It took me longer than expected (virus season with young children requires...) but I finally got there! This chapter is FINALLY here!

I should warn you guys, if you're not into lemons, I suggest you skip it. ;)

And for those who leave comments; thank you so much! You are the best to keep me motivated :D

Enjoy xx

Chapter 28 – Bulma

When she got out of the shower a few moments earlier, Bulma had immediately been dazzled by the moon, which shone so brightly outside the ship that she had to squint her eyes to give her pupils time to adjust. She had never had the opportunity to witness such a spectacle, the enormous white orb being so close to the ship that she couldn't even see it in its entirety. The young woman had allowed herself to admire it a little, savoring the softness of its rays in the darkness of the room, before going to the flame-shaped hair man who had sat in front of the window to indulge in the same exercise.

The initial dazzle had however quickly been replaced by a justified fear when Bulma's eyes had settled on Vegeta's tail, which was undulating lazily towards the ground. If the Saiyan looked at the moon, wasn't there a risk of him transforming? She had witnessed the phenomenon on Earth, with Goku, and she had quickly concluded that it was better to stay away from a Saiyan who was doing so.

The scientist's critical thinking had however quickly dismissed the hint of panic that had reared her mind. No. It was impossible. Frieza wasn't that stupid. He would never let three specimens like Vegeta, Raditz and Nappa wander freely in his more than amply windowed ship without taking the necessary precautions. The glass had to be one specially designed to avoid such a catastrophe.

A hypothesis immediately verified by Bulma when she saw Vegeta's black eyes serenely fixed on the moon, without creating any turmoil.

Reassured, she had therefore let herself be carried away by the perverse thoughts that had been going round in her head for days and had quickly found herself in the arms of her prince.

Questions had however quickly resurfaced during the discussion they had about the Dragon Balls. Because apparently, even if the fur did not cover his back and his canines were not growing longer, the effects of the moon were not completely absent.

Vegeta was different.

Whether it was that whitish, almost ghostly glow that illuminated his dark eyes. Whether it was the calmer, almost serene attitude that transpired from him, when he was usually impetuous and fiery. Whether it was that strong heat his body gave off, so intense that she could even see it radiating from his skin. Whether it was the brown fur undulating on his tail. Or that strange fascination with which he contemplated her, just after he asked to look at her under the moonlight.

Vegeta was under the influence of the rock shining brightly behind them, and it was all these things that indicated to Bulma the Saiyan was bewitched.

Bewitched, certainly, but not let's-turn-into-a-huge-deranged-monkey either. Anything to arouse the slightly perverse curiosity of a young woman ruled by her hormones.

Especially since the situation reminded her of a number of conversations she had with Chi-Chi. In the past, her friend had often assured her that even if he had lost his tail and his ability to transform, Goku was still affected by the presence of the moon, especially when it was at the peak of its cycle. According to her, her companion was becoming more impulsive, more impatient, more passionate. These character traits were reflected in his combat style, Goku apparently being more aggressive and even sometimes unmanageable when he was fighting... but also under the sheets. In fact, Chi-Chi had explained to her that full moon nights were by far the wildest, and that Goku, generally not very inclined to this kind of activity, was becoming rather insatiable. This topic had always amused Bulma a lot, but being not very fond of the details of the guy she considered a brother's private life, her curiosity stopped there.

With Vegeta, however, it was different. Vegeta was a handsome stranger with lots of prominent muscles, a virile stature and a dark past. Bulma burned to know, to feel, to taste what a Saiyan possessed by the intriguing power of the moon could offer her.

But there she was. Waiting for something to happen. The seconds ticking by. Slowly.

And she was growing very much impatient.

