interrupted his thoughts, cutting through the haze of his inner turmoil.
"I didn't think you'd come back."
She glanced downward, and he knew exactly where her attention had landed—the bulge in his sweat pants, impossible to miss. Her eyes flicked back up to meet his, and in that moment, the air between them shifted. The way she looked at him made it clear she understood why he was there. She knew what he wanted, and the knowledge hung heavy in the charged silence that followed. Vegeta blinked, his internal struggle collapsing as something more primal took over.
Without hesitation, he reached down and exposed himself, his hard, throbbing erection in full view. His sharp, dark eyes flicked to Bulma, and the sight of her biting her lip, her gaze locked on him with undisguised hunger, sent a jolt of confidence through him. With his hand wrapped firmly around his length, he began to stroke himself in slow, deliberate movements. The sensation, paired with her undivided attention, was intoxicating.
Bulma was a vision. The thin robe barely clung to her shoulders, one side slipping to reveal more of her smooth skin. She leaned slightly forward in her chair with interest, her piercing blue eyes fixed on every motion of his hand. Vegeta swallowed hard, his breath catching as he slowly rubbed over the sensitive tip that sent a shiver down his spine. For some reason, his hand felt much better now than when he'd been alone in his room earlier.
Her gaze roamed over him shamelessly, drinking him in. The way he noticed her thighs pressed together, and her grip on the edge of the chair made it clear she was as affected as he was by the moment. Vegeta let out a soft, low moan, the sound breaking the silence, and it seemed to hit Bulma like a spark to kindling.
"Oh, Vegeta," she murmured, her voice husky, almost reverent.
He felt a flicker of self-consciousness, a sensation alien to him. But that discomfort was quickly overshadowed by the way she continued to watch him. Her grip on the back of the chair tightened, her knuckles white against the wood. She was utterly captivated by watching him pleasure himself.
"Do you like this?" he asked, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
"Definitely," she replied instantly.
Her admission sent a fresh surge of arousal through him, and before he could think better of it, his legs carried him forward. He moved purposefully, closing the space between them until he stood directly before her.
Her eyes lifted to meet his, smoldering with desire. He continued stroking himself, his movements unhurried, savoring the moment. The air was thick with desire and unspoken intent. Vegeta's gaze bore into her, his breathing heavy with want.
The silk robe clung delicately to her shoulders, slipping even lower as she adjusted herself in the chair. The fabric parted just enough to reveal the soft curve of her pink nipples exposed at the edge of the smooth silk. Her eyes locked onto his with a piercing intensity, a depth of beauty that seemed to radiate from her like a flame. She had never looked more breathtaking.
Without conscious thought, his free hand moved to the robe, tugging it downward, allowing the fabric to slide off entirely and expose her breast to his gaze. Her skin gleamed in the dim light, each delicate curve rendering him momentarily speechless.
"So… beautiful…" he murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.
Vegeta's hand trembled slightly as he reached out. His fingers brushed against the supple curve of her breast. The warmth of her skin sent a jolt of sensation through him, and he caressed her tenderly, marveling at the softness of her.
A sharp, electrifying heat surged through his body, and he glanced downward, catching sight of a glistening bead forming at the tip of his cock. His arousal was growing at an intensity he'd never experienced before. He had never touched a woman like this, and the sensation was unlike anything he could have imagined.
Shame crept over him, seeping into his thoughts as he remembered just how inexperienced he was when it came to intimacy. The weight of his inadequacy made his stomach twist. Vegeta straightened abruptly, his hand dropping to his side, but his gaze never wavered from hers, knowing his eyes burned with hunger.
Bulma's tongue snuck out and licked her lips. Vegeta's breath caught, and his pulse raced as his eyes fell from her face to the hardened peaks of her nipples, and it stirred something primal within him. He wanted to taste her so badly. A low, guttural growl rumbled from his throat as her hands moved, pulling her arms out of the robe with aching slowness. The material fell away, exposing her torso fully to his unblinking gaze.
She was perfect as he stared at her breast. Then he thought, why not claim what was right before him? With a sudden yet gentle force, Vegeta grasped her hand. He guided her to her feet. She followed without hesitation and stood before him. The robe slipped from her waist, pooling soundlessly at her feet.
