.::FOURTEEN::.

Bulma's entire body trembled as she balanced herself on all fours, her muscles taut with tension. Vegeta stood behind her, the weight of his silent presence pressing down on her like a physical force. The room was unnervingly quiet, broken only by the sound of their labored breaths. She was completely naked, her legs parted in a vulnerable position, fully aware that her most intimate area was on display for Vegeta.

Despite her usual confidence in her body, something about this moment left her feeling exposed in a way she wasn't used to. But it wasn't just the nudity; it was his silence, the way she could feel his gaze burning into her. The seconds ticked by, heavy with the unspoken tension, and Bulma's chest tightened with a strange, unfamiliar sense of self-consciousness.

She could practically feel his eyes roaming over her, taking in every detail of her exposed form. The scrutiny was unbearable. Unable to withstand the suffocating silence or the weight of his attention any longer, she shifted uncomfortably, bringing her legs closer together to shield herself from his view.

But before she could fully close herself off, his hand moved swiftly, his fingers touching her bare hip with gentleness.

"No." Vegeta's voice was low and rough.

Bulma's eyes flew open, her breath hitching as she felt Vegeta's rough hand slowly slide down over her hip, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. Her hands gripped the blanket beneath her, fingers tightening involuntarily as the tension between them mounted. His fingers gently curled around her thigh, sending a shiver up her spine, and with a soft but firm tug, he coaxed her legs back open, leaving her fully exposed to him once more. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat as she heard the rustle of fabric behind her. He was undressing. Bulma tensed.

The next second, she felt something warm and hard press against her already wet entrance, the intensity of the moment stealing the air from her lungs.

xXx

Vegeta's breath left him in a ragged exhale the moment his cock brushed against her core. She was warm. Oh, so warm, and the sensation sent a wave of heat through his body, tightening every muscle with restraint. He could barely stand it—this need, this hunger gnawing at his insides.

It would be so easy to hold her hips, to thrust forward and bury himself inside her. Fully claim her in one swift, primal motion. The thought surged through him, but he forced himself to hold back, his body trembling with the effort. His length remained poised at her opening, unwilling to push further.

Vegeta's eyes drifted downward again, his gaze fixated on the contrast between his thick, rigid length and the softness of her small frame. Doubt crept in—could she even take him? The size difference was staggering, and though he had imagined this moment in fleeting, guilty thoughts, he had never genuinely planned for it to happen in real life.

But here they were.

He hadn't wanted it to come to this. For months, he had fought against the growing desire, the primal need that had slowly consumed him. And now, staring down at her, the urge was almost unbearable. His breaths came deep and labored as he finally decided on what he was going to do.

Vegeta's dark, intense gaze swept over the woman before him—Bulma. Her body trembled with anticipation before him. Vegeta's hands slowly gripped her slender hips, and when he touched her, a soft moan escaped her lips. The sound was unlike anything he'd ever heard before—raw, sensual, and completely irresistible. It sent another surge of heat through his body, and his cock twitched involuntarily against the slick heat of her entrance. Another moan escaped from her, this time lower, more guttural, and he could feel her entire body shudder beneath his touch as her elbows gave out from underneath her and her head sank onto the bed. Her back arched in a perfect curve, her ass raised and pressed enticingly against the tip of his cock. She spread her legs wider of her own volition, offering herself entirely to him.

"Take me, Vegeta," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation and desire as she pushed back against him, guiding his head just inside her wet, welcoming heat.

Her movement was slow, deliberate, as she eased herself back off him just enough to tease, then slid back down, taking more of him in, little by little. The tightness of her body around him made his blood race, his muscles tense as he tried to maintain control.

"Fuck, woman!" Vegeta growled, his voice strained as he fought against the primal urge to thrust hard into her.

His grip tightened instinctively on her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he tried to steady her, to stop her from driving him wild. But Bulma was relentless, her body rolling against him, taking him deeper with every subtle movement. She was testing his restraint, and it was failing.

"Fuck me, Vegeta," Bulma groaned, her voice thick with need as she pushed herself up on her trembling elbows.

