Bonjour!
First, I would like to say that you are all amazing guys :) On every platforms I publish, many of you comment, like and enjoy my story, regardless of the language I write in (I was a bit scared to write in English to be honest). Thank you, it really encourages me to continue!
I finally finished this chapter, and I think you won't be disappointed... but I can already hear you saying that you are looking forward to the next one. To that I say; me too! ;)
Enjoy xx
PS: during the holidays, a friend introduced me to AI. I had a little fun and managed to create images of our two favorite characters in the way I imagine them. However, discovering AI, I also realized its many flaws (which sometimes give rather disturbing results...). So I decided to use my talents in drawing and visual art to transform the images the way I like it. I am quite happy with the result! Go take a look. The art can be found in chapters 1 and 2 of my story.
Chapter 27 - Vegeta
Vegeta choked on the mockery he was about to serve Bulma. He froze, unsure if he had heard correctly, and even a little confused. He straightened up in his chair. Blinked a few times. Squinted under the effort of concentration.
Dragon Balls. A sacred dragon. A wish, any wish. Like the one to meet a man, formulated years ago. A powerful-handsome-intelligent-honest man. Like him. And a prince. Like him.
He opened his mouth to speak when he understood his involvement in this messed up story but closed it almost immediately. He couldn't find the words. Thoughts raced through his head, one after another, none of them making enough sense to be worth saying out loud. So, Bulma's revelation was met with a long silence, during which the woman was impatient to know his introspective and immutable verdict.
"Oh…" he flatly said after a moment.
Bulma frowned, disappointed to get so few words when she should have been faced with a myriad of questions and uncertainties. Vegeta was aware of his stoicism. His reaction, or lack thereof, probably made her doubt the intelligence part of the contract. But the truth was that Vegeta could not wrap his head around the fact that a woman, no matter which one, and certainly not one like Bulma, could wish to meet someone like him, much less qualify him as marriage material. He was a Saiyan, a sovereign destined to lead and govern. A mercenary thirsty for power, who only worked for his own greatness. A bloodthirsty warrior with a dark past who did not hesitate to use force to achieve his ends, and whose death was the number one option in the event of an obstacle.
He was born to decimate and conquer peoples, even entire planets, not women's hearts.
"You… asked the dragon to meet me?" he finally managed to say, incredulous.
The woman rolled her eyes, which briefly gave him hope that he had been mistaken.
"Not you specifically, no" she corrected. "I established my criteria, that's all. Shenron probably designated you as the most fitting candidate."
She scanned him from head to toe with her enormous cerulean eyes, then raised a condemning eyebrow before continuing.
"As much as I hate to compliment you so gratuitously, I must admit that you tick all the boxes. But before you get carried away too quickly, my dear prince, I must point out that you are far from the ideal man I had imagined at that time. If I had known it would be you, I would have added the word charming in my demand, believe me!"
Bulma's disparaging comment made Vegeta come out of his stupor. Of course he wasn't the Prince Charming she had imagined. He was far, very far from the pacifist, charitable, devoted and romantic sovereign she had hoped for.
"Poor little Human" he spat, puffing out his chest, halfway between pride and indignation. "You wanted to meet Prince Charming... but you end up with the vile beast instead. The disappointment must be horrible."
Bulma straightened up, and the crease between her eyebrows deepened.
"That's not what I meant" she said in a small voice.
"Yes, that's exactly what you meant. But don't worry. My shell is hard. It takes a lot more than that to hurt me."
The bewilderment that accompanied the revelation was slowly starting to dissipate and little by little, the absurdity of the situation crept into Vegeta's mind, which allowed the Saiyan to better understand certain details that had escaped him.
He understood better now why she had gotten so worked up when she got out of the Command Room. He understood better her nervousness about discussing the Dragon Balls with him. He also understood why she had mentioned this futile wish at the beginning of their conversation, as well as the circumstances surrounding it. She was young, carefree, and her little broken heart could not bear the infidelity of the stupid Human she had become emotionally attached to. She had drowned her sorrows in alcohol before finally asking the dragon to make her dreams of love, princesses and unicorns come true.
But what Bulma had not considered at that time was that her prince did not live in this fairy tale world. Vegeta lived in a world full of war, violence and destruction. To survive there, he had seen the color of blood and had even happily made it flow. To survive there, he had rubbed shoulders with monsters and had become one himself. It was this horrible world that he inhabited, that had forged him and not only did he enjoy it, but he also found himself repulsed by everything that was not.