The sight of her stole the breath from Vegeta's lungs. She stood before him completely bare, her smooth skin glowing faintly under the light. His mouth went dry as his eyes drank her in, trailing over the flawless curve of her breasts as they rose and fell with each quickened breath. They swayed slightly with her movements, mesmerizing him. His gaze drifted lower to the space between her thighs.
A soft tuft of blue hair was nestled at the apex of her legs, barely concealing the intimate cleft. His chest tightened with an overwhelming combination of desire and wonder as he realized just how exposed she was. How willingly she offered herself to him.
Bulma reached up, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. She placed her hands gently on Vegeta's cheeks. Her soft, almost hesitant touch sent a shiver down his spine, and Vegeta's body responded instinctively. A low rumbling sound escaped his throat, not quite a purr but close. He leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth of her hands against his skin, something he hadn't realized he craved so deeply.
Without thinking, Vegeta slipped his arms around her, drawing her close against his chest. Her body molded perfectly to his, and for a moment, he let himself enjoy the sensation of her warmth. Then, she tilted her head and pulled his face closer, her intentions clear in the soft parting of her lips and flutter of her lashes as they drifted closed.
Vegeta knew what she wanted, and he realized that deep down, he wanted it, too—more than anything. Slowly, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers, brushing against them so lightly. The moment lingered, electrifying, before he pulled back, turning his head slightly. A heartbeat passed, and then he kissed her again, deeper this time, his lips molding against hers with more confidence.
Her lips were impossibly soft, and her skin felt like silk beneath his touch as his hands wandered across her back. She sighed into the kiss, and he felt her melt against him. Encouraged, Vegeta slid his hands lower, tracing the curve of her spine before they came to rest on her ass. He squeezed, the firm yet yielding flesh fitting perfectly into his palms. A soft moan escaped her, muffled against his mouth, and the sound ignited something primal. Without hesitation, Vegeta lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
Bulma instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs encircling his waist, clinging to him as if she never wanted to let him go. The heat of her pressed so intimately against him was maddening. His cock throbbed, twitching against her ass as she held her firmly. Every inch of him ached for her, the raw need threatening to consume him as their kiss deepened further, both of them lost in the moment.
As their tongues intertwined, he found he wanted more and more of this. More of the things he'd never experienced. He could have stood there forever holding her in his arms while his mouth was on hers, but the aching in his cock was starting to become unbearable as it rested against her backside.
Breathlessly, he broke contact, though he regretted it as soon as he pulled back. Without saying anything, Vegeta turned with her in his arms and walked over to her bed. As gently as he could, he laid the woman against the mattress and crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of her between her opened legs. His arms shook, not from pain but from nerves. He'd never taken a woman like this before, and as much as he hated it, Vegeta was slightly apprehensive. What if he hurt her? What if he was too heavy?
A soft smile curled upon her lips, and with a slow motion, she reached up and placed her soft hands on his face. Gently, she pulled down until his face was inches from hers. Kissing her on the bed was better than he imagined, a fire igniting in the shared heat between their bodies. Vegeta hovered over her, the muscles in his arms taut as he held himself up. His cock was achingly close to her exposed entrance, the heat radiating from her sending a thrilling pulse through him.
The temptation to press closer was overwhelming, and he gave in, shifting his weight onto his left elbow, bringing their bodies flush together. Her soft curves molded against the hard lines of his body, and Vegeta was meticulous, ensuring that his weight didn't press down too heavily on her. As he moved, his arousal brushed against her thigh.
He broke their kiss, his dark eyes sweeping down to her chest where her breasts were bare before him. The sight of her peaked nipples stirred something primal, and slowly, he trailed his hand from her shoulder, his fingertips ghosting down her skin until they reached one of her nipples. He traced the soft swell of flesh before brushing over the sensitive bud.
Bulma's body tensed slightly under his touch, and her breath hitched when his fingers lightly pinched the hardened nub. The sound sent a thrill racing through him, compelling him to do more. Following the pull of instinct, Vegeta adjusted his position, lowering himself until his face was level with her chest.
He paused, letting his breath fan over her skin, and then he took her nipple into his mouth. Her reaction was immediate. She gasped sharply, the sound like music to his ears. Vegeta's gaze flicked up to her face, checking for any signs of discomfort, but what he saw instead made his chest tighten. Her head tilted back, her lips parted, her expression full of pleasure.