It had been almost a minute since Vegeta had violently pinned her against that window. It had been almost a minute since they had stopped kissing, and that he had frozen to look at her. Their bodies were nailed to each other, motionless, suspended somewhere in this enemy ship, somewhere in space and time, with the Earth and the Moon as the only spectators, whose soft soothing light made a hymn to their union. The only perceptible movements were those of Bulma's chest rising and falling to the chaotic rhythm of her breathing. Vegeta's eyes were moving too, with much more subtlety. Bulma could discern those small, jerky, precise, almost robotic movements that the Saiyan's pupils were making, contracting and dilating with much more fluidity than those of a human, in an attempt to capture what her own eyes could not see. Curiosity was devouring her. She would have liked to know what was catching his attention so much. She would have liked to ask him why he had interrupted their kiss to start looking at her with such fascination. She had so many questions to ask him, in order to better understand this impromptu attitude he had just adopted.

But interrupting the moment, so unique, so indescribable, so precious, seemed ill-advised to her, and speaking seemed forbidden.

So, Bulma tried to keep quiet. And not move too much. Even if she was dying to do so.

Because Kami... oh Kami... it wasn't just this immoderate exercise of contemplation that was afflicting her.

There was this heat too.

This heat that he gave off. Heady, suffocating, almost unbearable. This heat that made her want to wriggle in all directions to remove the only clothing she was wearing, to beg him to put out this fire that was burning within her and to melt into him until they made one.

She was there, between Vegeta's powerful arms. And he was hot. He was boiling. He was radiating. Literally. Because she could see these thermal ripples emanating lazily from his skin to warm the air surrounding them. Waves of heat that rose to her head and that posed a serious threat to her sanity. Surrounded by his burning skin and enveloped by the blaze of his gaze, Bulma quickly found herself dissatisfied with this interminable and overwhelming passivity. If he didn't take action soon, she would probably end up consumed on the spot and turn this room into her own pyre.

Despite all her will to maintain a static state, Bulma's physical abilities soon got the better of her. Her breathing, jerky and labored, called Vegeta's vigilance, who promptly came out of his trance. He became aware of the sweat beginning to bead on the woman's forehead, as well as her cheekbones that had turned red. A low groan escaped him, and almost immediately, his body temperature dropped by several degrees. Bulma watched with regret as the thermal ripples dissipated, while a cooler, more breathable aura began to form around them. To her surprise, the sensation, although relieving, was deeply unpleasant. She was on the verge of bursting into flames, but that didn't change the fact that she wanted more of this intoxicating heat.

She opened her mouth to protest, but Vegeta cut her complaint off before it could even be said. With a fluid and taming gesture, he placed his palm in the hollow of her neck. Bulma shivered as she felt the burn of his hand on her fragile skin. Even if he was no longer radiating, his body was still much warmer than hers. The comfort that the sensation gave her made her sigh, and the Saiyan caught the air that had escaped from her lungs between his lips. Then, gently, he brought her face closer to place a light kiss on her mouth, much more contained than the previous ones. The woman felt her eyelids grow heavy. His lips had also become of fire, just like his hand. She closed her eyes and enjoyed with delight this feverish touch that contrasted in every way possible with the kiss they had exchanged on the chair. Vegeta pulled away a little, then kissed her again with the same acrimony. This time Bulma savored the wave of pleasure that pierced her insides, while the prince repeated the gesture a third time with an even more suave and tender kiss than the two previous ones. Unlike the others however, this one was followed by a small scratch on her lower lip, graced by the Saiyan's sharp incisors and canines who growled his own pleasure against her mouth.

The kisses, slow, simple, sweet, tore a moan from Bulma.

Ohhh… Kami.

And there she was again. With a simple caress on the tip of her lips, there she was, tipping over into this galvanizing confusion that burned her body and her brain. If Bulma had already been close to the infernal abyss in Vegeta's presence, she was sinking into it at hundreds of kilometers per hour now.