Especially love.
"What are the implications?" he asked point blank when the concept crossed his mind.
The Saiyan bitterly dreaded Bulma's answer. He had asked this question for all intents and purposes, hoping to understand what his part of the contract was in the improbable situation. He knew that Humans placed a lot of importance on feelings like love and caring. He hoped that the woman would not venture to talk about such frivolities. That, or any other form of commitment or mating ritual for that matter, an option he would dismay without hesitation.
"I have no idea" she admitted, sincerely. "I made that wish a long time ago. I don't really remember the way I worded it."
Vegeta frowned. The lack of precision regarding the nature of his connection to this woman was annoying, and the memory problems she seemed to be suffering from were even more so.
"Are you sure it was me that the dragon pointed to?" Vegeta asked in a harsh tone.
She took a step toward him. Draped in that unflattering sweater and her unmatched temperament, she rebuked his skepticism with a categorical movement of her head. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in a magnificent blue torrent tinged with mauve, and despite the strangeness of the situation, Vegeta was unable to ignore that small primal part of his brain that dreamed of observing those captivating reflections more closely.
"Princes aren't common on Earth" she explained. "You're the first, and the only one I've ever met. Besides... "
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking on a resigned air.
"...do you really doubt that you're the right person?" she asked in a low voice, reopening her eyes to look at him.
Like two spotlights trained on him, Vegeta was dazzled by the crystalline blue of her irises. By asking him this question, and by looking at him the way she did, she undoubtedly wanted to highlight the reality that had struck them from their very first glance.
The physical attraction, instantaneous and unequaled. The dreams, invasive, numerous, which stole his concentration during the day and his sleep at night. This unusual desire to discover her, despite her weakness and insignificance. That inexplicable satisfaction he felt when she challenged him fearlessly, morally and sometimes even physically, despite his obvious superiority.
No, there was no doubt. He was the prince the dragon had put in her path.
"Well, that explains a lot of things" he said after a long, reflective silence.
"Indeed" she confirmed.
She took another step in his direction. Her movement allowed a few more moonbeams to reach him, and the Saiyan was once again overcome by a shiver that made his toes curl against the ground.
"Vegeta…" the Human said in a soft, almost honeyed voice. "I know it's a confusing and improbable situation. But I'm as lost as you are here… I have no idea what to expect. Maye if you told me what you think, it would help clarify… Please?"
Pleading was usually not a very effective tactic with Vegeta. But for the first time, despite everything she had experienced since arriving on the ship, he could see a glimmer of fear shining in Bulma's eyes. And it was this deeply unpleasant sight that encouraged him to think about the answer she expected from him. The task was complex, because countless questions jostled in his head. Between the discovery of the existence of the Dragon Balls, the possibility of gathering them and making a wish, Frieza's secret aspirations to use them and the curious involvement of this woman in this whole story, Vegeta couldn't get his thoughts in order. All that, plus the effect of the moon which cast a shadow on his ability to reason.
But after careful consideration, the truth was that this whole wish story seemed rather innocuous if he compared it with everything else.
Because for him, concretely, it changed absolutely nothing. He remained Vegeta, the prince of all Saiyans, the talented warrior, the powerful General of the Cold army. This wish, whether it had influenced his destiny or not, did not shake his pride nor his aspirations. His dreams of greatness, his desire to fight, his motivations to become stronger; everything remained unchanged.
Only this strange obsession with Bulma, which he had not been able to explain until now, was new to him. And in all honesty, learning that the Human's power of attraction was the fruit of the will of a sacred dragon, and not one of his own weaknesses, was rather relieving.
Because now that he could justify it, now that he understood it, it would be easy to find a solution to this obstacle.
Supporting her blue gaze, he gave her the answer she had been patiently waiting for.
"I don't care what you asked the dragon" he declared. "The wish doesn't change anything at all."
She tilted her head to the side, looking like she was analyzing his reaction, and probably a little surprised by his rationality. Her almost dry hair fell over her shoulder, and the purple reflection became brighter. His Saiyan instincts were stimulated again by this vision and the shiver he had felt earlier repeated. Like a shock wave, an uncontrollable tremor went through his spine to the tip of his tail. The familiar sensation briefly reminded him of the one he felt just before transforming into Oozaru. Vegeta swallowed hard, his breath suddenly cut off by a pressure in his chest that was starting to weigh on him. He tightened his tail around his waist, all the while hoping that Bulma wouldn't notice the bristling hair on it.