Feeling reassured, he moved his tongue in slow, deliberate circles around the peak, savoring the way her body reacted to every touch. Vegeta suckled gently, alternating between light nips that made her squirm beneath him and harder bites that made her moan his name out loud. Though he'd never done this before, every sound she made, every tremor of her body told him that he was doing something right.
Once Vegeta had devoted ample attention to her right breast, he shifted his focus to the left. His mouth latched onto her nipple with eagerness. Bulma arched her back slightly, her fingers threaded into his thick hair, gripping it. She held him close to her, her breath coming in shallow gasps as he teased her sensitive skin with his tongue.
"Fuck," she breathed, her voice trembling with pleasure. "That feels so good."
Her words lit a fire within him, spurring him on. Vegeta increased the intensity of his actions, his mouth working fervently until his own breathing grew ragged. His lips left her breast as he lifted his head, and his eyes locked with hers. She peered at him through her lashes, and his stomach twisted. The intensity in her expression was unlike anything he had ever seen directed toward him. It stirred something foreign and unsettling within him.
Vegeta felt his heart clench in a way that made him want to recoil from this bed, this room, away from her. But deep down, he found that the pull toward her was stronger. Needing a distraction from the emotions threatening to unravel him, he leaned forward and captured her lips in a fervent kiss. He shut his eyes when her arms wrapped around him, her fingertips grazing his back and shoulders. The kiss deepened, their movements growing more desperate as they lost themselves in the moment.
This time, Vegeta let his hips lower, positioning himself at her entrance. His cock grazed her slick heat, the sensation drawing a guttural growl from his throat. The tip of him slid against her, the warmth and wetness sending shivers up his spine. His muscles tensed as he hovered there, caught in the intoxicating tension of the moment.
Vegeta didn't think he was ready to take that final step, but the soft, desperate sound she made when she broke their kiss shattered his resolve. Desire surged through him, raw and unrelenting, and he knew he couldn't hold back any longer. The need to be buried deep inside her consumed him.
Vegeta leaned back to his knees, pausing to drink her in. His gaze roamed slowly over her body, savoring every detail. Bulma lay before him, her pale skin flushed, her legs wide. The sight of her slick, glistening folds sent a shiver down his spine, his throat tightening at the sheer sensuality of the moment. She was utterly captivating, a vision unlike anything he'd ever known.
His eyes traveled upward, finally meeting hers. She smiled, her lips curled in that teasing, knowing way that always infuriated him—and yet, at this moment, it left Vegeta utterly spellbound.
"Like what you see?" she purred, her voice dripping with confidence.
Her fingers lazily teased one of her nipples, and he was rendered speechless. Vegeta could only nod. This woman who was so frustratingly stubborn, so infuriatingly bossy, had him utterly at her mercy. A mere human. From fucking Earth! And yet, in this moment, all he could think about was how perfect this being before him was. She wasn't just beautiful—she was a force of nature, unlike any female he had ever met. Her pride, her willfulness, her refusal to bow to anyone, not even him, reminded Vegeta of the Saiyan women from his home world. Strong. Fierce. Fearless. Bulma was everything he admired, everything he desired, and everything he never thought he'd find.
The need for this woman overwhelmed him, driving every rational thought from his mind. Vegeta lowered his hand, gripping himself. With deliberate slowness, he rubbed the tip of his cock against her slick entrance, the heat and wetness sending a shudder through him. A guttural groan escaped his lips as he slid his length up and down, coating the tip of himself in her arousal. Once Vegeta felt ready, he positioned himself at her opening, the tip of his cock pressed gently against her. He paused, his dark eyes lifting to meet hers.
"I'm ready," she murmured, her voice soft.
Drawing a steadying breath, Vegeta held still and pushed forward, sliding just past his head. He froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. His heart pounded in his chest—so fast and so hard that for a moment, Vegeta wondered if he was having a heart attack.
Beneath him, Bulma moaned, her body arching into his. Her hands reached out for him again, her palms skimming over his chest and arms. The soothing warmth of her touch steadied him, grounding him in the moment. The head of his cock twitched inside her, and Vegeta finally allowed his instincts to take over fully.
In one fluid motion, he pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt. Their voices mingled in a shared moan, the sound echoing through the room. He stayed still for a moment, giving her time to adjust to him while he tried to catch his breath.
Bulma trembled beneath him, her body quivering as it accommodated his fullness. Gently, Vegeta reached up and ran a hand through her hair, brushing it back from her flushed face. His touch was uncharacteristically tender, his fingers lingering briefly on her cheek.