She would never have believed that someone as impudent as him could kiss her with such modesty. It seemed impossible to her that someone so vile, so violent, so vulgar, could show so much concern towards her. Yet it was indeed the reality, and it was this dichotomy that made the situation so exciting. The slowness, the gentleness with which the bloodthirsty warrior caressed her was a praise to his discipline, as well as to his consideration for the woman he held in his arms. Bulma was innocent and fragile. Vegeta was a dangerous man. A walking weapon who didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. She knew he felt no remorse about hurting, assaulting, or torturing. He was part of Frieza's army after all, and she was a captive on this ship. He could use his strength if he wanted and render their current encounter much less enjoyable without any real consequences. But he didn't. And rather than being the inconsiderate brute he appeared to be, rather than letting himself be guided by his bestial and aggressive instincts, he cautiously worshiped this innocence and fragility he had in his hands.

Which was torture itself. Because the slowness with which he kissed her made her infinitely languish.

Their mouths barely separated by an inch, Bulma pretended to lean in to initiate a fourth kiss that would lead them back to passion. But Vegeta stopped her. Quick as lightning, the hand on her neck closed and he firmly grip the hair at her nape. The woman was forced to immobilize her head, and she arched her back with frustration when she saw that he was refusing this much-desired kiss. Her reaction made Vegeta smile. He took pleasure in seeing the impatience light up her blue eyes.

The prince, his unhealthy greed for control awakened by Bulma's remonstrance, then committed to prolonging this little torture. Gently but surely, he pulled on her hair to make her head tilt back. The maneuver was intended to make the flesh of her neck vulnerable, and it immediately transformed into a target for the Saiyan's teeth. The bite, perpetrated under her jaw, tore a small cry from the woman. The sensation was distressing. But the pain was not the source of her interjection. It was rather this striking contrast between softness and robustness that had made her whimper. And even if Vegeta's teeth had sunk a little deeper than usual during such frolics, the feeling it generated was sufficiently graceful to erase the violence.

Aware of the pain he had just inflicted on her, the prince unclenched his jaw to reduce the pressure of the ivory on her skin, transforming the bite into a simple scratch, then into a throbbing caress with his lips. His tongue lazily slid outside his mouth, and he licked the skin pulsating above the wild rhythm of her heartbeat. Bulma's muscles quickly went from tense to relaxed. Her entire body softened under the sensation of Vegeta's mouth against her neck. She might as well have liquefied on the spot she wouldn't have been surprised. The Saiyan immediately felt the effect on his partner. He tried to revive the sensation and bit her a second time, just a little lower. Bulma tensed again as she felt her lover's teeth sink even more firmly into her skin and welcomed with ecstasy the deep and languorous kiss that followed. Confusion took over her, the pain part of her brain being momentarily solicited with the same intensity as the pleasure part. She wriggled in all directions again, moaning, wanting to get away from the danger that Vegeta's jaw represented while giving herself over to the passion of his mouth. He responded by joining his body powerfully against hers to prevent her from moving. Bulma felt her back press forcefully against the window while the prince's broad torso crushed against her voluminous breasts. His narrow pelvis lodged itself between her thighs, and he willingly pressed his protruding erection against her entrance. The woman took a short breath at the feeling of him being so hard against her, and inwardly, she cursed those damned training shorts that were a barrier to their union.

Bulma's past lovemaking experiences had always led her to believe in the importance of long and passionate foreplay. But here, with Vegeta... it was different. Very different.

She wanted to get to the point. She wanted him inside her. Now.

"Vegeta…" Bulma squealed, rocking her hips to rub herself against him.

For too long, she had stagnated, consumed by a desire perpetually fueled by an unusual attraction and a few random encounters that had gone wrong. It had been less than five minutes since they had physically found each other. But her fantasies had been haunting her long before she entered his room.

To hell with foreplay. They waited long enough.

The young woman hoped that the message she was trying to convey with her voice and body was well understood; Vegeta had better take off those fucking shorts, and fast. Fortunately, the Saiyan's keen senses were on the lookout. He easily perceived Bulma's eagerness, and since he was subject to a similar lust, she didn't need more to convince him to do something about it.

The support that Vegeta's hand provided under Bulma's buttocks had become futile since he had crushed her against the window. He took off his hand from her to pull on his short's elastic with his fingers and thus free his dick from its fabric prison. The woman shuddered with anticipation. Knowing that he was so close to her entrance made her wet like never before. She looked down in the hope of getting a glimpse of what was about to be inserted between her thighs. She burned to see the Saiyan in his entirety, to touch him, to discover him, and to worship him in his splendid, undeniable virility.