He knew the amount of Blutz waves was insufficient for a transformation to take place aboard the ship, but their presence still awakened his instincts and the effects of the moon on his body were getting difficult to ignore.
Fortunately, the Human was easily offended, because she didn't notice anything.
"What do you mean, it doesn't change anything?" she asked. "Either you're blind or you're too stubborn to admit it; I know attraction when I see it!"
"Exactly" he spat, trying to maintain his tone as even and neutral as possible. "Physical attraction, that's what it is. The wish doesn't change anything, because you're no different from the other attractive females I've met in the past and I'm still who I've always been. To me, all this is completely superficial, and I hope you don't think that I'm going to participate in your pathetic love stories. Dragon or not, wish or not, I have NOTHING to offer you on that matter."
"Pff!" Bulma said, crossing her arms under her chest. "Oh believe me, you don't have to worry. The attraction is only physical on my side too. Shenron really messed up if he thinks you're the perfect man for me. I would never be able to fall in love with someone like you!"
"Good" he growled in a dull but arbitrary voice. "I'm happy that we are clear here."
"Crystal clear!" Bulma concluded dryly.
Satisfied, Vegeta straightened up. A physical attraction, nothing more. Here was what the wish was about. Nothing new, and above all, nothing he couldn't control. For him, this discussion was over, and he was glad it didn't extend further.
Staring into Bulma's resolute gaze, he told himself that the time had come for her to be dismissed. She had successfully escaped from the Quarters and had taken a hot shower, as promised. He had gotten answers to his questions, as expected. The logical next step was to part ways. She would return to her room to rest and prepare to build the radar for Frieza the next morning. He would lie down on his bed and think about everything he had just learned in order to establish a strategy, far from the influence of the moon on his Saiyan genes, as well as this artificial attraction that this woman inspired in him.
It was simple. Easy. Vegeta only had to pronounce a few words to make her disappear from his sight.
But, unable to open his mouth, Vegeta remained silent.
Something inside him, something inexplicable, something powerful, something bestial even, urged him to keep quiet to prolong this moment. Because the vision he had of her with the moon in the background was too beautiful to put an end to it.
So rather than asking her to leave as he should have, the Saiyan found himself observing Bulma without saying a word. The woman did the same, and for several long seconds, he bare-chested on his chair and she standing in her oversized shirt, they stared at each other, wrapped in this silence that said much more than what they had just said out loud.
Because even if Vegeta tried not to admit it, he knew deep down that this attraction was not like the others. Unlike the other attractive women he had met earlier in his life, it was impossible for him to reject her with a simple wave of the hand. It hurt him to admit it, but this attraction, he could not ignore it, he could not get rid of it, or even control it. She was there, in front of him. And she was looking at him with the eyes of a lost doe, looking like she was ready to flee if he asked her, or to throw herself into the lion's den if he had the appetite. And all he wanted was to give in to his predatory instincts, to go after her, take her and taste her, to do to her all the obscene things he was hungry for.
He had planned to push her away, but he couldn't. He didn't want her to leave his room. He wanted to touch her appealing skin, taste her luscious mouth and smell her delicious perfume. Nothing, not even his Saiyan pride, nor his warrior tenacity, could shake the natural propensity to keep her close to him, just for him. Add the effect of the Blutz waves on his nervous system and any will to ignore his carnal desires was shattered into a thousand pieces.
And the only possible consolation in all this was to remember that this attraction, strictly physical, was due to nothing more than the influence of a wish made more than ten years ago.
Naturally, instinctively, Vegeta raised his right arm to extend it towards Bulma. In complete silence, without taking his eyes off her, he brushed the hem of her pink t-shirt with the tips of his fingers. The gesture, a perfect antagonism of his own admission, was meant to be a silent invitation to initiate this dance she had proposed during their first meeting, and to consume what the dragon had granted them. The woman lowered her head to observe this hand placed at the level of her thigh. He was not yet touching her, but he asked permission to take the first steps. A second later, her oceanic orbs submerged him again, and Vegeta understood that she was under the influence of the exact same spell as him.
Refusing the invitation was not an option.