"Kiss me," she said.
Bulma barely finished her request before Vegeta closed the gap between them, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwined, the kiss deepening with raw intensity as he began to move inside of her. Slowly, he pulled halfway out of her, savoring the sensation of her warm core that gripped him before he glided back in with deliberate care. A low moan rumbled in his chest, muffled by their kiss, as he repeated the motion, in and out of her.
The kiss broke when Vegeta pulled away, gasping for air. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. He continued his steady thrusts. Her arms encircled his shoulders, holding him tightly as soft moans escaped her lips with every movement he made. The sheer pleasure coursing through Vegeta was overwhelming, a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced. It baffled him—how he could have denied himself such indulgences for so long.
But then the answer hit him like a strike to the chest. There had never been anyone in his past he trusted enough to be this vulnerable with, to allow himself to experience this intimacy with another person. The thought unsettled him, and he shook his head, willing away the negativity from this moment.
Driven by a need to ground himself in the present, Vegeta sat up on his knees, still buried deep within her. His hands found her legs, gripping them firmly as he pushed them further apart, exposing her completely to his gaze. His eyes roved over her, consumed by the sight of her body—her flushed skin, her glistening core, and her breast bouncing with every thrust he made. He glanced down, watching himself disappear inside her, the visual fueling the fire within.
When Bulma's eyes locked with his, Vegeta thought he had seen her at her most beautiful before. But in this moment, with her taking all of him so willingly, her body arching in response to his, it was the most stunning sight he had ever seen.
A sharp twitch in his cock drew a louder moan from her, her back arching as the sensation rippled through them both. Her cries of pleasure were music to his ears, spurring him on. Needing more, Vegeta shifted, lifting her legs and placing her feet near his shoulders. He leaned forward, driving deeper than he had before.
"Oh, Vegeta!" she cried out, her voice trembling with pleasure,
Encouraged, Vegeta rode the wave of her reaction, his pace quickening to an inhuman speed for a brief but intense moment. Her cries grew louder, and her body trembled beneath him, but he quickly slowed, not wanting to overwhelm or hurt her.
Vegeta pulled out reluctantly, about to suggest she get on her knees, when Bulma surprised him. She patted the mattress beside her, gesturing for him to join her. Curiosity sparked in his eyes, and without hesitation, he obeyed. He lay beside her, his gaze fixed on her face, wondering what she had planned next.
xXx
This night had transformed into everything Bulma had dreamed of but never dared to believe could happen. For once, Vegeta wasn't the untouchable, stoic Saiyan Prince or the intimidating warrior with a thousand walls around him. At least in this moment tonight, he was hers. The thought filled her chest with a nervous thrill. She silently prayed that tonight would leave a lasting impression on him, something powerful enough to make him stop running away from her.
Her thoughts replayed his earlier words. He'd actually called her beautiful. Bulma's heart had stopped. It was a word she'd never expected to hear from him. Not in a million years. Annoying? Sure Bratty? Undoubtedly. But beautiful? Her chest tightened at the memory.
Vegeta lay on his side, propped up by his elbow, beside her, bare in every sense of the word. His dark eyes met hers, steady and searching. The dim light of the room highlighted the sharp planes of his face and the curve of his powerful body. Reaching out, she rested a hand on his shoulder, and the warmth of his skin sent a shiver through her.
"Lay on your back," she instructed, pushing his shoulder.
To her surprise, he complied without a word. No sharp retort, no sarcastic quip. Just quiet obedience that left her momentarily stunned. As he shifted onto his back, she sat up. Then Bulma swung a leg over him and straddled his hips in one fluid motion.
The look on his face was priceless—a rare moment when the Saiyan Prince appeared to be genuinely caught off guard. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and his brows twitched together in surprise. It was almost enough to make her laugh out loud. Almost. She bit down on the urge worried he'd misinterpret it.
Bulma placed her wet pussy down onto his shaft and rubbed herself up and down the hardened length, savoring the friction. A breathy sigh escaped her lips, and she leaned forward to capture his mouth in a heated kiss. She couldn't get enough of his lips, tongue, taste, and touch. Tonight, Vegeta seemed uncharacteristic and permissive, and she was determined to take full advantage of his surrender.
As the kiss deepened, her fingers tangled in his hair. Without breaking their connection, she reached down and wrapped her hand around his length. His response was immediate—his hips jerked, and she felt the raw power that flowed through him. A sly smirk spread across her lips as she pressed them against his once more, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.