She managed just enough leverage to turn her head, locking eyes with him over her shoulder. He swallowed. Her gaze fiery, daring him to take control. What she did next made Vegeta's eyes widen in disbelief—she rolled her eyes at him. The audacity of the woman!

xXx

Bulma saw the shock in his expression, and her smile grew wider as she turned her face back toward the bed and fell forward again, gripping the comforter beneath her fingers. She knew she had pushed him just far enough. She felt the anticipation swirl through her body, the heated tension tightening every nerve as she waited to see how he'd react.

And finally, he did.

Without warning, Vegeta thrust inside her, hard and fast, his control finally snapping. The sensation of him stretching her open was sharp, almost overwhelming, but she reveled in it. The sting only lasted a moment before it gave way to an intoxicating fullness. He pulled back, and the moment he pushed in again, they both groaned, their voices harmonizing in a blend of raw pleasure.

Each push buried him further inside her until finally, with a deep, guttural groan, he slammed into her fully, his hips pressed firmly against her backside. His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her skin as his breathing came out in hard, ragged bursts as he held her against him. Bulma arched her back, opening herself even more for him.

"Yeah!" she cried out, her voice loud and shameless, thankful they were alone in the house.

"Yeah?" Vegeta grunted, his voice so low and primal it was almost unrecognizable.

"Yeah..." she moaned.

Then he began, his control gone as he began to fuck her in earnest. His control slipped with each savage thrust, his body moving in a rhythm that was pure instinct.

"Fuck yeah, Vegeta!" she yelled in response, her body quaking as he took her unrelentingly.

His hips slammed into hers with raw force. The wet slap of their bodies echoed in the room as he drove in and out of her, fast and mercilessly. Each thrust sent a wave of heat that rolled through her until she could hardly think.

Pleasure surged through Bulma's body, intensifying with every powerful thrust from Vegeta. The primal growls he made sent shivers down her spine as he gripped her hips tightly; his hard solid cock drove into her relentlessly. Each movement was precise, in and out, over and over again, building an unstoppable rhythm that pushed her closer to the edge of release. She could feel her body rising, teetering on the brink of climax already.

As Vegeta's pace quickened, his grip on her hips loosened, and then he leaned down, caging her beneath him with his muscular arms on either side of her head. His breathing had changed, becoming shallow and ragged, and Bulma could tell he was close, too. Instinctively, she reached out and grasped his wrist, unsure of how he'd react to her touch. To her surprise, he didn't pull away. She tightened her hold, her need for release overwhelming. Her orgasm was right there—hovering at the edge, just waiting to be set free.

"Oh, Vegeta!" she moaned, her voice filled with desperate pleasure, as her body gave in, sending her spiraling over the edge and into a powerful orgasm.

Vegeta let out a loud guttural roar that echoed throughout the room, shaking the walls. In one swift motion, he rose, pulling her with him. Her knees were still on the bed while her upper body was lifted into his strong embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around her naked torso, his head buried in the crook of her neck as he continued to pound into her deeper. Harder. Each thrust seemed to take her higher. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed her, and together, they were lost in a primal, all-consuming pleasure that seemed to have no end.

As Vegeta's breath came out in deep, ragged rasps, each exhale sent shivers through Bulma's body. She arched her back into him, surrendering fully to the orgasm that tore through her, unlike anything she had ever experienced—her entire body convulsed uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She moaned loudly, unable to contain the sound, while Vegeta continued driving into her, hitting that perfect spot with each powerful thrust. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her firmly against his solid, muscular body as she rode out the intense climax.

Her world blurred in the rush of sensation, but then Vegeta's movement began to change. His pace quickened to an incomprehensible speed, and she could feel the tension building in him. His body stiffened, and after one last deep thrust, he growled next to her ear as he finally came—a deep, guttural sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against her skin.

For a brief moment, that sound filled her with a flicker of fear, but it vanished as quickly as it came. As his body shuddered inside of her, she realized that despite his overwhelming strength, he was holding her with unexpected gentleness. His touch held a surprising tenderness that she had never imagined the Saiyan was capable of.