Gently, the Saiyan placed his palm on her white skin, just under her buttock. Bulma stiffened as soon as he touched her, and the electric current that had been making him tremble for a few minutes already seemed to spread through her body. The current quickly transformed into a discharge, and the delicate caress under the roundness of her ass took on a more daring allure. Vegeta dug his fingers into the firm flesh of her thigh and began to apply pressure to pull her towards him. He wanted her in his arms. Now.
Bulma had been ready for this dance for a long time. Her body responded to the call as if it was all she had been waiting for. She let herself be guided by his hand and approached, resting her palms on Vegeta's broad shoulders. She spread her legs to place them on either side of the prince's, who cupped her cheeks in his other hand for support. The Saiyan raised his head to look her in the eyes and the Human's thin fingers slid to the back of his neck, trapping the base of his skull to hold him in this position. The movement of their bodies had been carried out with disconcerting fluidity and she quickly found herself sitting astride him, their faces barely separated by a few centimeters.
Thus reunited, they took a moment to assimilate what was happening. Vegeta tensed under Bulma while she, her gaze fixed on his, was overcome by a tremor, both feverishly anticipating the inevitable kiss that would follow. They didn't need to say anything. Their joined bodies were already speaking to each other, the silent dialogue that had been established shouting much louder than their own voices, and which confirmed that they were exactly where they needed to be. Despite everything they said to each other, the outcome of their encounter could not be different.
This evidence struck them both at the same time, but it was Bulma who kissed him first. Completely assumed, without any hesitation, she leaned towards Vegeta and their mouth collided. The Saiyan greeted her with parted lips, and he took a deep breath to taste her desire on his tongue. The woman's delicate perfume awakened his senses, her scent mixed with that of the soap she had used to clean herself - HIS soap - reviving something unknown and possessive in his guts. A low growl escaped him, a new sound he did not recognize either, but which was immediately swallowed by another hungry kiss from Bulma. He raised his head a few centimeters to make sure that she would not escape him. She tightened her fingers around his neck for the same reason. Their egos had finally bent, and they would make sure that nothing would separate them now that they had finally found each other.
A more frantic waltz then followed. Bulma intertwined her mouth with Vegeta's in a burning mess of lips, tongue and saliva. At one point, the Saiyan felt the woman's teeth sink into the pulp of his lower lip. The bite didn't hurt him, but instinctively, the fighter retracted a few millimeters, growling his anger. His reaction drew a small laugh from his partner. Immediately, he silenced her with a bite of his own. She reacted differently. Through the dull moan that trembled in her throat, he perceived the pleasure she felt at being bitten by him, and she pressed her mouth with even more force on him. The Saiyan found himself agreeing to this little teasing game, and he caught her lip a second time between his teeth. Bulma laughed again, the vibration of her amusement spreading through their tangled bodies. Vegeta remained serious. He couldn't think of anything other than the texture of her lips under his teeth, the taste of her breath on his tongue, and he figured the split seconds their mouths were apart to catch their breath were too long.
Fuck.
It felt so good.
Her, Bulma. In his arms. Their kiss. The warmth of their bodies. The softness of her ass in his hands.
It felt So. Fucking. Good.
Now that he had her wrapped around him, and they were kissing passionately on that chair, Vegeta seriously wondered how he had waited so long to give in to her.
Having her in his arms made him realize the torture he had inflicted on himself by refusing to join her earlier, when she had invited him into the shower.
Having her in his arms made him realize that everything that had seemed essential to him before was not really so.
Fuck the Dragon Balls.
Fuck Frieza's secrets intentions.
Fuck his own aspirations.
Fuck the dragon and the wish.
Right now, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was her soft, tender butt in his palms. Her mouth moving against his. Her tongue sliding between his lips. Her body rocking languidly over his. Her fingers pulling on his black hair. Her breath becoming jerky with arousal.
The main thing, right now, was her. Her, her and her. This fucking blue-haired Human who was making him lose his mind, for good.
Vegeta straightened up on the chair, growling against Bulma's mouth. He was beginning to feel the effects of their little make-out session in the tightness of his suit. His hands, strong and rough, slowly slid up her ass to soak up its texture. The sensation under his fingers was exhilarating. Never before had he touched an ass as firm and plump as Bulma's. This woman was truly a work of art, and it felt like she was brought into the world to be admired and praised by him.