Bulma shifted slightly, positioning him at her entrance. With the head of his cock pressed against her, she paused for a moment, letting the anticipation stretch between them. Vegeta looked down between their bodies, his gaze sharp and intent as he watched her begin to lower herself. Slowly, deliberately, she took him in, inch by inch, until he was buried completely inside her.
A deep moan tore from her throat as she settled fully onto him. The sensation was overwhelming—he filled her completely, stretching her in a way that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She could feel him twitch inside her, and the way he fit against her sent shivers racing down her spine.
Bracing her hands against his broad chest, Bulma began to move. Her hips rolled in a slow, deliberate rhythm, and at first, the friction drew soft gasps from her lips. But soon, she found herself unable to hold back, her movements growing more earnest as she started to bounce on his length.
Vegeta's hands found her hips, anchoring himself to her. His eyes, usually so guarded, were transfixed to where their bodies joined, the intensity in his gaze making her heart race. Bulma, however, couldn't tear her eyes from his face. Something was intoxicating about watching the stoic Saiyan before her. The faint flush on his cheeks, the way his jaw clenched as he tried to hold back how he truly felt, all filled her with a sharp sense of power.
She leaned forward, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "You like this, don't you?"
Her voice was teasing, a sultry lilt she knew would get under his skin. And when he growled in response, his grip on her tightened. She smiled against his neck. This was what she had been wanting for so, so long. Bulma moaned louder this time, the sound spilling from her lips as the wave of her release began to build. She forced herself to slow her movements, to savor every sensation as she moved up and down on him.
She wanted this night to last forever—this unspoken connection, this raw intimacy—but a small part of her couldn't silence the worry lingering in her mind. Would Vegeta avoid her after this? His track record for emotional vulnerability wasn't exactly reassuring.
Her silent worries vanished when Vegeta's intense gaze finally broke away from their joining bodies to lock onto her eyes, and Bulma's heart hammered wildly in her chest. Vegeta's fingertips dug into her thighs as she rocked her hips over his hard cock.
Under his touch, she felt utterly powerful, feminine, and desirable in a way she'd never experienced before. Encouraged by the heat in his eyes, Bulma leaned back, arching her spine to give him an unfiltered view of her naked form. The movement only heightened the friction between them, and her lips parted in a sharp gasp. Bulma's hand moved instinctively to her breast, fingers pinching her hardened nipple before giving it a teasing tug that sent a shiver down her.
Then, without warning, Vegeta sat up in a fluid motion. His mouth descended on her other nipple, hot and demanding, while his arm curled protectively around her waist to steady her. The feeling of his lips and tongue against her sent a white-hot burst of pleasure through her, leaving her breathless. Even as she continued to move up and down on his hardened length, she tangled her finger in his hair.
He growled low in his throat—a sound so primal and rich with desire that it sent a fresh flood of heat pooling in her belly. Kami, he was devastatingly sexy, and in this moment he was entirely hers.
How had they even come to this point, she wondered. Their lives had been so chaotic, so tangled with conflict and pain, that ending up here together felt like some impossible twist of fate. Yet, as she gazed at him—his expression raw with intensity, his body moving in sync with hers—it all made a strange kind of sense. There was something about him, about this moment, that felt so undeniably right. It was as if everything she'd ever experienced had led her to this, to him. For the first time in a long while, she felt certain she was exactly where she was meant to be.
"Fuck, Bulma," Vegeta groweld, his voice low and strained as he buried his face between her breast.
Her breath hitched. She'd never heard him say her name before, not like this—with such unguarded urgency, as though she were his only tether to the moment. The sound of it on his lips sent her spiraling. Bulma clutched his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin as her release built with dizzying speed. Her body trembled beneath him, teetering on the edge of something earth-shattering.
But just as Bulma was about to tip over the edge, Vegeta stopped moving and effortlessly shifted their position, lying her back down on the cool sheets. Vegeta's body hovered over her, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a heat threatening to consume her. He began to move again, each thrust deliberate and very, very slow.
That pace didn't last. Within moments, restraint gave way to raw need, and his rhythm turned punishingly fast and deep. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room, mingling with her cries of pleasure. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his arms as her body writhed beneath his.
"More," she gasped, her voice breaking with desperation. "Vegeta, more!"