But the situation was not suitable to such a feast. A greater need was being felt, a need present since their very first meeting, which had to be satisfied before anything else.

"Look at me" Vegeta demanded roughly, pinching her chin with his fingers to raise her head.

Bulma obeyed. She plunged her eyes into his onyx ones without hesitation. The moon glowing behind them allowed her to see the Saiyan's pupils contract distinctly when she did so and for a brief moment, the young woman swore she saw a purple flash shining across its darkness.

The Saiyan was completely still, the weight of his intimidating gaze taking her breath away. He had regained that fascination look he had displayed a few moments earlier. Seeing him so contemplative again raised the fear that he would leave her unsatisfied. At this point, Bulma wasn't sure she would be able to tolerate his cruel impassivity. No matter what captivated his alien senses, nothing, absolutely nothing could excuse him from making her wait even longer. Fortunately for her, Vegeta hadn't completely lost himself in the confines of adulation. This time, he was aware enough of the situation not to make her stagnate any further.

Slowly, very slowly, his eyes drowned the blue of hers, he placed his burning hand on her hip, and he made her body go down on him.

Bulma took a sharp breath when she felt the tip of his penis touch her sensitive flesh. A glimmer of excitement shone in Vegeta's black eyes when he realised how soaked she already was. Encouraged by her apparent receptivity, he pushed inside her and entered only a few centimeters deep. He easily carved out a place in her insides and the intrusion, as minimal as it was, immediately awakened a wave of pleasure in Bulma's abdomen. She tensed up when this wave spread to the tips of her toes, which curled like an animal subjected to a particularly violent assault. She dug her knees into the Saiyan's sides, a pathetic attempt to contain the arousal that was already threatening to make her explode.

Slowly, gradually, and most importantly without taking his eyes off her, Vegeta thrusted a bit more between her thighs. A second wave washed over her and this time the young woman had no choice but to arch her back under the powerful impulse. Instinctively, she closed her eyes and limply tilted her head back, sighing her pleasure, finally releasing the air she had been holding in her chest since she had found herself with her back to the window.

But as soon as she exhaled, Vegeta stopped the movement of his hips. At the same time, he pulled on her chin with his fingers to bring her face back to his.

"Look at me" he repeated with authority.

Bulma, despite her bad temper and aversion to orders, would have been crazy to resist such a request. She nodded subtly, aware that if she didn't do what he demanded of her, he would withdraw and let her die on the spot, asphyxiated by lust. She complied without a word and the clear water of her irises was quickly drowned in the infinite abysses of his eyes. Satisfied, the Saiyan gently pressed her chin between his fingers as a sign of approval and he resumed his slow progression to reward her obedience.

Vegeta began to push inside her again, easily, assuredly, deeper and deeper. The sensation of his erection stretching her walls initiated a new round of shivers that tickled her abdomen, and Bulma bit the inside of her cheek upon realizing that he was much wider than what she was used to. Unable to stay still, the woman gave herself up to him completely. She clung to his focused gaze, an unwavering anchor through this ocean of pleasure, and let herself be carried by the arms that held her and the body that penetrated her. Her breathing, completely disordered, had become a perfect reflection of the inner chaos that was surging over her as the Saiyan filled her. Every inch of him was a pure delight that would propel her directly towards satiety. Never before had a man managed to fill her like this. Mentally, and physically too. And after a while, Bulma seriously questioned her ability to accept him in his entirety.

Then, finally, the Saiyan stopped completely. Luckily, he had reached his peak at the same time as she had reached her limit. The young woman told herself that this was yet another proof of their complementarity. In Vegeta's arms, she felt good. She was exactly where she needed to be, and even if she had several times doubted the morality of spreading her legs for the enemy, damn, it felt good, and it felt right.