As that thought registered in her mind, Bulma found herself swept up in another wave of pleasure. The feeling of Vegeta's cock convulsing inside her sent a renewed rush of bliss through her, and for a moment, it seemed she might come again. But as Vegeta's grip loosened and he finally withdrew from her, the sensation faded, leaving her spent but utterly content. With a blissful sigh, Bulma let herself collapse onto the bed, her body limp with satisfaction, her mind awash in the lingering afterglow of their shared passion.

After a moment to collect herself, Bulma slowly crawled across the bed, feeling the coolness of the sheets beneath her skin as she settled down on the other side. She was about to reach over and pat the empty space next to her, a silent invitation for him to join her in sleep, but when she turned to look, Vegeta was already gone.

She laughed, and as she did, she felt the unmistakable sensation of cum spilling from between her legs, warm and slick. The laughter faded and was replaced by a deep, lingering silence as she lay on her back, her eyes tracing the contours of the ceiling. Her mind swirled, struggling to process what had just happened.

Vegeta.

She had just had sex with Vegeta. And it wasn't just sex—it was the best orgasm she'd ever had. Bulma could hardly wrap her mind around the intensity of it, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Her pulse quickened again as she replayed their encounter. Bulma had orgasmed harder than she ever had before, without even needing to touch herself, something she had always had to do with Yamcha if she wanted to finish before him. But this time—this time, she had been brought to climax purely by the rhythm and force of him inside her.

Turning her head, she gazed out the window, the cool moonlight casting pale shadows across the room. Everything felt surreal, almost dreamlike. Could this really be her life now? The trajectory of her existence had shifted in a way she never saw coming. Then, a quiet question floated through her mind: Would he want more?

Or, perhaps, the better question was: Would she let him?

If he came to her again, as he had tonight... Her heart thudded softly in her chest as the answer came to her with startling clarity.

Yes. Yes, she would.

A little while later, after Bulma had taken a quick, warm shower to wash away the lingering evidence of her time with Vegeta, she slipped beneath the comforting weight of her soft blankets. Her body was relaxed, a delicious warmth still thrumming through her limbs from their earlier encounter. Every muscle felt loose, and her mind, usually racing with thoughts, was blissfully quiet as she basked in the lazy, hazy afterglow of great sex.

She stretched out lazily as she sighed, content. She yawned, her eyes feeling heavy. Sleep was pulling her under, each breath slower than the last, until her phone suddenly rang, shattering the tranquility.

Without thinking, her hand instinctively reached over to the nightstand, blindly fumbling for the phone. She answered it without even looking at the name, her voice mellow and half-asleep.

"Yeah?"

"Bulma, it's Yamcha."

Her eyes snapped open, her heart giving a small jolt at the sound of his voice. She hadn't expected to hear from him, especially not now. Not tonight after what had just happened between her and the Saiyan. She swallowed the dry lump in her throat. She was too stunned to respond for a second, blinking at the dark ceiling as her mind scrambled to catch up.

She glanced at the clock, shocked to see that it was just after eleven. Somehow, Bulma had been convinced it was closer to four in the morning, given how utterly tired she felt.

"Yamcha? Is everything okay?" Bulma asked with a yawn, her voice laced with mild concern when the silence on the other end dragged on longer than expected.

She was half-expecting an apology or some awkward explanation about the end of their relationship.

"Uh, yeah," he responded, his tone uncertain. "Sorry for calling too late; I figured you'd be up. I wondered if you saw that we won the championship last week."

Bulma hadn't been paying attention to the news, especially not Yamcha's baseball victories, but she let him continue without speaking. She knew he'd reach the point eventually.

"Well, now that we have some time off from practicing and everything," he said, his voice trailing slightly. "I've been thinking more about the androids and what that kid from the future explained to Goku."

Bulma rolled her eyes, not in the mood to think about those impending androids. Her mind was still lingering in the post-pleasure haze, and hearing Yamcha talk about dire warnings from the future was not how she had envisioned her night ending.

"Okay…" she replied, her tone neutral as she shifted onto her back.

Bulma rolled her eyes in mild frustration. She tried to focus, but her mind drifted back to Vegeta and the feel of his hands on her skin. She forced herself to pay attention as Yamcha's voice drifted through the receiver, his voice laced with hesitation.