And he gave it to her—harder, faster until her world dissolved into nothing but pleasure. Her cries grew louder, filling the room, as her release barreled toward her again with unstoppable force. The intensity of it was overwhelming, but she welcomed it. Ready to let it take her completely.
"Oh, Vegeta, I'm gonna' cum!" Bulma gasped, her words trembling as the pressure within her built to a fever pitch.
Her confession drew a deep growl from him, the sound vibrating against her skin as Vegeta leaned in close. His hot breath brushed her ear before his tongue unexpectedly darted out to trace a slow, deliberate path along the side of her neck, leaving her shivering beneath him.
"Do it!" he commanded, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with raw intensity.
It was a tone she hardly recognized, sending a jolt straight through her. Bulma's nails dug into the firm muscles of his back, desperate for something to anchor her as each of his thrusts pushed her closer to the edge. The friction, the heat, and the unrelenting pace coalesced into a furious storm inside her. Vegeta's movements were precise and unrelenting, his body driving into hers with a singular focus, hitting that perfect spot over and over again.
And then it happened. The tension inside her snapped, the dam burst, and Bulma spiraled into oblivion. Her orgasm tore through her with breathtaking force, her cries echoing in the room as her body tensed and arched beneath him. Her arms wrapped tightly around Vegeta's neck, holding on for dear life as wave after wave of ecstasy wracked her.
Seconds after her orgasm erupted, Vegeta's followed. His moan filled her ear before morphing into a deep growl that sent shivers down her spine. She felt him tense above her, his body rigid as his release began, and the telltale twitch of his cock inside her reignited the fire within. Every pulse of his release seemed to sync with hers, their bodies locked in a shared moment of pleasure.
Vegeta's growl deepened, his breath ragged and uneven as he spilled himself into her. The unmistakable sensation of his warmth spreading inside her was both intimate and electrifying. It took a while for his powerful body to still, but eventually, the spasms inside her subsided.
And after their climaxes had both faded, Vegeta didn't move to pull away from her. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, gathering her against him. With an effortless motion, he hooked her legs around his waist and stood, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. Bulma blinked, startled, as he strode toward the bathroom.
Vegeta turned on the shower, and Bulma's mouth fell open in astonishment. The sound of the running water filled the room, but neither of them spoke. Vegeta held her close, his grip firm, his body still pressed intimately inside of her. Bulma rested her head on his shoulder as the steam rose within the bathroom. For once, she didn't feel the need to fill the air with chitchat; for now, the silence felt enough.
Once the water reached a temperature he was apparently satisfied with, Vegeta stepped into the shower with her still wrapped around him. The spray cascaded over their bodies, washing away the sheen of sweat from them. Slowly, Vegeta lifted her so he could slip himself free of her. The sensation made her shiver. Reluctantly, Bulma unwrapped her legs from his waist, planting her feet on the tile floor.
Bulma took a small step away from him, standing fully exposed and vulnerable under the warm spray. While in the bedroom, she had felt bold and unashamed, completely lost in the throes of passion. But under his intense, unreadable gaze, a flicker of self-consciousness crept in.
Vegeta, however, didn't seem to notice—or perhaps he didn't care, but without saying a word, he reached for the pink loofah hanging nearby and the bar of soap. She watched as his strong fingers quickly lather the soft sponge. Bulma blinked, stunned as he reached out.
He started at her neck, the loofa gliding over her wet skin. Vegeta's brow knitted together in concentration as though this simple act of care required hard focus. By the time he moved to her shoulders and arms, Bulma's chest was tight with emotion she couldn't quite name. She'd never thought she'd live to see this side of the Saiyan—tender, unguarded, attentive—and she wasn't about to break the spell by saying something stupid. Instead, she stood still as his hands moved over her bare skin with surprising gentleness.
When the loofah reached her chest, his movements slowed. Vegeta's eyes watched as he worked, his hand gliding the soapy sponge over each breast with meticulous care. He didn't rush, didn't hurry through the motions, and the faintest hint of a smile ghosted over his lips. He was clearly enjoying what he was doing, and his thorough attention only confirmed it.
As Vegeta's hands traveled lower, tracing the curve of her torso, she exhaled a soft sigh and took a step forward to lean against him. But just as she touched him, he shifted her, gently turning her around. He resumed his task without a word, slowly rubbing the loofah over her back.