The prince seemed to realize this too. Through his unwavering discipline, a groan escaped his throat. A sound, like a note stolen from a carefully orchestrated melody, so subtle that Bulma wondered if she hadn't imagined it. Because aside from this small manifestation of pleasure that the comfort of her body had torn from him, Vegeta couldn't have been more stoic. He was scrutinizing her attentively, focused, alert, his mind still captivated by something she didn't see and didn't understand. He should have been feverish. He should have been in a hurry to corner her against the window with powerful thrusts of his hips. He should have been fucking her, fast, and hard. But no. Rather than making her lose her mind with his prowess, there was this inactivity, this passivity, this indecipherable attitude that was driving her crazy and making them stagnate, again.

Bulma, excited, confused, and frustrated, began to pant violently against Vegeta's chest. She was choking, she was suffocating, oppressed by this capital need to be conquered by the man in front of her. The very one she had asked the dragon to meet. The only one capable of relieving her of this desire that had been devouring her for days but who, for one reason or another, seemed hesitant to embrace their destiny.

"Vegeta..." she breathed painfully, halfway between exasperation and dismay. "You'd better not have any doubts... You'd better be fucking me, right now. Because I swear, if you hesitate, if you stop now, I swear to you... I'm going to make you pay."

Intrigued by the torment and the menace in her voice, the Saiyan's eyes locked with hers to stare seriously. Slowly, the hand holding her chin slid up to her temple, and he brushed aside the unruly locks that fell in front of her face. He watched them carefully, his attention temporarily captured by the thousands of blue jewels cascading between his fingers. Arrogance then appeared on Vegeta's lips, and he rewarded her with a smirk he punctuated with light pressure on her butt with his other hand.

"Vulgar woman... Does it really look like I'm having doubts to you?" he asked dangerously, giving her a solid thrust of his hips.

Bulma inhaled sharply, both disconcerted by the jolt of pleasure that ran through her and Vegeta's pretension. The maneuver, accompanied by a skillful mockery, was undoubtedly intended to remind her of the firmness of his erection. It was his way of invalidating her worries and of guaranteeing her that he would not leave her disappointed. And that was all the better. Because Bulma would not have supported Vegeta retracting at such a critical moment. Whether they had been blessed or cursed by Shenron's will, destiny wanted them to be reunited in this way and any attempt to escape it only increased the visceral need to be trapped in his arms.

The young woman therefore welcomed with relief the sensation of him partially withdrawing from her, a silent promise to lead them towards the liberating paths of paradise.

Or towards the fatal paths of hell. She wasn't sure yet.

At the first thrust, Vegeta took her hair entirely in his fist. He tangled her locks tightly around his fingers to turn her long mane into a messy blue mass at the back of her head. He pressed his palm hard, urging her to bring her face closer so he could hold down his forehead against hers. The Saiyan parted his lips to suck in the small moan his erection had drawn from her, but no kiss was initiated. The discharge of sensations where their bodies joined was already electrifying enough.

The second thrust was a little more vigorous. Bulma's boobs bounced under the force of the impulse. The pink t-shirt discreetly grazed their tips, which hardened and became visible under the fabric. Vegeta crushed them with his torso, and an unsatisfied groan was heard when the garment posed an obstacle to the contact of their skin. A dissatisfaction that the Saiyan tried to compensate by digging his fingers deep into the flesh of her ass. Bulma was certain that her partner's enthusiasm would cost her a few bruises there. But she didn't care. Nothing, not even pain, could supplant the satisfaction of feeling him rejoice in her attributes.

At the third thrust, the woman tightened around Vegeta. Her legs pressed against his sides. Her heels pounded the back of his butt. The muscles of her abdomen convulsed. One of her hands pulled on the black locks of hair at his nape, while the other rested on his bulging biceps. Looking into his black eyes was no longer enough to keep her anchored to reality. Bulma needed to hold on to something, to hold on to him. Already, her body was trembling with anticipation, waiting for the final jolt that would tear her insides. She had imagined, dreamed, waited for this moment so much. She would have liked to make it last, just to enjoy his merciless thrusts a little more. But the end was imminent. Vegeta was too good. Too handsome. Too hot. Too muscular. Too confident. He was just too perfect for her to be able to resist his assaults any longer.