The prince therefore ventured a little higher under the pink shirt to discover his muse. He caressed the small of her back, where he pressed his palms hard against her skin to feel her better. He then slowly went up along her body so that each of her curves was revealed to him; the hollow of her back, the bulge at the level of her kidneys, the finesse of her waist, the delicacy of her shoulders. He even went to the base of her neck, where he ventured to touch her hair with his fingertips. After that, he went the opposite way, his palms leaning so hard against her that he could feel her skin stretch under his fingers. Briefly, the prince thought that the caress would probably leave scarlet marks on her paleness, and the idea that she was marked with his passion did not displease him.
The little escapade he had made under the pink shirt allowed him to construct a particularly realistic mental image of Bulma's body. But rather than appease his hunger, Vegeta found himself struggling with a new appetite. He wanted to see her. He wanted to look at this body he had often dreamed of but never had the luxury of admiring. He wanted to set his black eyes on her white skin, flood its depths with clear water and oust the darkness to replace it with purity.
For a moment, he wanted to forget the horrors of his life and soak himself with beauty.
The prince therefore moved back to break the kiss and opened his eyes to rest them on Bulma's face. She protested, her body arching over him in dissatisfaction. Vegeta dug his fingers into her buttocks to soothe her and silently promise that he had no intention of ending what they were doing. The woman lifted her eyelids in turn. Her blue eyes had become extremely bright, almost feverish. Her long hair fell around her thin face, forming a curtain protecting them from reality. From this angle, at this distance, the Saiyan could see more precisely the purple coloring her locks took on under the moonlight, and he noticed for the first time that it also reflected in her irises. Captivated, his dark orbs riveted on this purple-tinted enchantress, Vegeta raised one of his hands to run it through a strand of her hair. Bulma watched him move, intrigued by the look of fascination that had settled on his usually impassive features. One of her own hands left his neck to delicately rest on his forearm. With her fingertips, she began to trace the defined contours of his forearm muscles, and the shadow of a smile appeared on her lust-reddened lips.
This little contortion of her mouth awakened Vegeta's protective instincts. For him, it was already consolidated; their relationship was strictly physical, and the dragon's powers stopped there. Under no circumstances was he to allow that little agitation to appear in the pit of his stomach, the same one that often manifested when he saw her smile.
Seized by a sudden need for control, the prince grabbed Bulma's wrist so that she would stop caressing his forearm and got to his feet, cupping her bum with one hand. He moved quickly, much more than Human eyes could perceive, and in less than a fraction of a second, he had her pinned back to the window of his bedroom. The woman's turquoise eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth opened slightly to let in the little sigh of astonishment that escaped her. Instinctively, she tightened her thighs around his hips, pressed her knees to his waist and gripped his neck more firmly with her fingers.
Behind her, the moon shone brightly through the glass. Vegeta was electrified by the spectacle unfolding before his eyes. He was a Saiyan. For him, the salvaging effects of the white rock was undeniable, its magnificence even described as addictive sometimes. Often in his life, the prince had sought to soak up its radiance to bring tranquility and peace where chaos and war reigned around him. This moment was no exception. Under the orb's milky rays, this woman had become the epitome of beauty for his Saiyan eyes. Her blue irises tending towards mauve, become almost iridescent. Her immaculate skin, sparkling under the moon's beams. Her satin hair, turning purple from time to time, depending on how she moved. Bulma had absolutely everything to bewitch Vegeta, who asked nothing less than to absorb each ray of moonlight that reflected on her.
The woman, surprised by this sudden turnaround, began to wriggle in his powerful arms. She tried to free herself from his iron grip, then tilted her head to kiss him again, but Vegeta jerked his head back to prevent her.
"Don't move" he demanded.
Confused, she began to scrutinize his features, and her eyebrows furrowed when she saw this strange air of fascination appear for a second time on the prince's face.
"What is it?" she asked quietly. "You don't want to kiss me anymore?"
Vegeta didn't answer right away. His mouth formed a thin line of discontent. No, that wasn't it. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to touch her. And he was burning to fuck her. But right now, there was something he wanted even more than all of those things.
Slowly, he untied his fingers from Bulma's wrist to brush aside a strand of her azure hair. As he examined how purple flashed before his eyes, he spoke in a hoarse voice to justify his actions.
"Let me look at you under the moonlight."