Once Vegeta finished, he turned her back to face him, their eyes meeting. There was no smirk, no teasing comment—just a quiet intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken. She silently marveled at the contradiction standing before her—a man capable of unimaginable strength, someone who had killed billions and destroyed planets completely, was able to display such tenderness.
Vegeta re-lathered the loofah again, the soap bubbling between his hands. Bulma watched as he crouched before her, bringing the sponge down to her left calf. Bulma's breath hitched when his head came eye-level with her most intimate area, but to her astonishment, he didn't even glance at it. Vegeta meticulously moved the loofah over her leg, his hands steady. As he moved to her other leg, Bulma wondered if this attentiveness was something deeply ingrained in Saiyan instinct, an unspoken drive to care for one's partner after such an intimate connection.
Vegeta set the loofa aside when he finished with her legs and reached for the soap again. Bulma's heart began to race as she watched him lather his hands, his expression focused. Then, without hesitation, Vegeta's hand moved between her legs, his soapy fingers sliding over her most sensitive spot.
A deep, breathy moan escaped her lips, her body shuddering under his touch. The sensations were electrifying, yet his movements remained controlled, almost clinical. Vegeta was thorough, ensuring every inch of her was clean, but his demeanor betrayed no hint of indulgence. Apparently satisfied with his work, he turned her around once more, his hands gliding over the curve of her back and down to her hips as he lathered her skin with the same care. She could feel the water rinsing away the soap as he worked, leaving her clean and lingering from the heat of his touch.
When he was done, Vegeta pulled her gently back under the warm spray of water. His touch was almost reverent as he used his hands to rinse the remaining soap from her body, his fingers moving over her with surprising tenderness. Once she was completely soap-free, Bulma stepped back slightly and reached for the soap and loofah. She wanted to repay him, to show him the same care he'd given her. But before she could begin, Vegeta caught her wrist and shook his head.
"No," he said, his voice low and firm, though not unkind. "You don't need to."
Bulma froze for a moment, her lips parting as if to argue, but something in his face silenced her. Instead, she let the soap slip from her fingers and into his outstretched hand.
They stood under the shower spray, staring into each other's eyes; then, without warning, Vegeta closed the distance and placed his lips upon hers. Surprised, Bulma gasped before immediately relenting and wrapped her arms around his neck, melting her body into his. The water cascaded over them as they stood together in the steam-filled shower. The kiss wasn't long, but it was enough to leave her breathless.
Bulma watched quietly as Vegeta stepped out from under the showerhead and turned his attention to his own body, soaping up with efficient, mechanical movements. She couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he washed himself off so quickly, clearly more focused on the task than savoring the moment. The spray of the water rinsed the suds from his hard frame in seconds, and then with a twist of the knob, the water was off.
Before she could even reach for a towel, Vegeta grabbed one and turned to her, his dark eyes scanning her from head to toe. She started to protest as he began drying her off, his hands moving over her damp skin with practiced care.
"Vegeta, I can—"
"Stop moving," he ordered quietly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Bulma huffed but complied, allowing him to continue. His touch was firm yet very gentle. He didn't miss a single inch, even crouching to dry her legs and feet before standing again to finish with her hair. The intimacy of the gesture left her oddly flustered. She was thoroughly dry and flustered by the time he was done.
When it was his turn, Vegeta toweled himself off quickly, his movements efficient, almost impatient. Bulma wrapped her arms around herself, still processing the surprising tenderness he'd shown when he gestured for her to follow.
Back in her room, Bulma hesitated, expecting him to retreat to his usual aloofness. But to her astonishment, Vegeta strode directly to her bed and climbed in without a word. He pulled the blanket back and settled comfortably, lying on his side as if he belonged there.
For a moment, she simply stood there, blinking in disbelief. Then, with a slight smile tugging at her lips, she joined him, slipping under the covers. She nestled close to him. As she adjusted the pillow, Vegeta reached out, taking the edge of the blanket to tuck it around them. Bulma's eyes fluttered closed as she let out a contented sigh. She didn't think the night could get any better.
But then, Vegeta moved, his arm snaking out around her waist, pulling her entirely against his naked body. Her breath caught as his warmth enveloped her completely, and the steady rhythm of his breathing soothed her like a lullaby.
A soft, blissful smile curved her lips. She'd been wrong—tonight could get better. And as Vegeta held her close, Bulma realized she never wanted this moment to end.