"Well," he began, then paused awkwardly. "I was wondering if I could start coming over to use some of Capsule Corporation's training equipment. You know, to prepare for the androids? I don't want to slack off."

Bulma blinked, torn between amusement and annoyance. Of course, tonight, Yamcha decided to call and ask about this now. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

"Right…" she said. "Sure. Why not?"

Bulma exhaled sharply. Hoping this wouldn't be a mistake.

And as if immediately picking up on what she was thinking, he said, "Look, I'm not trying to use this as some lame excuse to worm my way back into your life." Yamcha's voice was quick, almost pleading. "I swear, Bulma. I would just like to use your gym and some of the equipment. The locker rooms at the stadium will be shutdown for the season."

Bulma closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she let the request simmer in her mind. The favor itself wasn't a big deal, but it was far from simple now.

"What about Vegeta?" she asked, her voice firm.

She knew all too well the volatile dynamic between the two men, and the last thing she needed was them butting heads under her roof.

"I'm not going to have you over here if you're just going to start picking fights with him every time you run into each other," she told him.

Yamcha let out a heavy breath, almost as if he had expected that response.

"Bulma, I'm not going to pick a fight. Trust me. If anyone's going to stir things up, it'll be him, not me."

She paused for a beat, then shrugged, too tired to overthink the situation.

"Fine, Yamcha," she sighed, stifling a yawn. "You can come use the gym. But only during the day, got it?"

She was ready to put this conversation behind her and sleep.

"Thank you. I mean it." His voice carried a sincerity that she'd never heard from him.

"You're welcome," she replied, stifling another yawn as sleep tugged at her.

"Get some sleep, Bulma. And, uh, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to come by early in the morning. Is that alright?"

His words stirred something in her. He sounded so much like his younger self. She couldn't help but have a slight smile tug at her lips as her heart ached with the weight of all the memories they shared.

"Sure, Yamcha. That's okay," she whispered, her voice softening as a flood of unspoken emotions swirled within her while tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"Thanks again, Bulma. I'll use my key."

"Okay." She rolled onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest.

The phone felt warm in her hand, a lifeline she wasn't sure she was ready to let go of just yet. But he decided for her.

"Goodnight, Bulma," he said softly, the way he used to.

"Goodnight."

When the line went dead, Bulma's phone slipped from her hand and hit the bed. She turned her face into a pillow and cried.

xXx

Vegeta was midway through his third set of pushups, sweat beading on his forehead, when a faint tingling of awareness cut through his concentration. Someone had crossed onto the grounds. His instincts sharpened as he focused, honing in on the energy signature. The moment he realized who it was, a surge of fury erupted inside him, so intense it nearly mirrored the burning hatred he had once reserved for Frieza. It felt like molten lava had been poured into his veins, igniting every nerve.

In a flash, Vegeta was at one of the rounded windows of the gravity chamber, his heart pounding with rage. What he saw made his blood boil. It was Yamcha—the weak human who dared show his face here again—and he was opening the front door and letting himself into the house as if he belonged there. A low growl rumbled in Vegeta's throat. His vision blurred, consumed by red-hot anger.

Without realizing it, his dark energy began to pour out of him, pulsing like a storm. The metal walls of the chamber groaned in protest under the weight of his power, creaking ominously as if on the verge of collapse. The floor trembled beneath his feet, and even the gravity he had maxed out moments earlier seemed to falter, growing lighter as his energy spiraled out of control.

Vegeta clenched his fists, his teeth grinding together as he fought the nearly irresistible urge to storm out of the chamber and kill the human on the spot. He imagined tearing the human limb from limb, watching the life drain from his eyes, savoring every second of it. His body trembled with the desire for violence, his Saiyan blood screaming for release.

But he held back, forcing himself to stay rooted in place. As much as he craved to end that weakling, something stopped him. Instead, he stood there, seething, his fury bubbling dangerously beneath the surface.