It was at the fourth push that Bulma felt herself tipping over. Vegeta knew how close she was to climax. He rammed into her one last time with a delicious mingle of perfectly dosed vigor and sensuality, the final blow that put an end to the interminable escalation of desire, and which caused a dizzying fall leading her straight towards ecstasy. She stopped breathing; her breath cut off by the unbearable tension that was growing inside her. Until finally, finally, the final explosion happened, annihilating everything around her, except him, this Saiyan who did not take his fiery gaze off her, as well as this magnificent orgasm that made her tremble from head to toe. Her body suddenly freed of the tension, she exhaled the air that she had kept trapped in her lungs in one go. She loosened her strained muscles to let herself be invaded by the never-ending pulsations, and the shockwave grew stronger until it spread to Vegeta, who spilled his pleasure in echo to hers in the depths of her body.

Linked by body, gaze and soul, it was in complete silence that they finally found each other where they meant to be. The absence of words, moans or any breath whatsoever testified to their affliction, and it was at this precise moment that any uncertainty about their complementarity was swept away like a dead leaf in a gust of wind. Whether by the force of an extraordinary physical attraction or by the power of a connection that went beyond, the dragon's will had done its work.

Reunited in the greatest intimacy possible, they were the most synchronous, most perfect amalgam that had ever existed.

Bulma's orgasm was prolonged by the intensity of Vegeta's climax. The prince tried to contain his satisfaction by pulling on her blue hair and forcing his fingers into her buttock. Their pleasure dragged on, the waves crashing in unison on their bodies and the shivers flowing down their skin. Seconds, minutes passed, and after what seemed like hours, a salvaging calmness gradually enveloped them.

Emerging into reality after being hit by such a storm took time. The woman tried to calm her breathing. She bit her lip with desire, still under the effects of the aftershocks of what they had just done. Vegeta continued to observe her calmly, the burning intensity of his eyes being the only clue that he had also been a victim of their antics.

After a moment of staring at each other in silence, Bulma then began to smile softly.

"Oh well..." she said quietly so as not to disturb their peace. "That was quick."

A small laugh escaped her mouth. She had imagined having sex with Vegeta many times, but now that it happened, she never doubted it would end so fast. Naturally, her comment stung the Saiyan's humongous ego.

"Humph! I must remind you women, you finished first" Vegeta grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"I know" she laughed.

Bulma absentmindedly played with one strand of his hair, appreciating their robustness on the tips of her fingers. It wasn't his prowess she was talking about, but rather her own resilience. Never had she come so fast while sleeping with a man. And even if it had been short, the intensity of her pleasure had largely compensated for its duration anyway.

"It's just that… I usually need more time to come" she reassured him.

She leaned down to place a light kiss on his lips. The scent his bronze skin gave off was pleasant, a sweet mixture of warmth and virility. Her hand slid through his thick hair, an equally soothing sensation. Briefly, her gaze rested on the enormous pectorals that still compressed her boobs. Disappointment invaded her when she realized that she hadn't had the opportunity to touch him.

"Tell me…" she ventured to ask, tempted by the appeal of the prince's bulging muscles. "How much time do you need before you can do it again?"

Vegeta looked at her with confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know… men usually need to rest after sex. I want to do it again…so…"

Understanding flashed across Vegeta's face. The fleeting expression was quickly replaced by arrogance, and he smirked proudly to her, raising an eyebrow.

Slowly, his gaze fearsomely confident, he tilted his head to speak in her ear.

"Woman… I'm a Saiyan."

His lips grazed her earlobe. His hot breath brushed her skin as he laughed dangerously.

"Saiyans don't need that kind of break" he growled into the crook of her neck.

Bulma felt a pang of excitement stir in the pit of her stomach.

Holy shit.

This was going to be a long night.