Vegeta inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to the brim before exhaling through his nose in a sharp, controlled release. He needed to rein in the storm of emotions raging inside him, but it wasn't easy. The more he thought about where this blinding anger stemmed from, the more disgusted he felt. It made him want to drive his fists into the nearest wall to punish himself for weakness.

A wave of shame washed over him, sticking to his skin like grime he couldn't scrub off. He cursed himself, feeling pathetic. He had let himself fall victim to primal urges. He'd been reckless, letting his emotions and instincts rule him. The moment he'd stepped over the threshold of her room the night before, every shred of logic had evaporated. He's stopped thinking entirely, driven by something raw and uncontrollable.

Vegeta spat on the floor of the gravity chamber, the bitter taste of last night lingering in his mouth. He tried to rid himself of the thoughts that had plagued him since then, but it was like trying to outrun a shadow. His senses told him Bulma was still asleep in her room, and the human male was down in the laboratory. The fact that he felt a small bit of relief unnerved him.

What was the human doing here, exactly? Had she called him? Contacted him after they… Vegeta swallowed hard, and then, an unwelcome thought crept into his mind—something he had never considered in all his years of existence.

Had he been… inadequate?

Was that why she had called the human? To wait for her, to be there when she woke up? The questions gnawed at him, a foreign feeling of insecurity twisting in his chest, and for the first time in his life, Vegeta found himself doubting whether he had been enough.

Without thinking, Vegeta left the confines of the gravity chamber and descended the staircase toward the laboratory. The weight of his thought pressed down on him, but it was almost as if his body was acting independently, driven by some primal urge to confront the situation head-on. Just as he reached the bottom of the steps, however, his mind caught up with his actions, and he abruptly halted mid-step, blinking as the reality of the moment settled in.

Before he could even consider turning back and retreating into the sanctuary of the gravity chamber, a figure rounded the corner, drawing his attention. The human male climbed the stairs with a bag slung over his shoulder. The instant their eyes met, the human halted his ascent, a surprise etched across his features. A frown tugged at his lips, taken aback by Vegeta's unexpected presence.

"What are you doing here?" Vegeta found himself asking, the words slipping out before he could rein in his irritation.

"I'm here to train," Yamcha replied, a hint of defiance in his voice.

Vegeta let out a derisive huff and laughed with disdain. "Training for what?"

He couldn't help but feel a swell of amusement at the human; the absurdity was almost laughable.

"The androids!" he exclaimed.

"You'll just get in the way," Vegeta stated matter-of-factly, crossing his arms and letting a scowl form deep on his face.

"Well, I'm training anyway," the human insisted, his determination flickering like a candle in the wind. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

With that, he continued heading up the stairs past Vegeta.

Vegeta stood there momentarily, a storm of emotions swirling within him. Part of him wanted to shove the human aside and declare that no one could train in his domain without permission, but he refrained, keeping his mouth shut.

Vegeta allowed the male to continue his ascent up the stairs; his gaze locked onto the Saiyan with an intensity that only fueled his simmering rage. Every step the human took felt like a taunt, a reminder of the annoyance that had become all too familiar. It took every ounce of restraint for Vegeta not to unleash his fury and throw a punch that would send the male crashing back down the stairs.

But as much as he craved the release of violence, he held himself in check, knowing that such an outburst would likely wake the woman. The last thing he wanted was for her to witness the spectacle of him losing control on this weak human male.

As he thought about it, Vegeta didn't want to see her again at all. He wanted to erase her from his thoughts, to banish her presence from his mind. She was like a bad dream. As he stood there, his heart was a battleground of conflicting emotions. He only had a few bots left in the gravity chamber, but repairs to the others could wait.

Vegeta would wait until her father returned home. When that time came, he would pester him with a request to fix the bots, just like he had done during the first week of his arrival. If her father couldn't attend to it immediately, more employees would be around to help repair them.

His mind churned as he remained rooted on the stairs, watching the human male as he finally disappeared from view and headed back up into the main house. Anger and frustration stirred within him, but he buried those emotions deep, knowing that this wasn't the time or place to confront the stupid human male.

Without another word, Vegeta turned and retreated inside the gravity chamber.

AN: The next 'scenes' will be longer, I promise!